I went to prison for excessive self-defense. After I got out, everyone looked down on me, and my life was a complete mess.
Then my cousin offered me a path to riches: join him in robbing tombs and make a fortune off the dead.
After he urged me again and again, I stumbled into this mysterious world.
But the ancient things inside the tombs were wicked beyond belief.
And because of them, I ended up carrying a strange, evil presence on my back.
The veterans in the trade said it was written in my fate: once I carried it, I had to nurture it, or I would die!
I never imagined that carrying it would turn me into a terrifying figure in the tomb-raiding trade, no, in the whole business of making a living from the dead, someone everyone feared!
