“Of course, I’m kidding. I need some rest too. Clearing the 5th floor of the Tower wore me out.”
“Understood… I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
Kang Jinsu’s impression of Junseok as someone not to be underestimated solidified.
“May I ask one thing?”
“Go ahead.”
“How did you clear the 5th floor in 6 seconds?”
“Did I?”
“Yes, you did.”
Junseok feigned ignorance with a playful tone.
“Was it my summon’s power? But if it’s an assassin type…”
“Hey, don’t pry. It’s a national secret.”
National secret.
Indeed, it was.
To protect Junseok’s identity, several agents had been dealt with.
Only a handful of top decision-makers had access to information about Function, and even that was heavily restricted.
Yet Kang, one of the few at the Player Management Office who knew Junseok’s identity, couldn’t wrap his head around it.
An F-rank skill, Inventory Master—such a lackluster ability.
How the hell does he keep breaking records with a skill like that?
Puzzled, Kang watched Junseok’s retreating figure.
“Mom, we’re moving tomorrow.”
It was around 12:30 a.m.
Despite the late hour, it didn’t feel unusual since Junseok often worked night shifts.
His mother’s eyes widened as if they’d pop out.
Leave this miserable container home?
“Is… is that true?! Really?! The Player Management Office is doing this?”
“Yep.”
“What kind of skill did you awaken to get this kind of treatment?”
“Wait, for real, Oppa?! Did you clear the 5th floor too? The internet’s going crazy right now!”
Junseok nodded quietly.
Five days of climbing.
Yet the rewards he’d earned, converted to Korean won, were already worth two houses.
Sure, they were government-owned rentals, but still, they could escape this wretched container-turned-shelter.
Honestly, even Junseok couldn’t believe the wealth he’d amassed in less than a week of climbing.
A three-bedroom apartment in Seoul easily cost over 1.5 million won a month in rent.
And he’d demanded two units—3 to 4 million won in rent alone.
Clearing just five floors and getting this kind of treatment?
He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what awaited in the mid and upper floors, though he hid his expression.
For now, he nodded solemnly in response to their questions.
Looking at his family, it sank in.
This is my official debut as a player.
A crown comes with its burdens.
Behind the glory and wealth of being a player lay the ugly underbelly of player society.
It meant his family could now be in danger.
He had to protect them in the real world’s predatory jungle.
The real battlefield for players wasn’t in the Tower—it was in reality.
Having worked as a porter, Junseok knew this well.
“Both of you, you must never tell anyone I’m the player called Function.”
His serious expression made them nod with an oddly solemn air.
“This isn’t just a casual warning. If it gets out that I’m Function, we’re all in danger.”
“Why?”
“Because the people who fear and guard against players the most are other players—especially the five major guilds.”
“They won’t leave me alone if they find out I’m Function.”
“That serious?”
His sister, unfamiliar with player society, thought he was exaggerating.
At the same time, his mother spoke up.
“Why not reveal your identity and join one of the five major guilds? Wouldn’t a big corporation like that protect you?”
Lee Junhee’s eyes sparkled.
The five major guilds.
Joining one meant a starting salary in the billions.
And that wasn’t all.
Quarterly incentives from Tower clears often surpassed the annual salaries of mid-sized company employees.
Plus, as specially employed workers, their tax rates were half that of regular high earners, who could lose 40-50% to taxes.
But Junseok shook his head firmly.
“I hate to say this myself, but I’m not an ordinary player. If I joined one of the five guilds, the others would hunt me down.”
No matter how advanced modern law or investigations were, getting stabbed in the back inside the Tower was too easy.
Even outside the Tower, quietly eliminating someone was child’s play for them.
Would they try to recruit an unpredictable figure like Function?
Or just shoot him and call it a day?
Established players would, without question, choose the latter.
The five major guilds, as they were called, were massive entities.
But I’m not a force they can control.
“I’m going to build my own independent faction. You could call it a player guild, but rushing to put up a sign and start a business would get me killed. So, for now, I’ll build my strength quietly.”
Self-made success.
Let’s see how far this goes.
Junseok instinctively knew he’d eventually need to form his own guild.
He wasn’t the type to shine under someone else.
Could he even climb with other humans?
Maybe with summons, but surviving the holy sword’s aftermath would be tough for anyone else.
If he created a one-man guild and secured safety, wouldn’t it be the strongest solo guild?
Even the most elite rankers would fall if he summoned the holy sword—it was obvious.
“You know the people players fear most are other players, right? Top rankers live in highly secure villages with single entrances guarded by private security. Like gated communities.”
“I know…”
“The Player Management Office recognizes me as important, but they said they can’t assign security yet. It’d draw too much attention.”
That’s just how bureaucrats work.
Honestly, this treatment was already exceptional.
Until he proved more of his worth—until the five guilds feared him and the government fully recognized his value—he had to be cautious, like a dragon about to ascend dodging falling leaves.
“So, I’m going to make my presence known to everyone, anonymously.”
“The government doesn’t know who you are?”
“No, a select few in the government know I’m Function. And that information is under strict confidentiality.”
“For your safety?”
Junseok nodded.
“You know who wants the Tower’s 100th floor cleared the least? Players.”
No matter how many skills you awaken, it’s all because of the Tower’s existence.
Ironically, if the Tower’s 100th floor is cleared and it disappears, all players become unemployed.
Or they’d suddenly board flights as mercenaries to climb foreign Towers.
“The five major guilds have grown beyond the government’s full control. To survive both the guilds and the government, I have to stay hidden.”
Thankfully, his family seemed to understand the situation.
“By the way, moving tomorrow is so sudden. What about our stuff?”
“Don’t worry. They said they’ll handle everything.”
Kang’s words were true.
At dawn, a moving truck rolled into the player refugee village.
But it wasn’t a typical trailer for household goods.
It was designed to transport entire container boxes.
“You’re not seriously moving the container itself, are you?”
“Correct. It’s a container transport truck.”
Next to it was a massive crane, like one borrowed from a construction site.
Their sincerity in treating Junseok was clear, but it was overkill.
“You don’t need to go that far. Just give us a few boxes.”
“…That’s all you need?”
Apparently, Kang didn’t know much about life in the refugee village.
Maybe he was some rich young master.
“You saw last time—there’s barely anything to pack.”
“True. The two apartments we prepared are fully furnished, so you really only need clothes.”
Kang, continuing, looked haggard, like he’d stayed up all night nearby.
“Did you spend the night around here?”
“Well… yes. Some urgent matters came up.”
“Because of me?”
“Not at all. Don’t worry about it.”
“If you say so.”
“Once the other two are up, shall we start the move?”
There wasn’t much to pack—his mom had excitedly gathered everything the previous night.
All they needed were boxes.
Goodbye to this miserable container filled with sorrow.
Going to the communal bathroom in the middle of the night was bad enough for him, but he felt worse for his sister and mother.
How much pain had his late father felt watching them suffer?
Junseok could almost see his father’s back, tossing and turning in agony while pretending to sleep.
The moving process was simple.
His sister went to school as usual.
Junseok’s pointed stare at Kang ensured taxi fare and snack money were handed over.
Since the location was sent via messenger, taking a taxi would be easy.
The movers swiftly packed and left like the wind.
“Here are the spare keys. You probably won’t need them, but they’re for units 1101 and 1102. Move-in cleaning is already done.”
His mother tried to stay calm and composed, but she couldn’t hide the twitching corners of her mouth upon seeing the interior.
“Where do we put food waste?”
“You can grind and flush it in the kitchen.
Recyclables go to the sorting station downstairs—”
“Grind and… flush? Oh my!”
Ceiling air conditioners in every room, individual heating, three bathrooms, and a separate dressing room.
The apartments were equipped with top-tier appliances—air conditioners, washing machines, dryers—all fully furnished.
“Jun… Junseok, are you really okay?”
Kang smiled and showed his ID.
Player Management Office Team 3 Leader, Kang Jinsu.
“I didn’t introduce myself earlier due to the movers. Mrs. Lee Junhee, it’s a pleasure to meet you again. I’m Kang Jinsu from the Player Management Office. Please call me Team Leader Kang.”
His greeting hinted at future encounters.
Junseok’s mother grabbed his hand, shaking it up and down, expressing her gratitude.
“Oh my… is it really okay to receive such treatment? Thank you so much.”
“The Player Management Office spares no effort in supporting players’ hard work and climbing motivation.”
It was a high-end apartment complex with two units per floor.
Shouldn’t this be called an apartment?
But what did it matter?
“Uh, wait… two houses?”
“Yes, as Mr. Junseok requested, we secured them urgently. We went to great lengths to find ones near your sister Hyeri’s school. Supporting an outstanding son like him—nothing’s impossible.”
He’s got the units neatly sorted out.
Smart move.
His mother looked like she had more to say to Junseok but held back.
Her eyes alone conveyed pride, gratitude, and recognition of his struggles.
Tearing up slightly, she looked emotional, so Junseok quickly turned away, saying he had somewhere to be.
“I’ll be back after a quick trip. You settle in.”
“If you have any issues, don’t hesitate to contact—”
Kang, hesitating, nodded and continued.
“I’ll ensure no inconveniences arise and assist you closely.”
“Let’s go to the shop.”
Junseok boarded a black armored van.
A tinted partition separated the driver and passenger areas, creating an eerie vibe.
“It’s for security.”
“The items in the VIP shop are, frankly, quite expensive.”
“Oh? Are they pricier than those apartments, whether they’re rentals or not?”
“It depends, but the apartments are more expensive. Seoul real estate is costly.”
“I see…”
Still, it implied the items were pricey.
“But you’ll cover them, right?”
“Of course.”
“I know they’re not that expensive. The really valuable stuff isn’t sold like this—it goes to auctions.”
Kang glanced at Junseok through the rearview mirror.
Is this guy really a rookie player?
He was right.
Items displayed and recommended in the shop were called “VIP,” but the truly valuable ones weren’t sold this way.
At best, Unique-grade items.
Worth tens of millions each, typically used by players around level 30 in the mid-floors.
But if Junseok wasn’t just getting one or two but sweeping the lot, that was another story.
Supply creates price.
The VIP shop stocked items most used in the low floors (below 20), where most players operated, so even Kang’s authority had limits.
Junseok’s vibe suggested he was ready to clean out the shop.
“Of course, we want to support you as much as possible, but I can’t make promises. Some items are worth hundreds of millions or billions…”
“Still, you’ll do your best, right?”
And so, they arrived at the Player Management Office’s exclusive VIP shop.
Junseok’s first impression upon entering was:
This feels like a movie.
Entering a hotel-like building and descending to the basement, the entrance exuded grandeur and luxury.
A spiral staircase led to an elegant door, opening to a dimly lit interior with soft lighting and the unfamiliar scent of high-end cologne.
Greeting Junseok and Kang was a man unmistakably dressed as a bartender.
As bartenders do, he was polishing a glass with a cloth, speaking without looking up.
“Welcome. I’ve been expecting you.”
The interior resembled a high-end whiskey bar, the kind that only sold premium bottles.
Aside from it being broad daylight and having no customers, it was straight out of a movie.
“You brought a new guest today.”
“Show us the top-tier stuff.”
Top-tier?
The bartender’s eyes widened briefly before returning to normal.
Glancing at Kang to confirm his seriousness, he nodded and moved to the liquor cabinet.
He pulled out a few bottles, and with a smooth glide, the cabinet slid aside, revealing a display case filled with various cold weapons.
“Sir, what’s your class or combat style?”
Kang, as if his role was done, stood naturally.
“If it’s something I shouldn’t hear, I’ll wait outside.”
The two men’s serious expressions were almost comical given what Junseok said next—words that would’ve made anyone burst out laughing.
“My class is porter, F-rank. And… give me everything from that end of the display to the other end.”
“…Pardon, sir?”
A brief silence fell.
Kang, wetting his dry lips, looked at the bartender.
“It’s true. He’s an F-rank porter skill awakener.”
The bartender let out a chuckle and smiled.
“Quite the humorous one. Haha.”
“You’re serious?”
For the first time in his career, the bartender wet his dry lips again.
Junseok’s bold demeanor left him unable to hide his shock.
“Then let’s start with the best sword.”
Swallowing hard, Junseok’s eyes activated his appraisal skill on the equipment behind the bartender.
Magic stone grinding in the Tower?
Why bother with pocket change when he could get free stuff others had made?