When I was six years old, they sentenced me to death with a cup of poisoned tea.
But I managed to save half my life from the Palace of Hell.
For the next ten years, I lay on the bed, hiding my sharp edge, pretending to be sick and torn apart, and showing all my kindness to others.
They were all waiting for me to die, waiting for me to completely disappear from this world.
Little do they know that these ten years of hard work have worn away the cartilage of young children and developed human-eating fangs.
I'm not dead.
Then I should let the perpetrators of the crime walk this road to hell for me.
The debts owed ten years ago are no less and it is time to liquidate them.
