In countless dark nights, killing has become a way of self-expression of value. Watching life passing by bit by bit, the boiling blood in the body seems to have stabilized. Just let yourself corrode a little bit in the mud. But the traces left by the flash of fireworks across the starry sky must be traced. The fire fades away and the heart returns to dust. It seems that this path of salvation and freedom is getting further and further away.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
