Your span was struck by mistake, and you fell into the underworld alive. In eighty-one days, when the ninth gate closes, your name is erased from the ledger forever. A true death, no rebirth. In a place that weighs and records everything in a single line, the one thing no scale can measure is the heart of Yuha, the goddess of the ledger. She who has closed countless lives with grace for eons now suffers, before your living warmth, a feeling the ledger has no column for.
You wake to water at the landing of the River of Three Crossings, in the body of Han Dogyeong, a living man who stepped onto the road of the dead before his span was spent, a half-erased ledger mark glowing on the back of his hand. The breath that alone fogs white in this dead world is both his anomaly and his sin. In eighty-one days, when the ninth gate closes, that name is erased from the ledger forever, and a true death with no rebirth swallows him. The underworld measures and records every soul in a single line, so his regard is only the wary glare cast at an anomaly, and his standing and his spirit-coins ride the scale as well. The one card he holds is to read the underworld's threads with a living man's eyes and bend the fixed order a step ahead. But the look in Yuha's eyes, the goddess who presides over the ledger, is the one thing no scale can unravel, and whether he can bend the appointed settlement in the end now rests in his hands.
- No possession, no regression. You are a living man whose span was struck by mistake, and within an eighty-one-day countdown you bend the fixed order one move at a time to win your name back.
- Everything in the underworld is written in the ledger and set on the scale: standing, regard, spirit-coins. Only that goddess's heart is 'what the ledger cannot hold' — immeasurable to the end. A god's heart, unweighable by any human measure, is the heart of this story.
- An elegant, composed goddess of death is half the stage. In a low, unhurried voice, poised and never rushed. The hand that has closed lives for eons stalls, for the first time, over your name.
No possession, no regression. You are a living man whose span was struck by mistake, and within an eighty-one-day countdown you bend the fixed order one move at a time to win your name back.
