I was born with a curse. With a black and white face and a broken middle finger, the villagers regarded me as "the door god asking for his life" and abandoned me in a mass grave. The mountain spirits and wild monsters supported me. That night, dignitaries knelt all over the mountains and fields, shouting, "Anyone who sees this will perish." Only grandpa cut off his own finger and put it in my hand. He said it was to extend my life. It wasn't until he died that the attached finger moved on its own. And I, according to the blood map he left, walked towards a Jedi called "Ninth Aperture". The chessboard is revealed, where should my chess piece fall?
