It's Gacha Time

"Hah... what a life."

The hotel room sat empty in the dead of night, save for me. Beneath the luxurious amber glow of the lamps, something like a stag's antler gleamed a brilliant, snow-white.

This was the horn I'd received from Sawol in lieu of what she'd originally promised me. Its grade was a full 5-star — the finest thing I'd obtained to date. It was also a reward that had absolutely nothing to do with what I'd actually wanted.

"Well. Getting this much is better than nothing, I guess."

I had no intention of grabbing someone who didn't want it and forcing the issue, obviously. A woman who offered up her body at a first meeting? That would have been the undesirable version of her, if anything. She'd given me a 5-star item as a substitute, so I could afford to be magnanimous and let it go.

I was absolutely not rationalizing after getting turned down.

"Aigoo. Guess I should just be happy I picked up another summon."

Truth be told, I understood where Sawol was coming from. I still remembered the look on her face from when we'd first met in the Tower. She'd been all bright smiles and easy jokes, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠laying on that shameless, slippery charm — but she'd looked desperate.

In that brief silence, while I was still weighing whether to take her on as a summon, there hadn't been a scrap of composure left in her eyes. What I'd seen there was longing, and a raw, restless anxiety. Life in the Tower must have been unbearably lonely for her.

"I'm letting this slide because I'm a nice guy. Seriously."

She was the first summon I'd contracted with directly rather than through the skill, so I figured I could overlook it. Just this once.

"But how did she even know about Celestial Summoning?"

It wasn't particularly strange for NPCs or monsters inside the Tower to occasionally become named entities with a sense of self. Uncommon, sure, but it happened now and then on every difficulty. For something inside the Tower to know the exact name of my skill, though? That was a pretty strange thing.

"I'll have to ask her about it the next time I summon her."

Having sorted through my thoughts, I lay down on the bed. More pressingly — how was I even supposed to use this right horn? There were no instructions. No listed effects. It was bone either way, so maybe I could just simmer it into some stock.

"Well. I have to admit, touching it does feel pretty nice."

I ran my fingers over the horn, lost in idle thoughts, and just as Sawol had said, it did make me feel better. Like tracing your fingertips over smooth, glazed porcelain. I was just about to make a friend of that snow-white horn and drift off to sleep when I heard a presence outside the hotel room door.

"Knock knock."

"Mr. Han Yuseong, are you in?"

"The hell? At this hour?"

It was eleven at night. Far too late for room service or hotel staff. And the woman outside had said "knock knock" out loud with her own mouth. A genuine lunatic had come calling, by the sound of it.

"Who is it?"

I cautiously peered through the peephole, and a familiar face came into view.

"It's Ihwa of Cheonhyung. We ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spoke last time."

The woman who'd offered me a staggering twenty billion won a year to join Cheonhyung. Ihwa, huh. First I was hearing of it.

"You never actually told me your name when we met."

"Huh? Isn't it written on my business card?"

"You didn't give me a business card either."

"...W-well, the truth is, my business card isn't something just anyone can receive, so I didn't give you one."

Same airheaded act as the last time we'd met. Honestly, this woman was part of the reason I didn't want to join Cheonhyung in the first place. Joining them would mean working alongside people like her. Still, I figured I should at least hear her out, so I opened the door and let her in.

"I've come back because there were contract terms I failed to mention last time."

"At eleven at night?"

"I apologize."

"Hah... whatever. Just tell me what you want."

Unlike last time, something about her demeanor had grown distinctly more confident. Had she come back with better terms and a corresponding boost of self-assurance?

"Based on your reasons for declining membership, I've brought a better offer."

"And that would be?"

"Cheonhyung is planning to secretly establish a new guild. We'd like you to become its second-in-command."

The explanation she delivered without taking a single breath for a full ten minutes was, in the end, fairly simple. Cheonhyung was going to sponsor a legitimate, public-facing guild, and they wanted me in as vice-guildmaster. It was a genuinely decent offer, and I couldn't deny it had some appeal.

"Why do you keep glancing at your phone?"

"I have to read off the script so I don't make mistakes."

"...Right."

I'd just witnessed something a little strange, but I decided to let it go. As for my answer to this new contract she'd brought...

"I decline."

"Pardon?"

"I said no."

This was a contract I couldn't afford to accept. An ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠offer this extravagant had only come my way because they believed I was worth that much. Cheonhyung had probably figured I was a high-ranker in the Tower of Extremity. Of course, I wasn't just a high-ranker — I was rank one. But in my case, that didn't mean quite what it sounded like.

What am I supposed to do without my summons?

Some lunatic who'd dumped a mountain of gear on the Association and then started spewing a Thunder Dragon in a cafe? From a certain angle, I probably looked like a pretty capable new ranker — the kind of prospect you'd want to recruit. The problem was that my own personal combat power was downright pathetic. If I joined an organization like this in my current state, I'd get walked all over by the underlings.

I'll join a guild eventually. Just not now.

I needed to hold out until at least the 10th floor — the so-called second awakening point for hunters. I was still a rookie who hadn't even been awakened for half a year. This offer was premature. A polite refusal was the right call.

"Whether it's above-board or underground, the contract terms are basically the same, aren't they?"

"There would be various benefits, such as access to the auction house and awakened-equipment workshops..."

"I can get all of that through the Association."

There were plenty of advantages to guild membership, sure, but none of them were urgent for me right now. Gear and the like I could already self-supply through Celestial Summoning.

"Anything else?"

"...A beautiful secretary?"

"Please see yourself out."

And with that, the second round of negotiations with Cheonhyung came to an end.

Another day came and went, and the clear rankings for the Tower of Extremity refreshed once more.

I was still the only one who'd cleared it, so the ranking window had nobody's name on it but mine. The public's reaction to that sight was... well, about what you'd expect.

"My identity, huh..."

Looking at people's reactions, I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel good. When they were holding me up as the best there was, how could I possibly hate it? Which was why, deep down, I had a wish of my own to stand before the public.

"Which means I have to get stronger."

The work I needed to put in to get what I wanted was simple enough. Clear the 10th floor, and make myself strong enough that nobody could lay a finger on me. Most people in this situation would start a special training regimen. I was a little different.

"Skill activate. Celestial Summoning."

The moment I murmured the words, the familiar summoning interface flashed into existence before my eyes. Unlike last time, the limited banner wasn't showing the True Ancestor — a new summon called the Ultimate Golem had taken its place.

Does the banner rotate every time I pull a summon?

Either way, today was gacha day. I'd been planning to spend the 6,000 carats of diamonds I'd obtained last time, but today there was a special variable in play. Namely, the pendant resting in my palm, set with a blue gemstone. An S-grade artifact I'd received as a reward from the last dungeon.

Single-use, and only five seconds of luck at that. I was going to put my hopes on that fleeting window — just long enough for a single 11-pull. I could always save it for later, but things like this had a way of rotting in your inventory if you hoarded them, right?

"Activate."

I'd climbed the Tower fast so far, but that had all been thanks to my summons. Now it was time to start building my own strength as well. Trusting in the greatest luck I had going for me, I activated the pendant in my hand.

Alright. Let's pull a 6-star.