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... aring offerings—ranging from scrawny squirrels and mangled rats to half-eaten wolves with blood still dripping from their jaws.

The graveyard stirred with a strange, swelling energy. The undead presence grew not only in numbers but in sheer size—shambling corpses swollen with undeath, some towering over the rest like grotesque monuments to rot.

Low moans and guttural groans echoed through the night like a choir of the damned, rattling through broken tombstones and twisted trees. ...

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This is the story of a person who transmigrated into a world with a radically different worldview.

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Cheng Nuo: What? Why did you say that I’m female?

Author: You only have one Tintin. The males of this world have two Tintins.

Cheng Nuo: No way! My hands are itchy… I want to cut one off!

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