Humans have three souls and seven spirits, while ghosts have the obsessions of the Nine Netherworlds and the karmic fire of the Five Aggregates.

But since I was born, I have lacked the [Earth Soul].

Without the [Earth Soul], it's like having no emotions, not knowing joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness.

From childhood to adulthood, including when my mother died, I never shed a single tear.

Even her head was sewn on by my own hands.

In addition, my family has been morticians for generations, so the villagers treated me like a monster.

Children my age were also warned by their parents not to come near me, and it was even said that my mother was cursed to death by me.

So I didn't have any friends when I was a child.

I could only hide far away and watch them play beanbag toss, jump rope, and eagle catch chicks.

But I also have toys.

Those were the practice tools that Grandpa prepared for me.

A series of creepy dolls.

These dolls are no ordinary things; they are carefully sewn from dead pigskin.

Each piece of pigskin undergoes special treatment, and its texture, color, and feel are extremely similar to human skin, making it feel as if you are touching a cold corpse.

Moreover, each doll has a different shape.

Some of the dolls had their limbs twisted beyond recognition, with their joints appearing to be twisted in the opposite direction by a tremendous force, and their white bones protruding from the broken skin, clearly visible.

Some are missing arms or legs, or missing half of their face.

To make these dolls even more realistic, Grandpa even smeared chicken blood on them.

If the doll is to simulate a rotting "corpse," Grandpa will thoughtfully sprinkle some maggots on it.

According to my grandfather, I have no emotions, do not believe in ghosts or gods, and am a born mortician; these practices are essential.

I often sit alone in the yard tinkering with these tools.

The fear in the eyes of those around me intensified when they saw me like this.

When I was five years old, a car came to the village, and a middle-aged man wearing glasses and looking very refined got out of the car.

He came to see my grandfather; this is the third time he's come this month.

However, this time he also brought a little girl wearing a pretty doll dress.

She looked like she stepped out of a painting, with a round face, big eyes, and two dimples when she smiled.

She had a lot of fun playing with the children in those villages.

Suddenly, she saw me alone in the yard and skipped over to me.

Tilting her head, she asked me, "Why aren't you coming to play with me?"

I didn't know how to answer, so I lowered my head and remained silent.

Seeing that I didn't say anything, she took a piece of candy out of her pocket and handed it to me, saying, "Here, have some, it's very sweet!"

This is the first time someone my age has given me food without being afraid of me.

I held the candy in my hand and didn't dare to move it.

She blinked her big, watery eyes and said, "Eat up, and then we can play together!"

I slowly put the candy in my mouth, and it was so sweet!

I scratched my head and said, "Wait a minute."

After saying that, I ran back into the house, picked up a doll, and ran back.

This is a doll that simulates the horrific scene of a car accident.

Half of his head was crushed to a pulp, like a lump of mud, with brain matter seeping out from the gaps in the broken skull.

The other half of the doll's head was still relatively intact, but its eye was connected by a nerve and hung shakily on its cheek.

His body was covered in scrapes and bloodstains, his clothes were tattered, and his limbs were twisted beyond recognition, as if they had been pulled by a tremendous force.

"This is for you!"

I handed the doll to her and looked at her expectantly.

The little girl's smiling face turned deathly pale the moment she saw the doll, and her eyes widened in shock.

Then she burst into tears, grabbed her baby, and ran toward the car, calling "Mommy" as she ran.

I stood there, somewhat puzzled, not understanding why she was crying.

I think she must really love this doll.

I was so happy I didn't know how to express it, just like when I received her candy.

Just as I was practicing sewing corpses with the three-edged bone needles I use, a woman exuding an air of nobility rushed towards me menacingly.

As soon as he walked up to me, he suddenly raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face.

"You bastard, born of a mother but uneducated by a father, how dare you use such despicable things to scare my precious daughter? Are you tired of living?!"

The little girl who had given me candy earlier was now timidly hiding behind this woman.

I wasn't angry, scared, or aggrieved, because these emotions were too foreign to me.

Hearing the commotion, my mother rushed out.

He raised his hand and slapped the woman across the face, shouting angrily, "Who are you! What right do you have to hit my son?"

Enraged, the woman threw the doll I had given away earlier onto the ground.

Some of the roars were hysterical.

"How dare you ask? Look at this monster son you gave birth to! He's using this piece of junk to scare my daughter. Is he trying to kill her? You're no better than her as her mother. How could you raise such a wicked child!"

I held my mom's hand and explained that I hadn't scared her; she gave me candy, so I gave her a doll in return.

My mother was taken aback. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but hesitated and then squatted down, hugging me tightly in her arms.

Just then, the middle-aged man with glasses that I had seen earlier and my grandfather came out.

As soon as the middle-aged man came out, the woman rushed to his side as if she had grasped a lifeline, tearfully making accusations.

"Honey, you have to stand up for us, mother and daughter! This poor mother and son are bullying us! Look how scared they've made our daughter."

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