"A gentleman's revenge is never too late in ten years; a villain's revenge is from morning to night."
Ten years is the scale of the gentleman's card hidden in the gear of the pocket watch, and day and night are the fishy smell of the villain's card soaked in the gap of the scabbard. And the mirror that stood between the two of them not only reflected the forbearing moonlight reflected in the pine and bamboo scabbard, but also reflected the dripping blood stains from the red thread wrapped around the knife. The overlapping shadows in the mirror made it difficult to tell who was the gentleman waiting for revenge and who was the villain chasing time and drinking blood.
When the bell breaks the boundary of the copy, ten years and day and night merge in the blood mist, and the frost flowers and blood beads condensed on the mirror will eventually write the most bizarre symbiosis in this infinite reincarnation.
When the brass clock struck the third muffled sound on the rainy night, the blood-soaked invitation finally knocked on the door of destiny. "Welcome to "Revenge!!!" -" The mechanical sound penetrated the cochlea wrapped in the cold wind. Those souls that had been eaten by hatred suddenly opened their eyes and found themselves standing between countless twisted mirrors.
In the mirror are the rules of the copy: the gentleman card holder needs to complete three revenges within ten years, and must step on the moral tightrope at every step; the villain card is chased by time, and the knife raised in the morning light must drink blood before dusk, otherwise the ulcer will crawl from the fingertips to the heart. But no one could tell whether the man who always wiped his pocket watch at midnight was really waiting for a ten-year appointment, or whether he was hiding the tooth marks of a villain in a gentleman's skin; it was even more unclear whether the figure in a suit and leather shoes, who always wore white gloves, and whether the cuffs hanging down were the reserve of an elite or the unwiped blood stains from last night.
Concept: The so-called good and evil have long been gnawed by each other's shadows and become transparent.