Floor 1, The Waiting Room (1)

"Are you out of your mind?"

After the strange act she'd pulled moments ago, Ha Heijeong looked completely unhinged.

Apparently I'd smacked the back of her head a little too hard. What else could explain it? A perfectly normal girl didn't suddenly start spouting this kind of nonsense.

"Quit the bullshit and let's go home. You're drunk out of your head right now."

I sighed and drained my soju glass. Half the bottle was still left, which stung a little, but Heijeong was clearly in no condition to keep drinking.

"Kwon Suhyeok! We don't have time for this. Shut your mouth and listen to me."

Heijeong grabbed my arm just as I was rising ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from my seat.

Pathetically, I found I couldn't defy her. She was glaring at me with the same terrifying intensity as before, and so I reluctantly settled my half-lifted rear back into the chair.

Sitting back down because of Heijeong's glare — that stung my pride a bit. The taste of soju lingering on my tongue had gone bitter.

I spoke curtly. "Fine. Let's say you went back in time. So what, did you memorize the lotto numbers?"

"More important than that."

"Tch, Bitcoin? Stocks? Heijeong, even if you remember, we're broke. We can't buy anything."

"Suhyeok."

Heijeong lowered her voice. The mood had turned serious, and her eyes were razor sharp.

"Listen to me carefully."

Caught up in her gravity, I nodded without a word. She glanced around the room, checking whether anyone was listening. Thankfully, the pub was loud enough that no one paid us any attention.

I had no idea what could be so important she'd act like this.

"You won't believe me, but a thing called the Tower of Trials is about to appear on Earth."

"What tower?"

"The Tower of Trials! Suhyeok, we're about to get dragged off mid-drinking session. We don't know when it'll happen, so don't interrupt me — listen to the whole thing first. Questions later. I'll explain everything."

"...Okay."

I nodded meekly at her exasperated tone.

"Listen up. You only need to remember three things. One — never, ever open your status window. Even if the messages scream at you, even if there's one second left on the clock, don't open it. The moment you open the status window, the regression means nothing. Nothing at all. Understood?"

"...Sure."

What? Status window? Was she talking about a video game?

I had no idea what she meant, but it wasn't the moment to argue, so I answered quietly.

"Two — Floors 1 through 5 are the tutorial. The gods will offer you sponsorship contracts. Absolutely refuse. Even if it's the God of Light, the God of War, some badass-sounding god begging you to sign — don't even look at them."

Her throat must have gone dry from talking, because she suddenly gulped down a glass of water.

"Until the tutorial ends at Floor 5, do not sign anything. On the way to Floor 6 there's a rest area. Contract with the most pathetic-sounding god you can find there — some passing farmer god, something like that. Got it?"

"Yeah."

Gods? Contracts?

I just nodded along, and she shot me a sharp glare. What? What now? You told me to sit and listen, so I'm listening.

"Three — when your talent blooms, grab a weapon. I'm talking sword, axe, spear, that kind of thing. If you pick up a wand, a bow, or some holy relic, I will actually kill you."

"Why? Magic is the way of men."

For the first time, I pushed back. Her mood had been scary enough that I'd been listening in silence, but this third point I couldn't accept. Even if everything else was true, wizards were the way to go, weren't they? Hellfire raining down on enemy heads... just imagining it gave me chills of excitement. Truth be told, I'd played as a mage in every single game I'd ever touched.

"You lunatic! You have no talent for magic!"

"Quit lying."

It was childish, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but even if Heijeong was joking right now, I refused to admit it. My fantasy had always been the wizard.

"Just pick up a weapon! Please! You couldn't cast for shit, so you went around cracking enemy skulls with your staff!"

Her seething fury shut my mouth. Flushed with heat, Heijeong seemed to catch herself a moment later — she gulped down cold water and forced her excitement back down.

Hmm. Well. Had Heijeong actually regressed through time?

Honestly speaking, it was a baffling story. A tower. A status window. Gods...

My reason rejected every word of it. And yet — whether it was because of the murderous intent she'd shown me earlier, or the alcohol coursing through me — somehow, some part of me found it plausible.

"Got it? Now repeat back the three things I told you."

"Don't open the status window. Don't contract with a god at the start — wait and sign with some shabby one later. And take a weapon instead of a staff."

"Right. Sword, axe, spear — that kind. Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"The urgent part's over. Now I'll explain the rest."

Heijeong let out a breath of relief and continued with an expression far more relaxed than before.

"Soon, we're going to be taken to the Tower of Trials. Not just us — about a million people from Earth."

"A million?"

"Yeah. The Tower has a hundred floors, and if you clear them all, you get to return to Earth alive. They say if you fail to clear it, Earth gets disposed of. Actually, the truth is... no, that's not important right now."

She paused, apparently choosing her next words — but I still couldn't make heads or tails of anything. Tower of Trials. A hundred floors. Earth getting disposed of?

While Heijeong deliberated, I strained my alcohol-addled, foggy brain as hard as I could.

Wait.

Come to think ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of it — Heijeong had regressed. The Tower of Trials, whatever it was — if her story was true, wouldn't the smart move be to just stick to her like glue?

"Hey, Heijeong. If you know the future, can't I just follow you around? Free ride all the way."

"At first, sure. But it's not that simple."

"Why? Were you bad at it?"

"Excuse me? I made it to Floor 91!"

Heijeong flared up instantly, then glared at me with those catlike eyes of hers. Wait — if she climbed to Floor 91, wouldn't she only be stronger the second time around?

"Pfft, yeah, that's basically a free ride. C'mon, you restart and you're carrying some scrub from Floor 1 to Floor 100."

"...We were the last raid. If you don't listen to me, we won't clear it this time either."

"What?"

"The party I was in was humanity's last raid team. Earth failed on Floor 94. And you were the problem."

What — so Earth was destroyed? No, hold on. Before that. I was the problem?

"That was my fault?"

"Not your fault, exactly. It was the Tower's system. Everyone got deceived."

"What the hell does that mean? Talk straight for once. Was it my fault or not?"

Heijeong let out a long, deep sigh and looked at me with sorrowful eyes.

"Strictly speaking, it wasn't your fault. Well... if you'd taken up a weapon, we might have made it to Floor 100. You were Earth's last climber."

"I was Earth's last climber?"

"Yeah. Kwon Suhyeok, the strongest mage on Earth. Fuck — 'if only you'd grabbed a weapon when your talent bloomed' — I must have said that a thousand times over."

Heijeong's face went distant for a moment, as if she were looking back through the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠years.

"Suhyeok. Please, do exactly what I told you. If you can't do it, no one can. You're Earth's hope."

Earth's hope, huh.

My head was swimming.

Heijeong spoke again. "But even if we'd cleared Floor 100 before the regression, it would've meant nothing. Because we opened the status window. So please — do not open the status window."

"Ah, Christ, I got it."

Playing along only worked so many times. The constant repetition was starting to grate on me, like listening to a parrot. But Heijeong didn't care one bit, and pressed on.

"Listen carefully. Like I said, during the tutorial you get to choose a sponsoring god. Floors 1 through 5 are the tutorial, and the grade of gods offering contracts changes with each floor."

"Yeah."

"Simply put: Floor 1 offers S-grade gods, Floor 5 offers F-grade. The higher you climb, the lower the gods' grades get. But that's a trap."

"A trap?"

She nodded, then took a long pull straight from the soju bottle, looking frustrated.

"Yeah. You know how drafts work in sports, right? Worst teams pick first. It's exactly that system. But here's the catch hiding inside it — the gods' grades have been shuffled around."

"Shuffled? So a god that shows up claiming to be S-grade might not be?"

"Exactly. They show up with fake names to lure us in. Easy example — on Floor 1 you contract with the so-called God of Light, and it turns out to be the God of Bonfires. A bonfire gives off light, so technically it's not even a lie."

"Those bastards are insane."

"There's another trap too. I told you never to open the status window, right? Opening it is exactly the same as signing a slave contract. The status window is—"

What the — it's real?

So it wasn't just her being drunk and babbling nonsense?

I looked around in a panic, but not a single "What is that?" could be heard anywhere. Every soul in the pub sat frozen in silence before the translucent window, before the alien voice ringing in their ears.

No. They're not silent.

Watching people mouth words without sound in the hush, I realized the audio itself had simply been cut. It was as if the whole pub had a mute button, and someone had pressed it — not a whisper of noise remained.

The message refreshed.

I was still staring blankly at the notification when I felt someone tapping my arm. It was Heijeong. Perhaps because her voice wouldn't come out, she thrust three fingers in front of my eyes.

I understood — she was telling me to remember the three things she'd said — and nodded.

Never open the status window. Choose a melee weapon. Contract with a god later.

It was true. Heijeong had really gone back in time.

Only now, watching the message unfold before my eyes, could I finally accept that everything she'd said was the truth.

And then my vision went white.

A sensation of floating in a blank white void where nothing ahead of me could be seen. And when I opened my eyes again, I found myself in an unfamiliar room, its every surface awash in white.