Requiem Society

The night is as thick as ink, and the blood moon is in the sky. This is not a celestial phenomenon, but a deep resentment in the world that has permeated the sky. In an isolated village in the wilderness, under an old locust tree, a group of people knelt in front of a newly dug pit. What lay in the pit was not a corpse, but an empty coffin. The inner wall of the coffin lid was covered with twisted runes painted in blood. The oldest grandfather in the village, with dried blood mud still embedded in his fingernails, tremblingly poured a bowl of mud mixed with chicken blood, incense ash and fingertip blood into the center of the coffin. "Use blood as a guarantee, use thoughts as a lock." The Taigong's voice was hoarse, but his eyes were filled with paranoia. "The evil spirit has been put into the coffin and will never come out. Protect my village and inherit it from generation to generation - the contract is completed!"