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There are seven Witches on the Red Moon Continent. The First Witch cursed the night. Since then, no one has dared wait alone until dawn. The Second Witch cursed language. Since then, speaking one’s true feelings has become the greatest luxury in the world. The Third Witch cursed memory. Since then, whenever heavy snow falls, people forget who they are. The Fourth Witch cursed appearance. Since then, even those closest to each other may not see each other’s true face. The Fifth Witch cursed desire. Since then, the more one possesses, the hungrier one becomes. The Sixth Witch cursed flaws. Since then, imperfection has become more terrifying than death. The Seventh Witch cursed fate. Since then, everyone’s life has been written in advance. The world fears them, worships them, and calls them calamities, divine punishment, and unstoppable natural disasters. But no one knows that the birth of the Seven Witches was simply because one player grinded achievements a little too hard. He had been a saint, a mentor, a savior. He had also been someone’s elder brother, someone’s confidant, someone’s one and only. It was just that at the end of every relationship, he faked his death and ran. Five hundred years later, Hiso returned. Only this time, the former min-maxing player had become Sophie: a silver-haired, red-eyed vampire girl with trash-tier stats in all five attributes and maxed-out Charisma. Sophie: “Is there, perhaps, a possibility that Hiso is already dead?” The Witches: “That’s all right.” “We’ll piece you back together.”