Diverging Paths to Independence

Before I ended up losing even in bed, I took the real Isana—the one who'd regained her senses—to a quiet park. The Tower World had its share of elves, those sociopaths who insisted on green spaces smack in the middle of the city, drilling holes in perfectly good trees to live in while preaching about loving nature. The parks were usually full of just elves, who lounged around tree stumps taking naps, which made them dead silent.

"Perfect, a quiet spot. Let's talk here."

"What... about?"

"How you want to live. I'm not saying we each go our separate ways. You gotta take responsibility for your own life—you can't let others control ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it, right?"

Isana regained her composure and nodded. "Yeah, you're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right."

"You're climbing the tower to get back to Earth, aren't you?"

"Yeah. No matter what, I can't live in a place like this."

"I got no reason to go back to Earth. But I'll climb the tower anyway. Seems like the best way to make a living here."

It was a lie. Han Do-yoon wanted to return to Earth and live a normal life too. Back then, he'd climbed for the same reasons he'd just spouted, but the Tower had started feeling like shackles. At some point, he'd begun dreaming of escape. If you had to do something you hated just to chase some goal, even financial success wouldn't make it worth it.

"Our goals are different, but we've got the tower in common. And everyone's got their own way to clear it. So teaming up and moving as one... I don't think that's the right choice. The finish line's the same, but the courses we're given are different."

"You say it like everything you're saying is spot on."

Isana thought rationally and responded... but she could sense it. He was deliberately trying to push her away.

"Already got something you wanna do? Meanwhile, I'm stressing over how to get through today without you, let alone tomorrow's meals."

"Yeah, I've got a plan. Bottom line: prep for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠climbing the tower... You need that too, right? I don't know how you cleared floor 1, but it must've been a nightmare."

I had no choice but to nod... Isana figured that if she needed money and wanted to challenge floor 2 to get back to Earth, she'd need thorough preparation. At minimum: how to survive any monster, self-sufficiency skills for being dumped in the wild, first aid basics, and so on. Only after listing what she needed did she realize how much she'd leaned on a guy just because she was a woman—acting like baggage, clinging desperately.

I've been acting like such a lightweight slut.

The past few days of bizarre events had made her abandon thinking and just crave dependence. She'd acted like spreading her legs and offering her ass was enough for him to handle everything... Easy life, sure, but it didn't sit right with who she was. Reason returned, sharpness filling her mind. Her dazed expression sharpened. I noticed the change.

"...Got it. Yeah, I've been acting like a total airhead."

"You saw me use magic earlier, right? I'm gonna look into that. I loved games back home, and isekai stuff always means magic."

"I'm..."

Lots of things popped into her head—not what she wanted most, but what she absolutely needed.

"First off... gotta do odd jobs and learn something. Like working part-time while studying. Saw plenty of help-wanted signs earlier—way more than on Earth."

Just her wanting to step up and do something was a relief. I'd guide her toward the sword path gradually. Fate would lead Isana to Sword God. That realm wasn't something luck alone could claim.

"But until I can stand on my own, we can live together, right? I'm scared to live alone in a place like this."

...I'd put up with the whining until then.

Isana had awakened to her true self. She acted like her old personality. After our frank talk about the future, her first move was job hunting.

"I saw the notice up front—mind if I work here?"

First place she reached for was the inn we'd stayed at yesterday. In the Tower World, folks doing serving or cleaning gigs were rare. Those who did usually dove into the tower before becoming pros... So any shop was desperate for help, even a cat's paw. The dwarf—who'd once been my senior at an inn—thought he was getting a cat's paw, not a beast in heat howling like one, but he was busy, so he let it slide.

"I got hired at this inn!"

"Quick work. Hope you don't end up spreading for pocket change."

"...You saying that like I just took a job like that?"

"Dead serious."

"I'm not that easy."

"You squirted like a bitch in heat."

"Th-that's... 'cause you felt good."

A day passed, then two, and a week's pay barely hit 5 coins, but the inn covered room and board, so she could save.

"Isana, right?"

"Yes! Boss!"

"Not the boss... Anyway, you cleared floor 1, yeah?"

"Yes!"

"Then head back in and gather some fruit and herbs. You see ones like this while serving? Elves love 'em."

"...Isn't it dangerous for me?"

"You cleared it once, right? Second time's easier. Bring these back, I'll toss in 1 coin per basket."

Blinded by coin, Isana re-entered floor 1.

Those wolves again... I can do it. First time's the hardest, second's easy.

Back then, her mental state was half-gone. Not now. She'd adapted to the Tower World—quicker judgments, wider field of view.

Can I use that sword again?

Huh?

In the brutal fight with the wolves—where a tooth chipped and it half-broke—the sword had restored itself. Weapon and condition at full strength, plus experience from last time: clearing floor 1 would be a breeze. Brimming with confidence, Isana re-entered floor 1.

While Isana hustled in her own way, I wasn't twiddling my thumbs.

I lack direct combat skills too.

I could win in bed, but in a fair fight? No way I'd beat Isana with a weapon—not as I was now.

Give it a little more time, and I might lose there too... but thanks to the Thousand-Year Prison...

Back on modern Earth, bank accounts and mortgaged homes built a man's confidence. Here? Personal strength was it. I couldn't stomach getting pushed around by scrubs after reaching floor 99. Time for countermeasures.

First, master basic magic perfectly.

Alchemy could wait—basics first. Can't multiply without addition and subtraction. My head held 6-circle+ spell knowledge, but my body couldn't cast it. By "body," I meant mana circles, not physical training.

While Isana scraped by on odd jobs, I headed to the Heavenly Tower to form my mana circles. The Heavenly Tower meant the four towers for mages: smaller spires at the city's cardinal points. Amateur enthusiasts' mockups of the real "Tower." Built to study the almighty "Tower god"... though one, the Celestial Tower, bordered on a cult. That was my spot. Astronomy and alchemy scholars gathered there. Its cultish vibe meant Tower faithful got leeway for any research.

"Lots of similar signs around here."

"Which one do I go into?"

Every shop flaunted the Heavenly Tower seal—astrology joints and potion peddlers galore. Newbies panicked, but I spotted the goblin couple blocking the way and showed some courtesy.

"Anywhere's fine."

"Huh...? They're all the same?"

"Run by Heavenly Tower alchemists or astrologers—basically identical. Pick what catches your eye."

The Heavenly Tower churned out certified alchemists via rigorous tests. Any with the seal delivered basics. Prices varied, that was all.

For me... gotta be Summer's Grand Triangle.

Enter the Heavenly Tower, and you'd grind years away like a foreign factory drone: work-eat-booze-sleep, mastering basics. I'd actually done a year and a half before lucking into a good master and escaping that hell.

No need this time.

Best way to form mana circles? Find a master. So-called geniuses did it solo, but I wasn't one. That's why I chose alchemy over combat magic, capping at 6 circles right before what folks called the tower's end—floor 99.

Summer's Grand Triangle was the workshop run by my old magic master. Not just potions—magic tools too. Her secret arts let me craft gear to clear floors: black flames "Amaterasu" that burned things to ash; autonomous defense/offense drone "Dragoon"; "Life of Vessel," splitting souls into objects for resurrection.

Show up begging discipleship? She'd refuse.

But she'd need help. Tower World ran on labor shortages—everyone knew climbing was the meta.

And sure enough, a tattered parchment by the door screamed "Help Wanted"—frayed like it'd been up forever.

Shop's still intact?

When I'd first apprenticed, she mentioned a disaster about a year prior: massive losses, shop wrecked, customer critical, her own mana circles damaged.

Before that incident, then?

Should I intervene if it happened? I pondered. Change set fate? Risk a future totally off-script? Answer was obvious. With a regressor like me around, the future had to change. Just act on gut! Hope it didn't derail too bad.

"Excuse me. Saw the help wanted—here to apply."

A bobbed blonde ponytail, round glasses, cool blue eyes piercing me—skin so pale and smooth it was eerie.

"...Hold on, wait there?"

She was explaining potion warnings and tool usage to a customer. I eyed the display: magic guns firing spells as bullets, acid-rain potions, ghost-seeing glasses. Even bombs warping space with barriers via dimensional refraction. Alchemist mainstay: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠potions. Healing pots boosting cell regen for rapid recovery—must-have for climbers.

...Kept them perpetually out of stock, desperate for recipe drones.

"This is a reverse-gravity bomb. Inverts gravity, sends you floating skyward."

The customer demoing it? That goblin couple who'd blocked the path. I perked up at the intriguing specs. Reverse-gravity bombs reminded me of floor 70 experiments. Heard wild rumors pairing them with gravity bombs made black holes—tried it, and damn if it wasn't true. Short-lived, meaningless burst, but real.

"Give it a pop. Not high power—safe for testing."

"Really okay?"

The goblins triggered the reverse-gravity bomb. Gravity flipped just enough to lift their feet an inch.

"Whoa..."

Good reaction fired her up as alchemist. "Try a few more. It's fine."

"You try one too."

The goblin couple set them off in sequence—one blue, one red. The instant I saw it, her face drained white. I went hm? then screamed shit inside.