The Lie Detector

◆ Floor 40, Waiting Room ◆

I was in the middle of messaging Ha Heijeong when the excitement suddenly drained out of me. My head went cold, and calm, level thinking took its place. It had to be the effect of the Gambler's Composure skill I'd picked up a while back.

Right. They wouldn't have handed this over for nothing.

This was the supreme reward for the trial that spanned five whole floors, from the 35th to the 39th—and not just any reward, but the prize for the neutral faction's victory, something that had come close to impossible. The Tower had never once pulled a fast one when it came to valuing rewards. Which meant the Lie Detector was exactly the reward it deserved to be.

Going by everything I've experienced so far… it probably has something to do with the next personal floor, or the next group floor.

It had been that way with the Dragon Scale Emblem. It had been that way with the Ring of Fresh Wind. It was a perfectly reasonable line of thought—but in my excitement over such a baffling reward, I hadn't gotten that far.

I deleted the message I'd been writing and typed a new one.

Just as I'd thought. Still, the fact that Ha Heijeong had been even slightly startled at first told me something—this wasn't a reward that had appeared in the first timeline.

Ah, right—the elves had won the neutral faction victory in the first timeline. I felt a flicker of curiosity about what would have dropped if humanity's faction had come out on top. A furnace crafting skill, maybe?

Still… the fact that the Lie Detector will be needed on a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠group floor. What on earth is going to come up?

It seemed like something far off in the distance, but given how my personal floors kept tying into the group floors, it might be needed sooner than I thought.

Curiosity niggled at me, but I decided to follow her lead. Meeting face to face was always far better for passing along information than trading messages back and forth.

Just as I was about to close the messenger, Ha Heijeong added one more line.

I answered that way, but hearing her words out of the blue made something froggily mischievous stir inside me. Not that I was actually going to use it.

I turned my gaze to the purple die. So this is the Lie Detector? How does it work…?

The moment I picked it up, the numbers etched into each of its faces shifted. The two opposing ends of the hexagon read 10 and 0, while the remaining four faces each bore the words true and false, two apiece. Presumably the 10 and 0 indicated uses remaining and uses spent.

As I turned the die over in my hand, Dobby looked up from his book and asked in a curious voice, "Suyeok! What that! Like an omok board?"

"No, it's a lie detector."

"Lie detector? So fascinating!"

The instant those words left Dobby's mouth, I understood how the thing was used—the die stirred, reaching hungrily for my mana. If I infused it with mana, I would learn whether Dobby's declaration of "so fascinating" was true or false.

Considering it didn't react at all while I was messaging Ha Heijeong earlier… it probably only activates when you're physically face to face with someone.

I tucked the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lie Detector into my mimic. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd be heading to the Shelter soon, and it would be a nuisance if this thing fired off every time I spoke to another person. Worse, I might accidentally burn a charge.

I turned to Dobby. "Dobby, you've rested plenty, haven't you?"

Catching the meaning packed into my words, Dobby hastily buried his eyes back in his book. "…Not done resting yet!"

"You've done nothing to rest from. Follow me to the training room."

The Masters I'd met in Deleil came to mind. Spear, axe, sword, gun—so many opponents waiting to be fought. As I headed for the training room first, Dobby climbed off the bed looking utterly pitiful.

After nearly three hours of training, Dobby and I sank our bodies into the training hot spring. It had been a while since I'd spent this long in the training room. I'd burned close to 6,000 achievement points on combat training alone, and I didn't regret a single point. If anything, because it had been so long since I'd fought a battle that truly deserved the name, I felt pleasantly wrung out.

What would you call it—a satisfying sense of release? Come to think of it, I'd grasped something during the fighting too. Hadn't my Axe Mastery level gone up by one as well?

Expectant, I opened my status window.

Just as I'd suspected—the level of Axe Mastery, which had plateaued for so long, had climbed by one. I couldn't hide the swell of pride. Unlike the other skills that leveled up the more frequently you used them, Axe Mastery only advanced through genuine understanding, so this was a small moment of recognition for the flashes of insight I'd earned while thinking and moving through real combat.

From leading the neutral faction to victory on the group floor onward, today had been full of good things. Soon enough, I'd be drinking with the others at the Shelter.

Floor 40. At this rate, I'm climbing through pretty smoothly, aren't I?

The moment the thought crossed my mind, a suspicious feeling crept in. Danger comes the instant you let your guard down—it was the oldest cliché in the movies. And yet…

Now that I think about it, the personal floors in the 30s weren't all that grueling.

Being tied into the group floors, they had been floors that worked the brain rather than the body. Sure, we'd hunted down a monster on Floor 34, but even that hadn't been especially hard. So what would the personal floors of the 40s throw at me? On Floor 11, I'd fought in the dark. On Floor 21, I'd gone into a factory. Since I'd caught a breather in the 30s, something was due to come around again soon.

Somehow, I've got a feeling this next personal floor has nothing to do with the group floor.

It was pure conjecture. But my gut told me that was exactly how it would go. The mood had been so good, and suddenly worry began to seep in. It had felt much like this before I entered the factory—I'd had no doubts about my own strength, and then I'd met the factory's Administrator and been blindsided.

Ugh. If that's the case, I really should train a little more.

Once I started thinking, I couldn't stop. I rose from my seat at once. Dobby, dozing under a towel with his eyes shut, jolted in alarm.

"Suyeok! What sudden?"

"I need more training. You too, Dobby. Out."

Dobby stared up at me, his face full of unspoken questions. True, we'd trained longer than usual, but I had no intention of cutting him any slack. We needed to be stronger.

"No!"

"No isn't an option. I'm not letting it slide, and I'm not going to start. Up. Now."

"Is not that! Not because hate training!"

"Then what is it?"

"Thirty minutes not over yet!"

"Ah…"

At Dobby's words, my brain briefly blue-screened. Right—basically, you had to soak in the training hot spring for a full thirty minutes for the effects to kick in. Not even twenty minutes had passed yet.

Head bowed, I lowered myself back into the spring. Dobby watched me with an expression of profound pity, then draped the towel back over his face. There was something I wanted to say, but I couldn't manage it. Fine. I'd just have to show him hell during the next training session. Look forward to it, Dobby.

This was the fourth Shelter already. A soft breeze drifted over the familiar meadow, tickling my cheeks. With me at the front, the other climbers began to materialize one by one.

I scanned my surroundings, searching for my party, and before long spotted Ha Heijeong about seventy meters away. She must have noticed me too, because she waved.

"Oppa Suhyeok! Dobby! Over here!" It was such a treat to hear Seo Harin's bright, cheerful shout after so long. We hadn't even crossed paths on the group floor, so this was the first time seeing the rest of my party since the last Shelter. Well—the party had technically dissolved on Floor 37, but still.

At the call for me and Dobby, I waved the rest of my party over instead.

"Come over here! I've got something to show you!"

"Huh?"

"Suhyeok says come on! Let's go!"

Mister Hosu gave the puzzled Seo Harin a shove with his rough, work-worn hand, and they started toward me. Timing their arrival, I pulled the combat airship out of my mimic.

The moment a massive airship materialized out of nowhere right in front of him, the smiling Mister Hosu froze mid-stride. "Suhyeok, what on earth are you showing us—isn't that an airship?"

And he wasn't the only one. Every climber except Ha Heijeong went wide-eyed.

"Wow, I never imagined you'd have an airship, Suhyeok…"

"Huh? Oppa, how did you even get one of these? I heard nobody could get anywhere near the elves' airships."

"Whoa…"

Watching Seo Harin and Hakin marvel was genuinely adorable, and a smile crept onto my face without my noticing.

"You heard I strong-armed the king and the elf chieftain into brokering a deal, right?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I strong-armed them for the airship too."

At that, Hakin, standing beside me, laid a hand on the airship's hull. "Seriously, that's insane! We can actually fly this thing, right?"

"Of course. I can even pilot it myself. Since it's come up—want to give it a ride?"

"Yes!"

"Great. Hop on, then."

Grinning, I nodded, and Seo Harin and Hakin scrambled aboard, giddy as kids. Somewhere in the meantime, climbers had begun gathering around us. An airship, sitting in the middle of a meadow—if even Seo Harin had never ridden one, then no other climber had either. Everyone was staring at it with eyes full of wonder.

It looked like almost everyone in Zone 1 had already arrived… and from every angle, the mood said I had to give each of them a turn.

Alexei pushed his way to the front and bellowed, "Suhyeok! I get to ride too, right?"

"Hm? Yeah, sure, of course."

I was acquainted with nearly every climber in Zone 1, so even as I answered, I could see the future playing out. And sure enough…

"Suhyeok! Take me up too, please!"

"Me too!"

More than a few hundred climbers began clamoring all at once, each demanding a turn in the sky.

Phew. Well, no helping it.

The Shelter's time had stretched to three days, so I might as well take this chance to teach the Zone 1 climbers how to pilot an airship.

"Hold on a moment! Mages, gather over here first!"

I taught roughly two hundred climbers in Zone 1 the basics of piloting the airship. Naturally, most of them spent the rest of their time buzzing around the Shelter on it. Of course, I also warned them, firmly and repeatedly, not to stray beyond ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the restricted zones—a clumsy pilot crashing into the Shelter's barrier could shatter the airship outright.

Then came the drinking party. Maybe because I'd let everyone ride the airship, I was more popular than usual today; every climber who passed by offered me a greeting.

"Thanks, Suhyeok! That was so much fun!"

"Aw, don't mention it."

"Can we ride again tomorrow?"

"Haha, sure, of course…"

Once the last climber had drifted away, a thin sigh escaped me. Should I just leave the airship parked out in the meadow tomorrow? Yeah, that seemed like the better call. They'd figure out how to fly it themselves.

Later, as I was chatting with my party, Alexei came over with his own crew in tow. It happened every single time, so by now Alexei's freeload—his joinery—had become practically routine. He flashed a wide, toothy grin.

"Suhyeok. Mind if we sit?"