Named (3)

In the end, I'd gotten what I wanted this time too. It was like I'd already laid two foundations for evolving one step ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠further down this new path.

"This ability..."

"It'll help with quicker, more instinctive movements—and above all, it can synergize with some higher-tier abilities."

I wasn't the only one who'd claimed this reward. Shadis, who'd overcome the trial alongside me, had received it too.

I was already maxed out, forced to discard old abilities to make room for new ones, but for a challenger at the 30th layer, even a single D-rank ability was precious. Shadis probably felt like her combat prowess had leaped forward dramatically.

What about Shadis, though?

As I pondered the fan gallery users for a moment, a spark of curiosity ignited in me.

I was going to all this trouble, even descending to the lower layers myself, just to tap into the constellations' knowledge. But what if someone grew efficiently from the start, guided by their wisdom? How far could they go?

Sure, plenty of them didn't seem like the type from the way they talked, but they were the ones who could trash-talk everyone above me, including the top-ranked Jeong Chan-su.

It was almost a joke, but they dismissed powerhouse spirit summoners as mere supporters and tough warriors as basic tanks. With a fan gallery full of people like that, I couldn't exactly reveal its existence to just anyone—which made dragging people like Kim Ji-eun back down from above with one excuse or another a nightmare, even now.

They'd be better off if I got stronger and helped them out instead.

But Shadis? She only had climbing ahead of her. She could plot a smoother path and follow it with ease.

"No thoughts on trying the tower again?"

"You helped me out big time today, but honestly... I don't know. If you leave, I'll be on my own again."

Shadis flinched at my words, but I caught a new emotion flickering in her awkward smile: hope.

"Wh-why won't you take this?"

"Payment for throwing yourself into that last fight to back me up."

After escaping the dungeon, I'd reclaimed the gear I'd lent her—but not the dagger. When she asked, stunned, why not, I chuckled.

"But I still owe you for my sins..."

"Consider that debt settled by you trusting me before then."

She'd satisfied me, so I'd call it even. It wouldn't fetch much by my standards anyway, and it'd just take up inventory space.

"Next, I'm heading to the 35th layer. If you decide to give it another shot, meet me there and wait. Who knows? We might team up again."

I tipped her off about my next destination—a secret from everyone but the fan gallery ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠constellations. I'd done everything I could; now it was her choice.

Time to rest up and head back upstairs.

My steps felt light under the blood-red sunset as I returned to the hotel. Realizing that pushing forward like this was luck and a blessing in itself—that was my personal benchmark.

What an amazing person...

Even after the hooded Reina turned, waved, and vanished, Shadis stood there gripping the dagger in both hands, staring at the spot.

In just two days entangled with her, Shadis had revised every thought and prejudice about Reina.

It was all lies. She's even greater and warmer than the rumors say.

To Shadis, her fame and status were underrated, while her personality and demeanor were overhyped. Setting aside her intentions, that unique character and talent drew admiration from upstairs challengers and plenty of Fate Road constellations alike. It was only natural that Shadis, witnessing it firsthand, felt pulled in—especially after receiving direct help and a gift.

"Should I... try?"

Her voice trembled as she gazed at the dagger. It had been ages since she'd fought; the sensation of slicing through monsters still lingered on her hands.

If past events had shrouded her in despair's darkness, Reina had shown her hope's light—proof of what challengers could achieve, and that she had potential too.

35th layer!

Just five more floors, and she'd meet Reina again. Her heart pounded at the thought.

The fear she couldn't shake lingered too, but right now, the desire to see Reina and fight together overpowered it. No time to waste.

Stuck at 30, she'd need to gear up, recruit allies, and conquer each layer's main dungeon to advance.

"Well, if it isn't the dark elf thief. Long time no see."

"Y-you guys..."

But just as she hurried off, people who recognized her blocked her path.

'A few weeks, huh.'

That evening, after her habitual hot bath to unwind, Reina slipped into bed early and checked the community as usual.

As expected, it buzzed with debates on her next move. She'd already been following their discussions and strategies religiously—and planned to keep doing so.

This whole 'reset' she was undergoing was her big-picture gambit, trusting them fully to shatter her limits.

The boards overflowed with posts on all sorts of topics. Even without any massive 'bait,' the volume of threads and comments was hefty—as were the active viewers.

The reason shone right there beside the gallery name: its live ranking, based on user activity and engagement among climber fan galleries.

Reina's gallery ranked high among them. Rankings and gallery spots weren't directly linked, but Reina was effectively a ranker in both.

Bad taste.

Reina eyed the leaderboard with distaste. It wasn't just a list—it fueled pure rivalry among registered users, unaffected by casual visitors.

In other words, its sole purpose was to stoke competition between galleries.

It's not just competition. For us, lives—hell, even bigger stakes—are on the line.

She bit her lip, clenching her fist.

Her all-in battles reduced to someone's pastime? Hardly amusing. Constellations poured in points—even for promotions—but they had choices challengers lacked.

And the pressure: one slip, and pure fans like her manager and contract constellation Serpina would suffer losses and heartbreak.

But contrary to Reina's thoughts, the gallery's culture ran deep. With Fate Road's system—rooted in the tower—pushing rivalry, users had no choice but to ride the wave.

Fandoms didn't collaborate tightly like guildmates; competition was the default. Overheated rivalries sparked brutal fights, and some even reveled in it.

No options for her. She needed the gallery to win—for herself and them—which meant proving it every time.

"Ha..."

At least their goals aligned. Even as a ranker, Reina aimed for the top—and that propped up the gallery's spirit.

More people recognizing me, seeking me out. Posting questions might look sus; maybe throw in some casual shit?

Shoving aside tangled thoughts, she skimmed the lighter posts—off-topic ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stuff she was getting used to—skipping debates and strats she'd already read.

She had to address how her accidental selfies and questions had snowballed her visibility.

Excess attention? Hard pass. Her identity exposed? Unthinkable. Too much spotlight, and some slip-up would get caught eventually.

Then, a fresh post's title snagged her idly scrolling gaze.