Gunslinger Awakening

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I stared at my awakening trait in utter bewilderment. Gunslinger? This was a medieval fantasy world. Sure, there was magic that mimicked firing projectiles, but the concept of a gun didn't exist here. Swords, magic, maybe a bow at best.

"Who the hell invented guns? No, that's not it..."

The emergence of the Tower had brought magic stones as a new resource, spurring some technological ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠progress. But no one in this world had invented firearms yet.

Shaking off my shock, I examined the details.

A simple, straightforward description. Climbers' traits restricted their weapons—become a greatsword warrior, and you're stuck with greatswords. So I could only use firearms from now on.

"But there are no guns."

What good was that without any? You could get trait-related gear or skills as rewards inside the Tower, but without a gun right now, I couldn't even enter.

Right, I'd heard they gave basic gear on awakening. No one used it because it was crap. This was a medieval fantasy world full of skilled blacksmiths, after all. Everyone preferred their own superior weapons.

But I needed it.

A revolver and 30 rounds. The most basic, iconic handgun—small, pistol-shaped, like those from old Western movies in my past life. You load bullets into the rotating cylinder and spin it for rapid fire. Typically six chambers, so reload after six shots. That's the gun used in Russian roulette, the infamous folk game.

Click-click.

I dry-fired a few times experimentally. The hammer struck the cylinder with a crisp snap, rotating one chamber per trigger pull. Nice grip.

"In my past life, I must've been a crack shot. Probably."

Like any Korean guy, I'd fired guns plenty of times. Memories were fuzzy, but they felt familiar. Never a pistol, but my stance came naturally.

The real question: how effective would it be against Tower monsters? Guns had insane lethality, but unproven on fantasy beasts. If it matched my memories, I could climb without knight-level showboating.

"Only one way to find out."

No hesitation—I'd enter the Tower. Floor 0 was a pre-climb tutorial. Invincible mode against Floor 1's Normal mobs, a test run.

I hit Y without pause. Light engulfed me, vision flipped. When I opened my eyes, I stood in a damp cave lit by wall torches. A goblin grinned and glanced around in the center.

Easy mode: naked goblin. Hard: metal armor and poisoned dagger. Normal: leather armor and notched dagger. Floor 0 mimicked Normal Floor 1 as a tutorial gauge—no damage thanks to a shield.

Kieek!

The goblin spotted me and charged. Its hideous face made me flinch, but I steadied, stance firm. I'd seen rough sights living here. No ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠running from opportunity. And I had a gun.

In front of a gun, all are equal!

Bang!

Trigger pull: recoil, muzzle flash. The shot echoed as the goblin's shoulder spun with a ping. Hole in its crappy leather; blood flowed. Leather saved it from instant death.

I fired again, center mass. It shrieked. Two shots dropped it dead.

"Effective as hell."

Aimed safe for torso—missed heart, but two bullets killed a soldier goblin. Guns worked here, maybe even better. Point and click, monster down. No training like swordplay or spells.

The great equalizer of the modern world. With this, high floors were possible.

Floor 0 rewards: minor EXP and 30 regular bullets. EXP builds to levels—I started at 1. Natives often began higher due to monsters everywhere; they only felt growth on high floors.

"Levels should help Gunslinger too."

Level-ups boosted physical stats, mana, etc. A revelation for this training-obsessed world. Faster reactions and strength wouldn't hurt, even with guns.

Tower rule: one floor per day. Floor 0 exception as tutorial.

"Obviously."

Three bullets dropped a leather-clad goblin. Normal Floor 1 was doable. Y again.

I paused. Committed to climbing, but difficulty mattered.

Static—

The text glitched. Then, beside Hard:

"Hell?"

Ominous name. Never heard of it. Webnovels from my past life: hidden ultra-hard mode for massive gains.

"..."

I pondered the four options. Hell risky, but huge rewards—proven fact. And why show it to me?

My fallen house, my life flashed by. Hand steady as I raised it—like aiming a gun.

Y. Light wrapped me; floating sensation. Eyes open: similar cave, no shield. Mistakes fatal now.

Second thoughts? Shook head. Click-click. Reload practice, then advance. Simple: open cylinder, load. 58 rounds left. No goblin tanks that.

Kiiik...

Goblin cries from darkness—not one or two. Hell: hordes? Aimed revolver into shadows. Visibility poor, torches only. Distance key—shoot first.

Kieek!

Goblins burst from dark. About ten... and one standout ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠among them.

"Hobgoblin!"

Hobgoblin: goblin elite, man-sized unlike dwarfish normals. Chainmail too. It swung machete, charging with pack.

"Kieeek!"

Tongue lolling, hobgoblin closed. Distance good. Fired instantly—target boss first.

Bang-bang!

Two center-mass hits. Crack! Chain shattered; it howled. No dodging bullets here.

"Shrapnel too."

Broken chains embedded. Wound shredded. Chainmail anti-sword, not bullets.

Kept firing. Cylinder spun full circle; hobgoblin collapsed without fightback.

Kieek! Kiik!

Normals panicked at boss fall. Quick reload, gifted them lead. One-shots each. Another reload. Bang after bang, goblin after goblin down.

Done in 1-2 minutes. Just reload and shoot. Two misses. Shooting quick; reloads longer. Dumb charges easy targets.

18 rounds for Floor 1. Minus 2 from 0: 40 left.

"...OP as fuck?"

Revolver broken. Why swordfight? True equalizer—even fantasy mobs equal before bullets. Stronger foes ahead, maybe.