The Tenth Floor Residential Zone

Upon reaching the 10th floor, a notification appeared before I could even survey my surroundings, and I blinked in surprise.

Two slots? Did that mean I could conquer the tower using two avatars at once?

Startled, I opened my ability window and tapped the newly created second slot.

The number of dimensions where I could create avatars had increased, but they were all incomprehensible numbers, and the Tower itself was gone from the list. So dual-tracking was impossible after all. To be honest, even if an avatar was created, I had no idea how I would control it. Still, the disappointment was hard to shake. I had gotten my hopes up that this cheat-like ability might finally live up to its potential.

The scenery of the newly arrived 10th floor carried an atmosphere reminiscent of a cathedral. Since there was no immediate threat, I moved on to checking the new notifications.

New items and shared abilities had been added. When I checked the shop window, the selection had expanded dramatically, and so had the prices. There was now a wide variety of one-handed swords and shields, each with different costs. The one-handed sword I had purchased before had jumped to 10 points. If a basic sword cost that much, I dreaded to think how much a high-grade recovery potion would run.

That thought led me to check the potion prices, and my jaw dropped.

“What the hell is this?!”

The prices hadn’t increased by ten times or even fifty times. They had skyrocketed by a thousand times. Were they insane?

“This isn’t even close to a bargain!”

If I had known, I would have spent every last point on potions back then!

My shout drew a middle-aged man dressed like a priest in from outside.

“Oh, a new climber, I see.”

When I shot him a wary look at his sudden appearance, the priest smiled kindly.

“If you’re thinking of attacking, please stop. According to the Tower’s laws, on the ‘public floors,’ climbers cannot harm or commit illegal acts against us First Settlers, and we cannot do so against climbers.”

“…Is that so?”

I hadn’t actually planned to attack. I had simply been ready to run if he did. But were the Tower’s laws and illegal acts considered separate things?

“Yes. Should anyone commit an illegal act, the Tower’s Emissaries will take them away and deliver a truly terrifying punishment.”

Something about the priest’s words felt off.

“If climbers cannot harm First Settlers and First Settlers cannot harm climbers, does that mean the reverse is possible?”

He chuckled softly at my question.

“Most newcomers ask whether the restrictions only apply to the Tower’s Emissaries or only on the public floors. Your question is rather unique. Yes, climbers must be wary of other climbers, and First Settlers must be wary of their own.”

“I see. The phrase ‘on the public floors’ suggests that on other floors, conflict with First Settlers is allowed?”

“So I’m told. I’ve never left this city, let alone the public floors, so I wouldn’t know from experience.”

I nodded at the priest’s words and asked another question.

“Then what exactly are the Tower’s Emissaries?”

“They are the enforcers of the law. I hear they are a special unit made up of at least mid-tier experts. I’ve lived a virtuous life and have never met one… The Tower is essentially a nation unto itself. In the world of climbers, there are guards—what you would call police officers, correct? Think of the Tower’s Emissaries as the elite of that profession.”

His answer surprised me.

“You know about the police?”

The priest nodded.

“Of course. It has already been about twenty-five years since the Tower connected to your world. In that time, there has been quite ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a bit of exchange, both open and hidden.”

Twenty-five years? Not ten?

As if reading my thoughts, the priest continued.

“Ah, by the standards of your world, it has been ten years, yes? Time flows slower the lower you are in the Tower and faster the higher you climb. I was born here and have never left, so I’ve never felt the difference myself.”

The priest pointed to a booklet placed beside the entrance where he stood.

“This is a guidebook distributed by your world’s… what was it called? World Protection Organization?”

“You mean the World Protection Treaty Organization?”

“Ah! Yes, that was the name. Anyway, it is a guidebook prepared for new climbers like yourself. Take a copy and read it.”

With that, the priest bowed and turned to leave without even introducing himself.

“W-wait! Could you tell me where I can sell scrap metal?”

“If it’s metal, the blacksmith or weapon shops will buy it. The locations are clearly marked in that booklet. The people of this city consult it often as well, so it should be helpful. If you have nowhere to stay tonight, feel free to return here. Taking care of a lost lamb is a religious duty, is it not?”

The priest smiled warmly and left. I grabbed a copy of the guidebook, stored it in my inventory, and shifted my consciousness back to my main body.

For now, the 10th floor seemed to be a safe zone, but I couldn’t be too sure. I checked for any additional abilities from my main body.

Unlike before, the second slot now offered more dimensions to choose from. However, aside from Earth and the Tower, they were all listed as unknown numbers. It seemed that because Earth and the Tower existed as clear concepts in my mind, they had proper names, while the others did not.

“How am I supposed to know what kind of dimension it is if it’s only listed as a number?”

I glared at the ability window. In response, a vague image of the numbered dimension surfaced. At the same time, I realized the newly added dimensions were ones where a causal link had been formed because of the new skill I had learned—Blue Wood Swordsmanship.

“So I can only create avatars in dimensions where some form of causality exists, like abilities or items.”

Did that mean they were dimensions similar to martial arts novels? The Blue Wood Swordsmanship I had used felt exactly like the sword techniques described in those stories. When I focused on both Blue Wood Swordsmanship and my Multidimensional Avatar ability, I could sense which dimension had the strongest connection to the skill I had learned.

#33669. So the order of available avatar dimensions was based on how deeply connected they were to me.

After some thought, I reached toward Earth. I had been dragged into the Tower without a chance to speak to my parents. Since time flowed differently, even if I spent a long time in the Tower, only a few days would have passed on Earth. Still, disappearing for several days right after my discharge without a word could cause problems. It would be embarrassing if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they filed a missing person report.

When I touched Earth, a warning appeared.

I hesitated for a moment. The first avatar was technically safe, but it was still standing at the entrance of the cathedral. If I was going to do it, better to do so from an inn or somewhere more secure. I closed the ability window and decided to check the other shared abilities instead.

When I activated the mini-map, a small white circle appeared with a blue dot marking my location. Next to the blue dot was a crystal-like icon. Was it showing a radius of about five meters?

“It really ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is like a game.”

I wondered if other people would be displayed as well. That was something I would have to test on the 10th floor. Its usefulness would depend on whether it was simply a map or if it also included enemy detection capabilities.

Next was the Tower Community. When I opened the window, it felt like looking at an old PC bulletin board system I had only seen in photographs. There were no banners, profiles, or images—just pure text. The simple, straightforward structure made it intuitive and easy to understand.

There were sections for Search, Chat Messages, Public Community, Lower Floor Community, Middle Floor Community, and Upper Floor Community. Chat was divided into private and group chats, and the community functions allowed invitations to chat rooms, much like a common messenger app.

The Public Community could be used from any floor, but access to the Middle and Upper Floor Communities was blocked entirely. The floors were categorized as Lower (39 and below), Middle (69 and below), and Upper (70 and above). The higher you climbed, the Lower Floor Community could only be viewed, not posted to. If you wanted to communicate with Lower Floor climbers, you had to invite them to private chat or use the Public Community.

Each community had different topic categories. Inside those categories were posts written by other climbers. Since the Tower invited people from all over the world, countless foreign languages filled the boards. Thanks to the new shared ability Translation, however, even unfamiliar languages read as naturally as my mother tongue.

“It’s nothing but trash posts and shitposts.”

People who spammed bizarre messages existed in every country. I was glad there was no photo upload function. If there had been, the community would have been an absolute den of depravity.

Finding useful information here was like searching for a needle in a haystack. That was why the search function existed.

After a quick look around, I checked the guidebook. The first page explained how to use the community.

After that, rather than information about the Tower itself, it was a guide to the city I had arrived in. A map marked major shops, inns, libraries, and so on. It listed what each shop mainly sold and their typical prices. The last update was from the previous month, June 1st. It seemed a WPTO agent stationed in the city updated it every six months. That explained what the priest had meant about the city’s residents consulting it occasionally.

It contained more detail about the city than I had expected.

When I checked, the bottom of the shop sold 1,000 credits for 1 point.

“One credit is roughly 100 won… so 1 point equals 100,000 won?”

Ten thousand won for one horned rabbit? Could the economy even sustain that? Wouldn’t it cause inflation? According to the booklet, a single meal cost between 50 and 100 credits, while inns ranged from 300 credits for cheap rooms to 1,000 for nicer ones.

If ordinary climbers earned money this easily, wouldn’t they get ripped off constantly? Given that prices in wealthy neighborhoods were unusually high, it followed basic economic principles.

“Ah, right. The Tower’s Emissaries haul people away for illegal acts. Would overcharging count as fraud?”

I couldn’t be sure. I would look into it later if I got curious.

After finishing with the booklet, I followed its instructions and searched the community for the term it recommended.

When I searched for WPTO Agent K, posts by Agent K appeared across the Public, Lower, Middle, and even Upper communities. I clicked on the very first post, titled Community Usage Rules.

(To be continued in the next chapter.)