I was never the kind of person you’d call nice. No, to be honest, I leaned closer to being a bad person.

Fistfights had been a daily routine since I was a kid. I fought often, and once a fight started, I always saw it through to the end.

Thanks to that, I even earned the cute nickname “Scrapper.”

I was endlessly generous to those I considered my own.

But if someone wasn’t one of mine?

I saw no reason to be kind.

Maybe it was the military that shook me out of that black-and-white mindset. Around that time, I learned how to suppress my anger and pretend to be a good person.

Because there, I didn’t have anyone who was “mine.”

And the Old Man already knew this side of me.

That day, training wasn’t going well.

It wasn’t that my body was sluggish or my head was clouded, but somehow, everything felt off.

The spear didn’t extend as I expected, and my center of gravity was off.

In the end, I emptied my mind and started smashing the scarecrows.

As if wiping away my thoughts, as if shaking off my emotions—I just swung wildly.

Not just one or two.

By the time I’d smashed around 200 in a row, the training ground was in ruins and completely silent.

Broken wooden parts floated in the air, then slowly sank to the ground.

Shattered remains were scattered all around me. My fingertips were trembling with heat.

I let out a breath and gripped my spear even tighter.

This still isn’t enough.

The Demons are strong. Especially the executive-level ones—they’re monsters wearing human skin.

Like this... can I really stand in front of the key characters and lead them?

Can I protect them?

I kept asking myself the same question, over and over.

“It’s not something I don’t understand.”

How many hours had I been lost in thought?

A quiet voice came from behind me.

I slowly turned my head.

It was the Old Man.

“Ah... you’re here?”

I tried to maintain my composure, but that kind of front was meaningless in front of him.

He knew me too well. He could already see through every emotion tangled in my eyes.

“...You don’t have to completely suppress your inner rage.”

He closed his eyes.

“After all, that too is a part of you.”

I quietly mulled over his words.

I don’t have to suppress it, huh...

I sat down and closed my eyes, looking inward.

Deep inside, where my messy and incomplete emotions were twisted together.

The constantly boiling rage born from my own shortcomings.

And the quiet sense of helplessness tinged with fatigue.

Between the two, I had always whipped myself, trying to suppress them.

Anger is a useless emotion. Restlessness and instability are weaknesses.

That’s what I believed.

So rather than control myself, I focused on suppressing my emotions.

But... is that really true?

If the Old Man’s right, and there’s no need to suppress them—

Then wouldn’t it be better to accept them instead?

I took a deep breath.

And in that moment, I faced the emotions that ruled me—just as they were.

Hot, cold, overwhelming, hollow.

But contrary to my expectations, the emotions didn’t try to control me.

I slowly began to harmonize with them.

Without suppressing them, without denying them. I just let them flow.

So they wouldn’t mix chaotically, but also wouldn’t be entirely discarded.

I’m not some wild beast gone mad,

But I’m not a Buddha enduring everything either.

I have emotions.

But I am not controlled by them.

I opened my eyes.

My entire body was soaked in sweat.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Looking around, I realized three days had passed. The Old Man was standing behind me.

He had his eyes closed.

“...You did well.”

He left me with those short words and turned his back.

And as he walked out the door, he added,

“And congratulations.”

Still seated, I looked up at the message that had appeared before my eyes.

[You have acquired 『Clear Mirror, Still Water』.]

This was the reason I came to be known as the Silent Ghost.

***

Just that one sentence stirred something inside me.

I considered Cheon Yeoul to be mine. She was a character I created, and I treated her with affection because of that.

And Johan was touching what was mine. Treating her like a tool, trying to take her away from me.

So, naturally—I was angry.

It was the most obvious thing in the world, but in recent times, this process hadn’t existed for me.

Instead, my heart felt... lighter. This too was my emotion, and I would accept it.

I faintly lifted the corner of my mouth.

At that moment, Johan swung his sword back and released mana. His body, suddenly reinforced, surged forward.

My vision expanded.

The manifestation of Total Perception.

Where would he attack from? It was obvious. Straight on—he’s a Hero, after all.

I twisted my grip lightly on the spear.

–Clang!!

I placed the spear precisely in the path of his strike.

Neither of us stepped back an inch.

A sudden clash of strength unfolded.

Blade and spear locked together, pressing against one another.

Johan forcefully pumped mana into his sword, pushing it with explosive power.

This much...

But I had already gauged his level.

A twitch formed between Johan’s brows. His once-composed expression was slowly overtaken by unease.

I could feel a faint tremble in his grip, passed through the blade into my fingertips.

His sword wavered.

In that instant, he narrowed his eyes—then twisted his sword hard and stepped back.

Realizing he was being pushed back, he immediately tried to widen the distance.

And that was his mistake.

I used the recoil from the twist to spin my body, pulled the spear from my waist, and hurled it at him.

–Shraaak!

A sharp rupture cut through the air.

The spear shot straight # Nоvеlight # for his head. He flinched and instinctively raised his sword to deflect it.

For a moment, a smile returned to his lips.

Maybe he thought, now that the spear was gone, he’d regained control of the fight.

But that was my opening. I had no intention of dragging this battle out.

The moment he deflected the spear, I lunged in, throwing my entire body forward. In a flash, I yanked my smartwatch from my wrist and wrapped it around my knuckles like brass knuckles.

–Thud!

And that strike landed cleanly in his side.

“Urgh!”

Johan opened his mouth, but he couldn’t even let out a groan.

Dust rose above our heads.

I had no plans to stop.

Once again, I slammed the exact same spot—harder.

–Crunch!

This time, it went in deep.

The distinct sensation of bone breaking echoed up through the back of my hand.

Johan’s body twisted violently.

He reflexively swung his sword. But his eyes were unfocused, his strength already drained.

There was no power behind the strike.

I tilted my head slightly to dodge the blade.

And—my fist, with the makeshift knuckle, struck his face.

–Crack!

Blood sprayed as Johan’s head snapped backward.

For a moment, his body lifted off the ground.

And then—

–Boom!

He slammed harshly into the floor. And I was right there with him.

I climbed on top of his collapsing body.

–Crack!

And once again, I smashed my fist into his face.

–BEEEEEEEP!!

The match-ending buzzer rang throughout the arena.

I paused briefly.

When I looked up, Johan’s body had already been flung outside the ring.

His disqualification loss. My disqualification win.

So that’s how it is.

I didn’t really care.

My blood-soaked fist crashed down once more into Johan’s face like a stake.

–Wham!

The impact made his head bounce off the floor like a ball.

A few teeth scattered across the cracked tiles, splattering in the blood.

I brushed off my hands and stood up. The metal watch around my fingers was shattered beyond recognition.

I ripped the remains off and tossed them onto the ground.

I looked around. The stands were silent.

An awkward stillness.

People were staring at me, speechless.

Then, the announcer stammered,

“...Th-The winner is—Jeong Haein!”

And in that moment—

–WOOOOOOOOOOOH!!

A thunderous roar exploded from the crowd.

I covered my ears slightly.

Too loud.