After Junseok cleared the 5th floor, approximately two minutes later, the player community, Player Inside, erupted once again.
[Function is BACK!!!]
└ Bro took two days to play hard-to-get. Any complaints?
└ Function: Yo, it’s your bro.
└ Function: Yo, when I’m bored, I break records.
└ Who dares impersonate our Function King? Aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?
[All the S-ranks trembling at Function’s return, hit recommend. Me first.]
└ Dude, don’t even jokingly impersonate an S-rank. You’ll die.
[Anyone know what the 5th floor hidden reward is?]
└ The rankers keep it tightly under wraps, but
they’re probably pissed and will spill soon lol. Wait for the news.
└ Wait, there’s a hidden reward on the 5th floor too?
└ What’s a hidden reward?
└ Some floors give extra rewards for the fastest solo clear on first entry.
└ There’s such a thing?
└ It’s hidden, hence the name. Only rankers quietly share that info.
└ Damn, they kept it to themselves? That’s infuriating. Function, smash all the hidden reward floors!
└ Let’s go, Function’s hidden floor wrecking spree~
└ I’m not gonna be the only one left out lol.
In truth, it was natural for most players to be unaware of floors with hidden rewards.
These were closely guarded secrets, shared only among top-tier rankers.
Even if you knew about them, the information was useless unless you could achieve a record-breaking solo clear.
Even on a platform like Player Inside, accessible only to players, such details weren’t openly discussed.
This was especially true for the 5th floor.
The 5th floor’s hidden reward was the Skill Breakthrough Voucher.
It was an item of a completely different caliber from the relatively common Skill Enhancement Voucher found in the Tower.
The Breakthrough Voucher was used to transcend a skill to its next level, forcibly unlocking hidden skills that would normally require maxed-out proficiency.
While an Enhancement Voucher merely improved the strength or utility of an existing skill, the Breakthrough Voucher added entirely new abilities or descriptions, enabling players to perform at a level previously unattainable.
Moreover, the Skill Breakthrough Voucher had a unique trait compared to other hidden rewards.
If Player A set a new record on the 5th floor and used the voucher, and then Player B broke that record and used another, Player A’s enhanced skill remained intact.
This meant the 5th floor was a tightly controlled layer by the government to maximize the number of players who could obtain the voucher, fostering growth for the ultimate goal of clearing the 100th floor.
The Player Management Office meticulously managed the 5th floor’s hidden reward clear times down to the second, strategically deploying players to ensure as many rankers as possible could claim it.
Their plan was to send in the 65th-ranked player, Oh Minsu, whose simulated 5th floor clear time was around 1 minute 10 seconds. The current cutoff for the hidden reward was 1 minute 14 seconds.
But then what?
6 seconds?
That wasn’t just breaking the record—it was obliterating it.
It was as if the Skill Breakthrough Voucher farming layer had been erased entirely.
The Player Management Office’s plans were shattered by Junseok’s unprecedented 6-second clear.
From their perspective, it was a devastating blow.
Of course, everyone has grand plans—until Function shows up.
***
At the Sejong Player Management Office headquarters, it was, as expected, an emergency from dawn.
In a soundproof, highly secure executive meeting room on the top floor—resembling an underground bunker or interrogation room—two men were engaged in a heated conversation. Well, only one was heated.
Player Management Office Director Moon Kwonsu’s face was red, veins bulging on his neck and forehead.
“Kang Jinsu, you bastard! What the hell happened?! Didn’t you say Function was under our control?!”
Despite the director’s outburst, Kang Jinsu didn’t so much as blink.
“That’s correct.”
“Then what’s this about him clearing the 5th floor solo in 6 seconds?!”
Even as the yelling continued, Kang’s expression remained unchanged.
The director’s anger was understandable.
“How do you think the five major guilds and rankers will see us now? A bunch of incompetent fools!”
“My apologies.”
The 5th floor’s hidden reward, the Skill Breakthrough Voucher.
How many rankers were lined up waiting for it? If they wanted, they could’ve rushed the 5th floor solo and snatched the reward.
Yet they waited patiently, abiding by the Player Management Office’s promises and management, all for the shared (superficial) goal of clearing the Suseo Magic Tower.
They’d agreed to forgo immediate power gains to maximize the number of players who could obtain the voucher.
And then Junseok slashed that time to 6 seconds.
No, he didn’t just slash it.
He blocked any further chances of obtaining the Skill Breakthrough Voucher.
Who could possibly clear the 5th floor in under 6 seconds?
Impossible.
The 5th floor’s clear condition was annihilating a goblin army—over 100 goblin soldiers filling the hill. Among them was the Goblin Centurion, a level 23 overpowered mid-boss for a low-level floor, earning it the nickname E-rank Slaughterer.
Countless E-rank melee players had died to it, making the 5th floor a league apart from the 4th in difficulty.
For another player to surpass Junseok and clear it solo in 5 seconds? Impossible.
“Did you or did you not tell him about the 5th floor’s hidden reward?!”
“I didn’t.”
“Why not?!”
“My mistake.”
“Why the hell did you make such a ridiculous mistake?!”
The director’s shout was so loud the windows vibrated slightly.
“I didn’t think there was a need to tell him. I didn’t expect him to challenge the 5th floor solo, let alone clear it in under a minute.”
“Even after hearing about his records on the 1st and 2nd floors?”
“I thought his failure to set records on the 3rd and 4th floors meant his 1st and 2nd floor clears were flukes.”
The director sighed heavily.
“Look, you saw his summon, didn’t you? You passed out trying to appraise it! You said it’s an assassin type, confirmed through interrogation! And another guy fainted too, right?”
“Yes.”
“This doesn’t add up! Are you some kind of foreign spy?!”
“My apologies.”
Moon Kwonsu, panting, chugged cold water and sighed.
“Is that really all? You didn’t tell him because you thought it was unnecessary since you couldn’t believe in Function?”
“Yes. He’s F-rank.”
“Good job. Great work, huh?”
Kang, feeling a bit wronged, continued.
“Lee Jiyu, Supersonic Bunny, is an S-rank player with a summon, and even she couldn’t beat Junseok’s time.”
“I thought it was a reasonable doubt. I didn’t think he warranted that level of valuation.”
“Correct.”
An S-rank with a summon couldn’t break that record, yet an F-rank with a summon did.
It was perfectly logical to assume the latter had less potential.
“I… You think I had those eight who saw Junseok’s face dealt with because I’m sloppy? Ugh, forget it. Listen, Kang Jinsu.”
“Yes.”
“If this goes any further south… you’ll be joining those eight in the Tower, got it?”
“Understood.”
The “eight” referred to those who’d seen Junseok’s face—likely the ones who met their end hours ago.
Officially, they’d be listed as missing in the Tower, though they’d never entered it.
The reason was obvious: to maintain confidentiality about Junseok.
His face and identity were classified, unknown even to the director.
Of course, figures like the President, the Player Management Office Director, or the Defense Minister could access it if they wished, though such access would be permanently logged on the server.
Regardless, the Player Management Office had limited knowledge of “Function” to Kang Jinsu alone.
From the higher-ups’ perspective, whether Function was Choi Junseok, some random Cheolsu, or Nakamura Jun didn’t matter.
As long as he was within their surveillance, his identity was confirmed, and he was tackling the Suseo Tower, they just had to monitor the goose laying golden eggs.
But Function had struck at their core assumption.
Being under surveillance doesn’t mean he’s controllable.
“My mistake. I’ll ensure it’s handled without issue.”
“Handled, my ass. Fine, get out. From dawn, the player guilds will be blowing up our phones all day.”
“I’ll handle the calls.”
“You think a team leader answering phones will fix this? Huh?”
The director, who looked like he’d aged a decade in hours, sighed.
“Get out.”
Kang Jinsu bowed and walked down the corridor.
A strange question crossed his mind.
If he’d told Junseok about the 5th floor’s hidden reward?
If he’d asked him to adjust his clear time?
Would Junseok have complied?
Kang pondered but couldn’t be sure.
One thing was certain: he’d need to treat Junseok with utmost sincerity going forward.
This wasn’t someone to challenge or test.
That morning, as newspapers and media outlets prepared their headline stories, the front pages of morning news and dailies were dominated by Function.
The coverage highlighted his activities, focusing on the 5th floor’s hidden clear condition and reward.
<Function: Questioning the Government’s Order Around the Magic Tower>
<Is the Player Management Office’s Order Sustainable?>
<Function: Still Not Recruited by the Government>
<Function: The Unprecedented F(x)-Rank. Who Is He?>
<Player Management Office Avoids Comment on Function, Calling It “Premature”>
***
Around the same time, Junseok, who had unintentionally thrown a massive question at the government’s Tower system, was in a dire state.
“Urghhh!”
He was half-buried, struggling to pull himself up.
Gasping for breath, he emerged from a pile of dirt.
I almost died.
His clothes told the story of his ordeal.
He’d entered wearing a long-sleeve shirt, but now it was reduced to short sleeves, his top and pants drenched in blood.
“Honestly, if you told me to do it again, I couldn’t.”
He needed to change before heading back to his family.
Recalling the moment, Junseok shuddered.
He knew the 5th floor’s clear condition and terrain, but still—
I really almost died.
Shaking his head, he exhaled heavily, recalling the moment.
He’d summoned the holy sword with the image of it slamming downward.
In the few seconds before it hit the ground, Junseok threw himself toward the nearest, largest tree.
He pressed himself flat against the ground, facing the direction of the impending storm.
His preparation was simple: he held a unique-grade Perfect Healing Potion in his mouth.
He was proud of pulling it all off in 5 seconds, but what was truly impressive was swallowing the potion without spitting it out despite the ensuing pain.
As he envisioned the holy sword slashing downward, it responded, plunging vertically into the ground.
BOOM!!
With a massive shockwave that seemed to tear the entire 5th floor apart, a deafening roar and blinding white light engulfed everything, making it impossible to keep his eyes open.
The ground beneath him surged like waves.
A scorching heat and wind threatened to burn him alive.
The holy sword, slamming into the ground, brought a colossal dust storm.
The upheaved earth swallowed Junseok like a tsunami.
Even Nayeon, who’d been shielding him from the brunt of the aftermath, vanished.
The shockwave nearly tore both his arms off.
Amid the overwhelming pain and encroaching dirt, his vision faded.
Moments later, the potion’s effects barely brought him back, and he frantically raised his head.
That’s how he earned the Skill Breakthrough Voucher.
[Would you like to use the Skill Breakthrough Voucher? (Y/N)]
The moment he selected “Yes,” a new line was added to his skill description.
Ding!
Skill: Inventory Master
Category: Non-Comba
t
Rank: F
Description:
– Can equip any bag, which becomes an inventory upon equipping.
– Optimizes spatial utilization.
– Can remotely summon items from the inventory.
– Can summon multiple items from the inventory simultaneously. (NEW)
Multiple summons?
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
Just as he thought the breakthrough was underwhelming, an image flashed in his mind.
At the same time, the Sword God within him slapped his knee and exclaimed,
“Finally! You’ve grasped one level of the Sword Control Art!”
The image Junseok envisioned was similar.
A famous anime character, Gilgamesh, used a skill where dozens, even hundreds, of weapons poured out from a subspace, raining down on enemies—Gate of Babylon.
It felt like his inventory ability was less about storage and more about evolving into a subspace ability.
[Would you like to return? (Y/N) You will automatically return in 30 minutes.]
“No.”
There was something he needed to confirm.
A new way to utilize his skill, breaking free from level 5.