‘O coveter of god’s powers, I impart upon you the curse of death!’ Death… Gart couldn’t help but laugh, pressing his forehead against his palm. He was already burdened with a curse far more terrifying. Immortality plagued him—he wouldn’t succumb to death, he wouldn’t age. The unending agony relentlessly crushed his body and mind. His long future stretched out, bleak and unchanging, perhaps eternal. On a day when the torment of his curse was particularly intense, a woman appeared in the moonlight. Despite entering through the window, she didn’t strike the image of an intruder. Calmly, she aimed a dagger and declared, “Stay still, and I won’t harm you.” Gart tilted his head, unthreatened, and observed her pink eyes shimmering even in the darkness. “Your eyes are quite beautiful,” he remarked, disregarding the warning as he moved closer. “If you approach any further, I will truly kill you.” Gart peered into her eyes. The woman’s pupils quivered as she pointed the blade toward his heart.