The King of Special Warfare

A girl who looked only seven or eight years old was lying in front of the desk, holding a pen in her small hand, and carefully drew a vertical line on the white paper in front of her.

The white paper was very long, extending back and forth from both ends of the desk, like a white line, so long that there was no end in sight.

The girl's pen moved little by little on the white paper, the vertical line was dark and straight, without any deviation.

It's a very strange space.

Light and dark seem to lose all meaning here.

There is no light or darkness here, the so-called brightness has become an extremely soft color, the surroundings are empty, there is no scenery, only the misty mist is soft around...