Japanese backgroundShort bedtime story
Copywriting:
The taboo of blood spreads from the first drop of ink.
When Kawakami was pushed into the sewage pool again, he finally saw the curse mark emerging on his wrist - it was Mr. Himuro's curse that penetrated the skin, and strange patterns were blooming along the veins.
"Kill the bully... Or become my new sacrifice?"
The corpses hanging upside down and blooming from the ceiling of the school building were branded with the same demonic pattern as his on the heart. Himuro's body temperature was always as cold as the morgue, but when he fought back, it covered him from behind, licking his blood-stained fingertips and letting out a sigh of satisfaction. When the police siren approached the tattoo shop late at night, Kawakami finally saw clearly the wriggling bone scales under the man's skin - it turned out that the cost of raising monsters had been written into every inch of ink that penetrated into the bone marrow.
Intention: stick to yourself