With her neck gripped, she was lifted into the air.

Her exposed abdomen.

Her rolled-up shirt.

Her chest heaving with rapid breaths.

"Kugh, let go of me...!"

Her legs instinctively kicked at the air in resistance, but it was futile.

Haruki's body was nothing more than a piece of paper drifting weightlessly. Resentment surged up.

The arrogant demeanor of that fourth-generation chaebol had always been irritating. Why had she acted so recklessly when she couldn't do anything?

"If you're going to die, at least do it alone. Ngh..."

Her tongue stiffened. The final word that had been on the tip of her tongue vanished.

The hunter industry was like this.

Death came suddenly, leaving no room for final words.

The air was cut off.

She gasped with her mouth open, but her lungs refused to draw in air.

The world blurred. Her vision sank into flickering darkness.

'Even I can't see it with my own eyes...'

[Spiritual Vision]. Eyes that could see spirits. It had always given her an advantage in dealing with spirits. But this time was different.

There was a spirit even she couldn't see. This was the difference in power.

If she couldn't see it, she couldn't fight back. If it intended to kill her, she could only die helplessly. A wretched unfairness.

It was at the moment she foresaw her end–

Bang!

A thunderous explosion rang out from somewhere, forcing her tightly shut eyes open. It was so loud that her ears buzzed.

'A gunshot?'

It was unfamiliar.

No one in this industry used firearms. The job market for gunmen had long since frozen over. She had fallen out of step with the world's flow.

It was enough to extinguish any lingering expectations.

As her expression fell into despair, an ethereal phenomenon unfolded before her eyes.

The bullet that had pierced through the air exploded.

A flash? Flames? No.

Pure white. Not light, but the absence of color. A whiteness that denied warmth.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Crowd Control Technique (CC).
Status Effect: Freezing.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

A frigid cold elegantly spread. The spirit revealed its grotesque form, encrusted with ice crystals. At that moment, the pressure on her neck vanished.

She performed a breakfall to mitigate the impact. Though her hurried movements made her posture sloppy, there was something more urgent than the pain that racked her body.

Air rushed deep into her lungs.

Her throat welcomed oxygen with a violent convulsion, and her trembling vocal cords let out a groan.

"Ugh, kuh. Pwahh."

A moment of hyperventilation. Oxygen flooded her cells.

She had survived.

Yet even that sensation was twisted by a shudder that ran through her body.

Rather than relief, shock was greater.

"This is impossible."

The reality before her eyes exceeded the bounds of common sense.

Was this the feeling of witnessing the forbidden?

She had seen magic that did not exist in the mortal realm.

Even the first time she had seen a spirit, it hadn't been this shocking.

'Freezing? Ice? Has such magic ever existed?'

Haruki recalled the fundamental principles of magic.

The [System] awakens humans.

It grants a status window and instills the sense to manipulate mana.

Thus, All magic manifests through unique mana.

But ice?

It was not an attribute, but a phenomenon.

'Unique mana to control ice doesn't exist. The academic world has never recognized ice as an independent attribute.'

To manipulate fire required the technique to control the molecular heat energy.

Thus, it was deemed impossible.

The rules of the macroscopic and microscopic worlds were not the same.

A particle's position and momentum could never be precisely observed simultaneously.

The world followed clear causality, but the fundamental particles that formed it only existed probabilistically.

Temperature was a measure of a particle's average kinetic energy.

To lower the temperature, one had to slow the particles.

But how could one manipulate what could not be seen?

No human could perceive probability itself.

"......"

Haruki's mouth hung open as she processed the situation. Just before saliva could drop, rational thought intervened.

"It must be a skill..."

The [System] corrected all impossibilities.

That was the only plausible explanation.

For someone to use freezing magic through sheer skill alone was inconceivable.

Then…

Step. Step.

Footsteps rang out, and her gaze naturally followed.

Dissonance… that was the first thing she recognized.

The silhouette was unusual. The curves, unfitting for such a small body, felt strangely unnatural.

"Are you alright?"

Though her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, her lips were clearly visible.

A stark contrast against her white skin.

Still young. But undoubtedly a beauty with the potential to topple nations.

One day, she would become a woman of national significance.

Haruki shook her head. She had nearly died just moments ago—what was she even thinking?

Shaking off her nonsense, a name surfaced in her mind.

It had been a hot topic lately, so it was impossible not to know.

"Too many distinctive features. A black pair of glasses and an outstanding figure... The top student?"

The Blinking Sword had mentioned it. That future of the academy lay among the freshmen.

Was that truly the case?

Such an evaluation naturally invited doubt.

Now that she was seeing it in person, the rumors failed to fully capture the reality.

'But she's too young... The world is vast, and geniuses are plenty.'

She was at an age where thinking about the future was inevitable.

Just what would she become?

The next moment, the girl picked up a book and murmured.

"I'll be taking this book."

A blind person and a book. Not exactly a fitting combination. It was an unpredictable eccentricity.

Haruki trembled, her entire body wracked with chills. The turmoil inside them was laid bare.

"Gah! You too? What is a blind person going to do with that book?"

"Read it."

"Nonsense! Judging by your skills, you must be sensory-based, but the more pages you turn, the stronger the power of the Book of the Dead will grow, and even the status effect you've inflicted will be lifted. In the end, before you finish reading, you'll be coughing up blood and collapsing in misery!"

"It'll be different if I do it."

Ernian tilted her head indifferently, expression devoid of concern. The hidden sniper had finally revealed themselves.

It was a judgment made after confirming there were no remaining threats.

'She talks too much. I already have a plan.'

Adding more words wouldn't change anything. Any effort to persuade others felt utterly meaningless. After all, Haruki would never understand the world she saw.

No matter what.

Even if she were a shrine maiden blessed with Spirit Sight.

"Stop!"

A woman, her lower body stained yellow, hastily reached out.

But it was too late.

Beneath the sunglasses, the concealed eyes opened.

No one knew the criteria by which the [System] chose Awakened Ones.

It was as unfathomable as divine will, as light as coincidence, and as relentless as inevitability.

As a result, even ordinary people, if lucky, could awaken and seize power. In such a world, conscience was a luxury for those wielding strength.

With so few to restrain them, how many would resist the temptation to act on her whims and grow arrogant?

Being honest about one's power was intrinsic to hunters.

To think of one's might as a privilege… that was how far it had come. It explained why hunters, at their core, often had such broken personalities.

'No wonder they call them Hunter Dragons.'

Among them, those who crossed the line were called villains.

So too with this book. A primal sense of disgust surged forth.

A repugnant sensation clawed at her stomach. The mere fact that someone had read it meant the world had rotted a little further.

However… That did not apply to her.

Her eyes had opened and everything was clear.

With [Clairvoyance], she didn't even need to turn the pages.

A few blinks, and the words flooded her mind.

Not just a page, a paragraph, or a sentence.

The entire book inscribed itself at once, as though it were a single structure.

It didn't even feel like reading.

It felt like recalling something already known.

Thousands, tens of thousands of words arranged themselves in her brain.

{Help me.}

{I'm starving. I'm thirsty.}

{Ah... why did I make this choice...?}

A desperation as sharp as a blade hid between the words.

Though the ink on the pages had long since faded, the fear embedded between the lines had never disappeared.

'She said the power grows stronger the more pages are turned?'

Life had seeped into the ink.

Moments of living had been bound within the texture of paper, transforming vitality into words and sentences.

The thicker the book.

The more lives it had absorbed.

Thus, the spirit born from this book was none other than ‘Death.’

A sense of familiarity.

It was not her first time witnessing Death take form.

'Even the Lich I encountered in the Daily Dungeon wielded the concept of Death. It reanimated corpses, making rotting bones march."

Such was the nature of Sagas.

Unlike martial arts or magic, insight meant nothing here.

A Saga was the entirety of a life built up by an individual.

No one else could walk that path for them. No one else could escape it in her stead.

Even if one stared into it with wide-open eyes, how could that compare to the mud clinging to the original bearer’s ankles?

'Of course, if not for the [Source of All Evil], this Saga would have never manifested in corruption.'

How had this ended up in the academy?

Who brought it here, and for what purpose?

Questions remained unanswered, but the event had already unfolded.

'I have a way to clean this up.'

Even if it had been tainted, its essence had not changed.

There was only one thing to do with spirits.

Contract.

Just as she was about to proceed, a desperate cry diverted her attention.

"Stop! You did well not to open the book. But don’t tell me you’re actually trying to make a contract?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"You're not even a Spirit Studies major! How do you plan to make a contract? Contracts are mutual agreements based on spiritual resonance. A spirit will never submit if the ranks don’t match. You can't even exchange essence! So how do you expect to make a contract?"

"Just... well?"

"Krooooh! Are you insane too?! How much do you people need to get hurt before you learn humility? That’s a royal-class spirit! Even I can't handle it! If a beautiful girl like you were to get hurt, that would be a universal tragedy!"

Though she raged and stomped in frustration, the concern in her voice was real.

Her sincerity was evident; this was not mere posturing.

'...Am I really that cute?'

What was beauty?

Was it the curvature of a form, the harmony of light, or the duration of gazes lingering upon it?

She had no standard for beauty.

She couldn’t understand others' attachment to them.

'But still, it’s the advice of a specialist. I should take it into account. By “rank,” does she mean Title?'

There had to be a reason behind her worry.

A hunter’s rank was reflected in her Title.

The [System] assigned a Title when one achieved a great feat or demonstrated exceptional prowess.

It was a hunter’s identity and a mark of immense honor.

The more grandiose, the greater the proof of her greatness.

Titles like "Flame of Majesty," "Blinking Sword," and "Martial God" were such examples.

If that was the case, there was no reason for concern.

Ernian Ludwig… Her Title was "Death God."