My mother, who believed in numerology, told me to go south. I kept following it, but I didn't see any miracles or luck. Instead, I kept bumping into each other. After experiencing the double blow of lovelorn and unemployment, I returned to my hometown, a small town - located north of my home.
I originally thought I could live peacefully in a slow pace of life, but strange things started to happen: the strange alley, the death of the black cat, the lost key - everything that happened to me seemed to be nothing big or small, but death came to the people around me, my neighbors, my landlord, and even people I occasionally met on the road - no matter how slow I was, I noticed something unusual. When I dreamed back in the middle of the night, I would always hear countless voices saying: It's her, it's her.
This small city is already filled with blood, but everything is just the beginning.