Every day after finishing his favorite movie, young Roso would rush out of the house without fail. There was never hesitation, never delay—his friends were waiting at their spot in town, and their legendary game awaited them.

  Their ritual was simple: recreate scenes from their favorite movie, The Hand of Bliss. But what made their play special was not accuracy—it was imagination. They never forced anyone to play the same character twice. Heroes, villains, mentors, sidekicks—they switched roles freely, laughing and arguing over who got to shout the iconic lines each day.

  The whole town knew them. Children running full speed down the streets, pretending to purge evil with magical powers. Some adults found it annoying. Most found it adorable. And a few even played along—cheering them on, pretending to be villains, or collapsing dramatically when “purified.”

  Then one day… everything changed.

  It happened while they were playing as usual. A man joined them without warning—tall, quiet, smiling. They didn’t know it at the time, but that man was the real actor who played the Hand of Bliss in the movie they adored. But before that shocking day, there was one more memory—an event they planned with childish seriousness for weeks.

  The Big Role-Play Event.

  On that morning, Roso woke up earlier than ever. He rushed through brushing, bathing, eating, and doing every chore his parents could throw at him—anything to make sure he wouldn’t be forced to stay home. When everything was finished, he sprinted out of the house with a victory grin.

  The meetup time was 10 a.m. sharp. And for once, everyone was on time.

  “Hi guys!” Roso waved, barely catching his breath.

  “Perfect timing,” Alphonse said, already waiting. “Seems like everyone’s treating today seriously.”

  Buhl laughed. “Of course! We all worked on this. Today is going to be epic.”

  “Then let’s go,” Roso said. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

  They marched toward their first target—the large white house in the center of town, intimidating yet perfect for their stunt.

  When they arrived, Buhl froze. “Whoa… this is the house?”

  Everyone fell silent. It looked even bigger than they remembered.

  Roso whispered, “Let’s start. Quiet and fast. If the owners notice us early, the effect won’t be the same.”

  Alphonse nodded. “Buhl, you know what to do.”

  “Yeah, yeah—I’m the trap guy.”

  Their “trap” was their proudest creation—a mechanical box they had designed themselves. Inside was a hydraulic hand connected to a trigger system. Once the box sensed movement and opened, the hand would spring to life, splashing water on the target for dramatic effect.

  A ridiculous concept… but for the children, it was genius.

  Roso reminded Buhl, “The trap only activates if the door stays closed while you set it. And don’t forget the sensor afterward.”

  “I got it.”

  The kids scattered. Buhl carefully installed the box, then called quietly:

  “It’s all set, Alphonse.”

  From his hiding spot “Roso, get ready,” Alphonse whispered into his communication device.

  Roso grinned. “Time to shine.”

  He sprinted toward the door. Just as a confused adult peeked out, the box popped open—splash! Water soaked the poor man’s face.

  Roso pointed dramatically and shouted with all the might in his small body:

  “Hand of Bliss—PURGE!!!”

  The man gasped, startled… then burst into laughter.

  The kids ran off, screaming with joy before they could get scolded.

  House to house, store to store—they repeated the same ridiculous trap and catchphrase. Some adults were irritated. Some laughed. Others played along beautifully, pretending to collapse under the “purification.” It didn’t matter. The kids had the time of their lives.

  They didn’t stop until 4 p.m., when their voices were hoarse and their energy was almost gone.

  A few days later—high on success—they decided to increase the difficulty.

  Instead of placing traps only at doors… they set them all around a particular street, waiting for unsuspecting passersby.

 But among all their targets, there was one man they had been aiming for nonstop… and failing every single time.

 Today, that man—always punctual, always sipping coffee at the same store—was going to be there again. And Roso and his friends were ready.

 Alphonse called first. “Buhl, the newcomer is passing by today.”

  “I’ve got everything prepared. Is he really coming?” Buhl whispered back, excitement leaking into his voice.

 “Yes.” That was all Alphonse needed to say.

 Buhl hurried forward, placing the trap exactly as planned. A few minutes later, he called again. “The trap’s set at store number twelve. Is Roso in position?”

  “Good. Let me contact him.” Exclaimed Alphonse before he ended his call and made another one “Roso, you’re inside store twelve, right? He’s already on his way.”

 “I’m here. As soon as he steps inside, I’m acting.”

 It was perfect—too perfect for them to fail this time.

 The man they’d been monitoring for days—an unfamiliar foreigner who’d recently moved into town—walked leisurely along the street toward the store, oblivious to the ambush awaiting him.

 The bell rang as he pushed the door open.

 CREAK.

 Instantly, the mechanical box activated—its spring-loaded arm swinging forward to drench him with water.

 Alphonse immediately called. “He opened the door! Roso?”

  “…I got it.”

 Five seconds passed.

 Then ten. Yet no victory cheer.

 “Roso!? He’s in the store already—what happened!?” asked Alphonse

 “Roso, answer us!” Buhl and Alphonse shouted over the phone.

 Finally Roso spoke, disbelief shaking his voice.

  “He dodged it… he dodged the water.”

 Silence.

 Then:

 “What!?”

 “Operation failed,” Roso sighed.

 Still they didn’t give up.

 They set trap after trap—different angles, different triggers, different stores.

 Yet none worked.

 So they tried the unthinkable: cooperating with the man.

 Suprising enough he agreed.

 They then prepared another set of trap, this time expecting success since he promised to play along… yet when the mechanism fired, he evaded again.

 Alphonse shouted, frustrated “Why did you dodge!? You said you’d play along!”

 The man simply smiled. “I am playing along. But I’m the villain, right? A villain doesn’t get caught. If the hero isn’t strong enough… the villain may even catches him instead.”

 Roso paused, stunned by the logic. “Guys… he’s right.”

 But Buhl and Alphonse protested. 

 Before the man continued “If you want to neutralize me, surprise me. Until then—your traps are entertainment.”

 The next day, he invited the kids on an outing, and they eagerly canceled their usual activity to follow him.

 They traveled far beyond town until grassland stretched as far as the eye could see.

 “Beautiful, right?” the man smiled.

 “Whoa! I didn’t know this place existed!” Buhl shouted.

  “Same here…” Roso murmured.

  “Watch closely. I’ll show you something interesting,” the man said calmly. Then he inhaled—drawing in both vital energy and magic—and then leaped.

 SWOOSH.

 He flew upward, climbing higher and higher into the sky.

 Buhl’s jaw dropped. “Did you SEE that!? He just jumped and started FLYING!”

 “You’re excited over that?” Alphonse muttered.

 “What do you mean by that!?” Buhl fired back.

 Roso ignored them—his eyes locked on the man steadily rising toward the clouds.

 Then the man bellowed. “DIVINE ARM!”

 And a storm erupted.

 Wind howled across the town—vital energy rushing from every direction, converging toward the man. A colossal arm took shape in the sky, shining with blinding light.

 The kids screamed “HAND OF BLISS! HAND OF BLISS!”

 Then—just as suddenly as it formed—the giant arm dissolved.

 The man slowly descended, eyes sharp.

 “Next time, don’t get yourselves purged. If you chase a villain, be strong enough to defeat him.”

 Those were his last words to them.

 And after that day, the kids stopped playing aimlessly… and the mysterious man waa no where to be seen.

 Years later, after remembering that strange encounter, Roso exhaled and told Buhl “Yeah… I remember. We have to get stronger—strong enough to score high on the entrance exam.”

 They talked for a long time before going home.

 But Roso’s mind wouldn’t settle.

 That same night, he went straight to the gym—on foot—arriving a little past 9 p.m.

 Weighted gear strapped to his body, he began his training: push-ups, sit-ups, relentless repetitions without rest.

 Whispers filled the gym. 

 “Look at that. Who trains like that at night?” muttered a man in circle by people at a coner of the gym 

 “Isn’t he the morning-session guy? I heard rumors…” muttered one of the people in circling the guy in the middle

  “He must not have gotten the results he wanted.” muttered another one - he had a t - shirt with the dumble imprint.

 While they gossiped, heavy footsteps approached.

 A tall man walked down the gym corridor, flanked by followers—Gustave.

 “Sir, I’m curious about the score you’ll get tonight,” one of his minions said.

 Gustave smirked. “Tonight is special. My father’s company manufactured a new heavy-duty suit. I’ll be testing it. I want to see the limits of my body—then break past them.”

 His subordinates nodded, confident. “That’s our boss. Always impressive.”

 Gustave walked toward the training hall…

 accompanied by his men