"Before you leave, look at yourself in the mirror."
The young man's voice was calm, yet it carried a weight that pressed down on Arya.
"You are weak. Powerless. If you were given another chance, what would happen? Nothing. You would die again. You cannot survive."
His tone sharpened.
"I could take control of your body right now. I don't need to ask. But I won't—not yet."
His presence grew heavier, suffocating.
"Before you gain power, you will understand what real pain is. People never truly comprehend suffering until they have been broken by it. When you awaken, you will feel a pain beyond anything you could ever imagine."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"If you want power, then prove you are worthy of it. Begging won't save you. If power is handed to you without struggle, you will never understand its worth."
Arya listened carefully, his mind racing. Then, he asked, "What is your goal?"
The young man's reply was cold, unwavering—
"To kill every assassin in this world."
Arya's breath caught in his throat. His face paled as he processed those words.
"Why?! Everything you said—was it all just to justify killing everyone?" Arya's voice was unsteady, disbelief clouding his thoughts. "I know the assassin world is brutal, but not all of them are evil! Some are different—I met one before, Number 28.He helped me even without knowing who I was. Why do you hate assassins so much?"
He clenched his fists, his body tense. "Before, I thought you wanted to change the world. But now… you sound no different from a monster."
The young man's gaze darkened. A small, knowing smile crossed his lips.
"Then tell me, Arya—when you were dying, did that belief save you?"
Arya remained silent. He had no answer.
The young man smirked. "I knew you'd have nothing to say. When I look at you, I remember my younger self… Back when I was your age, I also dreamed of becoming a great assassin, of changing the world. But when I tried, I realized how wrong I was. My own friends, the people I trusted, betrayed me—because I wasn't powerful enough. In this world, if you want peace, you have to sacrifice something. Nothing changes unless you make it change."
Arya clenched his fists. "And you think killing all assassins will bring peace? If no one is left, then what's the point?"
The young man's eyes darkened. "You're still thinking inside the box—that's not your fault. The system made you this way. But tell me… what about the ones without power? The ones who suffer because they can't fight back? The ones assassins step on like insects? Right now, you don't understand. But you will."
He turned away, his voice calm but firm. "For now, it's time for you to return. I know one day, you'll come seeking my help. And when that day comes, when you've suffered enough, you'll finally understand. Remember this—when you wake up, you won't know what happened… not until you step out of that portal and return to your world."
Before Arya could react, his body began to fade. He tried to move, to reach out—but before he could, everything disappeared.
As 89 walked forward, everything seemed normal—too normal. No monsters, no sounds, just eerie silence.
Then, without warning, the entire environment shifted. The walls trembled, the floor cracked like an earthquake had struck. He struggled to stay on his feet as paintings crashed down, the frames shattering, and dust filled the air. Everything around him seemed to collapse… and then—
Silence.
The tremors stopped, the room returned to normal. 89 exhaled in relief. "Was that an earthquake…?" he muttered.
Before he could react, a powerful wave of energy swept past him. It didn't hit him directly, yet he could feel it—a presence, an aura unlike anything he had ever encountered.
And then it struck.
The force slammed into him, hurling him backward. He tried to resist, planting his feet firmly, but it was impossible. The lights flickered wildly, plunging the room into bursts of darkness and blinding flashes. The pressure was unbearable.
89's body was flung across the room, crashing hard against the wall before he collapsed onto the ground. Blood dripped from his mouth. What… what is this power?
Elsewhere, 99 experienced the same overwhelming force. He gritted his teeth, struggling to stay on his feet. A yellow aura flickered around him as he summoned his power. Gripping his sword tightly, he drove it into the ground, the blade sinking halfway into the floor.
But it wasn't enough.
The wave intensified, lifting him off the ground. He fought to hold on, but the sheer force pried his grip loose. His sword slipped from his hands.
And then—he was thrown backward, crashing into the wall before slamming onto the ground. He coughed, pain spreading through his body. What kind of power… is this?
They had no idea someone was coming back to life.
In the room where Arya had died, his body began to twitch. Slowly, his form melted into shadows, reshaping itself into a human figure. The darkness solidified, taking the shape of Arya, his black mask settling onto his face.
Then—an overwhelming black aura erupted from his body.
His eyes snapped open, glowing a deep, menacing red. He stood up, a twisted smile forming on his lips. As his aura spread, the entire area trembled. One by one, shadow creatures materialized around him—shadow hounds, shadow orcs, shadow snipers, and countless other nightmarish beings. They surrounded him, their monstrous forms kneeling in submission.
Arya—or rather, the being controlling him—grinned wider. He raised a hand, absorbing the power of the entire shadow army into himself. Dark energy coursed through his veins, making him stronger than ever before.
But something was wrong.
"His body trembled as his overwhelming power surged uncontrollably, spilling out of him. He clenched his fists, realization hitting him. 'This body… it's too weak to contain my power.' But then, a smirk formed on his lips. 'For now, it doesn't matter.' His eyes burned with anticipation. 'The real fun is just beginning.' And with that, he vanished from the room."
On the other side, 99 moved forward and reached a large door. Frustrated and angry, he kicked it open, breaking it apart. As he stepped inside, he saw an old, empty throne covered in dust and spiderwebs.
Annoyed, he slashed the webs away with his sword and walked closer. His expression twisted in anger.
"What the hell is this? After everything, I enter this room, and there's nothing? That damn monster is just hiding somewhere!"
His patience snapped. "I'm really mad now. If I find them, I'll kill every last one of them—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a sound came from behind him. His body tensed. He turned sharply toward the door.
A figure stood there, shrouded in darkness. It was too far to see clearly, but something about their presence made 99 uneasy.
"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.
The figure said nothing and took a step forward.
99's frustration grew. "I won't ask again. Speak, or I'll kill you!"
The figure kept walking.
And then—99's eyes widened in shock.
As the dim light flickered across the stranger's face, he finally saw them clearly.
It was Arya.