Chapter 87: 6th Floor Hidden (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 87: 6th Floor Hidden (1)
I scanned my surroundings as I followed the knights.
The interior was pristine. It had a sleek, modern feel that suggested a civilization far more advanced than the one I’d encountered on the 4th Floor’s Hidden Route. Even the knights’ armor wasn't traditional medieval plate; it was a marvel of mechanical engineering.
Most importantly, the knights weren't human.
Through the narrow slits of their helmets, I caught glimpses of faces with three eyes—the same race as the nobleman who had addressed me earlier.
The pieces began to fall into place.
First, my current status: a slave. Second, the nobleman’s mention of a "splendid match."
A slave gladiator? The Colosseum? It seemed I had been dropped right into the middle of a blood sport.
The sterile, polished hallway eventually gave way to a damp, subterranean gloom as we descended. We soon arrived at a massive holding facility.
It was only then that I saw them: humans with a normal pair of eyes.
Countless people—men and women, young and old—were crammed into cells. They were filthy, haggard, and bound in heavy shackles.
The knights led me to one of these cages.
Clank.
A knight stepped forward to fasten shackles onto my wrists. I briefly considered resisting then and there, but I forced myself to stay still. I needed more information before I made a move. If things went south, I could always force my way out later.
"What are you waiting for? Get in."
Once the chains were secure, I was shoved into the cell. Every eye in the room turned toward me. The knights departed, leaving only two guards posted outside the bars.
The prisoners immediately rushed toward me.
"Turo, you’re safe!"
"Are you alright? Are you hurt...?"
Turo. So that was my name in this scenario.
They looked at me with genuine concern; one woman was even on the verge of tears. Their reactions were warm, confirming that these people were my allies.
"You must be exhausted. Please, rest, Turo," a man said, casting a look of pure vitriol at the alien guards outside. "Who knows when those bastards will drag you out again..."
The others guided me to a corner. I sat down, leaning my back against the cold stone wall, and began to process the situation.
The enemy: the three-eyed race. My allies: the humans. The three-eyed race had enslaved the humans, and I had just returned from a match. That was the extent of my knowledge.
"Um... should I massage your shoulders, Turo? Or you can rest your head on my lap. You need to be as comfortable as possible..."
A woman who had sat down beside me wouldn't stop talking. I glanced around to ensure the guards weren't listening, then leaned in and whispered.
"Excuse me..."
"Yes, Turo!"
"Keep your voice down. Lean in for a moment."
When in doubt, ask directly.
"I’m a little confused right now," I murmured.
"...You are?"
"I took a heavy blow to the head during the match. My memory is a mess. Could you tell me exactly what’s going on?"
The woman’s eyes widened in shock. "Y-You have amnesia? Oh no...!"
"I’m just disoriented. I think it’ll come back if you explain things to me."
The woman’s expression hardened with resolve, and she nodded. "O-Okay. What exactly do you need to know?"
"How did we end up locked in here?"
"From... from the very beginning? You don't remember anything?"
"Quickly, please."
At my urging, she began to explain. Her storytelling was a bit scattered, but the picture she painted was clear enough.
We were a people called the 'Panlop.' The three-eyed race were the 'Kalundi,' an alien species that had invaded this continent from the stars. With their overwhelming technology and power, they had crushed every nation in their path, enslaving humanity and conquering the world in an instant.
The "matches" were their primary form of entertainment. They forced human slaves into death matches for sport. This particular tournament involved rounding up slaves from different ethnicities and forcing them to kill one another, with the fate of their entire race hanging in the balance.
I was the champion representing the Panlop. In other words, the lives of everyone in this facility rested entirely on my shoulders.
"I see..."
"S-So? Is it coming back to you?"
"Yes, I think I’m starting to remember."
I sank into thought. I had the background; now I needed the clear condition.
He said it was the finals.
The nobleman had mentioned that only the final match remained. If I won the finals, would that clear the route? It seemed too simple for a Hidden Route, but I had to start somewhere.
Wait a minute...
A sudden sense of dread washed over me. How long do I have to wait?
Time was passing outside the Tower as well. I had entered this route from my room. If I didn't return within a day, my family would panic. Up until now, Hidden Routes had progressed rapidly, but this one felt different.
I should have told them I was going on a trip or something.
If the wait became too long, I’d have no choice but to break out and cause chaos. It wasn't the ideal solution, but it was an option.
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long.
Clang.
About half a day later, the knights returned.
"Come out, Number 199."
A voice rose in protest from the back of the cell. "...Isn't this too much? Turo hasn't even rested for a few hours!"
The knight’s hand went to his sword as he stepped toward the dissenter.
Crazy bastard.
I stood up, blocking his path. "My apologies. I’m coming."
The knight stared at me for a long beat, then sheathed his blade and jerked his chin toward the door. I followed him out, leaving behind the anxious, prayerful gazes of my people.
We left the holding facility and arrived at a portal. Beside it stood a rack of various weapons. The knight unshackled my wrists.
"Choose a weapon and enter."
The finals.
I hesitated between a mace and a sword before finally gripping the hilt of a longsword. Then, I stepped through the portal.
Fwaaash!
The scenery shifted instantly. I was standing in the center of a massive arena, a structure reminiscent of the Colosseum.
ROOOOAR—!
A deafening wall of sound hit me. The stands were packed with thousands of three-eyed Kalundi, all screaming for blood.
[And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! The final match!]
A magically amplified voice boomed through the arena. I felt like a specimen in a jar as I looked across the sands at my opponent.
[The finals will be a one-on-one duel! No complicated rules! Number 199 versus Number 21! The two greatest warriors to survive a field of over three hundred participants will now fight for the survival of their people!]
My opponent was a burly man wielding a massive greataxe. His face was a mask of grim, desperate determination.
At each end of the arena sat a glowing Core. Behind me was a Blue Core; behind him, a Red Core.
[Victory is achieved by destroying the opponent’s Core! And don't forget our special post-match event: the total execution of every slave belonging to the losing side! Stay in your seats until the very end!]
The crowd’s roar reached a fever pitch.
This is just a trial, but it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
[Now! Let the match begin!]
The man charged with a guttural war cry.
CLANG!
I parried his descending axe. He followed up with a ferocious, relentless assault. I focused on blocking and dodging, gauging his strength. He wasn't weak, but he was Level 50 at best. Against me, at Level 80, he was outclassed.
What’s the play here?
I could end this in a second. But if it was this easy, winning the match couldn't be the true clear condition. Would something else trigger after the fight? Only one way to find out.
I moved.
KRAAANG!
I swung my sword with a burst of strength, the impact tearing the axe from the man’s grip. He stood there, stunned, as I grabbed his arm and slammed him into the dirt.
"Keuk...!"
I ignored him and sprinted toward his Core. The crowd went silent for a heartbeat before erupting again. The man scrambled to his feet, charging at me with nothing but his bare hands.
I threw him aside again and began hacking at the crystal.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
He was desperate, clawing at me to stop the destruction. I could see the raw despair in his eyes. He couldn't lose. If he lost, his people died.
But I couldn't afford to lose either.
I shoved him away one last time and shattered the Red Core.
Crack!
The crystal splintered into a thousand fragments.
[...The match is over! An overwhelming victory for Number 199!]
A mix of boos and cheers filled the air—the match had been too one-sided for some of the spectators. The man, who had kept rising like a battered doll, finally collapsed to his knees, defeated.
Then, a new voice, cold and commanding, echoed through the stadium.
"Silence."
High above the arena floor sat two ornate thrones. A Kalundi man stood up from one of them. At his word, the entire stadium fell into a hush.
"I, Patoum, Third Prince of the Kalundi Empire, commend your victory."
"..."
"Number 199, what is your name?"
"It is Turo," I replied.
"Turo, as promised, your people shall live. Furthermore, as the champion of this tournament, you are hereby stripped of your slave status and granted 2nd Class Citizenship within the Kalundi Empire."
The crowd cheered again. Citizenship meant nothing to me. I waited, watching for the next prompt.
The prince spoke again. "You should be proud. As the champion, do you have any final words?"
I couldn't think of anything specific. "Thank you," I said simply.
[You have failed to clear the 6th Floor Hidden Route on Nightmare Difficulty. (2/3)]
[You will be ejected from the Tower.]
What?
The world blurred, and suddenly I was back in my room, sitting in my chair. I stared at the wall, dumbfounded.
"...What the hell?"
Why did I fail? What did I do wrong?
I replayed the moment in my head. The prince asked if I had anything to say, I said thank you... and then the failure message.
Was the answer the key? Was I supposed to say something else?
—I told you to just kill them all, the Demon King’s voice hissed in my mind. If you give me control, I’ll slaughter every last one of those three-eyed freaks.
"Are you trying to ruin the trial?" I snapped back. "Why is your answer always 'kill everyone'?"
This guy was a Nightmare Climber himself. How did he ever clear anything?
—Why would I bother with 'clearing' it? Whether the system recognized it or not, I simply killed everything in my path.
"There are rewards at stake, you idiot."
—Skills, items... trivialities. My power already rivals the gods.
"That’s great. Then why couldn't you finish the Nightmare climb?"
Ignoring the Demon King’s indignant silence, I focused. The failure happened the moment I answered. The response was definitely the trigger. But what was the right answer?
After a long while, I stood up and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" my mother asked as I passed the kitchen.
"Out for drinks with friends. I might be late."
*
[Would you like to enter the 6th Floor on Nightmare Difficulty?]
I checked into a motel, sat on the bed, and re-entered the Tower.
Round two.
I played through the scenario again: the prison, the exposition, the arena. I subdued the same desperate opponent and shattered his Core.
"...I, Patoum, Third Prince of the Kalundi Empire, commend your victory."
I was back at the conversation with the prince.
"As the champion, do you have anything you wish to say?"
The same question. This time, I had a different plan.
"Instead of citizenship... could you grant me a different reward?"
A murmur rippled through the stands. The prince chuckled, leaning forward with interest. "A different reward? What do you desire? The survival of your people is already guaranteed."
I glanced at the man kneeling in despair at the other end of the arena, then looked back at the prince.
"I ask for mercy. Let the people of the opposing side live as well. That is the reward I desire in place of my citizenship."
I had thought about this for hours. The only lore I had was that this was a fight for survival between two enslaved races. If the goal wasn't just winning, then perhaps it was breaking the cycle of the game itself. Saving both sides seemed like the most "Hidden Route" solution possible.
It certainly wasn't about killing the aliens—that was impossible at my current level.
"...You wish for the losers to survive?" The prince stroked his chin. "It is a small request compared to citizenship, but it contradicts the very premise of this tournament. Only one race is meant to survive. This is a dilemma."
"..."
"What are the princess’s thoughts?"
The prince turned to the throne beside him. A Kalundi woman stood up. She looked down at me, a bright, predatory smile crossing her face.
"I like the spirit of this slave, brother. Such a bold demand. Are you giving me the choice?"
"Since he has caught your eye, I shall allow it."
"Then I shall decide by tomorrow," the princess declared. "Until then, postpone the executions."
The prince nodded. "Very well. Turo, my sister, Princess Latium, will decide your request by this time tomorrow. Until then, the losing side shall be spared."
No failure message appeared. I felt a surge of relief.
It worked.
I turned my head and met the eyes of my opponent. The man, who had been ready for death, was staring at me with wide, trembling eyes. He bowed his head in profound gratitude. I gave him a sharp nod.
As the crowd began to disperse, the knights approached me. "Follow us."
I was led away from the arena.
—If you wanted to save everyone, you should have just killed the three-eyed bastards, the Demon King grumbled. You’re just making this difficult.
This is how you clear a Hidden Route, Demon King. You use your head. You can't just brute-force everything.
—Shut up.
Stop being a sore loser. Things are going perfectly.
We entered a sprawling palace and stopped before an ornate, gilded door. The knight knocked and stepped aside. The door swung open.
The room was vast and decadent, dripping with jewels and luxury. Inside, lounging on a chaise, was the princess.
"Come in," she said.
The knight who had escorted me moved to stand behind her like a silent sentinel. I stepped inside, and the heavy doors clicked shut behind me.
"Come closer."
I approached. She blinked her three eyes, scanning me from head to toe before letting out a low, melodic laugh.
"Slave, your name is Turo, correct?"
"Yes."
"I like your spirit. And," she added, her gaze lingering, "I quite like your face as well."
"..."
"Turo, if you can satisfy me, I shall grant you my mercy and honor your request."
Satisfy her? How? I was already preparing a mental script to persuade her, thinking this was the final social check of the trial, when she spoke again.
"Strip."
"...Pardon?"
The princess licked her lips, a seductive, dangerous smile playing on her face. "Did I not tell you to satisfy me? Take everything off and get over here."
She rose from her seat, walked over to a massive bed in the corner, and lay down, watching me expectantly.
My brain stalled.
—Puhahahahahahaha!
The Demon King’s laughter exploded in my head, mocking and hysterical.
Son of a bitch...
I had prepared for a threat to my life, but I never imagined a threat to my virtue.