Gunslinger in a World Without Guns

There's no guns in this world? I bolted upright and shouted.

"Everyone, I did it! I reincarnated!"

"No way!"

It had been a full twenty years since I was born into this world. I recalled my memories from my previous life. I had been an ordinary guy from South Korea. But for some reason, I died young. I couldn't remember the exact cause of death.

My previous world's South Korea had been total chaos. One day, towers suddenly sprang up all over the globe. If you didn't conquer them within the time limit, monsters poured out from inside. That's when Hunters appeared. Hunters climbed the towers, preventing their collapse. It was like something straight out of a web novel becoming reality—I was shocked back then.

But regaining those memories from my previous life didn't change anything special. Why? Because this world was exactly the same.

"They say the Hero just broke through the 72nd floor!"

"As expected of the Hero!"

The stage for my second life was a medieval fantasy world. It had the mystique of swords and magic, a medieval backdrop made conveniently livable thanks to magical advancements. And here too, there were towers scattered across the world. The setup was almost identical to the modern one. You had to clear each floor by slaying monsters or fulfilling conditions. The higher you climbed, the better the rewards and chances to grow stronger. But fail to renew the top floor within the deadline, and the tower collapsed, unleashing monsters.

The one key difference was the people climbing the towers. In this world, they were called Climbers. And this world's Climbers were worlds apart from modern Hunters. This was a world where swords and magic had existed from the start. Even before the towers, there were plenty of powerhouses wielding mystical forces. Like the Hero born in a small kingdom, or his Hero Party companions. Or the Emperor of the Golden Empire, and the knights under him. There were people from the Magic Tower, wandering mages, and non-human races like elves, beastkin, and dwarves. In short, unlike the fresh-faced modern folks, this world was full of inherently strong beings ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from the get-go.

Maybe that's why Climbers cleared the towers so quickly. They shot up the ranks without needing the skills and items from the towers. But the towers weren't that easy. Around the 50th floor, news started trickling in of even renowned powerhouses failing. After that, the difficulty skyrocketed exponentially. From the 60th floor onward, some died, others gave up. And now, progress had slowed to a crawl. The highest cleared floor was the 72nd—and that was just a recent update after months.

The whole world was pouring everything into conquering the towers.

"So what am I supposed to do..."

I flopped down in the garden and let out a deep sigh. It was a garden in name only—a pathetic patch of grass. After the family fell into ruin, we even fired the gardener. Father, the head of the house, used to tend it sometimes, but lately his back had been acting up too much.

My name is Ian Hyger, the eldest son of the Hyger Barony.

"Looking back now, even my name's Ian. Such a cliché."

Regaining my past-life memories made even my name amusing. In web novels, protagonists were always named Ian. There was that one about the Grand Mage Gallery or something—its protagonist was Ian too, I think. At least I was noble-born, but it didn't mean much anymore.

Originally, our Hyger family belonged to the Euroho Federation. It was some loose alliance of minor lords—details didn't matter. What did was how the Federation responded after the towers appeared worldwide.

Countries debated how to handle these arrogant towers threatening to burst if ignored. Responses split into two camps. First: "Hey, a few of you go climb it." Powerhouses like the Empire, Northern Duchies, Magic Tower, and Beastkin Alliance. Second: "It's a demon trick!" or "We're too busy surviving to care." Small fries like the Euroho Federation and tiny kingdoms.

The right answer was the first. Steady climbs kept towers stable. But the second group faced disaster. The towers weren't bluffing. Miss the deadline, and monsters and calamities flooded out. The Euroho Federation was hit first.

Other small nations had at least a few Climbers who tried out of curiosity. Climbers are chosen by the towers—countries can't stop them if they want to climb. But the Federation? Total JOAT. Unlike others who left Climbers alone, they forcibly barred them. Many soldiers and knights got selected as Climbers, but the Federation feared they'd neglect border duties. "Towers? What towers? Man your frontline posts!" They issued a climb ban. Result? Utter annihilation. The Federation vanished from the map.

Neighboring countries swiftly sealed the borders. How did our family survive? Pure luck of location. The Hyger Barony sat right on the border with the Brillroad Empire. When the collapse started, we begged the Empire: "Take everything, just let us in. We'll naturalize, please!"

The Empire, a melting pot from conquests, accepted us into its ranks. They even included our territory inside the seal line. In exchange, we gave everything. Ninety percent of our taxes go straight to the Imperial Palace. Annual specialties, manpower on demand—whatever they want. If the Empire said "Tough luck?" and pulled the seal, we'd be dead. Our family's power couldn't fend off tower collapse fallout alone. That's our precarious existence under Imperial protection.

No room to complain, though. Defending the border guzzles resources. Considering the calamities pushing from collapsed towers, we're getting a bargain.

"Out in the boonies, no business opportunities... When was the last time I had meat?"

That's the Hyger Barony now—nobles in name only. We were a barony, but demoted post-merger per Imperial law. Actually, we used to be a county.

So what if past-life memories returned? They weren't even complete—just "I was a modern guy~."

"No, wait. Maybe develop some food products? Or use illusion magic for a TRPG..."

No giving up yet. I must have some modern knowledge worth using! Worst case, jot down a novel I remember and spread it. Isn't cultural invasion the standard for isekai modern guys raking in cash?

"Nah, forget it. Screwed."

Nothing came to mind. Novels? My scribbles were trash. Food dev? Forgot how to make cola. Illusion game? Can't even use magic. No status screen cheat? Starting from scratch on everything's impossible. Memories incomplete, nothing useful...

"No. Too early to quit."

I steeled myself again. There must be other reincarnators starting from nothing like me. But reality hit hard. The world was obsessed with tower climbing. Earning via other means? Tough.

"No way! Everyone, I did it! I awakened!"

In that do-or-die moment, strings of text floated before my eyes. Was this the Climber awakening everyone talked about? Each nation had a fixed number of Climbers. My awakening meant one other had died. Sorry to them, but opportunity knocked for me.

"Climber awakening... I can do this too!"

Just like Hunter awakening meant life reversal in Korea, Climber awakening was the same here. All thanks to tower rewards. Even Easy mode gave sellable loot for decent cash. But Easy or Normal had clear growth limits. Towers rewarded bigger risks with better prizes. Low difficulty meant meager rewards and slowing growth—eventually outpaced by rising tower difficulty.

"That's for top Climbers anyway."

Whatever, that was for elite tower-toppers. Grinding low floors on Easy still multiplied money.

"But I'm not settling for scrub status."

Not planning to be a low-effort grinder either. Our family needed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more than pocket change to rise. My parents might have rotten luck, but they weren't bad people. If possible, I wanted to restore the Hyger glory. I was ready to pick Hard and aim for top ranks.

"First, check the awakening trait."

Key was what trait I got. Even ordinary folks could get strong depending on it. Best was powerhouses like the Hero awakening, but even normies like me could match them with a good trait—given time to grow.

"Anyway, roll something good!"

I gathered my will, praying for a strong trait. Traits were influenced by the Climber's nature, apparently. Please!

A moment later, the text appeared. Shout "status" and I'd see trait info and Climber details. Here, it's called a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠"Climbing Notebook," but functionally identical to a status window. So I'd call it that, modern sensibilities be damned. All powered by the tower system anyway.

I took a deep breath and checked my Climber trait.

And the name of my trait? Utterly bewildering.

...There's no guns in this world?