Floor 29: The Deck Stained with Betrayal (1)

"Kkiik! Suyeok! You're back!"

No sooner had I stepped into the Waiting Room than Dobby came bursting out of the training room door.

Sweat was running in rivulets down his bald head — he'd clearly been training hard.

"What's this, Dobby? You trained by yourself?"

"Kkiik! That's right! I was bored, so I trained!"

"Whoa, look at you."

I'd honestly expected to find him sprawled on the bed... A fresh swell of pride rose in my chest, and I rubbed Dobby's bald scalp. Sweat slicked between my fingers, but I didn't much care.

"Go wash up. Then we'll grab something to eat together."

"Kkiik! Yes! Steak!"

Between all the splashing around and the diving, I was hungry anyway, so the timing worked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out. Dobby beamed and shuffled off to the bathroom.

Nothing much had happened on Floor 28, so I didn't bother opening my status window. Instead, I sent a message to Ha Heijeong. I was curious about the staff that had come out of the treasure chest.

It didn't show much through text, but I could tell Ha Heijeong was in a genuinely good mood. An old friend's instinct, honed over years.

All this time, she'd been pouring her attention into looking after me, running a lower-grade staff well beneath her actual skill. So she'd finally gotten a weapon worthy of her at last.

A smile crept onto my own lips without my permission.

The Floor 28 trial had been short, so the rest period in the Waiting Room had been correspondingly stingy. In that squeezed window of time I managed two combat training sessions, but unfortunately the level of my Illusion Resistance skill refused to budge.

I'd hoped to push it to level 4 or so... but I was starting to suspect that fighting gremlins and fairies in training had a hard cap at level 3.

Shaking the water from my hair, I flopped onto the bed. Sleep wasn't coming, so I figured I'd skim the community boards for a bit.

Nearly every post scrolling past was about the Floor 28 trial. A few seconds of skimming was enough to tell this hadn't been a normal floor at all. The overwhelming majority of climbers had pulled something nasty from those chests. Eighty percent landmines...

At this point it wasn't treasure hunting so much as mine-sweeping.

So it was one of those trap floors.

Layered with sheer luck, the kind of trial no amount of skill could dodge. Then again, Heijeong had said we drew penalties there in the first timeline too.

Now I understood why she'd half-smiled back on Floor 27 — and at the same time, I felt a wave of relief. One misstep, and all the stats we'd sweated to build could have come crumbling down.

Still, considering they'd watched their stats drop right before their eyes, everyone seemed calmer than I'd expected. Hmm... or were they?

Scrolling further back through the boards, I realized they weren't. It was only now, a few hours later, that things had settled — two hours ago, the community had been a madhouse drowning in curses.

I hurriedly scrolled back up.

So there were people who'd felt the same way I did. Though maybe that guy had a point — it might only have felt good because we'd pulled something decent.

But after nothing but trials where your life hung in the balance, seeing the open sea really was something. Remembering splashing around with Ha Heijeong, I closed the community.

As ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠always, today's forum had produced little of actual value. With so many climbers, everyone talked through posts rather than comments, and the endless scrolling could get dizzying.

What'll Floor 29 be like?

A personal floor, with a rest area waiting just beyond it. There was no telling whether I alone would receive a different trial than everyone else.

Heijeong had told me what to expect from Floor 29... but this was a floor where knowing changed nothing.

If I do get a solo trial, I hope it's one that needs luck.

Because Floor 28 had ended faster than expected, the fairy's blessing still lingered. Roughly ten hours left on it, maybe?

It felt like a waste for such extraordinary fortune to amount to nothing more than opening a single treasure chest. Well... we'd see. It wasn't like wishing would change anything anyway.

Speaking of which, Floor 29 is the one Dobby comes along for, right?

Two floors in a row apart from Dobby would have been unusual. There were barely any floors he hadn't joined me on at all. Cooped up in the Waiting Room all the time, he even seemed a little restless.

Going by what Heijeong had said, though, it sounded like he'd be moving with me this time.

Let's get whatever rest we can.

About an hour remained. Sleep wouldn't come, but I figured I'd at least close my eyes. I pulled Dobby's kicked-off blanket up over him, then shut mine.

From the bow of the ship, under the beating sun, I could see the gentle swells of the sea stretching to the horizon. I breathed in, and the scent of salt water seeped into my nose.

"Kkiik! The ocean!"

Dobby's cry of wonder burst out beside me. Thankfully, he'd been brought into Floor 29 with me after all.

I read through the message slowly. The Deck Stained with Betrayal — the trial Heijeong had described. So this floor, at least, hadn't singled me out with something different.

But problems remained.

Knowing the trial's content wasn't much use.

There were ten crew members aboard besides Dobby and me. And the murderer wasn't fixed — it was assigned at random for each climber.

In other words, there was no way to know who the killer was.

Now would be a great time for that extraordinary luck to kick in.

On this floor, the reward scaled with how many crew members survived. According to Heijeong, save every last one of them and you might walk away with something on par with a Unique-grade reward. She'd mentioned a climber who'd guessed the murderer on a whim and boasted about it endlessly afterward.

With my luck right now, it was worth hoping for, at least once.

Though ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the problem is the penalty for naming the wrong man...

If faulty deduction got a crew member killed, the reward deduction was steeper than letting the murderer strike again. Hmm. I'd have to get a read on the crew first.

Like on Floor 28, luck might stir my intuition or instincts if I just... looked.

"S-Sir Knight! Letri is dead!"

The shout from the stern shattered my reverie. An old sailor was sprinting toward us, gasping for breath.

"What?"

"Letri's dead?"

Crew scattered across the deck rushed toward the stern. Right on schedule, this was the moment the second murder had occurred — or so Heijeong had said.

Which made it the perfect chance to study every member of the crew.

"Dobby, with me."

"Kkiik! Yes!"

I hurried after the sailor, Dobby at my heels.

Ten crew members had gathered around the body, lying face-down where it had fallen. The mood had sunk bone-deep, and the sailors spat their curses into it.

"Damn it all, what in the world is going on?"

"Goddammit, which son of a bitch did this."

They huddled close together, yet the mutual discomfort between them was plain to see. A string of unexplained murders — suspicion of one's own crewmates was only natural.

As I drew near, one of the sailors bowed his head.

"Sir Knight. You've come."

"...Yes. A sailor's been killed?"

"So it seems, sir. The second one already. Why does this keep happening..."

The man's voice trailed off. Wondering if I might find some clue myself, I stepped closer to the body. Someone was already examining it — judging by his clothes, the ship's captain.

"May I take a look?"

"Ah... the Knight, is it. Of course. Better than the eyes of the likes of us, I'd wager."

"Thank you."

The captain stepped back a pace and cleared the way. I turned my gaze to the body.

The man lay face-down, dead. From the way his clothing had been torn, he'd been stabbed through the heart from behind. His eyes, wide with shock, stared blankly into empty air.

I studied him for a while, but nothing about the scene struck me as unusual. Then I remembered a crime drama I used to watch back on Earth.

Could there be signs of struggle?

Those shows always checked the victim's fingernails for resistance — forensic work built on the flesh caught beneath them. We had no way to run DNA tests here, but if there were traces of a struggle, the killer might be carrying marks somewhere on his body.

Carefully, I lifted the corpse's hand. Grime was caked under the nails, but no sign of resistance. I closed the dead man's eyes for him, then rose to my feet.

"Did you find something, sir?"

"No. All I could tell is that he died in a single strike. That's not the handiwork of an amateur."

"Damn it!"

The captain spat a curse. After a moment's deliberation, he wheeled on one of the sailors.

"Boln. You're the one who found the body, are you not?"

"That's right, Captain."

"You found Arc's body as well."

"...Yes."

Every eye on deck swung toward Boln. Under that brimming suspicion, his face flushed red.

I seized the opening to sweep my gaze quickly over the crew gathered around us — on the off chance someone set off a feeling I couldn't name.

But whether the extraordinary luck simply wasn't active, nothing came to me.

Smashing through the brief silence, Boln cried out in protest.

"It wasn't me! Both times, I only went where the navigator ordered me!"

"You moved on Renek's orders?"

"Yes! He told me to check the rigging ropes. With Arc, he said to look for signs of flooding!"

The captain turned his head toward the navigator. The crew's gazes followed his.

"Captain, are you seriously suspecting me right now?"

"Or are you just pinning it on Boln to throw off suspicion? Once is chance, but twice is starting to look deliberate."

Exasperated, the navigator heaved a rough sigh.

"How can you doubt me after five years at sea together? I don't know the first thing about combat!"

The captain fell into a grim silence.

"And honestly, isn't the most suspicious one here that knight? An outsider, and a knight besides — best fighter on this ship by far. Dragging around that strange goblin, too. I'll say it plainly: I suspect him."

It wasn't as if they were meerkats, but ten pairs of eyes swung back to me, all of them brimming with wariness.

Hm... this isn't how it's supposed to go.