The Spear That Pierces Heaven
…What the hell is this?
Kang Mu-hyun thought as he sprinted after Park Ji-hoo.
They were strong? He already knew that. He had seen it countless times on the lower floors: Seong Yujin and the three who followed him stood on a level that made any comparison with himself feel absurd. Even so, he had never imagined it would be this extreme.
To his eyes, the Holy Dragon was an enemy that simply could not be fought head-on. At the very least it demanded dozens of players swarming it together—and even then the cost would be catastrophic. Half the group dead, or if luck turned sour, nearly everyone. That was the scale of casualties he had expected. Yet these people were different.
Moments ago the crisis had been absolute. The light the Holy Dragon unleashed was something no defense Kang Mu-hyun possessed could have stopped. Kim Jihye and Lim Ayeong were the same. Both women were strong, but only among ordinary players. They could never be placed on the same plane as those three.
Lee Sia. Park Ji-hoo. And Vivian.
Kang Mu-hyun could not measure them. “High level” or “strong” were words that fell short. There was something beyond that. Lee Sia laughing with half her body blown away, Park Ji-hoo reducing a boss monster to pulp with nothing but his fists, Vivian standing still and delivering healing skills at the perfect instant every single time.
Those aren’t human.
All he could feel was awe. Everything he had built up until now suddenly looked shabby. The spear in his hand, Dawn [C], felt heavy.
Do I even have the right to wield this?
Wouldn’t handing it to one of them be more useful? The thought rose unbidden.
No. I can’t.
Kang Mu-hyun shook his head hard. He refused to drown in defeat. No matter how crushing the sense of inferiority became, he would not abandon faith in himself. Doing so would also betray the companions who had trusted him and followed him this far.
His grip tightened around the shaft.
He was still lacking. The road ahead was long. But nothing I’ve done until now has been wrong.
Instead of measuring himself against others, he would focus on his own growth. One step, then another. Someday—
I can catch up.
A deep, resonant hum rose from Dawn [C]. Mana that had flowed into it of its own accord answered him. It was a pleasant vibration—the same power that had always stood at the front, shielding his comrades and punching through every enemy in their path.
Kang Mu-hyun’s feet moved faster. Little by little, then faster still. Before he realized it he had overtaken Park Ji-hoo, whose fists were flashing like lightning, and then Lee Sia, whose twin blades danced with fluid grace.
And then he thrust.
It was the same piercing strike he had drilled countless times, even cutting into his rest hours.
Tongcheon [D]
A spear that pierced the heavens punched a hole clean through the shining star.
The Holy Dragon collapsed.
Its scales had been shredded by flame-wreathed blades, its bones pulverized by heavy fists, its luminous hide scorched by lightning. The finishing touch was the gaping hole through its skull.
The colossal body slammed into the earth with a thunderous crash. The twelve stones tumbled free in a clattering rain. The light was gone. All that remained was the cooling corpse of a lesser dragon species sprawled across the ground.
“Hah… hah…!”
“Holy shit, that was actually…”
The two who had fought on the front line gulped for air. Even Vivian, who had stayed in the rear, wiped sweat from a thoroughly exhausted face. Thankfully no one had died or been seriously hurt—not the 3 No, and not Kang Mu-hyun’s group either. All of it was thanks to the 3 No’s efforts. Crises had come more than once, yet Park Ji-hoo had drawn the monster’s attention, Lee Sia had covered them, and Vivian had healed. The others could not have gotten hurt even if they had wanted to.
I can’t tell if they grew up well or not.
If it had been Yujin, he would have paid only the slightest attention to Kang Mu-hyun and ignored the rest of the hangers-on completely. That would have been more efficient. Discard the expendable and keep only the necessary talent—that was Yujin’s most reliable method for conquering the Tower. The 3 No, however, seemed cut from different cloth.
The seventh-floor quest must have left a deeper mark than I thought.
After a brief moment of reflection Yujin simply shrugged.
Well, they killed it, so whatever.
Had they failed he might have said something. In the end they had taken the Holy Dragon down, and the finishing blow had even come from Kang Mu-hyun’s spear tip. Yujin felt no particular urge to scold or lecture.
Speaking of which… that guy.
His gaze settled on the utterly spent Kang Mu-hyun. The skill that had drilled a hole through the Holy Dragon’s skull was Tongcheon [D]. Despite the grandiose name that claimed it could pierce even the heavens, it was only D-grade. Yujin knew the skill well; it could be used with a sword as easily as a spear. He himself had learned it in the first timeline.
Was I ever able to draw out that much power with it?
He dug through his memories. The answer was no. Even Yujin in his thirties could not have produced that kind of force against a Holy Dragon—not without every buff and item stacked on top of him. Kang Mu-hyun had done with pure skill what Yujin himself had never managed.
Impressive.
Once again he was reminded just how extraordinary the man who would one day be called Chiyou truly was.
Good thing I put him in my debt.
He had given him Dawn [C], carried him on the bus, even let him join a boss hunt. After bestowing that much favor, repayment was inevitable. Everything Yujin had seen of Kang Mu-hyun’s character said so.
A sly grin crept across his face unbidden—a smile thick with calculation.
There’s no such thing as free goodwill, after all.
Of course not.
Yujin started walking, the freeloader, the junkie, and the other three trailing behind him.
“I almost fell asleep waiting. You lot still have a long way to go.”
The carrot was nowhere in sight; only the whip cracked. Naturally, pushback came—from Lee Sia.
“What do you want me to do about it? If you’re that impatient, go run yourself.”
Admirable, really. Yujin ignored her completely and turned to Park Ji-hoo.
“Your footwork’s gotten pretty decent. Situational judgment’s quick too. But that’s all. If you’d put proper weight behind your fists, the crisis never would’ve happened in the first place. You know that, right?”
“…Yes.”
It was not empty scolding. If Park Ji-hoo’s punches had carried just a little more mass, the Holy Dragon would never have found the opening to unleash Supernova [B]. Its bones would have been screaming too loudly for it to think of anything else.
“Same goes for you. You land one good hit and then space out, so of course your whole body gets launched.”
This time the target was Lee Sia. Severing the leg with Black Flash [D] and breaking the dragon’s stance had been fine. That was where it ended. She had completely failed to read the Holy Dragon’s intent. If she had sensed how it would move ahead of time, she would never have been thrown into that kind of danger.
Lee Sia pouted. This time, though, she offered no real protest. She knew perfectly well what she had done wrong.
Last of all—
“Whitey. You.”
The white-haired beauty stared blankly at him. Yujin hesitated for a beat under that gaze before continuing.
“…You’ve still got plenty of money left, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re good.”
There was nothing to lecture her about. She had performed too well to criticize. Whether it was thanks to Super Spacetime Information Collector [C] or simply innate judgment, Vivian had cast every heal and every attack at flawless timing without a single error. Even Yujin, watching from the side, had been impressed by the precision. He could not find a single nit to pick even if he wanted to. All he could do was acknowledge it.
“Tch.”
In any case, the scolding ended there.
“Still, you were decent enough. I figured you’d almost die a few more times, but this is acceptable. Of course you’ll have to do better from here on.”
Coming from Yujin’s personality, that was first-class praise—though no one else would have seen it that way.
“Let’s head up for now. We’ll rest a bit on the twentieth floor.”
Yujin strode ahead at an unhurried pace, making for the twentieth floor—the Dream Garden.
“Can you hear me? This is Didascalia.”
The grotesque, twisted angel—one of the Tower’s thirteen Administrators—tapped his ear as he spoke.
“What’s the matterrr?”
“Speak.”
“Has something entertaining happened again? Otherwise you wouldn’t have reason to call me.”
“Let’s kill them! We just kill them, right? I’m done waiting!”
As always, only the chatterboxes answered. The silent ones merely listened and rarely opened their mouths.
Didascalia bared his crooked teeth and continued.
“Players have already reached the twentieth floor, you see.”
“Alreadyyy?”
“Hooh. How impressive.”
“You called me for something that trivial? A bit fast, certainly, but hardly important enough to disturb my rest.”
“Kill them on the twentieth floor!”
“The problem is their levels. Four of them have already passed fifty and are nearly at sixty.”
That was abnormal. Around the twentieth floor most players hovered near level thirty. These numbers were almost double. As an Administrator of the Tower, he could not simply overlook it.
“Uhh? That’s a little…?”
“Hah. Remarkable. I’ve never seen such speed. Perhaps that irregular you mentioned before.”
“Even so, it changes nothing. Still too insignificant to hold my interest. Do not summon me for such trifles again.”
“Sounds fun! Let’s kill the level-sixties!”
“Unfortunately I already confirmed they are not regressors, but they are irregulars without a doubt.”
Didascalia sighed. Had they been regressors he would have disposed of them on the spot. Even after managing the Tower for countless ages, he still could not understand how they were leveling and climbing at this pace. Yet he could no longer afford to simply watch. At this rate Seong Yujin’s ascent to the hundredth floor was a foregone conclusion. Some form of restriction had to be applied. A game that was too easy ceased to be fun.
“As you all know, the twentieth floor is the Dream Garden—also called the Treasury of Opportunities.”
Countless opportunities lay hidden on the twentieth floor. It was a floor that could instantly elevate a player’s standards, and at the same time a space of sweet temptation.
“I intend to trip them up here. If possible I’m even considering disposal. Does everyone agree?”
“Howww?”
“In the Dream Garden it should be more than possible to hold their ankles. Not a bad proposal.”
“Do as you please. You need not report every step of the process to me. The result is the same.”
“I wanna do it! Pick me!”
The responses were positive. Didascalia’s twisted smile deepened. The silent Administrators had offered no objection either, so it was safe to treat the matter as unanimous consent. He nodded and delivered the verdict.
“I will begin sanctions against Player Seong Yujin, Player Lee Sia, Player Park Ji-hoo, and Player Vivian. It should prove quite entertaining, so do watch.”
The Dream Garden.
There, at last, the Administrators who had only ever observed began to intervene.