'Forget that brat! He strutted around as if the world owed him something. Nighthale didn't touch him until he pushed first, then he demanded that Nighthale work under him. He brought his own doom.' 'Facts. Did you hear that line? "I was born above the clouds; you filth belong under my heel." Dude really thought he was the final villain.' 'He even smirked while blocking Nighthale's path. Sure, Nighthale can force his way through, but what about everyone else? We'd be stuck inside the city forever.' 'You saw it, right? Even Swiftwind—an actual big-name assassin—got treated like a servant. If he gets shoved around, we're done for.' 'That guy's face alone gives me cold sweats. I swear it feels like a blade digging into my back. Does anyone else feel that?' A separate group argued for reasons entirely different from those of the others. 'Look, that idiot deserved a beating. I wanted to punch him, too. The real nightmare is what comes after. Nighthale killed someone directly at the respawn point. If he wants someone erased... they're erased.''In theory? Yes. That's what keeps me up at night.' 'So what do we do if we bump into him the wrong way? That's it for us?' "Use your brain. If he enjoyed killing people, half the city would be a graveyard already. He only moves when someone pushes him first." 'You're too optimistic, kid.' The forum spun into chaos as both sides yelled over each other. The spotlight wasn't fading. This was the first time Nighthale appeared openly, and the first recorded incident of a player taking another player's actual life through the game. The ripple didn't stop online. Governments took notice. ... Grendola, within a restricted meeting hall. The air felt dense, almost suffocating. Officials filled every seat, their expressions tight and shadowed with concern."Our current assessment shows that, inside Doomsday, Nighthale's strength surpasses every known player. Even the NPC authority figures at the central hub fail to restrain him. That leaves us with a terrifying conclusion. If he marks someone, that person is effectively dead." Philip's complexion darkened further. His only son had died. Rage turned his heartbeat into a drum. What stung even worse was the fact that they still had no reliable trace of the killer's identity. For a man used to manipulating outcomes behind the scenes, being unable to retaliate felt like losing control of gravity itself. "I wish I could deny it," the young analyst muttered while adjusting his glasses, "but we currently have no means to counter him." "That's unacceptable," the middle-aged man next to Philip muttered. He was Bryan's uncle, though he didn't mourn his nephew in particular. Everyone in the room knew Bryan's reputation for provoking conflict. The real danger wasn't the dead youth.The danger was the precedent. A person capable of ending lives at will couldn't be tolerated. It was no different from planting a time bomb—silent, unpredictable, and impossible to control. "This situation is becoming untenable. We must find a method to remove the risk entirely." "An unregulated top-tier player is equivalent to an assassin with no leash, and his identity remains unknown. That's what makes him truly dangerous." "He represents a major destabilizing factor." Heads nodded one after another. They were forced to consider what impact a figure that overwhelming would have on the nation's broader social order. "So our first priority must be confirming Nighthale's identity. Any objections?" Philip's voice carried the weight of a verdict. Silence met his question. The lack of protest meant approval. No one wanted to encourage a grieving father. Yet, no one dared ignore the threat either.Bryan's death served as a brutal wake-up call. Doomsday allowed players to mask their identities completely. Nighthale wasn't the only unknown among millions. Most lacked his power now, but time could change that. These unseen dangers would eventually erupt. "How do we proceed?" someone finally asked. Philip turned toward his older brother. "Patrick, explain." Patrick rose. His tone dropped low. "The solution is straightforward. Conduct a nationwide census. Every citizen must tie their real identity to their in-game ID. Anyone who refuses faces consequences in the real world." "A census? People will riot. You'll stir up massive backlash," someone warned. They had anticipated that. Ever since Doomsday appeared, real-world deaths skyrocketed, and the social structure became increasingly fragile. The world teetered on the edge of chaos, one bad decision away.A collision between public freedom and national security felt unavoidable.