[Since this is a battle of wits set in a Lovecraftian world, it's only suitable for readers with dark minds, hollow hearts, and a deep-seated craving to be manipulated. Hahahaha!
Ahem. Of course, if you're a normal person, I can only apologize in advance. Don't act tough like a tsundere, only to be so disturbed by this book's visceral horror that you can't even eat, and end up hugging yourself with your delicate hands, trembling and weeping with your knees drawn to your chest. The author certainly won't comfort you!]
Enter a sea of blood and a forest of flesh, surrounded by the stench of bones.
The flowers of the other shore in your hands bloom only when implanted in your flesh. Miss a single day, and you'll lose the right to reason and think.
But what good is it to keep your sanity?
Human pupils have mutated into rectangles. Their lips and teeth, chewing raw meat all day, have lost their taste buds. Even forming a complete thought takes careful deliberation.
They are called “human sheep,” and make up 99% of the human population here.
So a religion that worships death is regarded as “salvation.”
It's hard to imagine anything more despairing.
My name is Qian Shi. I'm a death-row inmate with three seconds left before my execution by firing squad.
I'm grateful this world gave me a new life, and put the psychology books I had read, useful almost nowhere else, to good use.
Do I want to escape?
