If one were to look back at the history of this world through a lens of blood and darkness, it would be defined by a single word: The Curse. It was a descent into a nightmare where human life was no longer sacred, but merely a pawn in a series of lethal, supernatural games.
The nightmare began ten years ago. It happened under the gaze of a radiant Full Moon. That night, anyone who dared to step out into the moonlight was found dead by dawn. In a single night of lunar brilliance, fifty million souls were extinguished across the globe. Only those who had remained sheltered indoors survived to see the next day.
World governments, desperate to maintain order, dismissed the mass casualties as a mysterious plague. Humanity remained blissfully ignorant of the truth—that the silver light of the moon had become a conductor for a primordial curse.
But the pattern repeated. Each time the Full Moon graced the sky, those caught in its glow perished. When scientists finally performed autopsies on the victims, they uncovered a chilling reality that sent the world into a state of absolute paralysis. The bodies were intact on the outside, but inside, they were hollow shells. The vital organs—the heart, the liver, the kidneys—had vanished. It was as if something had reached through their skin and plucked their insides out without leaving a single mark or incision.
Panic turned into a desperate vigil. The era was dubbed "The Awakening of the Death Games."
Amidst this chaos, a man named Baryno emerged—a figure of terrifying intelligence and power. Baryno had been one of the first caught in the moonlight. He had died that morning, but as his body was being lowered into the cold earth for burial, his eyes snapped open. He rose from his grave, his face a mask of trauma and lingering horror.
The mourners recoiled in terror. "How... how are you alive? You were dead!" someone screamed.
Baryno looked at his trembling hands, his voice a ragged whisper. "That place... it is a realm of pure malice. Those who lose the game have their organs harvested to feed monsters. It is a world of endless nightmares. I barely survived their 'Death Games,' and now, I am bound to them until every single game is conquered."
Baryno warned humanity: the moonlight was no longer just light. It was a carrier for Cursed Souls. To be touched by the light was to be Infected—marked by the curse itself. The moment an infected person fell asleep, their soul was dragged into the Infinity Death Games. The rule was simple: Level up through blood and victory, or lose and offer your humanity to the Master of the Realm—The Ace Master, Gromo.
For five years, humanity learned to hide. They stayed indoors during the Full Moon, successfully halting the mass deaths. They thought they had won. They thought they were safe.
Then, a scream tore through the fabric of reality. It was a sound so piercing, so unnatural, that it vibrated in the bones of every living human. Then came the voice—deep, ancient, and dripping with authority.
"Humans... I am Gromo, the Ace Master. My purpose is simple: I seek a King. A King powerful enough to command my legions of Cursed Slaves. To find him, you must all pass through the Death Games. Those who fall shall die; those who prevail shall ascend as a King of Curses. The choice is yours. Return to my realm, and I promise you a fair chance at divinity. I shall be waiting."
The world erupted in fury. "We are not fodder for your sick games!" people shouted, rejecting the offer with venomous rage. But Gromo was steps ahead. He issued a final, chilling ultimatum: If humanity refused to enter his world, he would merge the two realms. He would tear open a gateway and let the curse spill into the mortal world, ensuring the total extinction of the human race.
Panic turned to curiosity when Baryno—still bound to the games—returned from a night's sleep with a smile. "At first, it was a curse," he told the crowds. "But now? It's a thrill. The power I gain there is unlike anything on Earth."
He raised his hand, and as if by magic, hundreds of gold coins began to pour from his palm, clattering onto the pavement. The onlookers stared, their eyes wide with greed. "This is nothing," Baryno grinned. "I earn five gold coins for every step I take in that world. Imagine what happens when I take five hundred thousand steps."
Greed proved more powerful than fear. Tempted by Baryno's wealth, a hundred brave souls stepped into the moonlight to become Infected. They crossed over... but they never returned.
Even Baryno was found dead shortly after. It was all a deception—a trap set by Gromo. The real Baryno had died long ago; the one who spoke was merely a puppet.
Now, humanity is trapped like birds in a gilded cage. There is no one left to challenge the Infinity Death Games. No King has risen to claim the Curses. Humanity stands at a crossroads: either find a champion capable of surviving the slaughter, or wait for Gromo to tear down the walls of their world and consume them all.