If I slipped up even a little, I’d end up in the hospital for a long time.
That was the thought that crossed my mind as I blocked the third strike.
Yun wasn’t holding back at all. He wasn’t using his preferred guns or explosives, so he wasn’t fighting at full power—but still, the sheer sharpness of his killing intent made me catch my breath.
If I hadn’t deflected that last strike with my blade, he would have slit my artery.
This man knew far too well how to end the life of a humanoid being.
Clang!
Fourth clash.
When I’d sparred with the mushroom Creature, it had taken thirty-four tries. Now, after only four exchanges, my muscles were already screaming.
I couldn’t just stay on defense forever.
I tightened my stance, preparing for the next move.
As I straightened my knees, Yun appeared directly ahead.
He had erased every trace of killing intent and was simply looking at me. I blinked in surprise.
“You still can’t cross the line,” he said.
“If you keep that up, you’ll never regain your full strength.”
“...Sir?”
“Stop hesitating just because your opponent’s human.”
He flicked the blade he was pointing at me.
“You keep holding yourself back so you don’t kill anyone—that’s why you can’t cross that boundary.”
But isn’t that...
...a normal way of thinking?
Shouldn’t you try not to kill people?
Even with enhanced bodies—if someone’s cut in half, like Massu Sarin had been—they die all the same.
My power wasn’t what it used to be, but even so—
If I wasn’t careful, someone could die. Being cautious was the only sane thing to do.
Wasn’t careful restraint the normal reaction for a human being holding a weapon?
I didn’t get the chance to voice it.
Because the moment I was lost in thought, he lunged.
No—he was already inside my guard.
Ah.
If I didn’t block this, it would be fatal.
The tip of his sword was aimed directly at my heart.
If I didn’t deflect it—
—I’d be pierced through.
Boom!
My arm moved on instinct.
Just before the blade could dig into flesh, I struck back. I forgot who the opponent was—I just reacted. A counterattack fueled by sheer survival instinct, powerful enough to overwhelm almost any threat.
The wall of the training hall exploded under the impact.
Through the haze of dust, I gasped for breath.
Damn it.
I’d done it.
“Ah.”
A low voice came from within the dust cloud, and I flinched.
My arm still throbbed from the shock of the strike. The muscles ached, and my greatsword’s edge had chipped.
It felt like remembering a long-forgotten technique.
The smell of blood filled the air.
Out of the smoke, the man walked forward.
“Now you’re finally worth something,” Yun said, spitting blood.
The wound that had run across his neck and ear was already closing. His shirt and black hair were soaked with red.
He wiped the blood from his face.
Then, smiling, he raked his blood-damp bangs back with his fingers.
“You know you only improve by going all the way, old man.”
“Why are you suddenly talking like that?”
“Next time, I’ll face you with a rifle. Set a date.”
He tossed the broken blade to the ground and kicked it aside.
Even as he peeled off his bloodied windbreaker, a satisfied °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° smile stayed on his lips.
A kind of smile I’d never seen before.
“When you fight nobodies, your skills stagnate.”
Wasn’t I supposed to have graduated already?
“Book the training hall yourself,” he said.
“Book it? Me?”
“Who else?”
“...So you mean next time you’ll come at me with a rifle and try to kill me for real?”
“That’s how both of us get better.”
He answered in a tone that implied why are you asking obvious things.
I stared at him blankly.
Those black eyes looked straight at me—cold, clean irises. I’d finally managed to slice the edge of his coat. I’d almost sliced his neck instead.
That was a major improvement. Proof that I was steadily regaining my former strength.
But strangely, I didn’t feel as proud as I’d imagined.
If anything, watching my mentor’s enjoyment, what I felt was...
“Show some respect for your elders,” I muttered, half in shock at the cruelty carved into his nature.
“Respect your elders.”
“Who brings up age in the organization?” Yun replied as if he’d never just called me old man.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and added,
“You ever heard of the seniority system?”
Bastard.
Pick one thing and stick to it.
The curse stayed inside, never leaving my mouth.
Resigned, I nodded gloomily, more battered than before the sparring even started.
***
The next day, I got a message from the Personnel Director.
[Personnel Director: Let’s give it a little time! ^^]
He meant Ricardo.
I doubted waiting would change anything... but I couldn’t say that, so I sent a formal reply.
After that, I didn’t leave the house all day. I holed up in my cabin. No going out, no games—just lying stretched out on the beanbag, answering messages as they came in.
Hesh and Tom both sent congratulatory texts for my discharge.
They’d received their own assignments already.
Fortunately, with the annual Center Core Territory Expansion War scheduled soon, both of them would stay stationed here.
[Group Chat / Hesh: I’m in E Zone tomorrow. Some repair job.]
[Group Chat / Tom: I’m restocking supplies in the Library of Beginnings and checking Core devices for the expansion war.]
So I’m the only one on Patrol.
That meant I’d be eating with Jonathan Kudo for a while. During patrols, partners ate together.
Meals wouldn’t be as relaxed as before, that much was obvious.
Feeling a bit down about it, I sent a text—but Tom and Hesh didn’t care about my meal schedule.
They were still furious about the kidnappers.
[Group Chat / Hesh: Permanent scars and they only got twenty years? Unreal.]
[Group Chat / Tom: You sure you’re okay?]
[Group Chat / Me: I told you, I’m fine, gentlemen....]
[Group Chat / Tom: Honestly, I don’t really believe you anymore when you say that.]
[Group Chat / Hesh: Yeah, me neither.]
[Group Chat / Me: I’m fine. Completely fine.]
[Group Chat / Hesh: Still, twenty years? Should’ve been life at least.]
[Group Chat / Me: Calm down. They’ve already been punished enough.]
Because they’re dead.
Even while I was hospitalized, Spitfire had sent a message.
Erich Erhart—who had personally taken the culprits before anyone else could.
His message seemed to have voice support.
[Spitfire: They weren’t very interesting people. Anyway, they’re gone now. ^^]
As Yun had said, he hadn’t gotten any useful information from them.
But the platinum-haired Elder had promised to find the mysterious newcomer who had manipulated things behind the scenes. I seemed to have provoked his odd competitive streak—he hadn’t encountered anyone who could slip past his radar in a long time.
And, true to form, he seemed delighted that someone out there bore a grudge against me.
He said the situation was getting fascinating, then changed the subject.
[Spitfire: By the way, have you opened the gift I sent?]
The white box I’d received from his golden-haired attendant.
The flowers that came with it had already wilted. But the white box still sat quietly inside my cabin. I hadn’t not opened it—just hadn’t taken it out.
Inside the box was a work of art.
[Spitfire: Naturally, it’s authentic. Handle it carefully—it’s fragile.]
I knew. That was the problem.
Months ago, when I saw the tightly packaged canvas, I’d felt a chill and called Yun. Grumbling, he came to my cabin and immediately recognized it.
Clicking his tongue, he told me what it was.
Since it was a gift from an Elder, it couldn’t be fake—and what he said left me stunned.
Prometheus Bound in Chains by Peter Paul Rubens.
A masterpiece by a seventeenth-century Baroque painter.
Why the hell would he give that to me?
[Spitfire: Hang it somewhere cool, away from sunlight!]
Did this man have any idea my cabin was smaller than one of his guest bathrooms?
I wanted to donate it to a museum immediately, but I couldn’t handle the backlash that would follow. For similar reasons, I was still driving the luxury car Colton had given me.
I wouldn’t even know how to answer if someone asked where I got it.
So the painting remained in its box, carefully stored in the most comfortable corner of my cabin.
Still lying on the beanbag, I stared at the box.
I’d never cared much for the title the Elders gave me—but lately, every time I heard that nickname, it tangled up my chest.
Recently, the Elders had held a meeting where they’d given Kyle his own title.
The one who had begun to move.
The leader of the Titans.
Kyle’s title, of course, was Chronos.
Unlike me, who had turned my back on the Titans.
[Shu: Someone posted a From series Easter egg discovery on a game forum. Want me to share it?]
A message came from my senior.
I shook off my thoughts and typed back.
[Me: Yes! Thank you. I’ll check it out as soon as I have time.]
[Shu: They didn’t solve all of it yet, but take a look later. How’s your body feeling?]
I still needed to replay From E and try From K.
Urgent matters had pushed gaming to the side. I couldn’t keep focusing on a game without knowing what to expect.
But I really should play it soon.
I’ll rest just for today.
After answering the flood of “you okay?” messages from my seniors, I fell asleep—feeling heavy, staring at the silent chat window with one particular senior.
The day before my first patrol.
Sleep finally took me like a weight.
Even my dreams were heavy that night.
***
“Sunbae.”
The next morning.
With my sword at my side, I arrived at the designated location—and smiled faintly at the familiar face before me.
“It’s been a while.”
Jonathan Kudo looked at me blankly.
He stared as if seeing me for the first time.
He seemed to have completely forgotten the time we’d spent trapped in that collapsed building together. There wasn’t even the faint recognition one shows when seeing someone they’ve met before.
Does this man not even remember my name?
Best not to expect anything.
I smiled lightly and extended my right hand.
“I’m Hildebert Taleb. Just passed the promotion exam.”
Jonathan Kudo... didn’t even seem to see my hand.
He gave the slightest nod, turned his head away—
—and started walking into the busy street.
“Let’s go.”
