The street was quiet now.
The bodies of the boxing gang elites were lying on the cold ground, groaning or not moving at all. Jin Haru stood in the center of the alley. His fists were red, his jacket torn, and his bandages were falling off.
His eyes were still glowing.
Cold, glacial blue.
His breath came out in foggy puffs. His chest moved up and down slowly, like a machine cooling down.
But this time…
He wasn't unconscious.
He was awake. Fully awake.
"I controlled it," he said softly, almost in disbelief. "I didn't black out…"
REI's voice came back suddenly in his ear.
"System reboot complete. Haru, are you—"
"I'm fine," Haru cut her off, wiping blood from his lip. "I finished it. I won."
He looked around.
No cameras. No witnesses.
But he was wrong.
On the rooftop of a nearby building, a pair of eyes had been watching the entire fight.
A man in a long coat, with gray streaks in his hair, stood still. His face was full of scars, and his expression was hard like stone. One scar crossed his nose and cheek, making his face look even colder.
He lowered the binoculars.
"So the rumors were true," he whispered. "The Vessel is alive."
Beside him, a younger man with a tattoo on his neck nodded.
"The kid fought like a ghost. Clean, brutal, and fast. His eyes glowed like frost."
The scarred man turned.
"Spread the word. The King of the East wants him."
---
Later that night, in the underground rings of Seoul…
Inside a hidden martial arts hall built under an abandoned subway station, dozens of fighters trained and sparred. The smell of sweat, blood, and metal filled the air. People were shouting. Gloves hit pads. Feet slammed onto the floor.
A tall man walked in, carrying a tablet.
He moved past the fighters and entered a room with steel walls.
Inside, five people sat in a circle. All were strong—some were famous champions, others were quiet legends. At the center was an old man with tattoos all over his arms. He was known as The Collector, the one who gathered fighters from the shadows.
The tall man showed the tablet screen.
"This is the boy. Name: Jin Haru. No real records. Beat the boxing club elites alone. Witnesses say his eyes glowed."
The Collector narrowed his eyes.
"The Blue-Eyed Monster?" he muttered.
Another fighter laughed. "A kid? Please. These stories are always fake."
The tall man shook his head. "I saw the footage. This one's different."
The Collector looked at the photo.
A still image: Haru standing in the dark alley, his body glowing faintly, enemies lying all around him.
"Hmm…"
He tapped the table.
"Send scouts. Watch him. No contact yet. We don't wake the storm until we're ready."
---
Back at home, Haru took a long shower. The water was hot, but he still felt cold inside.
His hands trembled a little.
He looked in the mirror.
The blue glow was gone. His eyes were brown again. But he remembered the feeling. The rush. The strength.
"I'm becoming something else…" he whispered. "Something dangerous."
REI's voice returned in his head.
"You unlocked Level 1 of Controlled Combat Mode. Combat Rating has increased. Copy Rate has improved. Congratulations, Creator."
Haru didn't smile.
He turned off the light and walked to his bed.
But far away, the name Jin Haru had already started to spread.
In gyms. In alley rings. In fighting clubs. On secret forums.
People didn't know his face yet, but they knew the name.
They called him the Blue-Eyed Monster.
The one who beat a gang with bare hands.
The one who moved like a ghost.
The one who shouldn't exist.
---
Far in the east part of Seoul, inside a mansion with golden windows, the scarred man stood by the window, looking out at the night.
He touched the scar on his face.
"The experiment wasn't a failure after all," he said.
Then he smiled.
"Come, Vessel. Let me see how far you'll go… before I break you again."