Chapter 1

Prologue

I like white.

When I was young, I saw something white and beautiful.

I must have been around ten years old. On a day when it was snowing heavily, I fell for the trick of some crazy guy who lived in the neighborhood and wandered outside fearlessly. I almost got caught in an avalanche.

At that moment, it was a white person who saved me, buried helplessly in the snow, about to die.

Dressed in white, with white skin, and hair that was more beautiful than the snow, fluttering in the midst of an avalanche that seemed to cover the world.

It was also the day I realized that a person made of mere bones and flesh was not just a being that crawled on the ground.

It was the day I clearly understood what kind of people the martial artists who were close to my grandfather were.

Somehow, the content of my monologue keeps getting strange, but let's attribute it to my limited vocabulary, which can't fully express the emotions I felt that day.

Anyway.

The reason I'm giving this strange monologue is because I keep hearing strange sounds.

"See, that's why talentless guys don't work. How did someone like you even get in here?"

Not that.

This guy just slapped my chin.

The strange sound I'm talking about isn't this. It's because I got hit properly, and my vision turned completely white, and I'm giving a monologue. That's not normal.

So, there's a reason I'm giving this monologue.

Yes, this.

A voice ringing in my head, as if there's another self inside me, and that self is talking to me.

I can hear a voice that I can't block even if I cover my ears. Even in a situation where I'm about to pass out from a hit to the chin during a sparring session, this voice is still clear.

So, I'm trying to prove to myself that I'm not crazy by talking to myself.

Someone, please tell me I'm not crazy!

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