CHAPTER 60: CHAPTER 60 - THE GHOST IN THE STEEL

Ruth finally finished all the required reports regarding the Dungeon Break incident. Hunters had already dispersed, government officials were closing their files, and the chaos that once turned the highway into a battlefield was now nothing more than cracked pavement and the faint metallic scent of blood lingering in the air.

She headed toward her car—her black SUV, now slightly scratched from all the flying debris. The moment she opened the door, she saw Adam.

He was fast asleep. His body slumped weakly against the seat, covered in bruises, cuts, and scrapes as if he’d just been thrown out of a warzone. Dried monster blood clung to his skin and clothes, marking every harsh moment he had survived today.

Ruth stood there, silent, simply watching him.

Before she forced her way through, all the way to the Dungeon’s entrance, she had seen Adam fight. There was nothing impressive about him. But then... that same man took down the Goblin King right in front of her, snatching the kill that should’ve been hers.

Without her noticing.

Without her understanding how.

Without any logical explanation.

The questions had been gnawing at her since then. What is this man hiding?

Ruth climbed into the driver’s seat, quietly closing the door so she wouldn’t disturb him. The cabin fell silent—only Adam’s uneven, pained breaths filled the air, like his body was still desperately trying to recover from agony.

She glanced at him from the side.

This man... was her best investment.

Not only to play the role of the Iron Knight she needed. More than that, Adam had explosive potential. Especially considering his father was the Sword Saint, a Hunter of SSS Rank.

If he grew into a force that shook the world, then the greatest triumph would belong to her guild. Every bit of support and resource she poured into him now... was just a small down payment for a future worth a thousand times more.

Her hand reached toward her belt. From there, she drew a slender vial—a crimson liquid swirling inside. A high-grade regenerative potion. Very expensive.

She didn’t hesitate.

Unscrewing the cap, she leaned in toward Adam. Her left hand gently lifted his chin, tilting his head back just enough so his lips parted slightly. His brows twitched for a moment, restless... but he didn’t wake.

She pressed the tip of the vial to his lips and tilted it slowly. Drop by drop, the red liquid flowed into his mouth. She controlled the pace carefully—not too fast, not too much—making sure he swallowed without choking.

Soon, changes began to show. The pale, grimy skin regained color. Bruises faded as if someone gently painted over them. The cuts sealed shut, skin knitting back together like time itself was rewinding. His breathing softened. His sleep eased into something peaceful.

Ruth watched in silence.

Only when the potion was fully emptied did she release his chin.

.

.

.

Drip... Drip... Drip...

I couldn’t clearly remember the shape of that room. Just a shadowy blur—dark, cold, and silent as though the world had stopped spinning. The walls might’ve been stone. Or old wood. I couldn’t tell. But the floor... I remembered the blood on it. Sticky. Warm.

I was only eight years old then.

A boy with stone-gray hair and violet eyes...

Holding a sword.

My hands.

The sword was heavy. Far too heavy for a child. Yet somehow, its edge was already wet, thick drops of crimson sliding down the steel.

I didn’t know what kind of expression I had. Was I blank? Terrified? Confused? My head felt split in two. I wasn’t sure if I was even capable of thinking.

Everything was like a nightmare that felt disturbingly real. I saw the world from two angles at once—one version of me gripping that sword, another version watching helplessly from behind fragile glass.

A man lay in front of me.

Large body. Hair just like mine: messy, stone-gray strands that never behaved. His eyes were violet too... but the light was gone. Empty. His mouth hung slightly open, like he had been trying to speak his final words.

Blood poured from his chest, flowing between floorboards... creeping toward me... toward those small feet.

Warm.

I could feel it. The blood touching my skin made everything more painfully real.

I did not cry. I did not scream. I did not run.

I just stood there... barely breathing... staring at the last traces of life draining away.

And then—

The door opened.

Light from the hallway flooded in. A woman stood there. Her hair flowed like strands of sunlight—golden. Her eyes too, glowing gently like stars.

But when she saw what lay inside...

That golden light dimmed.

As if the stars shattered inside her.

"Adam—?"

Her voice cracked and died. She stumbled inside, gaze locked on the sword in my hands... then followed the trail of blood... until it reached the man’s lifeless form.

Someone she knew.

Someone I knew.

Someone who should’ve still been alive.

I just stared at her.

Maybe I was already sick and broken from the start.

.

.

.

I woke up gasping for air.

My chest heaved violently, as though that nightmare dragged me back into that room. Cold sweat coated my skin, dampening my hair and sticking it to my forehead.

For a few seconds, I forgot who I was now. I still felt like that boy. Still felt the warm blood crawling along my leg.

My hands trembled slightly.

"Fuck..." My voice barely escaped.

Swords...

I hated swords.

They always dragged me back to him.

But that was exactly why I needed to keep using one.

I had killed him once in the real world. Now I had to kill him again... inside my head.

Once my mind finally came together, I noticed something:

This wasn’t Ruth’s car.

I scanned the room. It was too comfortable. White walls, a soft round light on the ceiling, and a faint lavender scent from a diffuser placed neatly in a corner.

And the subtle smell of... leather.

I lay on a neatly made bed, thin blanket half folded aside. All the injuries I had—the bruises, the cuts—gone. Only dried blood remained to prove any of it happened.

Ruth must’ve brought me here.

I inhaled deeply, trying to focus.

How long was I out? Why bring me here?

Questions churned in my head as I instinctively opened my System.

________________

[WEEKLY QUEST]

OBJECTIVE:

Kill 41 Rank D or higher monsters.

TIME LIMIT: 3 Days

REWARD: 200 EXP

FAILURE: The System and all acquired abilities will be permanently lost.

________________

I had killed nine monsters earlier, so the total dropped from fifty to forty-one.

Great.

I muttered to myself under my breath.

"Three days... for forty-one Rank D or higher monsters?"

I stood up from the bed, feeling strangely reinvigorated, better than before the fight. I rolled my shoulders, twisted my wrists. No pain. Perfect.

I grabbed the doorknob and opened it slowly.

The hallway was quiet. Warm yellow lights glowed along the walls, giving the apartment a calm and elegant atmosphere. Everything looked spotless—minimalist yet luxurious.

Then I stopped moving.

Someone appeared right in front of me.

A woman wearing nothing but a towel.