I Maxed Out My Paper-Cutting Skills in a Supernatural World

Eerie things are resurging, and nameless whispers seep into the human world from the deep sea and the stars.

The Awakened race to fight back, and technological weapons roar, yet none can halt the despair of flesh twisting into monstrous forms.

I have only a silver knife, passed down by my grandmother, for cutting red paper.

Cut out a magpie, and it brings three days of good fortune. Cut out a door guardian, and it keeps a home safe for a hundred days.

Until that day, when the stars hung upside down and Its pupil opened in the moon. All sound fell silent.

Amid the ruins, I spread out the last length of red silk. My silver knife became a pen, cutting out a winding river of stars

“Every forbidden thing in this realm is a prisoner on my paper.”