When the cold wind blew between Ryu Sunghyun and the “Ryu Sunghyun,” both men moved at once.
Like mirrors reflecting each other, the two swung their swords in perfect unison.
The golden blades crossed and clashed. Beneath the scattering strands of hair, the light-brown eyes glimmered gold from the sparks bursting off the sword edges.
At first glance, their faces were indistinguishable.
But when seen up close, faint differences could be found—the slightly higher curve of the lips, the drowsy tilt in the eyes.
A difference of two years. And the marks of two separate lives.
Even without an explanation from the “Ryu Sunghyun” before him or from Cha Seohu, he could tell. That man was himself—someone who had lived another life in another world.
And just as much as he himself—or perhaps even more—he cherished Cha Seohu.
Why would another version of himself from a different life care for this world’s Cha Seohu? Why did the two know each other?
There were many questions. But before any of them could surface, another feeling came first.
Compassion.
Once jealousy and competitiveness faded, what remained was only sorrow for another self whose ending was already approaching.
Their swords met again and again in a relentless rhythm. Kakang! Each collision of the sharp, solid light-forged blades left Ryu Sunghyun’s heart drifting and unsteady.
At last, the two deflected each other’s swords and leapt back, widening the distance.
Seeing the faint ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) smile on the “Ryu Sunghyun” standing across from him, Ryu Sunghyun could no longer hold back his words.
“...Shouldn’t you go to Hunter Cha Seohu?”
The “Ryu Sunghyun’s” sword hand halted mid-air.
“I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but it looked like it’s been a very long time since you met.”
“......”
“I’m fine now. You know as well as I do that no matter how many more times we cross swords, nothing significant will change. You should go see Hunter Cha Seohu instead—”
“That can’t happen.”
The “Ryu Sunghyun” answered firmly, his smile twisting bitterly.
“No matter how much I want to, I can’t. Ryu Sunghyun, this place... shouldn’t exist in reality. I’m not supposed to be here, and I’m not supposed to meet Seohu.”
He lowered the sword he was holding.
“Right now, I’m nothing but a harmful presence to Seohu. I shouldn’t appear before him, shouldn’t get close to him. I’ve already chosen the role I came here to play.”
“And that role is to teach me?”
Ryu Sunghyun’s eyes distorted in pain.
“There’s no way Hunter Cha Seohu would long for someone who only harms him. You’ve already appeared—why avoid him? If you really... have no choice but to disappear, then even this brief moment should be precious.”
Even if it was himself, Ryu Sunghyun couldn’t understand the man before him in this one thing.
If he were in that position?
If he would vanish after this, never to see Cha Seohu again?
He was sorry for the “Ryu Sunghyun,” but he would never waste the time teaching someone skills. Even if that someone were himself.
He would have lost his reason, desperate to spend even a little more time with Cha Seohu.
But did that mean this “Ryu Sunghyun” cared for Cha Seohu any less? Absolutely not.
He was older—he must have spent that much more time with Seohu.
Even without thinking it through, Ryu Sunghyun could see it clearly in his gaze—the way he looked at Cha Seohu left no room for doubt.
That was exactly why he couldn’t understand.
“Why?”
The “Ryu Sunghyun” looked at the confused man before him for a long moment, then spoke calmly.
“Because it has to be this way.”
“...What do you mean?”
“It means the path’s already been decided.”
He lifted his head.
Under a sky heavy with black clouds, someone floated quietly, black wings spread wide.
As instructed by Cha Seohu not to interfere, Cha Sahyeon hovered in the air, watching the two of them. His emotionless green eyes were fixed precisely on the “Ryu Sunghyun.”
But unlike before, there was no murderous intent. His gaze was one of weighing and analysis.
“...A predetermined path.”
The “Ryu Sunghyun” repeated as he looked up at Cha Sahyeon.
“Once you’ve seen it, there’s no turning onto another. Because what lies at the end is what I want.”
Murmuring that cryptic line while staring at Sahyeon, the “Ryu Sunghyun” raised his sword once more.
“Now—this is the last.”
“......”
“When the time comes to decide, don’t hesitate. Do it properly, clearly. That’s the role you have to play here.”
With those words, the “Ryu Sunghyun” smiled gently—a sincere smile Ryu Sunghyun saw for the first time.
He was the “Ryu Sunghyun” assigned to teach another version of himself.
And the one who had to stop him, understanding nothing.
If all of this was a predetermined path, roles set by someone else—
'Then what role does Cha Seohu have?'
Blocking the oncoming strike, Ryu Sunghyun swallowed the question he couldn’t bring himself to voice.
“Apply the buff.”
A strong force pressed against the back of my neck. A low voice spoke right behind me.
I twisted my lips.
“Why should I?”
If anyone deserved a buff, it was Kwon Taehyuk and Eun Woojeong.
Without hesitation, I moved my arm.
Even with the difference in strength due to his skill, right now I was using the body of an S-rank dealer. Letting myself be held that easily hurt my pride.
I grabbed Mook Jeongho’s arm with my left hand, twisted my body as far as I could, and swung the sword in my right.
He wouldn’t go down easily, so I aimed straight for his heart. A flicker of light passed through Mook Jeongho’s eyes.
His hand moved too fast to see. He released my neck and instantly deflected my blade with the back of his hand.
Kang!
Even though it was just a human hand, the sound was like steel clashing.
Not a scratch on the leather gloves. His arm shot out toward me again, but I wasn’t facing him alone. As expected, someone seized the opening between us, their blade slicing in.
“Hunter Cha Seohu, over here!”
Pababak! Three blades struck the ground, driving Mook Jeongho back and widening the distance between us.
Not missing the chance, I leapt back lightly, gripped my sword again, and set my stance. Then chains fell from the sky.
“See? Would’ve been so much easier if I’d just tied you up and carried you around like baggage from the start.”
With a lighthearted sigh, Eun Woojeong slid down the chains from the tree and landed in an instant.
The hem of his red robe fluttered as he moved gracefully. In the blink of an eye, dozens of summoned chains bound Mook Jeongho’s limbs. Just as his gloved hand reached for my collar—
Crunch!
Mook Jeongho tore through all the chains with sheer strength alone. His freed left arm swung outward.
“Whoa.”
Eun Woojeong bent at the waist, dodging the huge hand that tried to grab his hair, and called out brightly,
“Sorry, but my hair’s too precious for beast hands like yours to touch—huh?”
He stopped mid-sentence. Mook Jeongho also froze, suddenly turning his head toward something.
“...?”
I blinked, feeling the atmosphere turn cold as I’d been waiting for a chance to intervene.
Just as I was about to ask what was going on, the wind shifted direction and a familiar scent grew thick in the air.
Blood. So strong it meant someone’s life was in danger.
For a brief moment my mind went blank. A chill of dread climbed my spine, but my brain refused to accept what it sensed.
Slowly, I turned my head.
Dust rose and drifted like heat haze in the wind. Through the shimmering haze, two people stood facing each other.
“Ha-ha.”
One Ryu Sunghyun gave a faint laugh.
“Good job. Yes... that’s more like me.”
Murmuring playfully, Ryu Sunghyun coughed harshly, his head bowing. Scarlet blood splattered down.
At that, the other Ryu Sunghyun—the one who had driven his sword into him—started to say something, then clenched his teeth and held back. I could only stare blankly at the scene.
Ryu Sunghyun?
No. It was “Ryu Sunghyun.”
The sword in Ryu Sunghyun’s hand was so perfectly shaped it had fooled me.
Which meant...
That person—
“Ah.”
The one impaled by the sword was—
“Ah, ah.”
I stumbled forward in a rush. My vision blurred, body swaying. Someone called my name sharply and caught me, but I barely noticed.
I just kept walking. My body was weak, my steps faltering, so I half-leaned on the person supporting me as I moved toward him.
“H-hyung. Hyung...”
The moment I reached him, the “Ryu Sunghyun” dropped to his knees. Cold sweat slid down his pale face, and the corners of his lips were stained with the red he’d just coughed up.
Even so, he barely lifted his head and looked at me—his faint smile blurred through the blood.

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