Then, her voice echoed—not in his ears, but directly inside his heart.
"Can you feel it?"
Fisherman Elo didn't know how to respond. His thoughts were a tangled storm.
He was confused—he didn't understand where this warmth came from. He longed for it—wanted more of it, deeper, stronger, lasting forever.
He feared it—feared it might fade, might vanish, might slip through his fingers before he could hold on. He was greedy for it—wanted to seize it, keep it, never let it go.
But even then, he knew—what he craved wasn't just warmth. It was something else. Something deeper. Fisherman Elo didn't know how to describe it. Not because he'd lost it—but because it had never been part of his world to begin with.
His days were spent hauling nets, mending boats, chasing weather that never stayed kind for long. When the sea fed you, you were grateful. When it tried to drown you, you just learned to hold your breath longer. Warmth? That was firewood in winter, dry boots in a storm—nothing more.
But Player Elo understood what Fisherman Elo longed for. It wasn't complicated. It was simple—Love. What Fisherman Elo wanted was… the ghost girl's love.
Her voice came again—soft, distant, impossibly clear: "Will you help me? I need your help."
Fisherman Elo didn't hesitate; his answer came steady and sure: "Yes. I will." The words carried no falsehood—only quiet, unwavering sincerity.
A pause. Then her voice returned, calm and remote, like something drifting down from the sky: "Good. Then I'll be counting on you from now on."
"…Understood, my lady."
"Very well. Let's get to know each other. My name is Ena. And you?"
Hearing that name, Player Elo couldn't help but praise it—Good name.
At the same time, Fisherman Elo opened his mouth and answered, "Rio. Rio John."
It wasn't a name Elo made up on a whim. Rio John was real—a fisherman who had lived sixteen quiet years by the sea, until a shipwreck took everything from him.
Then Ena's voice returned, soft but steady: "Rio, I need your help to recover something I've lost. I can feel it... far, far away from here. And I know this journey won't be easy. You'll have to grow—stronger than you are now. But I'll help you. Our souls are already one. You are me, and I am you. My path makes your path easier. My power walks with you. You may not understand any of this yet—but in time, you will."
Fisherman Elo bowed his head, heart steady, voice firm: "I won't let you down, my lady."
Once more, her voice filled his thoughts: "You can just call me Ena. Our bond is far closer than you think."
If the one inside this body were truly Rio John, even with her permission—he would never dare. She was a Transcendent. And he was nothing more than a poor boy from a fishing village.
But in truth, the soul inside this body was not Rio John's—it was Elo's. And that was why Fisherman Elo would never act exactly as Rio once would have. Instead, calm and steady, he said: "Understood, Ena. Tell me what I need to do."
Her voice remained calm, but the words carried quiet weight:
"I need you to understand me—to know me, to feel me. Not to follow my orders. Our fates are tied together. And emotion... is also a kind of transcendent power. Only by truly accepting each other can strength, skill, and potential flow freely between us."
If Rio John were still the soul in this body, he'd never get what she meant. But Rio was gone. Now it was Elo here—and he understood instantly. Let's not pretend—this was a full-blown cheat code.
Most people got some half-dead old man trapped in a ring, whispering cryptic advice and maybe throwing out a fireball once a week. He, on the other hand, had a ghost girl. Not just any ghost girl, but a beautiful, high-spec, all-in-one soul-bonded companion with maxed-out support features.
Others had to sweat for every scrap of progress—memorizing theory, chanting spells, grinding through dusty books for years just to cast a spark. Fisherman Elo? He skipped all that. If Ena knew it, he could do it. No study. No effort.
Where most cultivators spent decades meditating just to touch a single technique, Elo could pull it off the next day—because Ena had already unlocked it.
Warriors usually bled for strength, training their bodies day after day with no end in sight. Elo didn't. All he had to do was keep the bond alive, and her power flowed straight into him—full, instant, no strings attached.
Everyone else grew at the mercy of their own talent and limits. Fisherman Elo's growth depended only on Ena. Whenever she advanced, he advanced with her—like leveling up every time she did.
The only thing he didn't get was her knowledge. Ena understood every skill, down to the smallest detail. Fisherman Elo didn't. Most of the time, he had no clue why it worked—only that it did. But that was enough. As long as Ena kept learning, he could keep borrowing everything she unlocked.
That connection, however, went both ways. If their trust wavered, if their bond soured—like a couple falling into quarrels and silent cold wars—the link could short out without warning. And when that happened, every skill, every boost, every drop of borrowed strength could vanish in an instant—like a game character suddenly losing all their buffs mid-battle.
But really—she was a ghost girl, she was beautiful, and she lent him her strength without hesitation. Player Elo's only thought was: who in their right mind would be cruel enough to make a girl this cute and stunning angry?
So yes—Elo understood exactly what Ena was saying. Not just the words, but the whole thing: the system, the bond, the rules behind it. And deep down, this was his actual reaction:
♥(๑> ₃ <)♥
Cliché setup? A mysterious girl appearing out of nowhere? An overpowered support system handed to the protagonist in chapter one? A soul-level bond so close they already looked like a couple—barely ten minutes after meeting.
Yes, all of that. They were obvious flaws in the script. But so what? Did any of it really matter? Elo's answer was simple: Of course not. Because this was a game from the beginning. And games are meant to be fun. Not just for him—but for [Her], too.
Sure, Elo understood everything Ena explained. But Fisherman Elo? He didn't, not really. Then again, that didn't matter either. What mattered was that Player Elo had understood every word.
Even so, one line did reach Fisherman Elo: "I need you to understand me—to know me, to feel me. Not to follow my orders." That line made him pause, just for a moment, as if quietly trying to figure out what it meant.
In truth, Fisherman Elo could understand her words. They weren't complicated—she simply wanted him to be closer to her, to build a bond between them. He didn't know that such a bond could bring greater power, but he didn't need to. Knowing that Ena just wanted to be his friend was enough.
And Elo wanted that too. So he searched for a way to keep the conversation going. Lifting his gaze toward the strange, unfamiliar world around him, he found a topic—any topic—to bridge the silence.
"Ena, where… is this place?"
Her voice returned, steady as ever: "I don't know. Ever since I came into being, I've been trapped on this beach. I can't leave it. Every time I try to go too far, I get hurt. But your arrival changed everything. You gave me a chance to leave—because your soul is special. We can fuse together. And through that, I can finally leave this beach."
Fisherman Elo understood what she meant, and that gave him a sense of security. Because what she had really told him was this: She couldn't leave without him. She needed him.
But Ena didn't stop there. "I've lost many of my memories, but I still remember a few things—enough to know that I'm not a normal ghost. Most people can't see me, hear me, or even sense me at all. And it's not just ordinary people—most Transcendents can't perceive me either. Only certain souls have the ability to sense my presence. But sensing me isn't the same as containing me. And you… you're the only one whose soul can contain me."
She paused briefly, then added, "That blond boy with you—he can see me, hear me, even feel me. But his soul can't contain me."
At those words, Fisherman Elo turned to look at the sixteen-year-old blond boy. A name floated through his mind: Vel John. His brother. They had grown up together, fished together, weathered storms together. But they shared no blood. Vel was blond. Fisherman Elo, brown-haired.
The surname "John" had come from Vel's birth father. Fisherman Elo had been a nameless orphan, a starving street kid taken in by Vel's father. If not for Vel's father, Fisherman Elo would've died long ago.
So when Fisherman Elo saw Vel lying there, a wave of relief hit him. But the relief didn't last long—because the next second, worry took over. Vel wasn't moving, and Fisherman Elo had no idea if he was alive or dead.
Before he could move, Ena spoke again: "You don't need to worry about him. He's only asleep."
Hearing that, Player Elo rolled his eyes. "Asleep? Yeah, right. The System says she's reading a novel."
Although Player Elo rolled his eyes, Fisherman Elo let out a quiet breath of relief. Vel was alive—and for now, that was all that mattered. But almost immediately, another worry surfaced in his mind, and he asked, "Can I tell him about you?"
To Player Elo, the question was only a formality—he already knew the answer. But for Fisherman Elo, it was different.
Although he didn't fully understand Ena yet, he was certain of one thing: Ena was extremely special, and her existence had to remain a secret. Telling Vel about her would be reckless. The more people who knew, the greater the risk of exposure. And that secret could very well become a death sentence for Vel.
Once those with ill intentions realized Vel knew the secret, he would become their target—captured, tortured, forced to give up the truth. That was why, if Rio John were the one facing all this now, he would have done everything to keep Vel far away from it. But the one speaking wasn't Rio—it was Elo. And the one inside Vel wasn't Vel John, but Elo's sister, Vian.
If Vel didn't know about Ena, he would never be able to truly take part in this journey. To keep him in the dark would only leave him on the outside, a passenger rather than a companion. Being honest from the very beginning was the only way to let him truly share the road ahead.
Ena's voice answered in a flat tone: "Rio, I know your worries. You don't want to drag him into this. You want his life to remain safe. But I have to tell you: that thought is wrong. If we're targeted by enemies, our friends will be caught in the crossfire—whether they know the secret or not. Even if they're unaware, the enemies can use them as leverage to force us into submission. So if you truly want to protect him, you need him involved in our journey. Help him grow stronger along the way. Because only through strength can we take control of our own fate."
Fisherman Elo hesitated for a moment, then gave a slow nod. "…Alright. I'll tell him about you. And I'll make sure he keeps it to himself."
Ena's voice came calmly: "My intuition says she is someone we can trust. When things get hard, you should listen to her advice more often."
Elo's eye twitched. She? Vel's a guy, you know.
Of course, he understood what Ena meant. She was telling him, in her own way: Listen to your little sister more.
Fisherman Elo chose to ignore the "mistake" entirely. He didn't react. Didn't even blink. He simply replied with a flat, "Got it."
"Good," Ena said. "Now wake him up. We need to leave this beach."
Fisherman Elo nodded…