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On our wedding night, he poisoned me with his own hands. During the forty-nine days when my soul was shattered, I saw him crying for me, I saw him die on the battlefield, and I saw the murderer of my mother smiling and celebrating. Then I woke up. Back when I was fifteen, the day my mother just died. In this life, I know that there is poison in that glass of wine, I know who the murderer is, and I know where the account book that could kill them is hidden. I'm not a chess piece. I want those who play chess to enter the game personally one by one. A cup of poisonous wine, two copper coins, the lights at the third watch, and the wandering soul for forty-nine days. This is my new life. It is also their last life.