“What now.”

The words came out the instant I opened my eyes.

I narrowed at the sight before me and scanned around.

A world blotted white.

Floor and ceiling painted the same blank, a place where nothing meant anything.

“Hm.”

I knew at a glance.

“A nightmare. Rot.”

A nightmare. Lately I’d been so exhausted I’d black out the moment I lay down, so I’d been spared them.

It had been a long time.

I carefully raised myself. Turns out I’d been sitting. I looked around from that position—no different than a moment ago.

All white, all the way down. No telling one thing from another.

I moved bit by bit, tested this and that, and came to a conclusion.

“Not sleep paralysis. Just a lucid dream?”

Didn’t feel like paralysis caused by a ghost.

Despite how out-of-the-blue this was, my face stayed as calm as any day.

I’d had my fill of this in my past life.

This level doesn’t rattle me.

It only made me snort. And I knew exactly what to do at times like this.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

If I keep them closed a moment and open them, I’ll wake up and—

“...Should be awake?”

I opened them again. Same scene.

“Great.”

I scratched my cheek. Ah, that’s not good.

“This just got tricky.”

That’s a problem. That makes it more than a simple nightmare.

‘Feels like spirit-qi mixed in.’

When a soul meddles and affects a human dream.

If it impacts the body, that’s paralysis; if it intrudes to deliver a will, that’s a spirit-dream.

I rubbed my jaw and swept the white again.

“Definitely not paralysis... so a spirit-dream.”

A dream this vivid should be suspect—and even recognizing it, I can’t snap awake? That made it certain.

Strange.

I’d been tracking the positions of the spirits around me, and if anything looked off, I avoided involvement with care.

As a result, none of the ghosts near me were entangled with me.

“Hmmm.”

Then what?

I thought a moment, nodded. Found the answer.

I turned immediately and spoke.

“What is it.”

Sure enough, someone was standing behind me. Obviously, the one who dragged me into a place like this.

If it’s spirit-qi, that means a ghost—and there was only one ghost at my side.

“...Old man.”

“Oh.”

Oh, my ass. Yoo Cheongil widened his eyes and greeted me like sunshine.

I had to twist my mouth at the ridiculous act.

Seeing that, he wore, for some reason, a disappointed face.

“I thought you’d be at least a little flustered. No fun if you’re fine.”

“My life’s too grotesque for this to surprise me.”

After all the freakish things I’ve gone through, this doesn’t even register.

“So... what is this supposed to be?”

I could tell it was a space made with spirit-qi, but how had the old man pulled it off?

At my question, Yoo Cheongil stroked his beard and said,

“I don’t know. Seemed like it might work, so I tried, and it did.”

“...That’s your answer?”

What kind of reply is that? You just tried it because you felt like it?

What a deranged explanation.

Past ridiculous.

‘...Is this something you can do just because you want to?’

Ordinary spirits can’t meddle with others like this.

Paralysis—sure, a ghost with some years might. But a spirit-dream is different.

‘At least a general-class...’

Or a mountain spirit—those, or something gone all the way to vile spirit.

‘...’

Watching Yoo Cheongil relish his success, I clicked my tongue inside.

Fine. If it’s him, maybe it’s possible. The thought came unbidden.

“Pleased with yourself?”

“A bit curious, yes.”

“...Right. Then end it. Let me sleep properly.”

I was “asleep,” but a spirit-dream leaves you mentally wrung out.

Sleep that isn’t sleep.

“Hm.”

At my wish, he tipped his head slightly. That alone made me uneasy.

‘...His eyes.’

Those fierce eyes, the corners bent a touch—that look he wears right before he makes trouble.

“Old man... what are you—”

The moment I tried to ask—

Thud!

“—Gah!?”

Pain slammed my skull and I dropped to a knee.

“Grr—!”

Brutal pain. What? What just happened?

I clutched my crown with a shaking hand and raised my head.

He stood right in front of me, fist up, studying me like a curious animal.

No way—

“...Old man. Did you just hit me?”

“Ohh... sits right in the hand.”

“You insane fossil?”

He threw a punch out of nowhere? I stared, dumbfounded—and then noticed something off.

‘Wait. He hit me?’

I grabbed for his leg. Caught it. A corded mass of muscle filled my hand.

“...Why can I grab you?”

That was strange enough—but there was a bigger problem.

“Why does it hurt?”

My head throbbed. Judging by the angle, he’d punched me.

“How is this hurting...”

It’s a dream, and yet the pain was razor-clear. My eyes wavered a moment in confusion—

“Good.”

With that chilling word, my vision lurched.

“Kh—!?”

His huge hand closed on my throat and lifted me clean off the ground.

“I was wondering how to fix this ill-bred brat’s manners—who knew I’d get a chance like this.”

“Ghh...”

His grip strangled the breath right out of me. His hand was so large it more than filled my neck.

“At last I can teach that body of yours something called respect. How about it.”

“...Hh... hh...”

I raised my hands and seized his wrist.

At once, the pressure on my throat loosened. He’d eased up so I could speak.

What answer did he want.

A frightened apology? A head bowed, a promise to behave?

Pointless either way.

I wasn’t giving him either.

“Cut the shitty joke... and put me... down. Now.”

Stuffing every ounce of annoyance into it, I spat it out. His smile vanished.

“Tch.”

He clicked his tongue, and then—

Thud!

His hand let go and I hit the ground.

“—Kuh! Cough!”

I hacked and spat dryly. His voice came down, full of disappointment.

“No fun. I thought you’d be a little rattled. For a youngster, your insides are ice.”

“...You pulled this to amuse yourself?”

I already knew he wasn’t serious.

He’s not the sort to do this much just to hurt me.

“Hng.”

“Hng my ass. If you’ve had your fun, end it. This is exhausting.”

“Heh. Listen to this brat.”

He laughed. That face was as lethal as ever.

“Boy, you know I can torment you all I like here, and your tone is poor. Shall I torment you more?”

“As if you don’t every day.”

He hadn’t hit me before, but as far as harassment goes, same difference.

“And if you truly wanted to see me bow, I’ll never do it—not even if I die.”

“Hm? Why?”

He looked honestly curious.

Why not bow to him?

There was only one reason.

“I don’t bow to ghosts. No matter what.”

He snorted a laugh.

“Odd words for someone with my leash on his neck.”

“There are matters of force majeure.”

“Strictly speaking, you mean things bend to your convenience.”

“The essence doesn’t change.”

I don’t bend my pride to a ghost. If he were human, maybe.

To a ghost, not a chance.

“Hm.”

He watched me in silence.

We looked into those blue eyes a moment.

“Well, suit yourself.”

He tipped his chin and flicked his hand.

And then—

Tok.

“...Huh?”

Something dropped before me. A sword, as it turned out.

A true blade, finely made.

“...What is this.”

Where did a sword pop out of—

“Take it.”

“You did that?”

“Yes.”

‘...You can do that too?’

A first for me. I’d had a few spirit-dreams in my past life, but my presence was so strong that few spirits could linger long.

And none of the ones that managed it had done anything like this.

But...

‘This is new.’

It was already absurd that being hit hurt. This went further.

‘What are you, old man.’

At this point, he was edging into frightening. I picked the sword up.

‘...The feel is real.’

From the texture of the grip to the proper weight—solid.

Can I even call this a dream? I was starting to doubt.

“Got it?”

“Yes. But what for...”

“Nothing much. I can’t keep crawling into your body to fight. And with that internal art, it’s about time I taught you something.”

“...!”

I widened my eyes. Which meant—

“You’re going to train me? Here?”

“Perfect timing, isn’t it.”

“I mean...”

Hard to say no. Besides—

‘Lessons from the old man, huh.’

Honestly, I was excited.

Cursing him in my head wouldn’t change that he was the World’s Greatest of his era.

Being taught by a man like that—nothing to dislike.

‘Right. If he has a conscience, it’s about time he did something.’

After all I’d crawled through, he was finally throwing me a bone. Unexpected.

‘But will this help?’

No matter how real it felt, this was a dream.

Train here and it all resets when I wake? The thought passed, but—

“Focus.”

“Yes.”

Whatever. Do it first. I fixed my mind.

“Then, endure.”

“Yes. ...Pardon?”

Something about that sounded wrong, so I looked at him.

But—

“...What? Old man?”

He vanished. Right before my eyes.

Where did he run off to now? I was wondering when—

“What are you.”

A voice arrived.

I turned, and where there had been nothing, someone stood.

“...What now.”

I narrowed my eyes. A person I’d never seen.

Wild, black hair; uniform clotted with blood.

In his hand, a great saber with no edge left—ruined by years of use.

I couldn’t make out every feature, but a young face showed through.

About my age.

At most a year or two older or younger. And—

‘...Moon Eyes?’

A youth with blue eyes like mine.

What was he. I studied him a breath.

“I asked what you are.”

He asked me, instead.

His voice raised gooseflesh down my spine.

‘How does a human voice—’

Get that rough, that savage?

My hand on the sword shook on its own.

“So you won’t answer. «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» No matter.”

Not that I wouldn’t—my voice just wouldn’t come. The killing intent pouring off him ruled my body.

In that instant—

He moved his legs as he looked at me—

“An enemy, either way.”

The next words came from right beside me.

I’d just seen him far away—how was he here? Shock snapped my head that way, but—

Slice—

With a sound of something being cut—

My view fell away.

As the ground rose toward my eyes—

I realized my neck was gone.

****

“—Hah!”

I bolted upright with my eyes open.

“Kh— hah—”

Both hands clamped my throat.

My palms felt everything.

“...Huff... huff...”

With trembling hands, I scrubbed my face dry.

I’d died.

I’d just died in a dream.

Cut down by someone I didn’t even know, in a blink.

“F—...”

So vivid it was sickening.

Especially that slow fall to the ground after my neck came off—that I’ll never forget.

“Huff... huff.”

I evened my breath and wiped the sweat collecting on my brow.

My hands still shook, but relief rose from within.

‘A dream is still a dream.’

However vivid the death, I’d come back. So it was a dream.

That was enough. With that decided, I sharpened my eyes.

‘You damned old man.’

Where is he now? I had a lot to grab him for.

I turned, eyes blazing—

“Oh my...”

“...!”

And froze at the voice that came with the morning.

A voice that should not be here.

Creak— creeeak.

With a stiff neck I forced a turn.

On the windowsill, framed by proof of morning light—

Sat a woman, hands folded demurely.

She looked cold and quiet—and impossibly beautiful.

Her pretty eyes curved like a crescent as she looked at me.

Then her cherry lips parted.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Cheon Hyein.

Seeing her, I knew for sure.

“I’m still in a nightmare.”

“...?”

“A real dog of a nightmare.”

“...”

A faint crease formed between her pretty brows.