The Man Who Walked on Roof Tiles

One night, her family was destroyed and her parents died. Should she blame the world for being so cruel, or herself for being too clever for her own good?

One sentence became a prophecy. A thousand years passed. Should she blame the hatred that ran too deep, or the abundance of romance in her fate?

The karmic debts of a thousand years later and the grudges of a thousand years ago are like walking across roof tiles: no matter how carefully you tread, you still end up covered in blood…