Sejong.
The conference room on the upper floor of the Player Management Office.
“Am… America is sending brokers?”
The faces of everyone in the room grew grim.
“Are they planning to hire him as a mercenary?”
“Most likely.”
America.
A nation consistently at the forefront of cutting-edge technology and leadership.
They had their eyes on Junseok.
From combat doctrines to player-related laws, including research on players and the Magic Tower.
Naturally, their advancements extended to matters concerning the Magic Towers of other major nations.
The intelligence network of the American agency was fully mobilized.
“They could probably tell you how many forks are in the homes of top rankers in every country.”
Their confidence was on that level.
Even if it was half in jest, their confidence was on that level.
There was no way they wouldn’t know that the first-floor record of Suseo Magic Tower in Korea had been updated.
“Are the American brokers being dispatched because of the Chicago Magic Tower?”
“Most likely. Clearing the second floor in two seconds? No S-rank or raid team could achieve that record.”
…
“What? Two seconds?”
“Just like the first floor.”
The high-ranking officials, hearing for the first time that the second floor was cleared in two seconds, were shocked.
“Yes.”
“What could possibly clear it in two seconds?”
Those summoned to the emergency meeting of the Player Management Office were familiar with the layout of the second floor.
No.
Even on YouTube, there were plenty of videos uploaded by players showing the second floor.
Although they were quickly auto-censored and deleted, the mosaic-covered scenery was still widely seen.
The structure of the second floor was simple.
A barren wasteland.
Thirty zombies positioned far in the distance.
The condition to clear the second floor was to defeat them all within a 30-minute time limit.
The distance between the starting point and the zombie horde was exactly 783 meters.
Even if the zombies ran at full speed, it would take at least two minutes for them to close the distance.
Even if both sides sprinted and met in the middle, it would still take a minute to encounter each other.
More importantly, even a long-range attack required time to reach its target.
If a spell traveled nearly 800 meters, it would take at least two seconds, no matter how fast.
Moreover, killing the scattered zombies with magic in just two seconds was no easy feat.
Someone nodded knowingly and spoke with gravitas.
“This must mean we’ve got a solid hint.”
“Junseok’s ability must be an ultra-high-level long-range attack skill. Something instantaneous, triggered the moment he sees his target.”
“Vice Minister, do you think we haven’t cleared it in two seconds because there’s no instantaneous S-rank skill?”
At the words of a high-ranking official who was a former player, everyone quietly turned their attention to the printed documents.
As if ignoring the comment, the briefing continued calmly.
The briefing, however, veered into speculation.
“Another hypothesis that has been raised is… he awakened a skill that manipulates the system…”
None of the theories seemed to hit the mark.
“Enough. Let’s get back to the American brokers. It’s obvious, isn’t it? They want to take Junseok. That’s their goal, right?”
“Most likely.”
“Isn’t that a violation of international agreements on players?”
At the question from one of the high-ranking officials, the head of the Player Management Office smirked and replied.
“When have the superpowers ever cared about that?”
“They say a city next to Chicago’s airport will disappear in 120 days… They’re probably desperate to find him.”
Eastern Illinois, USA.
A Magic Tower had appeared in a city called Norridge, near Chicago.
By chance, the predicted damage radius included Chicago’s airport.
In about 120 days, a city and an airport were set to vanish from the map.
Naturally, America wanted to conquer the Magic Tower before that happened.
But they were struggling on the 54th floor, blocked by the 55th-floor wall.
Even so, they were still clearing one floor every two to three days.
But it was clear that progress would slow as they reached the higher floors.
Now that they had officially sent players to the mid-level floors, they would start grinding through players to break into the upper levels.
“According to our sources, the elevator in the Chicago Magic Tower has been built up to the 42nd floor.”
“Up to the 42nd floor…”
The might of the superpower was evident.
The elevator.
Simply put, it was a bus.
A specialized team to preserve the strength of players capable of operating on the upper floors.
Magic Towers worldwide had a limit of one entry per day.
The fact that the elevator reached the 42nd floor meant that even an F-rank player, if they wanted, could reach the 43rd floor in just 42 days.
This was because losing a key player to injury while climbing the mid-level floors would be a significant loss.
Not only in America but in every country, whenever a Magic Tower appeared in a major city, a dedicated team was immediately formed.
“How about Korea?”
“Suseo Magic Tower’s elevator is prepared up to the 24th floor.”
“Hah, slacking off, are we?”
“Hey! Watch your words! It’s only possible because it’s America! 24 floors is impressive!”
“Impressive? They probably outsourced up to the 14th floor. So they only cleared 10 floors themselves, right?”
“Now, now, let’s save the bickering for later. We’re here to discuss Junseok.”
“Exactly. Everyone’s tired, but…”
A situation like this calls for focus.
In truth, America’s aggressive Magic Tower conquests came at the expense of exploiting players from other countries.
They lured A-rank and S-rank players from around the world with overwhelming conditions and benefits.
International law prohibited nations from directly recruiting players, but that was only “officially” speaking.
It was commonplace to approach players indirectly through brokers.
Especially for someone like Junseok, who hadn’t yet registered as a player, he was an even better target.
“He immigrated to America, and that’s when he awakened. There’s no registration record, right?”
It was an easy excuse to justify their actions.
“Ban all F-ranks from leaving the country temporarily.”
“Understood.”
“Also, ban unregistered newly awakened players from leaving.”
“Yes!”
“For S-rank and A-rank, follow the existing special permit procedures.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“At the same time, with the cooperation of the five major guilds, we’ve discussed conducting player appraisals on the streets.”
“Proceed with it.”
The Minister of Defense immediately responded.
“Won’t there be public backlash?”
“National security comes first. An appraisal just means stopping for a moment and making eye contact, right?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“They should cooperate with that much. We can also catch brokers in the process.”
“Understood.”
“Mobilize the Capital Defense Command’s forces as well. They wouldn’t send foreigners as brokers without thinking.”
The Minister of Defense’s words carried weight.
“Yes. They’ve likely already used local informants who entered Korea as players.”
“If you find them, root them out. It’s a violation of the National Security Act.”
“Yes, sir!”
The Minister of Defense softened his tone and continued.
“Continue the report on Junseok. Why did he exceed our predictions from earlier today? You must have analyzed it.”
“To put it simply, this guy… he’s playing a strategic game. And… it’s no ordinary game.”
“Why’s that?”
“He knows it’s dangerous if his identity is exposed. At the same time, he won’t easily reveal himself.”
“Explain in more detail.”
“If it were one of the five major guilds, what would they do with this supernova?”
They’d try to kill him.
But no one in the room voiced that thought.
“What about the possibility that a ranker from one of the five major guilds did this as a prank?”
“None.”
“Why not?”
This was a repeat of the discussion from earlier in the day.
The question came from the Chief Secretary of the Presidential Office, who hadn’t been present at the earlier meeting and was attending the evening session for the first time.
Everyone listened quietly.
“There are two reasons. First, to be marked as F-rank, one would need a skill to manipulate the system, but no such player exists. Second, there’s no reason for it.”
As the Chief Secretary nodded, the explanation continued.
“From a top ranker’s perspective, there’s no reason to waste a valuable entry ticket just to set a record on the second floor. That’s why the second floor’s record has remained ambiguous.”
That was true.
Clearing the second floor in two seconds?
Many rankers could probably do it.
But there was no reason to.
The reward wasn’t particularly special, just a name on the Tower’s Hall of Fame.
For a top ranker, setting a new record on the second floor wouldn’t bring much prestige.
It’d just be, “Oh, that’s fast,” and that’s it.
“In other words, Junseok is indeed a newly awakened player. And he’s deliberately letting us know that he’s as strong as, or stronger than, a ranker.”
“What does he gain from that?”
“Two things. First, he’s signaling that he doesn’t trust the government or the guilds.”
“A signal? Why? When overwhelming support and benefits are guaranteed?”
“For half a day, there were advertisements looking for Junseok. But they were all fakes.”
Indeed.
An unprecedented announcement to find an F-rank player.
Hundreds of F-rank players across the country claimed to be the F-rank in question.
Of course, not a single one of them was real.
“Is he trying to spark a competition between America, China, Japan, or Korea?”
“There’s likely some intent to do that. He probably doesn’t want to be seen as an easy catch.”
“Hah, what… Is he playing hard-to-get with the nation?”
“It’s clear he’s trying to establish himself as someone too big to be tied down by the government or guilds.”
Back during the day, at his lowest point, he decided he wouldn’t belong to anyone?
At the same time, he knows it’s dangerous if his identity is exposed.
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
“Junseok… He’s no ordinary guy.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“In other words, he won’t show himself until he’s ready to display a certain level of performance.”
“We’re already paying attention to him.”
“Are you going to assign 500 special forces to protect him?”
“Well… no. That’s the level of protection we gave to the Sword God, Yoo Junhyuk. Not even the President gets that.”
“Exactly.”
“What?”
“There’s a chance he won’t reveal himself until he’s recognized as more important than the President. It’s just a hypothesis, though.”
Sighs echoed around the room.
“Are the five major guilds completely under government control? Can we ensure that if any harm comes to Choi Junseok, they’ll face consequences—not just warnings, but actual execution?”
“Isn’t that a bit too much self-consciousness?”
“He’s proven he’s worth that level of confidence.”
“Just for clearing the first and second floors?! Hah! My dog Bbi Bbi could clear the second floor! He’s a big dog, very ferocious—”
“Would America think the same way?”
“Ahem!”
The Minister of Defense, the ultimate decision-maker for the Player Management Office, nodded as if he’d made up his mind.
“Exactly. We can’t let America steal him. Do whatever it takes to block their approach. Mobilize the entire counterintelligence division of the National Intelligence Service!”
The atmosphere suddenly turned to reprimanding the head of the NIS’s Security Division 3, who was present.
But he, too, understood the gravity of the situation and merely nodded.
“That much is certain.”
“…?”
“This person is the key to preventing the end of the southeastern Capital area.”
Choi Junseok spent two days clearing the third and fourth floors.
Of course, he didn’t set any new records.
He proceeded quietly, as if in hiding.
Naturally, he didn’t update any records, either.
“Thankfully, Nayeon comes out when there’s an enemy in front of me.”
Not a single word was spoken.
Without a sword, she tore monsters apart with her bare hands, splitting them in half before vanishing silently.
As if she was merely doing what was expected.
She didn’t even hear a “Good job.”
When Junseok started to say, “Good job…”
She had already scattered into light and disappeared.
As for Junseok, there was no need to take the risk of summoning the holy sword, which could endanger his life.
More importantly, his level wasn’t rising.
Swinging his fist to smash an orc’s head, and when Nayeon grabbed a lizardman’s shoulders and ripped it in half.
Junseok’s level steadily increased.
When he threw the holy sword, his level didn’t rise, likely because it was judged as throwing an item outside the inventory.
[Level: LV. 5]
[Basic abilities increase with the level-up.]
Yesterday and today, he diligently collected miscellaneous items to fill his inventory.
Lizardman thighs and tails.
Parts in demand among gourmets.
They were said to have a pungent yet tender flavor.
An ordinary porter would carry them in a large bag or sack.
But as an Inventory Master, Junseok carried items in a bag with twice the internal space, as well as the Sword God’s small leather bag, stuffed to the brim.
However, as always, when he told his mother he’d been to the Magic Tower, Junseok got a smack on the back.
“So, what’d you earn?”
“Ugh.”
The moment his mother’s palm shot up into the air.
“Ack! It’s expensive! Expensive stuff! I’ll buy dinner on the way back.”
“Anyone would think I’m some evil stepmother! When did I ever tell you to make money dangerously? I said to do it steadily.”
Junhee slowly lowered her raised hand.
She let out a sigh.
A lottery, they said.
Some lottery.
It was just a player awakening.
Junhee knew the life of a player.
Her husband, Junseok’s father, had been a C-rank player.
So she knew better than anyone what a player’s life was like.
She had watched her beloved descend into madness, so she knew it all too well.
The nightmares, the PTSD that made him jolt awake at night.
“If you’re going to do it, join a team or a company and do it steadily. I looked it up, and there are teams run by the government.”
A government-affiliated player guild.
Isn’t it all the same?
“You know the guild Dad worked for was part of a national project, right?”
Seeing his mother suddenly look deeply saddened, Junseok grabbed his cap, mask, and hoodie, hurriedly putting on his shoes.
“Anyway! I’m doing it safely, so don’t worry! I’m off to Garak Market to sell some stuff.”
Coincidentally, even before the Magic Tower rose near Garak Market, it had been used as a player market.
The items handled ranged from monster parts and items from the Magic Tower to mercenary and team recruitment.
It was a hub for player-related industries.
Which also meant it doubled as a black market.
As an Inventory Master who smuggled monster parts or magic stones for extra cash, Junseok was well-versed in Garak Market’s black market.
“Ugh… I can’t exactly tell them I’m the F-rank player the world is so desperate to find.”
It was frustrating.
To deceive the enemy, you must first deceive your allies.
“Luckily, I’ve got enough for taxi fare.”
Their home in Incheon had been forcibly relocated when the Magic Tower appeared, as the ground was deemed unstable.
Compensation?
There was none.
When they were forced out of the small house his parents had saved their whole lives to buy.
With unpaid housing loans, vague government promises of relocation to a new city, and only a converted container as a temporary shelter.
The disaster victims’ temporary housing wasn’t far from Garak Market.
As Junseok stepped out to catch a taxi, a black van slowly approached and stopped in front of him.
It was clearly not a taxi.
The passenger window of the heavily tinted van slid down with a whir.
“Choi Junseok?”
At the question from a woman wearing sunglasses, Junseok tilted his head, feigning ignorance as he looked at the van.
The woman took off her sunglasses and gave a gentle smile.
“No need to pretend. Get in. You’re going to Garak Market, right?”
When she mentioned his destination, Junseok realized he had no other choice.