The night was falling, everything was silent, and the earth was already asleep. Suddenly, a meteor pierced the dark night sky, releasing a flash of light. The bewildering beauty, although fleeting, is very dazzling.

On the shores of the lake, a palatial villa is nestled among well-groomed flowers and trees. In a lavish room on the top floor of the dome, a man is sleeping peacefully on a comfortable bed. But for a moment, the man's eyes widened, and his hands and feet twitched with convulsions of extreme pleasure. He indulged in strange spasms in his hands and feet, for he knew full well that he hadn't experienced such ecstatic sensations in a long time.

It took a long time for the spasms of the limb pain to subside. In order to prevent further convulsions, he had to slowly sit up from the bed. This grotesque disease has been with him for several years, from the first episode when he was about 10 years old, to the present twenty-five years now. Although I have visited all the famous doctors I know, there is no cure. Whether his physical condition was good or bad, happy or sad, this stubborn illness always came secretly and unexpectedly, and he was caught off guard. Now, when he is occasionally calm, the vicious stubborn illness can be somewhat subdued.

He stepped off the bed on his legs, Kiryu's silk nightgown wrapped around his* body, which was so thin that it could even be said to be skinny. He was of medium height, but the shortest of his many brothers. Looking at it from the left side alone, his face is like Song Yu, plump and handsome. But when viewed from the right, it's terrifying. Nearly two-thirds of the right cheek and a small part of the right neck are crossed, and the burn scar is criss-crossed, like a knife cut. Most of the skin was sunken, but there were also sporadic protrusions, pimples, and the whole body looked dark after pigmentation, but there were also two or three pieces of untimely pink tender meat sandwiched in them, as if they were going to run water. With such a strange appearance, ordinary people can't bear and dare not take another look.

When he was young, he often looked at himself in the mirror, and was always bewitched by the beauty of the left side of his face and the ugliness of the right face, so he simply put on a mask, and his mind calmed down a lot, and he no longer had to worry about his appearance, because there were still many things waiting for him. But today, looking through the mirror, he looked at his half-handsome and half-hideous face, but he was very calm. Because he was unusually happy in his heart, he seemed to have seen a ray of light in front of him, and even his dilapidated right cheek bloomed with a rare light.

Even though it was late at night, he was not tired, and he knew that he had to release some excess energy. He folded his robe and walked down the top floor to the secret room in the side building.

This secret room, which few people knew, turned on the stereo as soon as he entered, because he knew that the huge room was so well soundproofed that even if it was very close, he could not hear a sound. A rare record of a transgender male singer with a high-pitched, tense and eerie voice was playing on the stereo, a small snippet from "Requiem's Light" that celebrates the preciousness of life, and he listens with emotion.

The room was so bright that the huge lights hanging on the wall gave off a dazzling light that illuminated the room as if it were day. A long table on the left near the wall is filled with neat jars and jars, but the most striking thing is the medical bed in the middle, on which a naked girl lies flat and bound by a strong shackle, she seems to be sleeping peacefully, but in fact, she is hypnotized.

The girl lying on the hospital bed is warm and fragrant, Chu Chu is moving, her skin is like condensation, and the willow leaves bend her eyebrows, just like what is described in the book, "The eyebrows are green without painting, and the lips are red without dotting." But the owner of this rich side felt that there seemed to be a lack of finishing touches, and that it had to be rendered by his top painter in order to achieve the world's only perfect picture of a living human body.

Tonight, he was especially energetic, and he pressed the tip of the needle against the girl's smooth lower abdomen, and then the tip of the needle plunged into the dermis with a soft humming sound. An addictive sensation flowed through his oversized robed body like an electric shock······ And the biting sensation when the needle is inserted into the skin and the pigment is released, which is also so pleasant. He sighed softly as the electric gadgets moved in and out of his skin.

He lowered his head and scrutinized his work. On the graceful body of the woman, the three-dimensional engraving of dragons and phoenixes circling and intertwining has begun to appear.

This is my masterpiece that is about to come out!

In his heart, tattooing is not just an artistic expression, but a transformation of the soul and the body. Since ancient times, human beings have endured many pains of grooming their bodies and changing their appearance, and focusing on tattooing their own skin is actually the true meaning of offering part or even all of the body as a sacrifice for incarnation.

With the changing times, the personalized art of tattooing has evolved from a rarity to a commonplace. Whether it's a housewife in the suburbs, a teenager with clear eyebrows, or a hopeless drug addict, countless people want to change themselves through tattoos, and make a disguised statement of rights to the world: I am in charge of my own body.

The human spirit desires to take control of its own body, and he is no exception. But in reality, he can't control his body. But now it doesn't matter, because although he can't control himself well, he can control others with ease!

The grandfather-mounted pendulum clock rang three times, and he looked up to see that it was already three o'clock in the morning. He put down the tattoo tool, left the body that fascinated him, and sat down in a soft chair, which he now had to conserve and use on the blade. His gaze was fixed on a wall in the distance, but he had no idea what he was going to do, for he had once again begun to think about what he was going to do.

Now that you've opened a door for me, the treasure must be somewhere there. Keep using your sleepwalking, and you might find the treasure spot sooner than you expected. He thought, a wicked smile on his lips.

He was Burton, the seventh son of the leader of the Bogu sect.