Financial Healing
He was certain.
There was no misunderstanding, no trick of the eye. The white-haired Caucasian woman standing before him was unmistakably a player. One glance at the ornate blue staff strapped across her back was all the proof he needed.
What was that thing called again?
It was an item he remembered. It hovered right at the edge of recollection, teasing him, itching at the inside of his skull—but the name refused to surface. He was sure he had seen it before.
“Hmm.”
Well, that hardly mattered.
The important part is that this woman is a player.
Who the hell was she, to have already reached the fifth stratum? At this pace she was nearly matching Yujin’s own climb from the first timeline. A difference of a few days at most—less than two weeks, easily.
I’ve never even heard of anyone like her.
Up through the fifth stratum, Yujin’s climbing speed had been peerless. He had stalled for a long stretch on the sixth and been overtaken by a flood of other players, but even after that he had torn through the tower all the way to the twentieth floor at a blistering pace. In all that time he had never once laid eyes on the woman in front of him. He had never even heard her name.
White hair. Caucasian. And a beauty of that caliber? Rumors would have spread like wildfire.
Yujin walked over to the still-dazed woman and sat down across from her.
“Hey. Let me ask you one thing.”
His manner was nothing like the careful courtesy he had shown when he first met the Sword Empress. Back then he had made a few mistakes, sure, but he had at least tried to be polite. Not now. He still had no idea whether this white-haired woman was even worth the trouble. If she had never left a single mark on his memories, there was a solid chance she was just another waste of space among the countless idiots in the tower.
The woman he had privately nicknamed Whitey lifted her head.
Empty eyes. Did she even have vision? Her pupils didn’t react at all—blank as a blind woman’s.
Is she zoning out, or is she just simple?
Most people couldn’t hide the smallest physical tell from him. Outside the tower he had read American agents’ thoughts straight off their faces. Yet this Whitey was a complete blank.
She’s definitely not blind, though.
For a split second her eyes had moved—toward Chunbae, dangling from Yujin’s arm. So she could see. The total lack of any other reaction was almost impressive.
“Hello?”
Yujin snapped his fingers. Only then did Whitey’s mouth open.
“Get lost.”
“Huh.”
Her looks and her mouth were a complete mismatch. She sounded exactly like Lee Sia—different race, same attitude.
Should I just leave?
Reaching the fifth stratum this fast was impressive, but this was probably her ceiling. If he didn’t remember her, it meant she had either been useless or died before she ever made it higher. Either way, she wasn’t worth more than a passing interest. And with a personality like that…
Yeah. I’m out.
If he kept her around, she and Sia would form a united front and make his life hell. Guaranteed.
“Fine, fine. I’m going.”
Yujin stood without a shred of regret. He wanted someone a little more sane this time around—not another freak.
But then—
“Wait. Leave the kid on your arm and go.”
“…Have you lost your mind?”
Chunbae? Leave Chunbae? The little glutton who ate everything and spat out whatever he needed, the walking jackpot who could even bring modern gear into the tower? Leave that behind?
“Have you lost your mind?”
He said it twice without meaning to. That was how absurd the demand was.
“You look pretty skilled. Still slower than me, though. I got here first.”
A flicker of pride finally cracked through Whitey’s vacant face.
“Ha!”
Yujin barked a laugh.
“Who got here first?”
“Me. When I arrived, there was no one. You came next. That means I’m stronger than you.”
Ah. So that was it.
She had no idea about first-clear rewards. Of course she didn’t. Every single first clear had gone to Yujin. She had never seen one, never even learned they existed. So naturally she believed being first equaled being strongest.
“Unbelievable.”
Yujin crooked one corner of his mouth.
“If you’re so confident, try and take it. I’ve got zero intention of handing him over.”
He had no plans to make her another subordinate. One more lunatic in the party was the last thing he needed. Still, he was a little curious. What the hell was she, to reach the fifth stratum already—before named players like Ziegort, the Flame Emperor, or the Blade Emperor had even managed it?
Let’s see what she’s got.
He decided to provoke her just enough to get a taste.
She rose in a smooth rustle of fabric. Her deep-brown dress settled around her—expensive, unmistakably high-end.
Loaded, huh?
Probably the outfit she had been wearing when she was summoned. You didn’t wear a dress like that unless you came from money. Even if she had left the tower and come back in it, the same conclusion held: anyone who picked that dress on the way back from this hellscape had cash to burn.
Not that it mattered. Inside the tower, being rich meant nothing. You couldn’t buy items with dollars, and you couldn’t haul goods in from the outside world.
“If I win, you put that down and get out of my sight.”
Her tone alone told the story. She had clearly grown up being waited on hand and foot.
“Fine. And if I win, what do I get?”
A bet only worked if both sides put something on the line. Yujin had no intention of being the only one offering a prize.
“Anything.”
“Anything?”
Dangerous woman. Or else her confidence had gone clean off the rails.
“Deal. You’ll be the one regretting it anyway.”
Yujin snorted and crooked a finger.
“Come on.”
The instant the words left his mouth—
Paang—!
Whitey kicked off the floor and flung herself backward, snatching the blue staff from her back in the same motion.
Lightning Strike [E]
Her voice was as lifeless as her expression. The result was anything but.
Kwagwagwagwagwagwang—!
Black storm clouds boiled across the inn’s ceiling in a heartbeat, and a single colossal bolt of lightning smashed down. The quiet little inn called Pine Hill was obliterated on the spot.
An E-grade skill—but its raw power brushed D-grade. The demerit would be brutal, no doubt. Still, there was no denying its strength… against ordinary players, at least.
“I remember now.”
Yujin, who had already slipped clear of the strike at a speed Whitey couldn’t even perceive, looked at the staff in her hands and spoke.
C-grade
Legendary thunder staff once wielded by the named player Indra
A full C-grade item. Someone outside their group already owned something like that?
No—more importantly:
That’s Indra’s gear.
One of India’s named players, famous for lightning skills and nicknamed after the thunder god himself. So how had it ended up in Whitey’s hands?
Did she get it later… or was she the original owner?
Odds were she had been the first master, and ownership had changed for the usual reason: her death.
“Ha. Never thought I’d see that here.”
He was genuinely impressed. Vajra [C] stood on the same tier as Black Wing [C]. Of course, once Black Wing’s seal broke the comparison would collapse, but right now they were peers. In the first timeline Indra hadn’t even shown the staff until past the fortieth floor. Someone already held it this early?
“How do you know what this is? How?”
Whitey tilted her head, baffled.
“You don’t need to know.”
Yujin ignored the question and drew up a thin thread of mana.
“My turn.”
Her attack power was excellent. Snagging Vajra [C] before the fifth stratum meant her luck was absurd—maybe the Akasha System itself was playing favorites, the way it once had with him. But that was all. He already had more than enough damage dealers. Even setting himself aside, he had the Sword Empress and the Fighting Demon. If those two slaves kept growing the way they were, he would never need another pure DPS.
What I need is a healer.
Without a second thought, Yujin erased Whitey from his mental shortlist.
Thung—.
A tiny vibration, and his body vanished. In the space of a blink he reappeared at Whitey’s left side.
One shot.
No skill. If he used one she would simply burst apart, and there was no need for that. A fist loaded with mana drove straight into her side.
Wooddeuk—!
A few broken ribs felt about right. If she tried to argue afterward it would only be annoying; better to make the gap in strength crystal clear.
“Nngh!”
Whitey let out a short groan and crumpled. Surprise finally flooded those empty eyes, as if she couldn’t comprehend what had just happened to her.
Yujin looked down at her.
“Well? You lose.”
A single blow had shattered six ribs. Not fatal, but not something you simply stood up from, either. Even with a player’s superhuman body she would need days of bed rest at minimum.
“…I lost?”
She stared up at him.
“What, want another round? Can you even move like that?”
Park Ji-hoo might have gritted his teeth and forced himself up. Most people couldn’t. Broken ribs hurt more than people expected, and the experience of someone who had only just reached the fifth stratum was far too short to build the mental fortitude needed to ignore that kind of pain.
At Yujin’s taunt, Whitey’s lips pressed into a thin line.
And then—
“…She’s getting up?”
Amazingly, Whitey rose. Her whole body shook with pain, but she stood. Her willpower was better than he had expected.
“Not bad. But how are you planning to fight like that? Looks like just staying on your feet is hard enough.”
This time it wasn’t mockery. He was genuinely curious. What was she thinking? Did she have some hidden method—or was it pure spite?
Yujin watched her with open interest.
“I’m… not done yet.”
She bit down on her lip as she spoke.
“Then keep coming.”
He crooked his finger again. Whitey lifted a trembling hand. Yujin assumed she was about to fire another lightning blast through Vajra—
Instead her hand vanished into her clothes and came back out holding something completely unexpected.
“Huh?”
The staff had been a surprise. This was worse.
“…Dollars? Actual dollars?”
Which meant Whitey had brought real-world currency into the tower. That alone was enough to make anyone’s jaw drop—but she wasn’t finished.
She flung the thick wad of bills into the air and activated a skill.
Financial Healing [C]
Hwaaaaaaak—!
A radiant cluster of light that somehow smelled of money engulfed her. In an instant her shattered ribs knitted back together.
Yes. Exactly that.
Literal financial therapy.