About the book: year / I see your fake faces, begging to bite into them. My fangs are sharper than ever, my blades thirst for blood, but my HUNGER cannot be satisfied... It has been restrained for too long, suppressed too roughly. Is it for the sake of salvation? Is it for the sake of whim? It doesn’t matter anymore, because you’re playing too hard. All that’s left is to find out whether you’ll bend or I’ll break, there’s no third option. Where the predators of the absolute dominate, there is no room for concessions.