Suddenly, just as Vonjo stood there with his crooked grin, basking in the stunned silence that followed his chaotic aura, waiting with a flicker of smugness for the system to rain him with rewards—because of course he’d stolen the damn show—the world seemed to hold its breath.

He believed that he did great!

Follow the system mission and show off!ñ

“That should be enough? Right?” Vonjo would mumble.

He could almost taste the tension in the air.

The audience, both present in the coliseum and digital, stared, transfixed.

He was not expecting applause. He was not expecting something like awe.

However, he was expecting something befitting the feat he had just pulled off.

But what followed wasn’t applause.

Not exactly.

A cascade of bullet comments exploded across the sky-view feed, fluttering like angry flocks of birds—names with tags like LorthranLoyalist, LightningGodSimp, OlioconoPurist—one after another screaming in disbelief, their words slicing the silence like razors.

“NO WAY.”

“WHO THE HELL IS THIS VONJO GUY??”

“Stronger than Lorthran?? You mean THE Lorthran???”

“This can’t be happening. NO. NO. NO.”

“Blasphemy. Blasphemy. Burn him.”

“He’s featless! He’s FEATLESS!!”

“No aura farm, no nothing, just edgy entrance and a cape.”

“Fake power scaling. Just studio bait.”

“Lorthran one-shots him. Easy.”

“DELETE THIS CHAPTER RN.”

“No actual feat. No lore. Just vibes.”

“Is this some side project filler arc???”

“I’m gonna throw my screen out the window.”

“Lorthran LITERALLY fought the entire Regulus Army and erased a continent with a smirk.”

“You cannot compare a literal god of war to this bootleg villain-of-the-week.”

“Lorthran is HIM. Always was. Always will be.”

“I can’t believe this guy just stood there and they’re calling him stronger.”

“The disrespect.”

“The delusion.”

“The disgrace.”

“Unsubscribed.”

Seeing these comments, Vonjo blinked. Then he turned his head ever so slightly, glancing back behind him as if checking to see if anyone else had caught that—like maybe the world had misfired.

His gaze lingered on Eugene, the so-called main character, and then flicked to George, the boy’s stoic, war-hardened father.

After thinking something wasn’t right, Vonjo finally muttered as he understood, ”Did they… just say I’m stronger than Lorthran?”

For a moment, even Vonjo’s breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t just a comparison—it was an outright claim.

A public broadcasted heresy in the eyes of the fanbase. And it wasn’t just any name they invoked. It was Lorthran. The Lightning Emperor. The Uncrowned God.

Vonjo knew the legend, of course he did. Everyone did.

A revived human from the Olioconoblood Era, the apex of history, an age of impossible magic and unspeakable cruelty. Lorthran had no equal in his time, no rival worthy of his fury.

They said he offered his life willingly to a forbidden witch—just so he could be reincarnated in a timeline where someone could challenge him.

He wanted a legendary battle. He wanted a life and death situation. He wanted a fucking fight.

And now, Vonjo’s stomach twisted. Because it hit him—

“Oh no,” he whispered. “Oh no no no…”

He slapped his forehead. Hard.

Lorthran was Eugene’s teacher. Of course. That smug, hidden aura Eugene kept trying to mask. That impossible rhythm of training he kept vanishing for. It all clicked.

But Eugene didn’t know. Not yet. He had no idea that his mentor was a literal relic from an era soaked in blood and myth.

That he had been chosen by a man who considered entire timelines nothing more than hunting grounds.

And now? Now they were saying Vonjo was stronger than him?

Vonjo stared into the storm of bullet comments again.

“VONJO IS FEATLESS.”

“Name ONE feat. Just ONE.”

“Meanwhile Lorthran’s sneeze vaporized a volcano.”

“He aura-farms every entrance.”

“He rewrote lightning laws in Chapter 201!!”

“VONJO AIN’T BUILT LIKE THAT.”

Vonjo let out a long breath. He knew the fans had a point. He hadn’t built up a legacy. Not yet. He hadn’t stood on battlefields soaked in the ashes of titans. He hadn’t rewritten fate. He hadn’t earned fear.

Not the way Lorthran had.

But still… deep in his gut, Vonjo knew. He didn’t need their validation.

He could feel the black pulse of power beneath his veins, the quiet hum of something ancient and coiled—watching, waiting.

And then—Ding.

A system window blinked to life, its mechanical voice flat, emotionless, but the content—

Oh gods.

Ding!

System Analysis Complete.

Spectacle Level: Tier IV (Spectacular)

Title: Scene Stealer.

Category: Disruption of Narrative Hierarchy.

Analysis:

You have disrupted the established power narrative.

You have stolen the spotlight from a Protagonist-tier entity.

You have rendered major supporting characters obsolete in a single moment.

You have triggered a cross-dimensional outcry.

You have sparked a lore-crisis among dedicated fans.

You have initiated comparisons with Legendary Figure: “Lorthran.”

You have caused significant server traffic delays.

You have forced moderators to issue a warning tag on real-time stream.

You have broken the momentum of the Main Character.

You have become the focal point of at least seventeen live-streamed panel discussions.

You have raised suspicion from higher-order narrative regulators.

You are now marked as a potential narrative disruptor.

Audience confusion: 89%.

Audience rage: 63%.

Audience obsession: 44%.

Result: Spectacular Show Stealer.

Rewards Unlocked:

[Protagonist Skill: Archery (Complete Mastery)]

[??? Unknown Gift]

Status: Completed.

Vonjo didn’t speak. He couldn’t. The words just… kept coming, wave after wave, every line more absurd than the last. More impossible. More real.

A soft glow radiated from the system screen, and then—

Ding!

Skill Assimilation: Archery (Complete Mastery)

And then it hit his head.

Like a floodgate bursting open, knowledge surged into him—like someone had torn the lid off his skull and poured the entire history of archery down into the pit of his mind. His breath caught. His body jerked.

Suddenly, he was a child holding a wooden bow, arms trembling as he missed target after target.

Then, a teenager, adjusting for wind speed, understanding angles.

Then, a soldier, drawing in the middle of combat, loosing arrows while dodging fireballs and flying steel.

He was watching himself hone the bowstring tension, calculate arc trajectory without thinking, moving with unblinking calm through every battlefield.

He was breathing like a hawk in a hurricane, string drawn, fingers relaxed, heartbeat slow.

Years of trial. Decades of perfection. Millennia of evolutionary instinct compressed into him in an instant.

A god of bows.

When the light finally dimmed and his thoughts settled, Vonjo’s body remained still, his pulse steady, his gaze distant.

He stood on the edge of something dangerous now—not just because of what he could do—but because of what he now understood.

Then another screen flashed gently before his eyes.

A final confirmation.

Profile:

Name: Vonjo Sutterfouse

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Occupation: Exorcist (Bloodline Awakened)

Danger Level: 17 (Amount of Fallen Curse Energy)

Passive Bloodline Abilities:

– Multiworld Eyes

– Endless Doom (Black)

Bloodline Abilities:

– Crimson Doom (Unlock to be permanent)

– Cerulean Doom (Unlock to be permanent)

– Ultraviolet Doom (Unlock to be permanent)

Normal Abilities:

– Swordsmanship (Basic)

– Gun Mastery (Medium)

– Hand-to-Hand Combat (Medium)

– Knife Mastery (Low)

– Archery (Complete Mastery)

Vonjo stared at the glowing profile with unreadable eyes, the weight of his identity clicking into place piece by piece.

And he knew—

He wasn’t just a side character anymore. But something was wrong. Something was really wrong…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep