About Black Myth Zhong Kui
No ghosts walked the earth till born of human heart;
Onstage and off, immortals fall to fiends—their perfected art.
Indoors and out, the judge is bound by the same household ties;
The sun is veiled, the moon unmoved—who decrees who lives and who dies?
I turn from worldly tangles and their codes, from glories smeared with sleight.
I raise my sword—I raise it to fight;
With it, I shall judge wrong and right!
