Bible, a corpse born from Death’s breath, is forcefully summoned by three rogue angels desperate to clean their cosmic slate. The job? Eliminate three possessed preachers spewing actual infernal venom into the hearts and heads of the city’s youth—leaving nothing behind but hollow eyes and scorched skulls.
What’s in it for him? A flicker of peace. A sliver of that perfect, cloud-soft Japanese cheesecake. And a fleeting second without hearing hell call his name.
Bible, a corpse shaped by Death itself, is yanked back to Earth by three fallen angels looking to avoid the mess they made. His mission: track down and annihilate three infernal preachers whose mouths spill blistering inferno venom, infecting the youth, leaving their minds ruined and bodies piled high.
His reward? A breath of quiet. A bite of ethereal Japanese cheesecake. Maybe even a moment where he doesn’t feel fire licking at his bones.
One corpse. One poisoned city. One blood-soaked Sunday.
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