The Player Settlement.
The sudden surge of S-rank and A-rank players moving into this place was simple to explain.
It was fear — the fear that they could become the next victims of player terrorism at any moment.
Otherwise, why would anyone give up their luxurious penthouses to come live here?
“Until players feel safe again, I expect quite a few people will continue living here.”
“How many residents have gathered so far?”
“Roughly just under 2,000, I believe… shall I confirm?”
Two thousand.
That meant only a tiny fraction of the player society had been granted entry rights.
“The reason we didn’t invite you earlier was because we weren’t sure if this was the right place to bring you. But, since you’ll gradually be entering player society anyway—”
“It sounds rather meaningful the way you say that.”
“It’s quite a hot topic in player society now. Even those who didn’t get an invitation want to come.”
That was hardly surprising.
Player society was notoriously closed-off, but in truth, everyone was only one connection away from knowing each other.
‘The government invited me to a secure residence.’
Just hearing that would’ve shocked plenty of people.
‘I’m recognized by the state as a valuable resource.’
What a perfect event to puff up one’s shoulders.
Even those with no fear of danger would have moved in just for the status.
The title ‘A person whose survival is overseen by the Player Management Office’ carried enormous weight.
‘Who am I? One of the chosen few—an elite player selected by the nation itself.’
“It’s not really something worth mentioning, but… some players even came to the Office to complain. Asking why they weren’t invited to move in.”
“…Is that so?”
It must’ve been a blow to their pride.
Choi Junseok, Lee Nayeon, and Song Hana followed Team Leader Kang Jinsu into the building, which resembled a luxury hotel more than anything else.
It hardly looked like the work of a government office.
“You splurged a bit, didn’t you?”
“There were a lot of people who wouldn’t come unless we went all out.”
“……That directed at me by any chance?”
Kang Jinsu chuckled and shook his head.
“Of course not.”
“When did construction begin? It couldn’t have been thrown together overnight after the terrorist attack.”
“Of course not. We’d recognized the need for it for some time. It was already nearly complete and awaiting operation.”
Awaiting operation?
“What does that even mean?”
“Well, no one wanted to move in before. That’s all. The situation’s different now, and we decided to adjust the operation policy—to stir up their sense of competition.”
That made sense.
“Looking at this place… did you even divide the rooms by class?”
Kang Jinsu nodded while glancing up at the grand hotel lobby.
A luxurious chandelier hung from the high ceiling, with a fountain and a small oriental-style garden flowing quietly in one corner.
“Yes. The room classes were also the Director’s idea—to encourage competition among players. He said, ‘Wouldn’t it be good to motivate their Magic Tower climbs through internal rivalry?’”
That was understandable.
The whole reason the government left Tower climbing to the private sector was to foster growth through competition and reward.
Now, it was clear.
This facility was simply a miniature version of the system built by the massive government and the Player Management Office.
“That’s my part done. You’ll get further guidance in the hotel lobby. Safe climbing.”
He bowed politely and left.
Choi Junseok walked up to the front desk clerk.
“Welcome. May I confirm your reservation? Your name, please?”
They’ve nailed the hotel vibe.
It really felt like checking in at an actual five-star resort.
Kang Jinsu hadn’t been exaggerating when he said it rivaled a suite room.
“Choi Junseok.”
Never heard of that name.
The clerk assumed he was just another A- or B-rank player and accessed the encrypted database.
Then—
“Choi Junseok… confirmation… h-huh?!”
[Choi Junseok – S-rank – Diamond Class, Room 1007]
Her eyes widened.
His room wasn’t just S-rank—it was Diamond class, the highest tier available.
It wasn’t surprising that he was S-rank; nearly a third of all residents here were.
But Diamond class… that was another matter.
“Diamond Class Room… is that correct, sir?”
“I wouldn’t know. If you say so.”
The clerk carefully handed him the card key, her eyes glimmering with excitement.
This was the first time in her entire shift schedule she had ever checked in a Diamond Class S-rank player.
“May I have the names of your companions for reservation confirmation?”
“Lee Nayeon and Song Hana.”
The clerk nodded and entered the names.
Then, confusion spread across her face.
The same room number appeared again—Room 1007.
“This is both your room key and your Player Village ID. It grants access to all facilities.”
She thought it was an error—until she saw the line below.
[Sharing room with Choi Junseok.]
What… is this note? Never seen one like this before.
Maybe it was a special request from the Player Management Office.
But when she checked Lee Nayeon’s profile, her hiccup betrayed her shock.
SS-rank?!
Blinking rapidly, she looked between Junseok, Nayeon, and Hana.
All were strikingly attractive, but Nayeon stood out the most—her exotic beauty radiating an otherworldly aura.
Now the reason was obvious.
No wonder… she’s SS-rank.
She hadn’t even realized SS-rank Awakeners truly existed until now.
Nayeon might well be the highest-ranked player in the entire complex.
The cold, expressionless eyes that had seemed distant now carried an unmistakable weight—
as if she were looking down from another world entirely.
And she too shared the same room.
The three of them… in one room?
For an SS-rank player, one Diamond suite would’ve been insufficient by default.
Yet they’d chosen to share a single room.
“Are the three of you truly sharing the same accommodation?”
“Yes.”
The reply came not from Junseok, but from Nayeon herself—cool and calm.
Her voice… even that’s perfect.
The clerk wanted to say something, but she couldn’t.
After all, even the Office itself had noted it down.
“All three of you have been verified. May I briefly explain the facility usage guidelines?”
Just as the orientation was wrapping up—
someone spotted them from across the lobby and began to approach.
It was Lee Jiyu.
She had been walking toward the elevator but froze when she recognized that striking silhouette—it had to be Nayeon.
“Oh my! What a surprise! Junseok, Nayeon—you two moved in too? I’m so glad you’re safe. Truly!”
Her relief was genuine.
No doubt she had lost—or nearly lost—player comrades of her own.
In a community where everyone knew everyone, the trauma ran deep.
Many had moved in purely for safety’s sake.
“When are we doing our model shoot?! The schedule’s so delayed, I thought I’d have to reshoot! You don’t have luggage, right? Everything’s provided anyway. Come on, let’s go!”
Nayeon tilted her head slightly.
“Huh? Oh, the modeling.”
Then she looked between Junseok and Jiyu.
If she was needed for the 21st-floor climb, Junseok could always summon her back instantly.
“Do as you wish.”
Nayeon didn’t seem particularly interested, but she had no real choice—Jiyu was already dragging her away.
Soon, Nayeon disappeared in Jiyu’s pink sports car, whisked off somewhere.
Junseok’s stomach growled.
He and Song Hana headed to the 24-hour restaurant.
From the earlier briefing, he recalled that there was a buffet-style restaurant on the first floor and a fine dining Korean restaurant on the eighth.
That wasn’t all.
There was also a gym, swimming pool, indoor golf range, tennis court, and basketball court—every possible amenity imaginable.
All free of charge.
Meaning, funded entirely by tax money.
If the public ever found out… there’d be outrage.
Before entering the fine dining restaurant, Junseok overheard a few murmurs from nearby players.
“Never seen that S-rank before. Must be a newly awakened one.”
“Yeah, but new faces don’t usually get access here. He won’t make it past the door.”
Their mocking tone was clear.
In truth, Junseok was an F-rank disguised as S-rank.
If anyone found out, it’d be chaos.
The irony was that even among S-ranks, arrogance still reigned supreme.
They were the most status-conscious—always wary that another S-rank might climb over them at any moment.
They even kept tabs on which new prospects had recently appeared.
The group smirked as they deliberately slowed their pace toward the elevator.
They assumed he didn’t know the rules—
that the VIP Fine Dining was restricted to Gold Class and above.
When Junseok tapped his card key at the entrance—
BEEP—
[Access granted. Welcome, Choi Junseok.]
Their eyes widened.
A stranger with a name they’d never heard, walking freely through? Impossible.
But the next message froze them entirely.
[Diamond Class verified. Administrator summoned.]
Their faces twisted in disbelief.
What kind of awakener was this man?