Tower Break - Ice Dragon Skazaha

"Skazaha, huh?"

With synchronization still active, EX-grade mana coursed through my body. Right now, in this moment, I was officially classified as a hunter.

I could now enjoy the 'system messages' that only hunters had access to—something I'd never seen back when I was an unawakened mana-less nobody.

Ding-!

A familiar golden system window from Lost Honor overlaid the red warning alert from reality, filling my vision.

"Just as I thought. The moment Skazaha shows up in reality, a subjugation quest pops immediately in the game too."

My eyes lit up as I scanned the rewards.

Achievements. In Lost Honor, these were the real treat. Complete special, unique goals, and you'd unlock achievements that handed out rare, one-of-a-kind rewards you couldn't get anywhere else.

Unlocking the Hallway of Constellations achievements? My veteran Lost Honor instincts screamed it: this was a spec-up system tied to the Hallway.

'Jackpot! And a possession ticket ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠refill to boot. Perfect.'

"Heh."

No reason to turn down rewards like that. The quest objective was a bit odd, though.

'Me, personally subjugating Skazaha?'

Skazaha was a pushover that Han Seol-ah had crushed easily in my world. With the Genesis-grade staff Eternal Winter in her hands, taking it down shouldn't be an issue at all. So why was the quest demanding my direct involvement?

Instead...

"Five days."

The break cycle had shrunk from 30 days. That was the real problem.

Han Seol-ah and the power of Eternal Winter could handle any boss, no sweat... but...

"Can they hold out?"

The issue was keeping South Korea's entire population in combat readiness that whole time.

"They could block a few... but if it drags on, it'll be a nightmare."

That must be why the system flagged it as a 'crisis of annihilation' and threw the quest my way.

"Whatever. Rewards are sweet, so thanks for the quest."

The situation was clear now. The only answer was to climb the Tower.

Han Seol-ah holds off the imminent Skazaha while I climb and solve the root problem. Perfect division of labor.

For that, I needed to get stronger.

"Whoa, this manastone's a big one."

First step toward that: picking up the manastone from the ogre variant I'd just killed.

A mysterious, mist-spewing rock at the spot where the ogre died. Manastones—the universal energy source since the dawn of the hunter era.

Size of an adult man's head. Two ways to handle it.

One: Hand it to the Hunter Association for contribution points. Legal, hassle-free from collection to settlement, and you could spend the points freely on anything from food to hunter gear. Best option right now.

But nah.

Reason's simple.

"I'm unawakened."

I'd lived like a non-human. Couldn't even get national ID, let alone register with the Association. Register now? What do I say when ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they ask where I've been all this time?

So, option two. Illegal.

Risks everywhere from collection to cash-out. And even after all that, the shops gouge you with insane markups.

The Black Market.

Or, the black market.

"Hello."

A true VIP like me gets the royal treatment.

"Got some stuff to sell."

"Yeah. A manastone."

Clatter! Thud! Noises erupted from the other end.

'That surprising?'

Ah, right. I'd only ever bought from them before. First time selling.

...Yeah, it'd be weird if the guy who only bought rice suddenly tried selling something.

Lost Honor was a truly great game. It kept me fed for ten long years, when I couldn't even do basic outside activities or economy stuff.

Astonishingly, selling items at Lost Honor's auction house got you coins deposited for Black Market use.

I bought food with those coins. Splurged occasionally too.

That's how I earned VIP status.

'...Sounds fancy, but it's nothing special.'

I knew there were 'real elites' above called 'Numbers,' so gotta stay humble.

"You're coming?"

"...Really?"

First I'd heard of Black Market house calls.

"Fair enough."

"Hm."

Location, huh. All my Black Market deals so far went to Kim Cheol-su's place.

Cheol-su's routine—out mornings, back late nights—made it easy to exploit. Plus, hiding in plain sight next door? Smart.

But for something this big and risky? No way I wanted to use that address.

'Don't want them thinking, 'This can't be his real address, right?'

'Hate exposing home, but...'

"I'll come to you."

Problem solved. Flip on sync, zip over, done.

"Yeah. I'll head over."

"Hello?"

"Got it."

"Sure."

Hung up and waited. Ding. Text with the market address.

"Huh."

'Next neighborhood over? Close.'

No hesitation. Headed home, refreshed sync time, grabbed the manastone, and leaped into the air.

The market was illegal, but bigger than the Association.

Even if nations fell, Associations vanished, admin collapsed—people on that land wouldn't all die out.

Their only lifeline: earn market coins, buy survival goods through the market.

Markets existed everywhere you'd think, 'No way, right?'

Crack down because illegal? That'd mean abandoning humanity in this hell. No one dared.

Of course, doomed Korea had one too. Black Market Korea branch.

Should've died ages ago, but clung on with unnatural tenacity.

A land everyone thought extinction loomed.

"Our branch tops the quarter again. What a joke."

But amusingly... Black Market Korea never lost the profitability #1 spot among all branches.

...Simple reason.

One 'madman.'

Kang Hyo-jun, Korea branch manager, stared at the transaction log.

"...Why the hell buy calorie sticks with coins?"

Calorie sticks: free daily system rations. Go to the neighborhood center if you need more.

But this nut buys them with precious market coins.

'Criminal?'

Nah, bottom-feeder life didn't fit—coins never ran dry.

Thanks to him, Korea branch pulled miracle alchemy from nothing.

His codename: 'Alchemist.'

Kang Hyo-jun scrolled the mouse wheel.

'Sticks, sticks, sticks... frozen chicken, sticks...'

Aside from occasional cheap frozen chicken, pure calorie stick madness.

'What kinda freak is this?'

Alchemist's identity? Unknown. Black Market rule: no customer info.

...But upper echelons wanted everything except that—habits, patterns, cycles. Analyze every move.

"No 'sales' today either. Weird."

Weirdest: Never sold a thing.

So where'd endless coins come from?

Everyone wondered. But 'Market,' the overall boss, insisted legit issuance—no details.

Even warned doubters:

'Market,' who bossed even arrogant 'Numbers' worldwide, groveled only for him with absolute protection.

'What the hell is this guy?'

Riiiing-!

"Gah, shit!"

Kang Hyo-jun jumped at the sudden ring. Ten years in Korea branch—no calls on this line before.

"...?"

Two devices he'd set for Alchemist: this was the 'sales' one.

Gulp.

'No way?'

Alchemist selling?

He snatched it up.

"We've been waiting, VIP."

Crash!

'Impossible!'

Brain-zapping shock. He bolted up, desk junk clattering unnoticed.

He echoed blankly.

"...You're selling?"

This was huge.

Sales differed from buys. No coin deposit and delivery—manager verifies goods personally.

So...

'I meet the Alchemist.'

Whatever he sold, didn't matter. Market's sole VIP! He'd uncover the identity.

Value? Incalculable. Vultures eyeing connections would go nuts.

'...?'

Spinning brain froze.

'Misheard?'

Manastone? Only from Tower 50+ floors, or gate boss 80+. In lifeline-starved Korea, export attempt = instant execution. That manastone?

"Pardon?"

'...This psycho!!! Treating manastones like roadside pebbles.'

"I-I'm coming to you now."

'Shit.'

Mental slip from the insane proposal.

Alchemist famously stonewalled info probes. Kang had tiptoed carefully...

"Y-yes. First sale special, and manastone hauls usually get house calls."

'Fucked up.'

Lame excuse! He caught the loaded pause before "really."

—I don't buy it.

Frantic excuses, but Alchemist was firm.

'...'

Kang's jaw dropped.

Branch locations: ultra-secret. Never divulge, even under threat.

Why? Each housed 'Market's Achilles heel'—secret tools never to be exposed.

Yet...

'Asking for Market location?'

Refuse? Violates [Don't upset VIP].

Worse...

'...This monster would find it anyway.'

No need to poke the beast.

"...I'll text the address."

"Please keep it from leaking..."

Best he could do.

Firm voice, call ended.

"Haaah."

Kang slumped in his chair.

'One slip, breaks Market taboo by asking location.'

Meant he'd storm HQ over hurt feelings and trash it!

True to Alchemist. No mercy.

"Fuuu."

Lit a smoke.

"Gonna die, seriously."

Calm nerves with a slow cig to the filter.

Then planned.

"When do I clean this mess."

Alchemist coming. Tidy office... seal basement secret door tight...

Knock knock.

"?"

Sudden knock ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠froze him standing.

"You there?"

"Huh?"

Unfamiliar yet familiar male voice.

'Already?'

"No time, coming in."

Crack! Door froze solid.

Bam! Shattered.

Through ice shards, a man entered. Wearing a creepy, grinning plastic clown mask from a corner store.

'P-psycho bastard...!'

Eerily cheerful mask clashing with disaster-level mana pouring out—Kang stopped breathing.

I'm in a rush.

Mana-thrifty flight took ~2 minutes. Manastone deal must wrap in 4.

Forced the locked door.

'Ugh, filthy. Smells like smokes.'

Room pigsty—insult to pigs. Trash bins overflowing paper...

Habitual scan: no windows. One chair. One desk. Rest... garbage.

Mostly papers scrawled [Calorie Stick Purchase].

'Calorie sticks? This guy's a fan too?'

Market managers are weirdos, huh. Obsessed enough to scribble that much?

Stairs to basement caught eye.

'Interesting.'

Only clean spot. Frequent use traces everywhere.

'This is camouflage. Real deal below.'

...Then spotted the smoking man.

Neat hair. Intellectual horn-rims. Thick brows, tight lips. Toned body. Perfect crime flick henchman—'bad guy' type.

Super dangerous vibe. Mana waves near S-rank.

'Seen some kills, human or beast.'

Normally? Avoid eye contact, bolt.

But not now. Sync on.

"Selling a manastone."