Silence blanketed the streets of Osaka like a heavy cloak, but Ryoji's footsteps cut through the stillness with an eerie steadiness. His body moved, yet his face… it looked as if life had abandoned it long ago. Nothing but a deadly coldness remained, and eyes filled with a hatred that had been woven over the years.
He walked without hesitation, as if his feet already knew the path of revenge without needing thought. He stopped in front of an old building that seemed to have barely survived years of neglect. Cracks lined the walls, the paint was peeling, and some of the windows were shattered.
He stood before the door, then placed his fingers parallel to each other, both hands pointing downward. He focused his breath…
Enhancement: "Reflection."
In an instant, a terrifying force surged through his body—like his entire being had turned into a reversed shield against the world.
He kicked the door with his foot, and it blasted inward with a violent crash of splintering wood.
Inside was a dimly lit room, illuminated by faint lights, where fourteen men were stationed—each one armed. The moment they saw him approaching with calm, measured steps, their hands instantly moved to the weapons strapped at their waists. Eyes locked onto him, and tension gripped the air like a noose.
One of the guards stepped forward, broad-shouldered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion:
"Who are you? And what do you want?"
Ryoji smiled… but it wasn't a smile—it was an open wound carved into his face, sinister, stiff, and void of life.
Then, with a voice as cold as death, he said:
"I want your boss's head."
The guard's face twisted in anger as he raised his weapon toward Ryoji. The others followed suit—fourteen barrels aimed at the chest of a single man.
The guard shouted:
"Do you have a death wish, you idiot?!"
But Ryoji didn't move. He simply raised his eyes to them and spoke, his words falling like an inescapable fate:
"Go ahead… let's see who dies."
Gunfire erupted.
Sparks flew.
The stench of gunpowder choked the air.
Smoke filled the room as dozens of bullets tore through the space, all aimed at one body.
Ryoji didn't even blink.
The first bullet struck him—or so it seemed—but it left no mark. No blood. No wound. It was as if it had sunk into a pool of water.
Then, in the very next instant, the same bullet shot back out from the entry point—reversing at a speed greater than it had been fired—heading straight for the same gun it came from.
And so it went, each bullet reversing course.
Screams.
Bodies falling.
Blood splattering across the walls.
The air grew too heavy to breathe.
Within seconds, the fourteen men were nothing but corpses scattered across the floor.
Ryoji… still stood in the same spot, unmoved.
He gave a faint smile and began walking slowly through the scattered blood.
But among the bodies, one was still alive. A guard was crawling with effort, dragging himself toward the staircase, clutching a pistol—clinging to the last bit of will left inside him.
Ryoji walked toward him, his steps calm and unhurried, until he stood just behind him.
He reached out, placed his hand gently on the guard's shoulder, then slowly turned him over to face him.
Ryoji's face was only inches away from the trembling man's.
No anger. No pity. Nothing.
A face devoid of any emotion, as if what stood before him wasn't human at all.
Ryoji pointed his finger at the center of his own forehead, then spoke in a soft, almost whispered voice:
"Go on… kill me.
Right here."
Then suddenly, the guard screamed in madness, raising his weapon with a shriek:
"DIIIIIE!!!"
He pulled the trigger—
The bullet fired at lightning speed toward Ryoji's forehead.
…But in the very next instant…
The bullet ricocheted at an impossible angle—
As if it had struck an invisible mirror,
Then reversed course mid-air…
And pierced the forehead of the man who fired it, without mercy.
He collapsed, his head bursting in an instant,
While Ryoji remained standing, finger still pointing at his forehead,
His eyes staring into the void… as if nothing had happened.
Ryoji turned his gaze away from the dead guard's body,
as if he had lost all interest in the bloodshed he had left behind.
He lifted his foot and began ascending the stairs slowly,
each step echoing across the empty staircase,
his voice carrying a cold mockery:
"Heh… nothing but trash."
He continued climbing—no heavy breathing, no glancing back.
When he reached the second floor, he stopped in front of a large wooden door,
its center marked by an old symbol of the gang.
He didn't hesitate.
He kicked the door forcefully, and it flew open with a violent crack,
its echo bouncing off the walls of the office.
Behind a luxurious desk sat a man in a formal suit, his hair neatly styled,
but his eyes widened the moment he saw Ryoji burst into the room.
He spoke in a voice filled with surprise and tension:
"W-Who are you? What do you want?"
Ryoji stepped further into the office—two steps in,
his face veiled in shadow,
then spoke with a tone laced with something caught between hatred and calm:
"Don't you remember me?"
The boss furrowed his brows, then shook his head:
"No… I don't remember you. What do you want from me?"
Ryoji smiled—mercilessly, coldly—
and replied:
"The hunter never remembers his prey…
Well then, I won't remember you after today either."
In that moment, the boss's expression shifted.
He suddenly burst into hysterical laughter,
then ducked behind his desk and pulled out an RPG launcher,
heaved it up, and aimed it directly at Ryoji.
"Go to hell!"
he screamed, pulling the trigger.
The rocket fired.
The air split open—the explosion imminent.
But when it reached Ryoji's body…
nothing happened.
The rocket passed through him as if he were made of water…
Then exited from the other side, as though it had struck nothing solid at all.
The scene flipped.
The rocket reversed—
heading straight back toward the boss.
Then… explosion.
The walls trembled.
Windows shattered.
And the boss's body was torn apart,
his remains splattered across the walls, ceiling, and once-luxurious desk.
Amid the smoke and ruin,
Ryoji stood in place—unmoved, unblinking—
his eyes fixed on what was left of a man… who no longer existed.
Then, Ryoji began searching the room,
until he found what looked like a photo album in one of the desk drawers.
He picked it up and opened it.
The moment he did, his eyes widened—sharply.
That same night, in Seoul—the capital of South Korea…
The sky was overcast with heavy clouds, and the city never slept.
But far from the noise of the streets and the neon lights,
in a quiet corner of one neighborhood,
Joseph sat alone in his room, the curtains half drawn.
A faint glow came from a lamp beside him,
and his face was lost in deep thought,
his eyes staring into the void…
thinking about the old man's words.
Words he couldn't forget.
"How did that old man know all of this?
And why hasn't any official in the world ever revealed such information?"
He rose slowly from his bed,
walked toward the window, and looked out at the city drowning in a false sleep.
Then he spoke in a low voice:
"Looks like there's a lot going on in this world… things we can't see."
But before he could finish his thoughts,
he felt something stir from within.
Shadows… no, black mist.
It began seeping from the edges of his body,
as if his very self was coming apart,
until the darkness swallowed everything—
his room, the bed, the light, even the windows…
all of it vanished.
He was surrounded only by that thick, black fog—
a fog that erased the ground, the sky, and all sense of space.
And in the heart of that darkness…
the entity appeared.
Its form was still unclear—
impossible to tell whether it was smiling or not,
but its voice, as always,
was calm… deep… and terrifying all at once.
"Hello, Joseph."
Joseph stood his ground, showing no fear,
but his voice was sharp, slightly tense:
"What do you want this time?"
He stood inside the swirling black vortex,
his eyes locked onto the mysterious entity—
a being that seemed to have been weaving something around him for a long time.
The entity spoke in its emotionless voice, slowly, as if weighing every word:
"I have something very important… that concerns you."
Joseph narrowed his eyes, staring at it with deep suspicion, then said:
"And what is this 'important' thing you're talking about?"
But the entity didn't answer.
Instead, it stepped back into the mist,
its voice now deeper, more distant:
"I won't tell you…
Not until you pass the test."
Joseph sighed, clenched his fist slightly, then said with mild annoyance:
"Huh… and what is this test you're talking about?"
The entity replied, without showing any expression:
"I want you to endure for seven days in the place I will send you to."
Joseph froze for a moment, raised an eyebrow, then said in surprise:
"Endure… seven days? Is this place really that harsh?"
The entity smiled—or at least seemed to—then answered:
"You'll soon find out what I mean."
Suddenly… the mist began to fade.
Gradually, the room around Joseph revealed itself, the light returned, and the walls appeared as they were.
Something appeared in his hands.
A card.
Inscribed on it:
"The Key to the Second Dimension."
He stared at it for seconds,
then whispered softly:
"What kind of test will this put me through, I wonder?
And is what it's talking about… even worth it?"
The card still rested between his hands, his fingers gently pressing its edges.
He stared at it for a moment, then yawned tiredly, as if the mist and the entity had been nothing more than a heavy dream.
"I need to get some rest…"
he said, heading toward his bed.
He threw himself onto the mattress, pulled the blanket over his body up to his neck.
His mind was cluttered, but his body was weary…
and soon, he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
⸻
With the sound of birds slipping through his window,
Joseph opened his eyes, feeling extremely sluggish.
He sat on the edge of the bed, stretched his arms and yawned,
then lazily rubbed his back as if he hadn't slept in ages.
He left his room, walking almost half-asleep toward the bathroom.
He opened the door without thinking.
"Aaaah!!!"
A sudden scream filled the room.
Joseph froze in place,
his eyes wide, then slammed the door shut quickly as he shouted:
"Sorry!! Sorry!! Sorry!! I didn't know you were in there!!"
He stood outside the door for a few seconds, his face nearly burning with embarrassment.
From behind the door came his sister's angry voice:
"Joseph!! Can't you knock first?!!"
Still apologizing,
after a short while, Joseph entered the bathroom to shower.
Afterward, drying his hair with a towel, he put on his usual clothes and headed to the living room.
He slumped onto the couch lazily, as if his body hadn't fully woken up yet.
But suddenly…
"Boom!"
A light tap landed on the back of his head.
"Ouch! Why did you do that?!"
Joseph exclaimed, turning around in surprise.
His sister stood behind him, arms crossed, eyes glaring at him with mock anger.
"You know exactly why I did it, so don't pretend to be stupid."
Joseph sighed and raised an eyebrow sarcastically:
"But it's your fault… you're the one who didn't lock the door."
She shot him a long look, then said:
"Aren't you going to apologize?"
After a brief pause, he replied:
"Alright… I'm sorry."
But she didn't move, standing there with a sly smile spreading across her face:
"I won't forgive you… unless you come shopping with me today."
Joseph leaned back, exhaling:
"Sorry, but I have something important… and I'll be gone for a week, maybe a bit longer."
A brief silence.
Then… she stared at him for seconds, her expression slowly changing…
until she suddenly shouted:
"Whaaaaat?!"
Her reaction was truly wild.
"You're going to leave me alone again?!"
She said it with a touched voice, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears—not quite real tears, more like crocodile tears.
Joseph smiled, his gaze softening a bit, then said:
"I promise… once I'm back, we'll go shopping together. This time, I'll carry the bag."
She sighed too, brushing her hair from her face and speaking with a tone mixing concern and threat:
"Alright… but don't you dare get hurt… or this time, I'll be the one to kill you."
Joseph chuckled softly, raising his hand as if surrendering:
"Hahaha… alright, alright."
Joseph left the house silently.
The sun was high in the sky, but his heart leaned toward sunset.
He walked through side streets, away from the city's noise…
until he reached an abandoned place, where no one was around—
just a stretch of dusty ground, surrounded by trees in the distance.
He took out the card.
He gazed at it for a moment, then let it float between his hands.
"The Key to the Second Dimension."
The card began to glow with a faint light,
then slowly rose into the air before tearing apart as if made of smoke…
And in the next moment, a gate formed before him,
made of swirling black mist, as if opening to a place beyond the limits of this world.
He didn't hesitate.
Joseph stepped forward steadily,
and as he passed through the gate, it closed quietly behind him, as if it had never been there at all.
He opened his eyes… and found himself standing before a long coastline,
wet earth beneath his feet, and the sea stretching endlessly ahead.
The sky was gray, the wind cold…
there was something unsettling on the horizon.
But he didn't have much time to reflect.
Suddenly…
Everything changed.
The sky… the coast… the sea…
all began to melt as if painted in watercolors, fading gradually into a black mist.
Within seconds, everything around him was engulfed by that endless thick darkness—
the same one that had visited him before,
but this time… deeper, heavier… and more isolating.
From the heart of the darkness… the entity appeared again.
Its eyes glowed faintly,
and its face remained as mysterious as always.
"Welcome back… Joseph."
Joseph stood amid the fog,
his eyes locked onto the entity that had returned to face him once more.
But this time, he didn't wait for greetings or cryptic philosophy.
He said directly, in a dry voice:
"Alright… what now?"
The entity answered in its usual calm tone, void of emotion or hesitation:
"You will find a black ship before you…
Board it.
It will take you to where your test awaits."
Joseph raised an eyebrow slightly and said,
"But there's no shi—"
He didn't finish his sentence.
In an instant, the entity vanished.
The misty world around him faded away as suddenly as a dream ending,
and everything was swallowed by a moment of silence.
Then…
He was back where he had been, and right in front of him… a black ship.
It floated quietly on the surface of a still sea,
but it was no ordinary ship.
Black mist rose from its edges as if it were made of it,
its walls undefined, its shape shifting as if it were alive.
Joseph stepped forward slowly and stood before it, staring in astonishment:
"Mist is rising from it… as if it's made from the mist itself."
He placed his hand on its surface and felt a slight tremor…
as if it were a living creature… breathing.
He climbed aboard.
The moment his foot touched the deck, the small ship began moving on its own—
slowly at first, then gradually accelerating.
Gentle waves broke behind it,
then it sliced through the sea at an uncanny speed unlike any other vessel.
Joseph gripped the edge of the ship, watching the fading sea around him,
feeling as if time itself was losing meaning…
that reality was beginning to crumble bit by bit.
The journey of the test… had begun.