If Jhin hadn't stepped in, Ark would never have lifted the lockdown.

Meanwhile, Pete spoke with absolute certainty over the phone.

—"I know why you asked that. I worry too, all the time. What if Ark falls? How are we going to recover the losses we've taken so far?"

"…"

—"Ah, of course, I believed in you. Even if Ark went down, you wouldn't die. I never doubted that you'd find a way to recoup the principal at the very least—"

It hit him again.

This bastard was the kind of guy who'd get dropped in a desert and still find a way to sell sand for profit. What was the point of expecting anything different?

Then again, "Dungeon Merchant Jack" was always this kind of person.

He'd just gotten a little sentimental because he was thinking of the real Pete. But in-game, this version of him fit much better.

He was neither "good" nor "evil."

He was simply—a merchant.

"…Forget it. I wanted to ask you something."

—"Yeah?"

"Who'd you sell the 'Meteor Blade of Calamity' to?"

—"…"

A long pause. Pete's voice came out cautious.

—"…Why? I thought we already talked about that last time…"

"I'm not trying to accuse you. I just heard something weird out here."

Jhin passed on the rumor he'd heard from Caleb—about a fake "Kyle" running around Ark.

Pete let out a violent hiccup the moment he heard that the imposter had the Meteor Blade of Calamity.

—"S-sorry! I didn't think it'd turn out like this!"

"Forget it. It's not like anyone saw this coming. Just tell me—do I know the guy?"

—"No idea. I put it up for auction on the black market."

"…What?"

—"I just wanted to see how much it'd sell for if Kyle's weapon went up…"

So in the end, they had no way of knowing who ended up with it.

—"I really am sorry."

"Whatever. More importantly—how's the restoration work going?"

—"Almost done. Goblins really are something else when it comes to brute labor."

"Work them hard. They were once human, but now they're worse than beasts."

—"Absolutely. Free labor's the best kind."

"…Right."

Among the goblins from the train, the only ones who could freely leave the dungeon despite no dungeon break occurring were those who had qualified as Players.

And those were all people who, in life, had once been criminals.

Their perspectives might have differed, but as far as Jhin was concerned, seeing them suffer was satisfying enough. Pete, no doubt, would work them even harder.

They were free labor, after all.

"Call me when the work's finished."

—"Sure. Should I go through Millie again next time?"

"I'll be upgrading my phone soon. I'll give you my contact then."

After ending the call, Jhin turned to head back toward the group.

But then he saw it—people gathered noisily around something in the street, voices rising with excitement and alarm.

…What now?

The commotion was growing.

"Shouldn't someone stop that?"

"Stop it? With what? Do you even know who that is?"

"He's going to kill someone at this rate!"

"And what are we supposed to do about it?!"

Jhin pushed through the crowd. A few people recognized him and cleared the way without needing to be asked.

What the hell is this?

At the center of the crowd, a man knelt on the ground, slamming his palms down, his voice raw with desperation.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Please… I'm sorry…"

"…Sorry?"

Towering over the kneeling man was a blond foreigner with piercing blue eyes. His voice was sharp, nearly a growl.

"If you're sorry, then you should be ready to pay the price."

In a flash, the foreigner drew his blade from his belt.

From the hilt to the tip, it was pitch-black—a dagger that radiated a chilling aura, like it could suck the air right out of your lungs.

Just looking at it made people go still.

"You'll pay for it—with your life."

"N-no! Please, anything but that!"

"Oh? So maybe you're not that sorry after all?"

The man's tone dripped with venom as he slowly raised the dagger. As the blade crept forward, the man on his knees trembled so badly that yellow liquid trickled down his pant leg.

"…Disgusting."

But the dagger didn't stop.

It pressed forward—headed straight for the man's throat. The line it took made it clear it would slice his carotid artery without fail.

And then—

CHIIINNG!

At the last possible second, the black dagger ricocheted off a gleaming white blade.

Without much reaction, the foreigner withdrew his weapon and locked eyes with the man who'd interfered.

"…Who the hell are you?"

Jhin didn't answer right away. He glanced down at the trembling man on the ground, his skin pale as death. The blade hadn't even touched him—he hadn't suffered a scratch.

Lucky.

If that dagger had so much as grazed him, the man would be dead.

"No answer?"

Jhin's gaze shifted upward—toward the dagger now pointed at his own neck. He met those cold, blue eyes without flinching and answered clearly.

"Kyle."

"…What?"

"I said I'm Kyle. You cheap knockoff."

The rumors swirling around Ark about "Kyle" were far from flattering.

A ruthless, brutal man—foul-tempered and arrogant to the core.

It was almost predictable. With all the dark adjectives that had attached themselves to his name, it wasn't surprising.

The "Fake Kyle" who had taken the real one's place in his absence was clearly a tyrant—and very much not a good man.

But still… this bad?

From the murmurs in the crowd, Jhin quickly pieced together what had happened.

"He tried to kill someone just for bumping shoulders?"

That was it.

The kneeling man had begged and groveled, and the dagger at his throat? It was all over an accidental brush in the street.

The imposter narrowed his eyes, locking them on Jhin. Those blue irises, fevered with madness, gleamed like a child who'd just found a new toy.

"…Kyle, you say?"

SHIIING!

The dagger came stabbing in without warning. Jhin immediately swung his Master of chaos sword to meet the attack head-on.

That was enough to tell him.

This man hadn't just stolen a name.

He was strong.

Sparks burst from the collision. The clash of magical energy sent a windstorm whipping through the street, scattering the onlookers like leaves in a gale.

Even so, the distance between the two fighters neither widened nor closed.

Jhin growled through gritted teeth.

"…Who the hell are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

A flurry of exchanges followed. The imposter's dagger stabbed at odd angles, but Jhin blocked and deflected them effortlessly, slashing back in diagonal arcs.

The dagger slipped past in a grazing angle, aiming for his heart—but again, he parried it with ease.

Neither one could land a blow.

Incredible as it was, this man kept up with Jhin physically.

And neither of them was fighting seriously yet.

Jhin's blade began to emit a white, icy mist. From the imposter's dagger, darkness began to ooze like smoke.

A clash of black and white.

As the battle escalated, the bystanders had long retreated. In their place, Ark's soldiers had arrived—forming a perimeter and leveling their guns at the combatants.

Tense and visibly nervous, they shouted:

"Cease combat immediately! I repeat—cease combat!"

Another soldier's voice shook as he added:

"At this rate, the building will collapse!"

Only then did Jhin push his opponent back and reset his stance. At this pace, the soldiers weren't wrong—the building wouldn't hold.

And the soldiers now had their rifles aimed squarely at him.

"Who are you? Identify yourself!"

"…Why are your guns pointed at me?"

"We already know his identity."

Even with their weapons drawn, the soldiers' tone remained formally polite.

Jhin let out a sigh and said quietly:

"…Kyle."

"Come again?"

"I said, I'm the real Kyle."

A rumor spreads faster than legs can carry.

And right now, Ark was in an uproar.

"What do you mean, there are two Kyles?"

"I don't know. That's what everyone's freaking out about."

"Explain! What exactly happened?!"

"It was in Sector 2. Apparently, Kyle got into it with some folks from Sector 3…"

Jhin's battle with the "known" Kyle, and his bold claim to be the real one—it was perfect fuel for gossip.

A new Kyle.

For the many citizens of Ark who had resented the tyrant Kyle, it was the perfect opening.

"Tch… I knew it. I always said there's no way Kyle would really act like that."

"Right? That bastard… how dare he impersonate Kyle?"

"I hope he gets what's coming to him."

Kyle, even before the fake showed up, had been practically deified.

Now there was one Kyle trying to kill someone for a shoulder bump—and another who stepped in to stop it.

People wanted—whether they admitted it or not—for the second one to be the real K.

And apparently, the new Kyle had saved the Sector 3 refugees from certain death.

Still, not everyone agreed.

"Only one of them is telling the truth."

"…Isn't it obvious the second guy's fake? The Meteor Blade of Calamity proves it."

"I mean, that's solid evidence. I can't deny that."

Naturally, the controversy reached Ark's upper ranks. A meeting was convened almost immediately.

Kyle's position in Ark was far more significant than most realized.

"We'll begin the meeting."

Storm stood at the front of the conference room and began his briefing.

Ark's military had successfully reclaimed the frontlines in Sector 3. A triumphant update.

But no one was really listening.

The reason was clear.

Two men sat at one end of the room—the two Kyles who had become the talk of the entire base.

Storm understood. So he wrapped up the briefing quickly and got to the point.

"There is a far more critical issue than the report."

His gaze swept over the two men.

A blond-haired foreigner with piercing blue eyes. A black-haired Corelands n man with a quiet, commanding presence.

They couldn't have looked more different—but they both shared the same name.

"As you may know, there was a minor skirmish within the perimeter earlier today. It began with a clash between Kyle and a Sector 3 civilian—"

BANG!

A towering man abruptly slammed the table and stood.

"This is outrageous! Holding a meeting to slander Kyle?! Have you all lost your minds?!"

"Please sit down. The briefing is not yet complete."

"It doesn't matter! Do you even understand the mistake you're making?!"

The man thumped his chest in frustration.

"What happens if Kyle gets fed up and leaves Ark, huh? Who'll take responsibility for that? Huh?! And we have proof—it's the Meteor Blade of Calamity!"

Storm kept his eyes on the shouting man.

Freddie. One of the tyrant Kyle's known associates.

To him, of course, Jhin would never look like the real Kyle.