“…Did I just, mishear something?”

Mijeong doubted her own hearing. As she was contemplating whether the sense she had lost to the swamp monster was her sight or her hearing, Geon-joo stood up and swatted away the restraint of the black hand. He did it with a form that suggested no effort at all, as if the time he had been held helplessly was a lie. Mijeong, noticing this, narrowed her eyes.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“How did you break free?”

This isn’t something that can be broken so easily. The woman added sourly, folding and unfolding her fan as she tilted her head. At her disbelieving tone, Geon-joo let out a baffled laugh.

“You loosened your grip midway through. Did you think I wouldn’t be able to break free from that?”

“I suppose so.”

“…What on earth do you take me for?”

“What do I take you for? I see you as baggage.”

“…”

“Just when I thought some unheard-of brat was joining Noah, he gets kidnapped before the first mission, can’t fight because he can’t see so he has to be protected, and on top of all that, he’s the one our kid cares about, so he can’t get hurt. If that’s not baggage, what is?”

The words that followed, one after another, were truths that hit their mark with such coldness that Geon-joo, unable to properly rebut, just swallowed a sigh and stored the weapon Mijeong had given him in his inventory. He decided he would check the item’s identity after they got out. A new weapon was now in his hand.

An S-rank longsword, the Sword that Counts the Stars.

It was a weapon he had acquired after clearing various Gates alone as a one-man guild. As it happened, it also came with a purification skill, so it was the perfect sword to use in this dungeon. After swinging it lightly, he rolled his wrist.

“At least correct the part about me not knowing how to fight without my sight.”

His words made it sound as if he were about to go out and provide support at any second. Mijeong scoffed.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to help? Now, of all times?”

“Well, I don’t think it’s particularly late, even now.”

As he said that, his head turned towards Ho-cheol. While Sa-yoon was dealing with the swamp monster, new specters had been born from the swamp, and their numbers now far exceeded a hundred. Ho-cheol, who had been precariously dealing with all those specters, now looked quite overwhelmed. It was likely even more so because the specters were beings that did not die.

No matter how many times you killed them, they would eventually revive and attack again.

It must have been a sickeningly tiresome treadmill.

To definitively reduce the enemy’s numbers, one had to aim not for a temporary halt to their breathing, but for their eternal annihilation. For that, a purification skill was needed. Geon-joo readjusted his grip on his sword and looked back at Mijeong. There was no longer any awkwardness in his actions. Even though his eyes couldn’t see, every movement was as natural as a person who could.

“It’s been a while, so I couldn’t remember well. That’s why it took me a long time to get a feel for it, but I’ve got it now.”

“…?”

Mijeong’s eyebrow rose at his utterly incomprehensible words. Lee Han watched him with a wary attitude, as if he would take immediate action if Geon-joo made any suspicious moves or unnecessary solo actions that could disrupt the battle. Receiving that fierce gaze, Geon-joo smiled. The corners of his mouth, drawing a slanted, round arc, bore a striking resemblance to someone.

“Do you think this is the first time I’ve fought without my sight?”

Just as he said, his voice was relaxed, as if he had truly gotten the hang of it. His demeanor even seemed slightly excited, which made Lee Han’s eyes narrow.

The atmosphere was completely different. It was different from when he was talking with Mijeong just a moment ago, and different from when he was talking with Sa-yoon. The man before them now had a somewhat gloomy and unsettling air about him.

It wasn’t just Lee Han who felt it. Mijeong scrunched up her nose, opened her fan, and covered half of her face.

“…Oof. What did you go through growing up to have such a strong yin energy? You need to meet someone with a lot of yang energy. Get some sun, too.”

Though she spoke with a joking tone, a subtle wariness was hidden beneath her nonchalant words. Geon-joo, catching it, laughed lowly and mulled over his conversation with Mijeong from a moment ago. A hum rumbled in his throat.

I need to be his shield, but right now I’m just a weakness, she said.

She was right.

At least when thinking about Sa-yoon, he couldn’t refute those words.

But what if it wasn’t him?

Beneath his eyelids, Geon-joo’s gaze rolled, assessing the presence and level of the Noah members. They weren’t weak, but none of them possessed a presence as intense as Sa-yoon’s. None of them had an aura more dangerous than the monsters on the 80th floor of the Predestined Tower.

Although he had received the System’s help and used a loophole, Han Geon-joo had cleared the Predestined Tower. In the past, he had even cleared those dozens of floors one by one. The abilities he had physically learned had disappeared when time was rewound, but his memories and experiences had not.

Am I weak?

Geon-joo asked himself, but only smiled instead of answering.

You don’t know how to fight without your sight, she said.

There was a time when he had fought for ten days and nights while blind, clearing a floor and barely regaining his sight. Sa-yoon’s advice overlapped with that memory.

Eyes only help you see.

Even if you can’t see what’s in front of you, as long as you can feel, there is no problem in combat or in daily life. As long as you can feel what is where, and what is flying at you from where.

The sense he had vaguely awakened to in the Tower, after being provoked—or rather, not provoked—and almost being eaten by a sense of powerlessness, was now beginning to open up completely.

His senses sharpened. His energy grew keen. The feeling of perceiving vibrations intensified.

KWA-A-A-ANG!

A roar is heard. Geon-joo turned his head in that direction and, feeling a blue form being drawn upon the darkness he could not see, he smiled.

I can see.

• All senses become keener. All stats increase by 5%.

He felt the skill window appear, and then the System’s voice pierced his ears. A triumphant smile on his face, Geon-joo followed Sa-yoon’s movements, then turned to grasp Ho-cheol’s location and the number of specters surrounding him. He took out and put on a pair of half-gloves. The Sword that Counts the Stars was a violent sword. To prevent his palms from being torn while swinging it, a piece of protective gear, however annoying, was essential.

“Shall we make a bet?”

Geon-joo cut through the momentary silence and stretched his body on the palm of the black hand Mijeong’s skill had created. He tapped the floor a couple of times with the toe of his shoe and looked at Mijeong.

“Between the two of us, who is the one who’s no help by hyung’s side.”

“What?”

“I’ll go first. Let’s say the time limit is until we clear this Gate.”

If you’re going to make a provocation, you should take responsibility for it, right?

Geon-joo spoke in a tone mixed with a cold smile and leaped off the black palm.

“Wait…!”

Lee Han saw the scene and reached out his hand, but it was too late. Geon-joo had already run down the wrist of the black hand vertically and was swinging his sword towards Ho-cheol.

“That crazy bastard!”

Lee Han roared at Geon-joo, who was attacking without distinguishing between friend or foe. It was the moment he was about to jump after him to handle the situation.

KWAGAGAGAK!

The sword, emitting a strange light as if it held the stars, released a sword energy that, just before reaching Ho-cheol, split into two, skillfully avoiding the one man and attacking the remaining specters. It was an acrobatic level of control that was hard to believe even seeing it with his own eyes.

“Hmm?”

Ho-cheol, who had been fighting, was startled by the sudden situation and looked at Geon-joo.

“Here with support.”

You looked like you were having a hard time.

Though it could have sounded arrogant, Ho-cheol was not a man who cared about manners and consideration. He laughed, saying he liked his style, and gladly made way for Geon-joo to fight. Geon-joo, not refusing the offer, swung his sword again.

They, too, were two of a kind in their own way.

Another blow was struck, and the specters were cleaved apart. The specters who lost their lives to the Sword that Counts the Stars did not revive again as predicted, but scattered as they were.

The number of enemies, which hadn’t seemed to decrease, quickly began to drop to the double digits. Ho-cheol, who just moments before had been surrounded to the point of being swallowed by specters, regained his composure and rampaged. As if accustomed to such rampaging, Geon-joo calmly did his part and supported Ho-cheol. The flow of battle accelerated. The tide of the battle, which only Sa-yoon had been dominating, began to change.

Mijeong, who grasped the entire situation below through the vibrations she felt, wore a dazed expression.

“Hey, Kwon Sa-yoon…”

You said he was weak?

It was a situation where she didn’t know if she should feel betrayed or dumbfounded. How on earth was a monster who exuded such an aura at that age weak?

No one here, not even Sa-yoon himself, had shown such skill and boldness at that age. In her eyes, he was undoubtedly a hidden dragon,¹ yet Sa-yoon had been coddling and protecting him like a baby chick. If that wasn’t absurd, what was?

Even Lee Han was at a loss for words, just watching Geon-joo’s battle. The heavy sword he swung down from above, the phantom sword created by imbuing his agile movements into the blade, the light and fast swift sword, and the changing sword that freely altered its trajectory.

*It’s the state of Mind-Sword Unity.*²

It was the first time he had seen someone handle a myriad of sword styles at that age.

And strangely…

“He resembles him.”

The acrobatic movements, like landing after flipping backward to dodge an attack, the nimble footwork, and the way he led the battle were all eerily similar to someone. Finally, a hollow laugh escaped Lee Han’s lips.

It had already been well over a year, approaching two, since Night Rat had gone quiet. At first, he thought they had quit their evil deeds, but now he saw there was another purpose.

Was he raising a hidden dragon?

It was a moment that made the back of his head tingle.