Ghostlywatcher

Kael was never meant to be a hero. Bullied, broken, and betrayed by the world, the 95 kg high school shut-in had nothing—no friends, no purpose, just scars hidden beneath his hoodie. But when the world begins to collapse into chaos, and God Himself unleashes judgment upon a sinful humanity through monstrous ancient beasts and divine reckoning, Kael is chosen.

Why?
Because even when the world was cruel, Kael remained righteous.

Gifted with Divine Echo, an S-rank ability that removes all limitations from any power he uses, Kael begins a transformation—both physical and spiritual. From obsessive training and relentless self-discipline, he sculpts his body into a weapon. From heartbreak and trauma, he forges a mind sharper than any blade. And from isolation, he builds resolve—unshakable and merciless.

But this is no fairytale redemption.
Kael isn’t here to save the world.
He’s here to survive it.

With humanity collapsing, safe zones crumbling, and ancient predators ruling the Earth, Kael must lead, fight, and manipulate his way through a new reality—one where power is truth and morality is a luxury.

He’s no longer the boy others could ignore.
He’s the ghost in the fog.
The saint with bloodstained hands.
The one whose echo will never fade.

Saint:My Daily Routine Became My Superpower

The wind stung Kael's face as he stood atop a crumbling highway overpass, staring down at the sprawling city below. The buildings stood tall, but the people below were broken—shadows of humanity scurrying through filth, fear, and silence.

A glowing sigil still flickered faintly on Kael's chest—residue from the divine mandate he had received only hours ago.

> "This city… has rejected My mercy. Its strong prey upon the weak. The innocent are shackled. The streets are soaked in sin. Go, Chosen. Deliver My wrath."

The name of the city was Vireholm—once a beacon of civilization, now a tyrant's playground. Power here belonged to gangs, warlords, and enhanced mercenaries, many of whom had been altered by rogue scientists seeking to recreate the power of the Chosen.

Kael's boots crunched as he stepped forward, his Ghost Veil softly distorting the air around him like a heat shimmer. From this moment on, he was no longer just a divine instrument—he was judgment incarnate.

In the slums of Vireholm, a girl no older than fifteen was being dragged through the dirt by two men in body armor, laughing cruelly. She was thin, bruised, and barefoot. Around them, no one moved to help. They had seen this play out too many times. Intervention only meant joining her fate.

Suddenly, both soldiers stopped. A gust of wind—sharp, cold, unnatural—blew past them. Before either could turn around, their heads rolled from their bodies.

The girl collapsed, too afraid to scream.

Kael stood behind them, swords drawn, red mist slowly fading from their blades. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was cold:

He vanished in a blur, appearing deeper into the city's heart.

News spread quickly. The warlords and enforcers gathered in a black-tinted skyscraper that still bore the emblem of the old world. Surveillance drones played the footage of Kael's entrance over and over.

"He's a ghost," one man spat, slamming his fist on the table. "He's not human."

"Doesn't matter," said another, older and more mechanical than man. "We have weapons. Enhanced soldiers. Let him come."

A woman in silver armor leaned forward, her lips curling into a smirk. "If he wants to play judge, he better be ready to bleed."

But none of them realized: Kael wasn't just here to punish criminals—he was sent to cleanse the city.

The sky turned red with the reflection of flames. Kael moved like a storm through the streets, cutting through abusers, traffickers, and corrupt guards. He didn't just kill them—he made an example out of them. Blood marked his path like divine ink on a parchment of justice.

From the alleyways, children and old survivors peeked out at the carnage and found hope in it. They began to follow his trail—not as warriors, but as witnesses.

City of Sin