Bad news: I've entered a horror game. It's full of terrifying, bizarre things, and one careless mistake could get me killed.
Good news: My talent is the Seven Deadly Sins. As long as I collect the emotions tied to those sins, I can use the corresponding abilities. The potential for creative play is enormous.
The more the monsters lose their cool, the stronger I get.
The harder I try to get myself killed, the less I can die. Isn't that infuriating?
"I wasn't even trying, and you already fell over."
"You're pretty strong. Almost one-tenth as strong as me."
"If your level is a fifth-degree black belt, then I've got at least five hundred degrees."
"Who are you trying to fool, you little loser? I can beat you even without cheats."
In other people's eyes, the horror game is a deadly trial where nine out of ten will die. In my eyes, it's a stage where I can show off in front of everyone.
In the horror game, I'm immortal. Who wouldn't offer Brother Han a cigarette?
