Chapter 17: Holy Sword Click, Clear (2)

It was a family dinner, but her chopstick skills were visibly clumsy.

Her trembling chopsticks barely managed to scrape up some rice from the bowl before she spoke.

In just half a day, Choi Junseok and Lee Nayeon had grown much closer.

Thanks to the sword he gifted her, Junseok had taken her to all the places she wanted to visit, giving her a tour of Seoul.

“Let me get this straight: you accept all the support your lord provides but ignore their requests?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, is that how it works?”

“Well, it’s a bit different. The state… isn’t exactly my lord.”

“How so? You pay taxes and receive support and gifts in return, don’t you? You’ve even been granted a residence—a fief, essentially. We call that a vassal contract. A pledge of loyalty.”

“Well, it’s a bit different in modern times…”

The atmosphere between the two had become so friendly that even Junseok’s mom and sister at the dinner table noticed.

But, unable to stand by any longer, Mom Lee Junhee stepped in to steer the conversation.

“Hey, hey! No work talk during dinner!”

Nayeon tilted her head, as if she didn’t quite understand, but nodded without much protest.

Her serious nod contrasted sharply with the single grain of rice stuck to her cheek.

“Nayeon-unnie, want another bowl?”

“Is that alright?”

“Of course! You’re climbing again tonight, right? You need to eat up.”

“Then I won’t refuse.”

Mom had gone grocery shopping for the first time in a while and cooked herself.

Since she quit her job at the magic stone processing plant, hospital bills and cash flow issues had made proper meals rare.

The sight of mixed grain rice was a welcome one. These days, decent grains were often pricier than white rice.

It was nice to see, but… Do summoned beings even eat food?

“Is bread more to your taste, Nayeon-ssi?”

The question came up during the meal. They were truly treating Nayeon like a person.

“No, rice is delicious too.”

“Then why are you only eating the rice?”

“Huh?”

“You’re supposed to eat the rice with the side dishes. And there’s soup too… I thought maybe the doenjang soup wasn’t to your taste. Did you not know?”

Nayeon bit the end of her chopsticks, scanning the side dishes with a grave expression.

As if inspecting soldiers before a conquest.

“A combined meal, I see.”

“Combined meal?”

“A splendid formation. I can sense the commander’s skill.”

…

“Uh, thank you?”

Nayeon’s expression was profound.

The combination of rice and side dishes—what an infinitely versatile and dynamic arrangement.

Her gaze was that of a quartermaster planning supplies and rations.

“What, Nayeon-unnie, you weren’t eating the side dishes?”

“Hey, you didn’t know that and still offered her another bowl?”

“I didn’t know! Mom, who watches what someone else eats? Geez.”

Junseok’s sister promptly took Nayeon’s bowl and headed toward the rice cooker.

“If a fork would be easier, should I get you one? Oh… we don’t have any forks, do we?”

“It’s fine. It’s best to adapt flexibly to equipment optimized for the local terrain.”

Lee Junhee glanced at her son, finding Nayeon’s conversation style peculiar, but Junseok just kept shoveling rice into his mouth without a word.

“She’s a bit unique. She’s someone who jumped here from medieval France.”

At Junseok’s nonchalant remark, Nayeon nodded without changing her expression.

But it was Lee Junhee who got upset.

“Hey! What kind of way is that to talk? To a modern person!”

“Oh, did that offend you?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s the truth. I’m not even sure if I can fully call myself a modern person—or a person at all.”

“Oh, what do you mean? You’re just as human as anyone else.”

“…Human.”

Nayeon seemed to sink into thought at the word.

But Lee Junhee didn’t let her dwell in silence.

“If not human, then a goddess? Haha! You’re so beautiful, you remind me of myself when I was younger…”

“Wow, Mom, that’s really not it.”

***

At the same time.

All five major guilds were searching for the codename “Function,” but the Eden Guild in the east was particularly desperate.

One of their top players was grinding her teeth in frustration.

Lee Jiyu, the Supersonic Bunny, hadn’t stopped attempting solo clears of the 1st floor.

Even if she cleared the 1st floor faster than Function, the hidden reward wouldn’t come.

She knew only the first solo entry’s record counted.

Still, it seemed she was determined to reclaim the record for the fastest clear.

Or perhaps it was to honor her lost summoned being.

It had been five days of this. If she weren’t a ranker, they might have found a substitute by now.

The entire top raiding party of the five major guilds was suffering losses because of her.

But her fame and influence meant they couldn’t just order her back to work.

To utilize her as a resource again, they needed to either recruit or eliminate Function.

In any case, Function had become a thorn in their side.

“So, what’s his deal? If he’s not hiding his identity or an illegal foreign infiltrator…”

“He’s genuinely a Korean F-rank Awakener. That’s the prevailing opinion.”

Even piecing together various clues, it was unlikely a foreign player had suddenly entered.

“They said they were bringing in a bunch of Indian players for the mid-level elevator project, right? Could it be one of them?”

“We’ve completed a full investigation. None of them were the first to enter the 1st floor.”

“What about the possibility of a foreign black ops agent?”

“We can’t rule it out, but according to National Intelligence Service info, nothing’s come up.”

No chance of someone sneaking in through official routes like ports or airports, posing as a civilian.

It was like passing through thermal cameras during the COVID pandemic.

All items go through inspection, appraised with Appraisal skills upon entry.

“So, he just popped out of the ground, is that it?”

“Exactly.”

That made it most likely he was a new domestic player.

“Has the government not found Function’s whereabouts either?”

“Well… it seems they have. They’re pretending to keep looking to throw others off.”

“What?”

“Apparently, American brokers who made secret contact were dealt with. They traced the brokers’ contacts and found Function.”

Function already made contact with brokers?

What? Then why haven’t they found him?

“Did you pull the list of everyone who contacted those brokers?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t we know who he is yet?”

The Eden Guild leader in the east listened to the report with growing irritation.

It was only natural to be frustrated.

They thought they’d have found him in a day or two.

But the response was unexpected.

“All of them have gone missing or are uncontactable. My guess is… if we dig any deeper, it could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Did you just say dangerous?”

How absurd.

Would anyone dare hide Function in the face of the five major guilds’ influence?

For a guy whose only achievement was a low-floor record?

“If the five major guilds united and went on a one-day climbing strike, do you know how much national loss that would cause?”

Magic stones and monster parts from each floor were a major economic driver, but the biggest issue would be the ultimate failure to conquer the Suseo Magic Tower.

“You think Function, that one guy, is on the same scale as our guild?”

Before the blame could spread further, the report continued quickly.

“All 13 individuals who learned Function’s residence through the American brokers have gone missing.”

“What?”

“It seems someone higher up is… determined to keep him hidden.”

“No matter how high up, it’s not higher than the Magic Tower. The Tower isn’t a place you can climb alone. Function’s bound to slip up eventually.”

“You mean the 10th floor.”

The Eden Guild leader nodded.

“No matter how much the government tries to hide him, a player is a player. Loyalty bends inward, and players get player info the fastest.”

“Yes. The 10th floor requires a three-person simultaneous raid.”

“Exactly. Even excluding the summoned being he likely got from clearing the 1st floor, he’ll need at least one more person. And that’s not all—6th floor has physical attack immunity, and the 7th floor has magic immunity. His limits will start showing soon.”

Even beyond that, climbing the Tower solo was physically impossible in many cases.

Some floors even displayed a recommended party size warning before entry.

“As you said, Function will inevitably need to recruit allies. And that will inevitably leak information.”

He knew that.

If they waited patiently, they’d find him eventually.

The problem was he wanted to find him quickly—before the other five major guilds.

“Alright, get out.”

“Thank you. What about the 38 F-rank players we’ve secured?”

“Send them.”

“Four of them… are unfortunately tied to the underworld. What should we do?”

“Some of them are connected to the underworld, you say?”

“Why ask? Just take care of them.”

“Understood.”

As the head of a corporation controlling 20% of the player world, eliminating a few F-rank players was no big deal, not even a burden.

But one guy was different.

That mysterious F-rank player.

‘Function…’

A few hours later.

Under the alias Function, real name Choi Junseok, was preparing to climb the Tower with Lee Nayeon, holding a smooth strategy meeting.

Team Leader Kang, joining via phone, spoke to Junseok.

The government is still skeptical about you.

“Even after I’ve set these records?”

Two reasons. One, the lowest floors are barely even considered low floors. Two, there’s doubt about your abilities.

“Ah, so it’s all thanks to my summoned being?”

That’s one theory. 

Of course, I don’t doubt you, but I’ve been ordered to verify your limits.

Junseok caught the underlying meaning in Kang’s words.

There likely wasn’t any specific order from above to verify him.

Kang was probably assessing his value on his own.

Deciding how much support was appropriate.

Keeping him on the scale, weighing him without tipping it yet—watching closely.

And no wonder.

Two new officetels.

Plus six pieces of equipment from the VIP shop.

Those alone must have eaten up a significant chunk of the Player Management Office’s reserve budget.

‘And I know why he’s talking like he’s testing me.’

It was because of the 6th floor’s monster, the Giant Slime.

A perfect counter to physical attacks.

But since Kang believed his summoned being was an assassin…

Would you like to review the 6th floor video footage we sent in advance?

“Yeah, I’ve seen it.”

A vast plain resembling a soccer field stretched out.

A simple setup with a Giant Slime positioned far in the distance.

It was information an ordinary F-rank wouldn’t easily get.

Junseok already knew the floor from his past life’s experience, but admitting that would raise suspicion, so he stayed quiet.

Plus, it let him hear high-level info and floor details he wouldn’t know as a porter.

Pretending ignorance, Junseok asked, “There’s a slime in the middle, huh? Looks pretty big.”

Correct. It’s a Giant Slime. 

Physical attacks don’t work well, and if you kill it with a physical attack, it splits into two. 

It can split up to 64 times like that.

They must’ve tested that like perverts.

Of course. Everything is data. Climbing is a battle with data.

Climbing is a battle with data?

Junseok thought differently.

It was a battle of summoning a holy sword and surviving its aftermath.

“Out of curiosity, how far did they test it?”

How far?

“I mean, how much physical force did they test it with?”

Oh, that’s what you meant. S-rank physical attacker Lee Chanwook, the Flash. 

Even his signature move caused it to split. 

If the final blow is physical, it splits. 

That’s a fixed system rule…

Then there’s no problem.

Of course… you’ve been shattering all our data so far, but this floor will be tough.

“Oh… really? I think differently.”

Junseok-nim, do you know what players call the first six floors?

“No.”

The tutorial. 

From now on, the scenery you’ll face… it’s a completely different world.

Kang was trying to scare him, but Junseok already knew the scenery well.

“Got it.”

At Junseok’s lukewarm response, Kang thought, This guy might die sooner than expected.

How many had died in vain, boasting about awakening S-rank or A-rank skills, overconfident in their abilities?

The fastest clear record for the 6th floor is 14.8 seconds, rounded to 15 seconds as per usual Tower records.

“15 seconds.”

Yes. 

If you want to claim the consecutive fastest clear reward for five floors, you’ll need to clear it in under 14 seconds. 

Any questions?

“None.”

If there are no further questions, I’ll end the call. Safe climbing.

Click.

Right after the call ended, Kang let out a sigh and pulled a cigarette from his chest pocket, putting it in his mouth.

Checking the time, it was exactly midnight.

Lighting his cigarette for one last moment of relaxation before leaving work, the lighter clicked, sparks flying from the flint.

A joke had been circulating among the Player Management Office staff lately: that they might have to switch to 12-hour night shifts because of Function.

But Kang had responded to the joke with a cold smile: “Well, Function’s passed the tutorial stage now, so his limits should start showing soon, right?”

The Tower wasn’t a place you could climb solo forever.

His colleagues nodded in agreement.

The 6th and 7th floors required team play.

Kang took a deep drag on his cigarette, swapped his slippers for dress shoes, and was about to grab his coat when—

A commotion erupted outside the team leader’s office.

“Function! 6th floor fastest clear! Emergency!”

“Solo fastest clear… time: 5 seconds!”

The shouting of his colleagues echoed outside.

The clock had just ticked to 12:01 a.m.

No longer surprised, Kang calmly set his coat back down.

He swapped his shoes back for slippers, lit another cigarette, and erased one assumption about Choi Junseok’s abilities from his mind.

Physical attack capability = None.

‘Or… overwhelming physical force.’

But what did it matter?

A sigh escaped him.

“Ugh… when do I get to go home?”

Under the weakly held cigarette, the lighter’s flint clicked uselessly.

At the same moment, a call from the Director arrived on his phone.