What Is Your Name (1)
The item intake process moved with almost absurd efficiency.
"Yes, just leave it there. Yes, yes."
The clerk's eyes held no spark of life, worn dull by the dozens of identical tasks that filled every day. Building a whole marketplace AI and still putting people on grunt work like this—it was almost endearingly Korean.
Still, the work itself is solid.
Despite the dark circles sunk deep under hollow eyes, the sequence from packaging through item verification was flawless. In the blink of an eye the skill book was wrapped and already in the Management Bureau clerk's hands.
Of course, finishing the packaging did not mean the goods went out to the buyer that instant. A piece worth over a billion won was not something you could just dump on a regular courier. For merchandise like this, a special delivery team made up of dedicated Awakeners handled the run.
Looking at it this way, there really are a lot of Awakeners who never bother climbing the Tower.
Awakening did not automatically mean diving into the Tower. Aiming for the top floors and stopping the Tower's collapse was the job of the absolute elite—S-Class and A-Class. Everyone below that mostly looped the lower ten floors, farming magic stones for a living. And E-Class and F-Class Awakeners, for whom even entering the Tower was a struggle, gave up climbing early and sank deep roots into society's infrastructure. Even a rotten herring is still a herring; Awakeners had superior base physical ability, so even simple manual labor made them vastly more efficient than ordinary people.
The Management Bureau clerk I had just met was the same. The presence I felt was unmistakably that of an Awakener, yet he had chosen the life of an ordinary office worker over the Tower.
An office worker, huh.
There had been a time when I, too, after countless failed interviews, gave up climbing and went looking for a job. Though for an A-Class Awakener, the salary guarantee system I mentioned before made even finding ordinary work a nightmare.
Well, that's all in the past now.
Even if I was stuck in a woman's body, I could climb the Tower again. That alone was something to be grateful for.
I don't even feel particularly uncomfortable.
Washing and drying long hair every morning was a royal pain, but beyond that I barely noticed any difference. If anything, ever since I ended up in this body I had felt a strange sense of ease.
Anyway, I sold the magic stones. Everything I needed to do is done.
Delivery only started the moment the buyer deposited the payment. I had handed the goods over to the Management Bureau today, so the earliest a payment-reminder text would go out was tomorrow, and shipping would start tomorrow at best. In other words, even in the best case it would take about three days before the money hit my hands.
So everything I could do at the Management Bureau was finished. Now it was time to climb the Tower.
The first five floors of the Tower were generally called the tutorial section. The reason was simple. From the Tower's overall structure and ecology on the small scale, all the way to the existence of hidden elements on the large—everything an Awakener needed to know going forward was packed in and spoon-fed.
Even accounting for that, Nightmare Floor 5 was completely unhinged.
Of course there were places like Nightmare Floor 5 that went full "You dare challenge the Tower? Then die" and piled on absurd unfairness, but on normal difficulty the curve was mostly gentle. So why bother explaining all this? Because starting from Floor 6, the perceived difficulty changed completely. If everything up to now had been climbing stairs one step at a time—from one to two, two to three—then from Floor 6 the jump roughly doubled.
The simple fact that twice as many monsters appeared played a part, but that was not the main reason for the spike.
"A forest, is it."
The real cause of the difficulty jump: the change in terrain. Until now I had fought them on open plains. Thanks to that I could unleash wide-ranging techniques like the Asura Sword Dance without any trouble and cut goblins down in swathes. Now it was a forest—a dense jungle where thick trees blocked the sun and left everything dim.
"If I took an ambush here, it would definitely be a threat."
Terrain like this was the worst possible place for a longsword. The odds of your weapon catching on a trunk or branch and throwing off your trajectory skyrocketed.
"But that alone is not the end of it."
If it had only been the terrain change, it would have been manageable. The true reason Floor 6's difficulty soared was something else.
That other reason was this:
"Kerek! Human!"
"Kill!"
The monsters finally acquired something called language.
"Kerek! Human! Get out!"
When I took a step forward, the goblins flinched and raised their spear shafts.
"Huh. They really do talk."
Of course the ones on previous floors had had fragments of language—forming crude formations, following a leader's commands. But being able to confirm with my own ears that they actually used speech was a first on Floor 6. Using language meant they had stepped beyond "slightly clever monsters" into the realm of demi-humans. Knowing that in your head and confirming it in person were completely different feelings.
"Then all this time This Seat has been rambling to no purpose."
I had been muttering to myself because they seemed to catch the gist of words—only to find out there were ones who could actually talk properly.
"I feel like I put on a clown show."
I had been making a fool of myself all alone.
"Still, not bad."
Being able to use language was proof their intelligence far outstripped anything before. In that case—
"At last This Seat can hold a conversation."
Of course, the conversation I meant was the dialogue of martial artists—fists meeting fists, blades crossing blades, ideals and convictions colliding. In other words, a life-or-death duel.
"So until now it could not truly be called a life-or-death duel."
It had been nothing more than simple slaughter, or a bit of light entertainment. But now it was different. They could finally open their mouths and clearly state their will.
"Very well. This Seat will ask. What is your name?"
At last a true life-or-death duel was possible. I stared hard at the goblin standing at the front, quietly looking forward to whatever would come out of that protruding snout.
"Kerek! Human, get out!"
The answer that came back missed my expectations by a mile. The thing simply held its spear high and stayed on guard, with not the slightest intention of giving its name.
"Hm."
But would I give up after a single failure? Throwing a tantrum just because things did not go my way on the first try was not the basic attitude of a martial artist.
"Let us try this properly again."
If they could not understand speech, I would simply teach them until they did. That was the duty of the Heavenly Demon.
"Let us see. One, two, three…"
There were more hiding in the forest, so I could not be sure, but the ones in my field of view numbered about ten.
I heard Floor 6 spawns twenty.
In that case—
"Clearing out one or two as an example should not be a problem."
Acceleration
Mana wrapped my entire body. With a sound like wind being torn, my form shot forward in a single breath to the goblin's face.
"Kerek?"
The stupid little gasp of a startled goblin.
"No. That is not it."
That was not the sound you were supposed to make right now. There was clearly another sound that needed to come out. I reached out and seized the goblin by the throat.
Crunch.
I had only squeezed lightly, yet the goblin's neck snapped without resistance.
"Ah. Damn."
Failed force control. I had forgotten that the Acceleration spell temporarily boosted my overall physical ability.
"Well, it cannot be helped."
There were still nineteen of them perfectly healthy. Dropping one by accident would not hinder the conversation.
"Very well. I will ask once more. What is your name?"
I tossed the now-useless goblin roughly to the ground and turned.
"Kerek!"
The reaction that came back was not much different. Only the breathing had grown rougher. In its own way, it seemed angry that its comrade had died.
"Human! Kerek, kill!"
The goblin at the front raised its voice in a blood-vessel-bursting shriek.
"No. That is not it."
That was not a proper answer. It was nothing more than a beast screaming, so it could not even be called conversation.
"That is not an answer to the question."
Had it never even learned the basic courtesy of answering politely when an adult asked something?
"Kerek!"
Instead of answering, the goblin thrust the spear in its hands with all its strength.
Whoosh—!
At the same time, several arrows flew out of the darkness, aimed at me.
A diversion?
Not bad. The goblins in front were bait to hold my gaze, and the real work belonged to the snipers hidden in the forest.
"However, against This Seat such things are meaningless."
Grab!
I caught the spear shaft charging for my chest bare-handed. There was no need to dodge the incoming arrows.
Ting! Ting!
They could not pierce this body anyway.
"Kerek?"
The creature could not hide its shock. It had never imagined the attack would be stopped. A truly shallow scheme. At any moment one ought to have a Plan B ready for when Plan A failed.
"Do you know of Protective Aura?"
Defense
The Defense magic wrapping my body bounced the goblins' crude arrows without the slightest trouble.
"Very well. I will ask again. What is your name?"
"Kerek! Hu-man! Weird! Human! Crazy!"
Crack!
I put strength into my grip and crushed the spear shaft in an instant.
"…That is not an answer."
"Kerek! Kerek!"
The creature frothed at the mouth and went into a full seizure. Even so, a few more arrows flew at me, not caring in the least whether they hit their own captured comrade.
"Huu."
A long sigh escaped me without thinking. A total mess. There was still a long way to go.
"Correcting this…"
…was the burden the Heavenly Demon had to bear.
Crack!
I drove the broken spear shaft still in my hand straight into the creature's chest.
"Ke…"
It could not even manage a proper death cry before going limp.
"Let us start again. There is plenty of time."
If it did not work, I would simply teach them until it did. I still had eighteen perfectly healthy goblins left. One of them, at least, would give me the answer I wanted.
"Kerek!"
Once again, arrows flew instead of an answer.
"Now then—what is your name?"
I casually swatted aside the oncoming arrows and took another step forward.