I slid my sword back into its sheath, the faint click lost beneath the rumble of claws pounding broken concrete. The beast — Fenrir, the tab called it now — barreled toward us, eyes like embers sunk in bristling fur.
All around, shouts cut through the smoke. Farther down the district's spines of cracked road and half-collapsed shops, hunters scrambled to pull civilians away, some shouting orders, some steadying their weapons, ready to throw themselves into this mess if we failed.
Us.
Really? I almost laughed, did I just include myself?.
I flicked my eyes back to the tab as it flickered new words into shape:
[With a determined will, Jaemin was the first to step up, dashing straight at the beast. His blade carved arcs of steel, but this time the the beast twisted away, snapping its jaws with a sound like steel grinding stone. Undeterred, Jaemin pressed on, slashing again and again, each strike pushing the monster back by sheer ferocity. Behind him, Eunseok spread his hands — weaving a new spell, silver runes burning in the air.]
I looked up. Reality matched the script. Jaemin — radiant with reckless courage — was already a blur of steel and sparks, while Eunseok's voice threaded low incantations behind him.
And me?
I stood where I was, watching my own story unfold, while a wolf the size of a bus clawed its way through my line of sight.
The system's tab flickered again, words bleeding onto its surface faster than I could blink:
["I can't hold it long! It's too strong... man, I thought I'd weakened it already!" Jaemin said, parrying the claws and fangs of the beast.]
[Eunseok cast a spell — a towering golden sword, hovering above him, a gift mastered since the war goddess Freyja laid her crest upon him.]
I glanced up from the script to the real scene unfolding in front of me. Right on cue, Jaemin's shout cut through the smoke:
"I can't hold it long! It's too strong! Man, I thought I weakened it already!"
Exactly as written. He braced his blade against Fenrir's claws, sparks hissing out with every clash.
But Eunseok — he wasn't matching the script. No shimmering sword in the air. No echo of Freyja's power crashing down. He just stood there, fists clenched at his sides, funneling raw buffs and barriers toward Jaemin instead of unleashing the killing blow.
He caught my eye through the haze — and I swear, if desperation could shout, it was burning in his stare. He wanted me to move.
But that... wasn't in the plot.
My teeth ground together so hard it rattled my skull. Without thinking, I snapped open the inner monologue tab — and Eunseok's mind practically screamed into mine:
[What the hell is he doing?! Why is he just standing there?!]
The words pounded against my thoughts like fists on a door.
[Damn it. I thought there was something to him. Maybe he's just a coward.]
That last word carved its way under my ribs.
My fingers curled tight around the hilt. Enough of this.
In one breath, I drew my blade again — the steel catching the gleam of the blood mist in my eyes. I shot past Eunseok, a red blur slicing through the debris-choked street.
Under my breath, sharp and low, I spat the command:
"Open sub skill slot."
A fresh screen snapped to life in front of my eyes, icons gleaming like taunting little promises:
[Sub skill slot activated]
[Life Steal]
[Twin Parry]
[Bone Carver]
A faint scarlet sheen coiled around my blade just before it slammed against the beast's jagged claws. The impact rattled through my arms — a thunderous clash that forced the beast to stumble back, claws skidding furrows in the dirt.
Twin Parry. Perfect reversal.
I didn't waste the opening. A swift flourish — a pivot — and I drove in again. My blade carved deep, again and again, splitting hide and muscle. Each slash brought another burst of blood, feeding the blade's latent hunger.
The wolf, now limping badly, tried to lunge away with a furious roar — but a hand clamped on my shoulder from behind. Jaemin. He used me as a launch point, vaulting past with a burst of speed, blade flashing in the blood-dimmed light.
I slipped my fingers along the flat of my sword, murmuring the command under my breath —
Bone Carver.
Steel gleamed, humming for marrow and sinew.
Jaemin hammered the beast with relentless strikes, dancing around its snapping fangs and thrashing claws. The beast shrieked, blinded by its own rage and pain.
Then, at last — a golden brilliance seared the air. A massive spectral sword crashed down from above, cleaving clean through the monster's front leg with a wet crack. Blood gushed as the severed limb thudded uselessly behind it.
I snapped a glance back. Eunseok stood doubled over, gasping, sweat pouring down his brow. So — he finally used it. And it nearly cost him all his mana.
"Finish it already!! A cursed beast can heal its wounds back!!" Eunseok roared, voice raw.
I didn't need telling twice. Jaemin met my eyes — the same cold resolve glinting there — and we nodded once. No more hesitations.
This monster might once have been a legend... but now it was just another corrupted myth, a rotting relic clinging to a world that didn't want it anymore.
We charged together.
I slid my fingers along the flat edge one last time, whispering to the blade to remember its purpose — and then I drove the sword straight into the beast's broad chest. Beside me, Jaemin's blade arced for the neck, a perfect line meant to end it cleanly.
Steel met flesh. Bone split. The world howled.
It was the beast's last howl — raw and guttural — before its head hit the ground with a sickening thud. Silence devoured the echo.
I stood there, sword stabbed into what used to be a cobblestone street, chest heaving as the blood mist drifted off the blade.
Then, a notification flickered to life right in front of my eyes, bright against the smoke-filled air.
[You have revised and renewed a fate in the main plot]
[You have leveled up!]
Before I could react, the Plot Review tab unfolded, lines of text forming themselves.
[Eunseok looked back from where he'd been standing, expecting someone to step in, and before he could react, a red blur dashed past him.]
Beneath that, a new prompt blinked at me, patient and unsettling at the same time.
It revised the plot where Eunseok look at me moments ago.
[What name do you want to give to the new character?]
I stared at it. Read it again. Then again, slower.
A short laugh slipped out of me, breathless, almost disbelieving.
I made a new character.
My hand hovered near my sword's hilt, but for once, the blade felt weightless. A sharp thrill buzzed in my veins.
"Hey... everything alright?" Jaemin's voice pulled me back, rough with fatigue but steady enough to remind me we were still standing in a battlefield — monster blood steaming around our boots.
[The Maim Character has initiated conversation with you.]
The system notified just like how it did when i first met Eunseok.
"Mm," I hummed, half an answer, while I tugged my sword free from the broken stones and wiped the edge clean before sheathing it.
My eyes flicked back to the hovering tab — still waiting for me to decide what to call the new piece of myself it claimed I'd made.
A sigh escaped my mouth. No need to overthink it. It's still me, just dressed in a name that i invented.
Han Seon Lee.
The moment I thought it, the system pulsed softly in front of me.
[Han Seon Lee has been added!]
Jaemin watched me, curiosity hidden under exhaustion. I just exhaled, feeling the weight of a new thread tying itself into this story I kept rewriting — whether I wanted to or not.
"What a show! Hahaha!" Eunseok barked out a laugh as he jogged up to us, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "The Hauler Squad are on their way — they'll haul off the body soon enough."
Bonk!
My knuckles landed square on top of his skull. He yelped, clutching his head like a kid caught stealing candy.
"OW! What the hell was that for?!" he snapped, eyes wide.
"You idiot! Why didn't you use that spell from the start?!" My voice cracked sharp through the settling dust. "You could've ended that damn wolf in seconds!"
Instead of apologizing, this clown just scratched the back of his head and gave me that dumb sheepish grin, like I'd scolded him for dropping a spoon.
"Heh... I was saving mana, okay? That spell eats it up fast. So I was waiting to see if you would jump in. Once you did, I started casting — takes a sec to charge up. But when I fired it off, my aim slipped. Meant for the chest, hit the leg. Honest mistake!"
He shrugged like it was no big deal — meanwhile Jaemin was behind him, fighting off a grin.
I exhaled through my nose, glaring at him. "Next time, just blow up the damn monster and save us the headache."
"Anyway…" Eunseok's voice dropped after a chuckle, smoothing out the rough edges of his laughter. His eyes, still bright with leftover adrenaline, pinned me down like needles pressing into skin. He glanced once at my sheathed sword — then back to my face, sharper now.
"How were you able to do that?"
Finally. He'd asked the million-gold question.
"You told us you're just a crestless hunter…" he went on, a slow, careful tension threading through each word. "But no crestless hunter I know can carve through a mythical beast's hide like that. Not even with a legendary blade."
A breeze carried dust past my boots. Jaemin shifted his weight behind him, eyes flicking between us — sensing the shift in the air.
"So tell me," Eunseok pressed, his tone deceptively calm but with suspicion burning beneath, "how were you able to pull that off? What are you really hiding?"
Of course. I can't really escape his questions.
So I asked back.
"Why wouldn't you believe me when I say a deity can go rogue?" I asked, one brow raised as I stared at him, gauging every twitch in his reaction.
Eunseok narrowed his eyes slightly. Jaemin stood off to the side, silent, confused—he hadn't been there when Cheon died. This conversation was flying over his head, so he wisely chose not to interrupt.
"Because there is a contract in the divine—"
I cut him off before he could finish.
"The Divine Link can be broken by sheer force of a deity's will. Sure, there are consequences—cosmic ones, even—but by the time they happen, the damage's already done."
My tone was firm. Confident. Calculated. I needed him to think the system had a loophole. That the Divine Link wasn't as airtight as the world believed it to be.
He went quiet, gears turning in his head.
That was the point. I wasn't explaining the truth. Just handing him a plausible-enough lie that smelled like conspiracy but felt like something he couldn't quite disprove.
The truth?
The Divine Link seal was unbreakable. But the real reason Hwang Cheon's sponsor descended and wrecked havoc was... lazy storytelling. A rushed arc. A shallow plot twist. That strange man—whoever the hell he was—dumped the weight of this world onto me with a half-finished script and plot holes the size of gates.
If I was just a reader, I'd call it garbage writing.
But a question clung to the edge of my mind as I watched Eunseok wrestle with my lie.
Why are there... plot holes in this story?
And then another question clawed its way up:
Did the author do this on purpose?
I felt something cold coil in my gut.
This whole world—its broken logic, its sloppy sponsors, its rigged fates—was I really fixing someone else's mistakes?
Or was I trapped in a script that wanted to be rewritten?
And then, beneath it all, a single question bled out, soft but echoing through my bones:
Why?
All of a sudden, Eunseok's voice sliced clean through the haze in my head.
"...Fine. Let's say I believe you."
His tone was steady, but there was steel in the way he held my gaze.
"But—"
He stepped forward, boots grinding over the blood-slick cobblestones, stopping just close enough that I could see the doubt burning behind his eyes.
"How did you do that?" He repeated it—same question, but each word now carried the bite of a blade.
"You call yourself crestless... yet that red mark above your head is gone. Let me say it again—"
He thrust a finger past my shoulder, pointing to the mangled corpse of the beast behind us.
"No so-called crestless hunter can drive even a legendary blade through a mythical beast like that."
He exhaled, breath ragged but voice low and heavy with warning.
"I heard a rumor. Some idiot Unblessed hunter got trapped in Hell's Gate under the Olympian Pantheon...he died there, they said, like a stray dog in the dark."
He leaned closer, eyes narrowed.
"That was you, wasn't it? Don't bother lying. Everyone knows you're the only lunatic who'd spit in a diety's face."
Silence pooled between us—thick, suffocating.
I couldn't answer him honestly. Not now. Not here.
I needed a lie—something to wash the dirt off my name and bury the corpse I left behind in that dungeon.
So I gave him one.
"Yeah... that was me. I died there."
His eyes widened. Even Jaemin's jaw twitched as the truth—or what passed for it—hung in the cold air.
"The person standing in front of you right now... is another me."
I let that sink in, watched their faces twist through confusion and disbelief.
"If you really want the truth—then hear this."
I lifted my chin, voice calm but my heart pounding in my ribs like a war drum.
"I'm Park Seo-Jun. A regressor... dragged back from the end of the apocalypse."
"I came back after I died—at the near end of the apocalypse. To fix the mistakes I made."
My voice came out colder than I intended. But a piece of it rang true. I could change what lay ahead. I did know how the future would crumble if left to rot.
So spinning this lie—calling myself a regressor—was the cleanest veil I could throw over the truth.
The truth was, I wasn't some wretch dragged back by fate — But its beholder.