The quiet road had become a chaotic crash site. The culprit car's front was completely crumpled, its bumper bent into a sharp V-shape. Skid marks scarred the asphalt. Motorcycle riders lay scattered, motionless and fate unknown. An Yi sprawled at a twisted angle.

Pain! Agony!!

Every muscle, every cell felt shredded alive! His chest heaved violently, as if flames raged within, burning his consciousness to ashes!! That car—it was a demon! It had flung everyone away... He’d doomed them all...

Bang!!

The car door groaned open with a splintering crack. No—it wasn’t opened. Mirror October stepped out leisurely, shattering the entire door into glass-like dust. Such terrifying power, displayed with casual ease. He brushed his spotless black coat with pristine white gloves.

His steps were light, dreamlike. Mirror October stood atop this hellish scene, wandering with desolate sorrow like Dante in Inferno. He stopped before the immobilized An Yi. Crimson eyes flickered with cold indifference.

Beneath his feet lay not a dying man, but discarded trash. Recognition struck. Memory flooded back. Saw’s game... He, An Yi, had accepted it... That game!!

"Hello, An Yi. Forgive this unsuitable meeting place. 'Finally meeting' fits better than 'first meeting.' We’re strangers, yet you know my name. Yes—I am Saw." An SS-Class supervillain. He’d murdered countless Superheroes. His name was once taboo among them! Saw!

An Yi’s pain-blurred pupils snapped into focus. He strained to flee that slender demon’s crimson gaze. Deep within, the most terrifying image surfaced—his sins...

"Relax, An Yi. I controlled the impact precisely. You won’t die... for now." Mirror October’s tone was almost kind. Compared to greater tragedies, An Yi’s suffering meant little. "People deceive themselves—thinking punishment won’t come. But judgment arrives too late..."

Coldly stating harsh truths, Mirror October crouched. Beneath his hood, only a pale, deep smile was visible. "I’ve watched you long, An Yi. You disappointed me greatly. Calling yourself road emperor—does today feel familiar? Think carefully..." Time to count your ugly sins!

Months ago... same night, same car, same scene, same arrogance. An Yi, high on impulse and drugs, ordered companions to force-stop a car. He’d accidentally killed a man...!

Prompted, An Yi recalled that face—resentful, unwilling to die. He later learned: that man missed his daughter’s surgery forever. Irreparable tragedies followed.

"An Yi, I hate two kinds of people. Those who trample justice in its name. And those who disrespect life... Sadly, you became both." Mirror October despised the ungrateful, hated schadenfreude lovers. The world overflowed with them.

With deft motions, Mirror October pulled An Yi’s intact phone from his pocket. He unlocked it expertly, tapped a hidden audio file. A slight press—

A hoarse voice crackled: "Hello, An Yi. Let’s play a game. You don’t know me, but I know your sins. Think only the living judge you? The dead stay silent? You’re wrong. Rules: Would you kill an innocent to hide your guilt? The man in white gloves—he’s your target. I hold your evidence. Listen to your heart, An Yi..."

As the recording played, Mirror October echoed the rules in the same deep, magnetic voice. "An Yi, the game ends. You’ll die without redemption."

The merciless god judged. True—An Yi lived, despite his shattered body.

"Cough... why..." An Yi forced out a mosquito-soft question through crushing pain. Why find me? Why do this? Why not spare me?

"That question is mine, An Yi. Why support that fatherless family after killing him? Lingering kindness? Or guilt?" Mirror October had seen saints and villains. But such contradictions in one soul—even he sighed. That’s why the game paused. Why he still spoke.

"...I just did it. It was guilt... I wronged him. I’d repay... Wanted to surrender. No courage..." An Yi struggled, life draining. Darkness, cold, and emptiness crept in. He voiced the weight in his heart. "Game over. Thank you... Saw."

Relief washed over him. A peaceful smile softened his once-arrogant eyes. Their light faded, life extinguished. What pity—to realize too late what he should’ve done. If reborn, he’d never... never die burdened by guilt again!