I Used to Be Blind, But Now I See Too Much
I was blind.
Not the kind of blind where the world is a vague blur of light and shadow. No, I mean completely, irreversibly blind. The kind where even the memory of color starts to fade after a few years. Doctors called it a rare congenital disorder. I called it the universe deciding I didn't need to participate in the visual part of life.
Then the Black Tower appeared. Gates started ripping open across the planet. Monsters poured out, and humanity got its first taste of what real power looked like. Hunters rose up. South Korea became a global superpower almost overnight. And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, I received a skill.
Reversal.
That's what the System decided to call it. At first I thought it was some kind of healing ability. Maybe it would fix my eyes. Give me back blurry vision at best. I was ready to be grateful for even that much.
I was wrong.
The moment the skill activated, my world exploded.
I could see.
Not just see. I could see everything.
The individual threads in the nurse's uniform as she walked past my hospital bed. The tiny crack in the concrete three floors below me. The exact trajectory of a bird flying past the window six blocks away. I could see the micro-expressions on doctors' faces when they lied to patients. I could see the mana flowing through the veins of the low-rank hunter standing guard in the hallway like blood vessels made of liquid starlight.
It was too much.
My brain couldn't process it. The information overload hit like a truck made of pure sensory overload. I screamed for three straight hours until they sedated me. When I woke up, the skill was still there. Waiting. Watching. Showing me every microscopic detail of a world that had been mercifully hidden from me for twenty-four years.
That's when I realized something.
This wasn't a gift. It was a curse wrapped in the prettiest bow the System could manage.
Because the more I saw, the more I understood just how ugly the world really was. Every hidden motive. Every concealed weapon. Every lie people told with their bodies while their mouths said something different.
I had spent my entire life in darkness, and now the light was trying to burn me alive.
So I made a decision.
I would hide it.
I'd keep my eyes closed in public. I'd wear the darkest sunglasses I could find. I'd let people think I was still the same helpless blind girl they'd always pitied.
Because if they ever found out what I could really see, if they ever learned that nothing could hide from these eyes anymore, they'd either try to use me...
Or they'd try to kill me.
And something deep in my gut, some new instinct that came with the skill, told me both options were equally dangerous.
After all, in this new world of hunters and monsters and towering gates that led to hell itself, there was one universal truth:
The sniper who hides his eyes is the one who survives.