Chapter 49: Massacre of the Malice Family (1)

LGM-30 Minuteman.  

This devastating weapon, equipped with three nuclear warheads, was designed to turn the Korean Peninsula into a sea of fire.  

And that was exactly what it was meant to do.  

South Korea’s Missile Defense System (KMD) wasn’t advanced enough to intercept the missile piercing through the atmosphere.  

But what if a reinforced Shield Ticket was deployed twice over?  

What if, in addition, a special effect activated that reversed a one-time attack?  

The nuclear missile, originally launched to reduce the Korean Peninsula to ashes, ended up targeting the United States instead.  

A nuclear weapon, a disaster for humanity.  

One would expect devastating damage, but that was a misjudgment.  

[Kayle Turner of the United States has used a Shield Ticket for national defense.]  

[All territories within the United States are now protected by a powerful shield.]  

No wonder the so-called Awakening superpower lived up to its name.  

Though grouped among the four great powers, the US was universally recognized as the true strongest nation.  

They possessed national defense measures like Shield Tickets that Japan did not have.  

Thanks to that—  

“Kwakwakwak!”  

The LGM-30 Minuteman detonated in midair without causing any damage to either South Korea or the United States.  

The nuclear weapon, the pinnacle of modern science, vanished absurdly.  

***

“Kayle Turner.”  

I muttered the name mentioned in the message.  

It was a name known by everyone in the world, including myself.  

Unyielding.  

The world’s greatest tank.  

A hero of America.  

A true leader.  

There were many words to describe him.  

And all those descriptions shared one commonality: reverence.  

No surprise there.  

He was the pinnacle of American, no, global Awakeners.  

It was even said that the reason America had become the current Awakening superpower was because of his efforts.  

A major part of that stemmed from his unique trait known as the “Knight of God.”  

This trait allowed him to function as tank, dealer, supporter, and healer—all at once—truly a one-of-a-kind attribute.  

If anyone was approaching the conquest of the 70th floor, it would surely be someone who owned many tickets.  

And this was proven by the fact that he had protected his country using Shield Tickets.  

A tit-for-tat battle of blows and blocks.  

But that was not the end of the war.  

Rather, the wounded pride of the United States sparked great fury.  

President Joel Morris: There will be no negotiations. South Korea will be made to recognize the immense power of America.

The world’s strongest power was gathering.  

The Gerald R. Ford-Class Aircraft Carrier appeared off the East Coast.  

The most powerful national force, the aircraft carrier, had appeared within South Korean territorial waters.  

Starting with the Gerald R. Ford-Class—the most formidable aircraft carrier in existence—along with Nimitz-class carriers, the world’s ultimate firepower capable of decimating a nation began to assemble.  

Such was the nature of world affairs.  

When a strong power threatens a weaker nation, attempts will be made to restrain it.  

But Russia, China, Japan, and even Europe remained silent.  

In fact, rather—  

“Chairman Zhang Zhao of China: South Korea has been arrogant. Small nations must only engage in matters they can handle.”  

“South Korea is the axis of evil. We mourn the victims in New York from this incident.”  

“Naoki Sato, Acting Prime Minister of Japan.”  

“Vlad Yakoblev, President of Russia: This is not a logic of power but a just revenge.”  

Supportive sentiments prevailed.  

This was inevitable given the target was the enraged United States.  

The indisputable global leader.  

All eyes were on them, and moreover, the target of this judgment was the rising rookie, South Korea.  

As demonstrated in the weekly rankings, if the United States crushed this terrifying newcomer early, their position among the four great powers would only solidify further.  

Therefore, the other powers watched cautiously, or rather, seemed to encourage the two sides.  

Unthinkable as it may seem, if South Korea, like Japan, could inflict even a slight blow or small scratch on the United States, it might become the chance to catch up with America, currently dominant among the four powers.  

International politics desired the judgment of South Korea.  

And the United States, responding to this provocation, gathered military strength, ready to reduce the Korean Peninsula to ashes at any moment.  

Yet, after assembling their forces, no further moves were made.  

Inevitably so.  

‘They must be wary of my Shield—specifically, the Tickets.’  

Two reinforced Shield Tickets, capable of defending against two attacks, had already been used.  

Who knew what other Tickets might be deployed?  

There was no choice but to hold back from an active offensive like before.  

And that was exactly what I had aimed for.  

Shield Tickets were also rare national defense resources that even I possessed only a few of.  

Nonetheless, I had consumed five to create a reinforced ticket (after two failed attempts).  

This was to instill the awareness that if they attacked carelessly, they could be the ones to suffer retaliation.  

The plan worked perfectly, and despite overwhelming power disparities, they dared not attack recklessly.  

But it was merely a bluff.  

“The Tickets are nearly depleted.”  

Almost all the Tickets obtained from conquering the 29th floor had been used.  

Naturally so.  

Tickets were inherently rare, and I had even reinforced them as a precaution.  

Almost all national offensive and defensive Tickets were gone, with only a few minor Tickets remaining.  

But with the American threat looming at the doorstep, the course of action was clear.  

Step by step, I walked toward the tower’s pitch-black entrance.  

[Very Hard Difficulty selected.]  

[The 30th Floor Trial of Very Hard Difficulty begins now.]  

Having cleared the 29th floor last time, the 30th awaited.  

“Tsutsutsu!”  

The surroundings, once as dark as the primordial universe, began to shift.  

Flash!  

Light burst forth from the center like a flare, engulfing the entire hall.  

And after a moment—  

“Bustling.”  

Sounds of life echoed from the previously silent place.  

I opened my eyes and scanned the surroundings.  

The first thing to catch my eye was a splendid chandelier reflecting the light.  

In a spacious hall, presumably a mansion, people dressed in formal clothes and gowns gathered in small groups, chatting.  

‘Where is this…?’  

A faint fragment of a forgotten memory resurfaced.  

‘The Malice family.’  

It was the mansion of the Malice family, a famed swordsmanship clan of the Asran Kingdom to which I once belonged.  

But doubts quickly followed.  

[This is a memory of the Forgotten Knight.]  

A system message rang in my ears.  

[You are one of the servants of the Malice family, the swordsmanship masters of the Asran Kingdom.]  

[But your status is far from favorable. You were taken in by a bastard Knight of the family and are despised and looked down upon by the clan.]  

[Thus, this social gathering of the Malice family is expected to unfold into a troublesome incident.]  

[A festival for some, a death trap for you. Your goal is simple: survive this death trap by any means necessary.]  

[May the Blessing of Survival be with the servant in danger.]  

This was certain.  

This was my past.  

The time I was taken in as a servant by Malice Bastide.  

The days when I abandoned the name Dino and lived as Malice Paladino.  

I glanced to the side.  

A man with a sword-shaped scar etched across his face, like a worm.  

He kept his head bowed throughout, hiding a sharp, sword-like aura.  

And—  

“Bow.” He glanced at me and uttered coldly.  

The fact that he dared not meet anyone’s eyes now spoke volumes about his standing in the family.  

It was inevitable.  

Though a son of the family head, Malice Greg, he was nothing more than a bastard born of lust with a maidservant.  

All nobles on the continent treated bastards poorly, but the Malice family’s disdain was especially cruel.  

They hardly regarded them as human.  

Filthy blood.  

A mongrel.  

Those blessed with life were forced to grow up amid endless contempt and scorn from birth.  

And that fate extended to me, who had become his servant.  

I lowered my head like in the past.  

Like a sinner burdened with guilt, I dropped my gaze and identified movements only by sound.  

“…Interesting.”  

The situation unfolding was fascinating.  

A trial that recreated a fragment of my memories.  

This wasn’t the first time I’d felt this.  

Every trial I had faced—Goblin Den, Lizardman tribe—were all connected to me.  

But the extermination of monsters was something others had experienced as well.  

I had tried not to dwell on the connection, but now it was clear.  

This, and all the trials I had endured, were recreations of my past.  

But why?  

I had no way of knowing the tower’s purpose or intention for using my past as a trial.  

All I could do was think—  

‘When I reach the top, or at least the upper floors, I’ll learn the truth.’  

So I set aside the unsolvable questions for now.  

One thing demanded my full attention.  

The 30th floor trial, an intricate challenge that wouldn’t be cleared by just bowing my head.  

“Hey—”  A voice full of laughter, but somehow unpleasant, echoed.  

“Don’t respond.” Malice Bastide ordered me to keep my head down.  

“Look here, friends.”  

The face was hidden.  

An approaching figure clad in lavish shoes, but no face visible.  

Yet the voice alone was enough to recognize him.  

‘Malice Praman.’  

The current family head Malice Greg’s eldest son.  

He was certain to become the next head, currently still a servant but soon to be officially knighted.  

Of course—  

‘That had ignited Malice Bastide’s jealousy.’  

Malice Bastide was what you’d call a genius.  

He had never received proper swordsmanship training.  

Yet no one in the family, not even Malice Praman who had mastered the family’s vision, could stand against him.  

But the Malice family’s Knight appointment would go to Malice Praman.  

That was expected, but at that moment, Malice Bastide’s jealousy exploded.  

How relentless can a vengeful person become?  

Driven by that grudge, the Malice family met its demise.  

Of course, I was the one who took the blame for it all.  

My thoughts wandered for a moment.  

“…That guy is the one I spoke of.”  

A mocking voice pulled me back to reality.  

“Ah! That mongrel?”  

“A lowly bastard trying to soil the family.”  

“Look at how he can’t even meet anyone’s eyes.”  

Laughter and jeers filled the air.  

No surprise.  

All of this was orchestrated by Malice Praman.  

He despised Malice Bastide more than anyone in the family.

Or rather—  

‘A commoner jealous of a genius.’  

Praman’s talent was average.  

Compared to the family’s legendary heads throughout history, it was just enough to be knighted.  

Not enough to be assigned a high rank.  

But Malice Bastide was different.  

Though never formally trained, he was a genius capable of defeating all his peers in the family.  

At first, Malice Praman pitied the bastard Bastide.  

He often spoke to him and showed interest in his youth, but was soon blinded by his overwhelming talent.  

And that jealousy had manifested in a terribly ugly way.   

Champagne, scented with fruit, drenched Malice Bastide’s hair.  

“Here, a gift from the master. Drink as much as you want.”  

The sticky champagne soaked his head.  

Yet Malice Bastide said nothing.  

He accepted it as if he deserved punishment, as if it was just an everyday occurrence.  

“You idiot.”  

Spitting with disdain at Bastide’s lack of reaction.  

“Thwack!”  

Sticky saliva decorated the floor.  

The one alternating his gaze between it and me smiled, clearly pleased with his own idea.  

“You.”  

He pointed at me.  

“The hall’s dirty now, so you’d better clean it with your tongue.”  

Only then did I recall why I had tried to forget this memory.  

He used me to humiliate Malice Bastide.  

All the torment so far was meant to provoke any reaction from Bastide (or to justify his expulsion).  

I think that moment was the exact beginning.  

Malice Bastide nodded faintly as he looked at me.  

Right.  

I chose humiliation to survive.  

I had overcome the crisis by licking up the saliva Malice Praman spat.  

But—  

“Thank you.”  

I still didn’t understand why the tower gave me such a trial.  

That remains true even now.  

But when faced with the situation, I can’t help but be grateful.    

I raised my bowed head.  

Only then could I see the faces clearly, not the floor.  

“You…”  

He frowned at me daring to raise my head.  

The one boasting the Malice family’s trademark dark gray hair was Malice Praman.  

The fool who would soon become family head and lead the clan to ruin.  

And now—  

“Shick!”  

A flash of a sword’s gleam rose.  

“Uh…?”  

A thin line of blood traced his neck.  

“Ssslik, thud!”  

His slanted, severed head rolled onto the ground.  

“W-What?!”  

“What did you do?!”  

Those staring at the beheaded corpse screamed in horror.  

Survival method?  

Simple.  

Kill everyone here, and you will naturally survive.