The Weight of a Single Point

When you thought about it, it was only natural.

A golem was an artificial life-form powered by an arcane core. That meant someone had engineered it. Someone had forged it with deliberate intent.

The only reason no one ever bothered pondering that obvious truth was painfully simple.

“Gwooooh…”

Around here, they were nothing more than rubble and walking debris. A casual glance across the craggy terrain revealed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠well over a hundred of the rocky heaps lumbering about. All an Awakener had to do was pace their stamina and mana, pick them off one by one, collect the required quota of cores, and clear the floor. Who made them? Why were they made? In the middle of an expedition, nobody had the luxury or the curiosity to care.

“Phew. Alright, that’s three.”

With the Cheetah Boots (B) and the Power Enhancement Gloves (C) boosting his speed and striking force, Mu-saeng’s combined stat total surpassed that of climbers on the 30th floor. Clearing a low-level stage like this took him mere minutes.

[Just head over this ridge. On the other side, you’ll find a house—]

“Yeah, I know. A small cottage complete with a kitchen and cooking gear, right? And that’s where the Guardian appears?”

[—The Guardian only reacts once you approach that house having already gathered at least fifty percent of the cores demanded by the standard clear condition. Above all else, it’s an authentic Tower interaction. A hollow replica like a dungeon could never trigger it.]

“Mm… makes sense.”

Objects reacted differently inside the Tower compared to dungeons outside. He had already confirmed as much back on the 3rd floor when he pried open the hidden chest. It stood to reason that this hidden clear condition could only be met here.

“Maia… When Vietnam’s One Way branch sent a thirty-five-man raid against her, thirteen died. Thailand’s branch threw thirty people at her and lost eight. A terrifying 55th-floor boss.”

Mu-saeng muttered under his breath as he stowed three glowing golem cores into his pack. While the intelligence dossier he had extorted from Jang Hagook focused primarily on the 58th floor, he had scrutinized every floor along the way. To reach the 58th, he had to conquer everything beneath it first. Naturally, he hadn't overlooked the 55th.

Sorcerer Maia—popularly known as ‘Mama.’ A master not only of elemental magic, but also of magitech engineering. If Southeast Asia’s One Way branches had suffered horrific casualties against her, it was safe to assume South Korea’s Geumseong Guild and countless others had tasted bitter defeat at her hands as well.

[Hmph! It’s not as if the sorcerer herself is standing there in the flesh, so quit whining.]

“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one taking the hits. The files specifically noted that One Way took most of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their casualties from the Guardians surrounding Mama, not just her spells.”

Mu-saeng remembered their visual profile clearly: a smooth, blank face resembling an egg ghost, devoid of eyes, nose, or mouth, paired with a silver-gray chassis that moved like an articulated ball-jointed doll. Faceless, voiceless constructs charging in at lightning speed to slaughter their targets. Imagining that kind of onslaught was enough to make any climber break out in cold sweat.

[They only suffered because they were primitive, bumbling fools.]

Wahsh snorted derisively through his tiny nostrils. Even though tension still lingered in the air, his utter condescension oddly gave Mu-saeng a strange sense of reassurance.

“Heh… So that means our brilliant, magnificent Administrator Wahsh has a foolproof strategy to crack the Guardian? Once we summon it, what's the plan?”

Summon the Guardian, and then what? Wahsh was bound to have an exploit or an administrative secret up his sleeve. Mu-saeng looked at the floating duck with expectant eyes.

[What do you mean, what's the plan? You kill it, obviously.]

“…Wait, what?”

Wahsh answered as if stating the weather. Kill it? A Guardian belonging to Sorcerer Maia—the very construct that had butchered veteran high-floor Awakeners capable of clearing the 55th floor?

[To be precise, you force it to cease functioning. Like a stone golem, it’s an artificial construct. Naturally, locating and smashing its power core is the cleanest method.]

Wahsh tacked on the explanation generously, as though granting a great favor. But functionally, it was the exact same thing as telling him to kill it.

“Ah…”

Poison wouldn't work on machinery. What else did he have? Monster repellent was utterly useless against a magitech automaton. Running away wasn't an option either if he wanted the hidden clear.

Kill it? A Guardian? Me?

Mu-saeng shook his head. His only active combat skill was the passive Steel Bone. No matter what combination of consumable sherpa gear he threw together, nothing in his pack was designed to bring down an elite mechanical sentinel.

“Ah.”

The exact same syllable left his lips, but the cadence was entirely different from his earlier despair.

Mu-saeng came to a sudden halt on the rocky path.

“Wahsh. Does this hidden objective have a time limit?”

[None.]

“In that case… alright. I’m going to do everything I can first.”

Instead of continuing up the rocky mountain path toward the cottage, Mu-saeng pivoted on his heel. He turned back toward the scattered mounds of stone golems dotting the craggy valley.

[*Squawk?!* What are you doing? Snag two more cores and you’ll clear the—]

“I just won't pick them up. To be safe, I'll drop these three cores right here on the ground before I start.”

[—What?!]

Wahsh tilted his yellow head in bewilderment, but Mu-saeng’s actions only deepened the mystery. Why turn back when he had no intention of collecting cores?

Rumble, rumble…!

“GRRRR-OOOOH!”

Why intentionally rouse the dormant stone golems?

Mu-saeng clenched and unclenched his fists, regulating his breath. There were still over twenty-three hours left on the floor’s general timer.

“This place isn't a dungeon.”

Dungeons were mere training grounds. Slaying monsters inside them rarely yielded anything of lasting value, since artifacts and elixirs were dropped almost exclusively by high-floor boss monsters. Dungeons never rewarded permanent stat gains for routine combat.

Whoosh!

A massive stone fist punched through the air. Mu-saeng slipped under it with a clean sidestep, channeled power into his thighs, and surged forward.

This wasn't a dungeon. This was the real Mythic Tower.

And every Awakener knew the fundamental law.

“Hup!”

BAAAANG───────!

Inside the Tower, an Awakener could grow through pure exertion. Slaying monsters here produced an entirely different outcome than cutting down statless fodder in a simulated dungeon.

Ssssshh…

Pebbles and fine stone dust scattered on the breeze. Moments ago, they had formed the colossal torso of a stone golem. Now, the boulder had been reduced to gravel, the gravel to pebbles, and the pebbles ground into powdery sand.

And the reason?

“Whew… Now I'm finally getting the hang of this.”

It was the direct result of Mu-saeng’s relentless pummeling. The golem's exposed core flickered several times before its inner light abruptly died.

So repetitive actions only award stat increases while the core remains active… That probably applies to all monsters, not just golems.

Several dull, extinguished cores already lay scattered at his feet, surrounded by drifting clouds of pulverized rock. Mu-saeng cast a calculating gaze over the valley.

Testing must be done while the target is alive. Hitting a dead corpse or smashing an inanimate rock a million times won't raise your stats by a single point.

Aside from clearing floors, there was another route to growth in the Tower: stat increases via grueling, repetitive physical strain, or acquiring new skills through unique actions. He had understood the theory for years, but this was his first time testing it in practice. After countless experiments, he had finally cracked the precise rhythm, intensity, and targeting required to coax stats out of the system. However…

The countdown was about to dip below the two-hour mark. He could scoop up five golem cores at any second, but achieving a standard clear was meaningless.

“Time to wrap up, Wahsh.”

[…Are you finally finished?]

“Yeah. Just need to balance things out before we go.”

[Balance what now?!]

“A man’s gotta balance his stats, Teach. Status Window.”

Twenty hours of pure manual labor had yielded undeniable fruit: 2 points in Strength, 2 in Agility, 1 in Stamina, and 3 in Accuracy—an impressive gain of 8 total stat points. The problem, however, was that raw increases weren't entirely beneficial for Mu-saeng.

His stat gap had widened from 5 to 7.

Let your guard down for a second and this happens. No wonder nobody ever chooses this skill… Status Window.

Fortunately, he had prepared for this exact scenario. He still possessed the five unallocated stat points awarded from clearing the 4th floor.

Luck and Mana are sitting at 18, so put 2 into each. Then put 1 into Willpower, which is at 19…

That pushed his highest stat, Strength, to a base of 25, while his lowest stats—Mana, Willpower, and Luck—rose to a base of 20. The gap snapped right back to 5.

With Steel Bone restored to its full double-multiplier effect, his effective stats surged back into monstrous territory.

Mu-saeng stretched his neck with a satisfied grunt, then glanced at the floating duck. “Hey, Wahsh. Is there really no manual grind for Willpower and Luck? Mana I can understand, but…”

[…How should I know how to raise stats through such barbaric, primitive labor? Who in their right mind wastes hours of their life just to scrape up a single stat point?]

Having watched the entire grueling process, Wahsh was genuinely dumbfounded. Smashing stone golems was child's play for the current Mu-saeng. But grinding for stat gains was an entirely different beast.

To raise Accuracy, he had repeatedly targeted a single microscopic fissure, striking the exact same millimeter the instant the golem's regenerative stone knit back together—over and over again. To raise Stamina, he hadn't stopped sprinting and dodging for twenty straight hours. And to raise Agility, he had deliberately roused three golems at once, weaving between their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠simultaneous punches with razor-thin margins of error.

“Wastes hours? Man, if I had more time, I’d keep doing it!”

[It’s utterly reckless! One slip and your life would have been forfeit! To risk your neck when the output compared to the input is so miserably inefficient… truly primitive.]

*Kkwaaa-ak!*

Wahsh scoffed with supreme arrogance. But Mu-saeng merely burst into laughter.

“Haha! You really don't get it, Administrator Teach.”

[Get what?]

Perhaps this was the fundamental gap between an immortal system administrator and a mortal climber clawing his way up from the gutter. Mu-saeng grinned.

Why endure an inefficient grind just for a single point?

“When your life is on the line, you don't calculate efficiency. Isn't that right?”

A single point determined life or death. Efficiency? What lunatic worried about return on investment when staring down their own grave?

Behind his black horn-rimmed glasses, Wahsh’s beady black eyes widened. Then, slowly, they crinkled into mischievous crescents.

[…*Kkyakyakyakyat!* Yes, exactly! Well said, Kim Mu-saeng!]

That resolve. That ruthless mindset. It was moments like this that made Wahsh recall their Abyss Contract with immense satisfaction.

“Ahem, obviously. Besides, raising my stats wasn't the only reason I was hitting them. The stuff I've been collecting this whole time—”

[Hurry up, then! I’m about to put my own life on the line here!]

“—Could you let a guy finish his sentence for once?!”

Mu-saeng smirked as he watched the yellow rubber duck flap its tiny wings and glide ahead. The clouds of stone dust that had filled the air were gone, swept clean by the wind. Slipping several small, tightly packed pouches into the outer pockets of his sherpa rucksack, Mu-saeng steadied his resolve.

“Hey! What exactly are you planning to do? At least tell me before you charge off!”

With a kick off the earth, he dashed after Wahsh.

Less than an hour remained before the 5th floor’s trial expired.

Crunch, crunch… Creak.

Mu-saeng pushed open the rotting front door and stepped into the decrepit wooden cottage. It was an ancient structure, so weathered that nearly all signs of human habitation had eroded away. A few tarnished iron pots sat on a counter beside a soot-choked stone fireplace. With proper upkeep, it might have made a cozy mountain cabin. Mu-saeng had stepped inside this exact house several times during his dungeon sherpa days, but…

The Tower was not a dungeon.

[It’s coming, Kim Mu-saeng.]

The moment the four golem cores in his pack resonated and began to emit a soft, pulsing luminescence, the ferocious shrieking of interlocking gears echoed through the floorboards.

SKRRRRRRRRRRT───────!

The mechanical whine escalated to a deafening pitch. With a violent shudder, the worn floorboards split down the center and slid open to the left and right.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

“Phew… steady.”

Mu-saeng steadied his breathing, peering into the dark chasm. From the revealed subterranean chamber, something rose into view.

No, not just something.

One of the elite mechanical sentinels that guarded the domain of the 55th-floor boss, Sorcerer Maia—a Guardian—materialized before his eyes.