I was born a dead man, raised by my foster father inside a coffin, my life sustained by the "toll money for the underworld" he paid to keep me alive. After my foster father passed away, I had no choice but to enter the Den of Vengeful Spirits to survive. There, I bowed three times and kowtowed nine times before a coffin, swearing allegiance to the corpse as my master. I carried coffins and buried ghosts, spending my life entangled with all manner of bizarre and malevolent spirits, just like the generations of disciples of the Coffin Sect before me. Nine Peaks that subdue corpses, coffins adrift in a sea of blood, cities built of white bones... Burying ghosts, burying humans, burying demons... Danger lurks everywhere, and every step is fraught with terror; I never knew how much longer I might live. It wasn't until I deciphered the ghostly nursery rhyme I'd heard when I became a disciple that I discovered the Coffin Sect actually harbors a secret of earth-shattering proportions...