…

It was as if the whole depth of his brain had been brushed with a steel brush ball, the world was spinning chaotically, Fu Jin staggered on the road, and the pupils in his eyes without focus were terrifyingly dilated, looking like an unconscious zombie.

The eyes of the surrounding pedestrians seemed to be drawn by an invisible force, and they kept following Fu Jin's figure all the time.

The population became more and more scarce, and Fu Jin walked slowly unconsciously, until finally, stepping into the long black street.

The transparent barrier of subspace rises, and the silver-haired manager with a scythe in his hand stands on the other side of the long street, standing in the middle of the road like a barricade.

Fu Jin seemed to sense the danger, he stopped his steps, as if he was puzzled, and tilted his head in the direction of his wishes.

…

There is a moon hanging high.

The silver blade, the red blood, the black-haired white-robed man withdrew, the blonde-haired black-robed man suddenly fell, the white-robed man shook it lightly, and the warm blood splattered in the dirt.

At the same time, as if he felt something, the silver-haired young man in a long black trench coat behind the white-robed man on the side looked up in the direction of the other side.

「… Awakened?" The silver-haired young man chuckled, "I didn't expect that the first-level grave master of the special commission group would also betray the association."

The man looked back, "You want to see him, don't you?"

After all, the girl is very similar to "her".

On the side, the black-haired, white-robed girl squinted her eyes and looked sideways, "Pay attention to your words, Yu Jin."

"Don't you want to see him?" The man laughed, "What did you say?"

- "To the kite."

"..."The girl, Yu Kite was silent for a while, "You have too many things."

As she spoke, she raised her hand, and a flash of silver light sank into the chest of another black-robed man who was about to teleport away.

She pulled out the knife that had entered the black-robed man's chest, "Don't forget, 'she' hasn't held you accountable to you about going to see him privately."

…

The grave, the dead and the living.

The living, the reincarnated man.

The charmer, the dead.

There is such a being, like the gravemen, who neither dies nor breaks out of the chain of cause and effect, yet, unlike the gravemen, they exist in the world of the living, the dead in human skin.

He calls himself a "hermit", which means "hidden in the world of the living".

The grave worshippers call them "ghosts", which means "ghosts".

Two years ago, an unknown mysterious person created an organization called the White Cloak to contain succubiens who met the conditions to join the organization, and exempt them from the graveman's sanctions.

The Enchantress's entry into the White Clothes only requires one condition - to bring a Graveman's head to the White Clothes.

This group is dedicated to grave hunters.

…

Sitting at the foot of the long steps, she looked up at the zenith.

In this world, they are like hollow glass pillars, from the beginning of the first life to the end, they will follow the stairs on the inside of the glass pillar, step by step.

At the end of the ladder, he left this world.

He's halfway there, and she's a child for the first time.

He stood on the long steps, looking down at her from above.

She staggered to her feet, chasing his figure step by step, like a toddler.

He walked so fast, and she walked so slowly. So much so that they obviously came together, but in the end she was left behind by him.

He stared at her, but there seemed to be some kind of helplessness in his calm and deep eyes.

She always remembered.

Eight years ago, when she was still saying "I don't know anything, I have nothing," he didn't say anything, just smiled and took her hand.

Ordinary people are busy expressing the world and themselves, while the real ordinary people seem to recognize the world, neither expressing it nor denying it. She saw him gently put these things aside, but he contained them all in his own life.

From his simple movements, she saw something she had been pursuing. That's the so-called depth of life.

Depth without asking more questions and more words.

His presence alone seems to prove the existence of a certain gap between people.

It's hard to imagine. In this way, she was discouraged and inspired by him. She was hopelessly in love with him.

Thinking of this man, she pursued all the perfection she could, and she wanted to see the place where he was, and see what kind of scenery the people who stood on the steps and walked halfway through the way saw what kind of scenery they saw.

Later, they saw each other in years. Every time she said goodbye, she kept measuring the gap between herself and him.

The last time we met, she told him to wait for her, and if one day she could match him, she would come back to him again.

Later, he died.

He died in her arms.

She cried, but she couldn't make a sound.

That year, again, she killed him.

…

So she picked up the pen and tampered with the surname, age, and past, leaving only one name, and re-recorded him.

- Jin.