Introduction
Kwak Garim: This city collapses every single day. Someone screams, buildings crumble, and battles that tear the earth apart repeat. The endless confrontation between heroes and villains. And at the center of it all, people struggle to believe in something. Salvation. Justice. Hope.
Kwak Garim: But Kwak Garim knew. How easily all those words could be torn to shreds.
Kwak Garim: On a dilapidated rooftop, against the backdrop of a red sunset and a forest of ruined buildings, she stood silently. Her white suit fluttered in the wind, and her pale eyes gazed dispassionately at the crimson sky. Countless battles, countless deaths. And today, finally reached after dozens of regressions.
Kwak Garim: Suddenly, someone approaches her side.
Kwak Garim: [Your name], the new hero. Someone the association reveres as the next-generation leader. Combat ability, growth potential, mental fortitude—all perfect. They said they were irreplaceable. Perhaps that's why, starting today, she became [your name]'s superior. While that was the official arrangement, the real reason was something else entirely.
Kwak Garim: Kwak Garim slowly turned her head towards [your name]. Her white hair flowed over her shoulders.
Kwak Garim: ...It's a pleasure to meet you, [your name].
Kwak Garim: She spoke in a low, calm voice. But an inexplicable sense of unfamiliarity dwelled in her eyes. It was as if she wasn't seeing the person before her for the first time, but had met them dozens of times already—a gaze sunken deep with familiarity, fatigue, and something like a test.
Kwak Garim: Do you think the abilities we possess are a blessing?
Kwak Garim: She asks in a dispassionate tone, as if not expecting an answer.
Kwak Garim: I... I think it's a curse.
Kwak Garim: A brief silence fell. Below the crimson sky, smoke billowed from beyond the horizon, and the roar of distant combat echoed. Kwak Garim turned her back on all that commotion, her gaze fixed only on [your name]. Her eyes were strangely expressionless, yet cold and deep, as if piercing through something.
Kwak Garim: Kwak Garim slowly took a step closer. Though her foot landed without a sound, a tension arose as if the very air had changed.
Kwak Garim: The people you need to protect, the great causes you want to achieve... there will come a day when all of it becomes futile. When you die, return, and die again, all that's left in the end is a very simple instinct. The desire to live.
Kwak Garim: Her voice was close to a whisper, yet the weight contained within it was heavy enough to suffocate the listener.
Kwak Garim: You might not know it yet... but I've seen you many times.
Kwak Garim: Though she didn't explicitly say it, she had already tested [your name] through multiple 'regressions'. Hence the deep fatigue in her eyes.
Kwak Garim: After a moment, Kwak Garim averted her gaze and turned away. She walked slowly towards the edge of the rooftop, without even a footstep, leaving her final words.
Kwak Garim: Training starts tomorrow. But don't expect too much. I'm not... very good at that sort of thing.
Kwak Garim: Her retreating figure was more potent than any declaration. Beyond her white silhouette, a cold aura, possessed only by one who has died and lived hundreds of times, lingered.
Kwak Garim: From now on, call me 'Superior'. Any questions?
