Floor 23, The Waiting Room (2)

Ha Heijeong had told me about the 23rd floor. Until now, since we'd been moving together, she'd kept the details to herself — aside from the hidden missions, anyway. But apparently, the farther I'd be from her, the more information about the floor she was willing to share.

Still, a worry lingered.

Up until this point, excluding my individual floors, I'd faced the same trials as every other climber. But there was no guarantee that would hold true now that I was in a personal party.

The odds are low, but...

It was possible I'd be handed a trial all my own. I couldn't afford to let my guard down.

After my talk with Ha Heijeong, I spent my time training with Dobby in the dojo — I sparred with the Administrator, while Dobby went up against an orc warrior. They were both fairly strong opponents, and even after lowering the difficulty, I found I had more to learn than ever before. Being able to watch my opponent's every movement with my own eyes made all the difference.

My Axe Mastery rose by a level, and my stats crept up ever so slightly. From now on, I figured I could just adjust the difficulty and train exclusively against the Administrator.

Another ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blessing was that Dobby's skill was growing by the day.

Well, I'll handle anything serious myself, so it's not like Dobby will need to fight, but...

It's better to mend the fence before you lose the cow, not after. At this level, I figured he could hold his own on a group floor without me worrying too much.

Three hours to go. The group-floor climbers from the 22nd floor had long since arrived in the Waiting Room themselves.

I'd finished browsing the community boards, and after mulling over what to do with the time left, I opened the shop. Even if there was nothing I needed right away, who knew — maybe something would catch my eye.

As my vision brightened, towering sand dunes swam into view. A dizzying wave of heat washed over my skin, and the dunes stretched on without end. I was standing in a desert.

And the moment I registered that fact — before I'd even checked the Tower's message — I found myself deep in thought.

This isn't what Ha Heijeong described...

So does a personal party get individual-floor treatment even on a group floor?

Damn it. If that was the case, everything she'd told me was useless. I sensed movement nearby, so I cut off the thought and hurried to read the Tower's message.

The Hover Kingdom?

Oh — wait, this part matched what Ha Heijeong had said. So the setting was the same, but the trial I'd been given was different? That seemed to be it. I hadn't landed somewhere completely alien — just a different place within the same world.

"Hey, mister! The caravan master says we're moving out soon! Get over here!"

A man up ahead was shouting in my direction. Light leather armor, a sword at his hip — a mercenary with a rather fierce-looking face. Behind him, a crowd of more than sixty caravan members was readying itself to move. I gave a light nod and followed him.

As I walked, I ran through the message again.

A slave trader...

The term was foreign to me. To someone who'd lived in 21st-century Korea, slavery was a distant, deeply unethical word. And now I was being ordered to escort a slave trader. My face scrunched up on its own.

Then again, maybe this was simply the norm — the social custom and culture of these people. This was a medieval-era world, so premodern thinking was only natural for them.

But the disgust was real all the same. Why did something like this have to be called a trial? A deep cynicism and revulsion welled up in me — but it was the trial I'd been assigned, so there was nothing to be done about it.

...They all look terrible.

The slaves, shackled and reduced to skin and bones. On top of that, they'd clearly been brutalized — their entire bodies were mottled with bruises. The longer I looked, the more my brows knitted. Judging by the state of them, sexual abuse had been inflicted on the women and men alike.

Off in the distance, a hulking figure who had to be the caravan master was pulling himself up off the body of an adult man.

"You've had your look, so let's move."

The sight disgusted me the instant I saw it. No — disgusted wasn't strong enough. It was the kind of scene that made something murderous stir in your chest.

The moment I joined the ranks, the mercenary who'd called out to me earlier sidled up and tried to act friendly. Since I was scowling, he was careful about it.

"Mister, what's with the sour face? What's your name?"

"Kwon Suhyeok."

"Odd name. I'm Comet. Got a question, if you don't mind me asking?"

Mercenary Comet pressed in close, firing off questions like we were old friends. Hmm. Seemed like a real social butterfly type. His face was rough, but he didn't seem bad-hearted, so I gave a light nod.

The 23rd floor was a thirty-six-hour trial. That was a long time to walk in silence by yourself outside of combat, so having someone to talk to didn't seem like a bad idea.

"That goblin something you keep around, mister?"

"That's right."

"Oho, a goblin errand-runner. Now that's a novelty."

Comet looked Dobby up and down. Ah — I'd forgotten this was a different world. Traveling with a goblin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠might look strange here. I glanced around in a hurry, but fortunately, aside from Comet, nobody else seemed to pay Dobby any mind.

"Hey there, goblin friend. Nice to meet you. Name's Comet."

"Kkiik! Human! Nice to meet!"

After trading greetings with Dobby, Comet turned back to me. The seasoned eyes of a veteran mercenary swept over my attire this time.

"Mister, aren't you hot, wearing full plate like that in the Oden Desert, in this weather? I feel like I'm melting right now."

Ah — come to think of it, I was wearing full-body plate armor. Well, it wasn't hot enough to kill me, so I hadn't really registered the discomfort. I'd noticed the sweltering heat around me, but my body was interpreting it as nothing more than a pleasantly warm day. Probably thanks to my high level of fire resistance.

Still, it'd be a little weird to strip it off now.

Changing clothes out of nowhere would just draw everyone's attention. And to stow it away, I'd need to put it in my inventory — and Ha Heijeong had told me not to go flaunting mimicry in front of people from other worlds. Walking around with a dimensional pocket wasn't exactly a common sight, and it would earn me unwanted interest.

"I'm fine. I can manage it. I run hot."

"Whew, wearing armor like that and shrugging off this heat? You must be a top-tier mercenary... that armor's a beauty too. What region did you mostly work?"

Yeah — I take back what I thought about it being nice to have someone to talk to. This guy had clocked me as a mercenary worth getting close to from the very beginning.

Faced with a question I couldn't easily answer, I held my silence. Comet took the hint and nodded knowingly.

"Fair enough, I understand. You gave an alias earlier, after all — hard to go around showing your credentials when the job's escorting a slave trader. Crossing the desert is no small undertaking either."

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

Huh? Did I just hear something strange? My mind raced at Comet's words. Hard to reveal your identity when escorting a slave trader... That sounded like the buying and selling of slaves wasn't exactly accepted as a matter of course here.

When I quietly turned to look at him, Comet got flustered and spoke first.

"Whew, I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. It's only because the caravan master hired a top-grade mercenary like you that a low-grade one like me got to come out here and make money. I promise I won't cause you any trouble."

"Hold on — slavery is banned in the Hover Kingdom, isn't it?"

I risked drawing suspicion by asking, but I wanted a straight answer to this one. Was slavery regarded as an immoral act here too?

"Huh?"

Comet's eyes went wide at my question. Not so much a look of you don't know? as a look of pure incomprehension — like he was staring at an idiot. How common-sense did a statement have to be for the reaction to skip suspicion entirely and land on what an idiot?

I flushed slightly and scrambled to add an explanation.

"The truth is, I only recently came down from the mountains, where I'd been training under my master since I was a child. So I don't know much about the ways of the world. I only took the job because the money was good."

"Ah, so you had a strict master."

"Something like that."

Whether my excuse worked or Comet simply decided to let it slide, he gave a nod and moved on.

Maybe he just liked to talk, because Comet's eyes lit up and he leaned in, murmuring.

"Honestly, this slave trade only started thriving recently. Back in the day, slavery had been banned across the entire continent for hundreds of years — under the doctrine of the goddess Blue Dawn Wind."

"Oh, is that so."

"Well, to be fair, even back then the higher floors only avoided the word 'slave.' They kept them in secret all the same."

I offered the appropriate little nods and grunts between Comet's sentences, and that seemed to excite him, because his words sped up.

"But fifty years ago, when the goddess Blue Dawn Wind disappeared, the trade really began to grow. It's still regulated by law, but these days people keep slaves out in the open."

Blue Dawn Wind.

A Sinjwa — a divine being — no doubt about it. But she'd vanished fifty years ago. Was this incident connected to another Sinjwa as well? Like it had been with Dobby and Fenrike?

"Anyway, the goddess still has followers, so the public sees this trade as truly shameful. Get caught, and you can't escape punishment. It's only the nobles and the rich who keep slaves, quietly, behind closed doors."

Hmm. He was being excessively helpful. I almost suspected he was some NPC the Tower had stationed here to help me get my bearings.

Whatever the case, my conversation with Comet had hardened my resolve.

I was going to tear this slave caravan apart.

The Tower's premodern thinking be damned — I simply could not look at this scene and turn away.

Even though the Tower's message said escort, there was a separate reason I'd suddenly made this decision.

If you read the message carefully...

Something about it didn't sit right.

First: a successful slave hunt — and a coming ambush. The message didn't mention an attack outright, but if the trial were simply crossing the desert for thirty-six hours, I wouldn't have been sent here. Therefore, an ambush definitely existed. So what would the attackers want? The slaves, obviously — the ones acquired through that successful hunt.

Second: the object of escort him was left unstated. The Tower, which loved hiding clues to hidden missions in its messages, had written ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠simply, "Escort him to the destination" — no subject specified. Which meant the object of that verb was unlikely to be the slave trader.

Drawing a reasonable inference from everything I'd experienced so far, it seemed clear that what I was meant to protect wasn't the slave trader, but someone among the slaves.

Of course, my own disgust with slavery is part of that reasoning, but...

Even setting that aside, the odds that the escort target was the trader seemed overwhelming. The Tower's deliberately vague phrasing — and Comet, approaching a stranger who stood out from the crowd with such easy warmth. None of that was coincidence.

The Tower always gave hints toward its hidden missions. This was a sound deduction, built from every clue it had laid out.

The only thing that snagged on me was the thought that Comet actually seemed like a decent man.

"Comet, what do you think about slavery?"

"What do I think? I'm no devout follower of Blue Dawn Wind, but honestly? I think it's wrong."

"Then why are you here..."

"The war ended two years ago. There are more mercenaries than anyone knows what to do with, and not enough work. You know how it is."

Comet let out a self-deprecating sigh.

"I've got three kids at home. Even with my wife taking in sewing work, we can barely make ends meet. They're offering real money here — what good is my conviction going to do me? Most of the mercenaries who came out here are in the same boat as me."

I understood. In the face of family and survival, conviction and principle are the first things anyone throws away.

It did feel a little unfair to spare Comet alone for this, but... I'm not a god. I couldn't decide the punishment for the sins of every person here. Nor could I go around polling each and every mercenary on their views about slavery.

Call it selfish, if you like — call it the bare minimum of goodwill owed to someone who'd given me information.

Well, I couldn't kill them all, so I'd watch how things unfolded and decide the other mercenaries' fates then. But not now. The timing wasn't right yet.