Layer 150 (Part 2)
Who the hell are you? I couldn't help but be on guard. After all, my identity was what it was. Plus, these private messages were supposed to be exclusive to admins. That meant this unknown user was some kind of manager from another gallery.
"Lee Se-jin..." I flinched at the sound of her full Korean name. Who was Lee Se-jin? In the story, she was the first talent Jeong Chan-su approached—a key heroine. Stunning looks, overwhelming talent, the youthful age of a high schooler when she entered the tower, that endearing charm from her youth, and unlike the black-hearted Jeong Chan-su, her uniquely upright and righteous personality. She was popular in the work itself, but even more so in reality.
Jeong Chan-su's heroines were the ones who absorbed the fandom he couldn't, forming massive alliance fanbases like sponges—and Lee Se-jin was at the forefront.
This crazy admin didn't hide their intentions. Or maybe I should say it was refreshing how straightforward they were. I froze at the question about switching, just blinking in shock.
I paused my reply for a moment, and whatever they made of that, they kept the chat coming.
They're trying to buy me off with money. Said it so casually, but it hit me hard. Serpina too— was my value really that high?
Should I sell? It was weird thinking that right after dumping a bunch of selfies, but chills ran down my spine anyway. Sure, there were constellations with all sorts of abilities, so maybe it made sense—but what if someone doubted my powers? My true identity could get exposed.
I rushed to end it and closed the messages. My heart was pounding from the shock.
Admin Summoned
This has to be it. After the unimaginable storm passed, I steadied myself and entered the post where I could summon my admin, Serpina. The Lee Se-jin Gallery admin didn't message again, but who knew if something like this would happen down the line.
Damn it, this is why I never made an ID before... I didn't like sticking with a fixed nickname. I'd seen users sniping and fighting too many times. But Fate Road required everyone to use their accounts, and I was stuck with the one I'd chosen.
"Huh?" But the one who responded to my summon wasn't Serpina—it was sub-admin Perbas.
Guess I have no choice. I wanted to talk to Serpina, but Perbas was my contract constellation too, a gallery admin and avid poster. He was just rough around the edges.
As expected, Perbas reacted explosively to my report.
Perbas kept venting his rage-fueled chat, scarred from too many run-ins with the so-called Se-moms—Lee Se-jin's fandom. It was making even me dizzy, so I cut it short before he finished. Was this really the great warrior who'd taught me what ferocity and grit meant?
A wry smile crossed my lips at the question of abandoning myself. I felt nothing special for Lee Se-jin. If anything, I leaned positive. She was a heroine I'd liked originally, and unlike Sylvia, she still greeted me warmly with that same personality, even now in our raid party.
If she were in danger while we climbed together, I'd save her without hesitation. But... using the power I'd built on Fate Road for her? That was a whole different story. In reality, we were comrades conquering the tower, allies in the same boat—but on Fate Road, we were rivals competing for bigger fanbases.
"Phew." I woke briefly from my doze, cracking open another bottle of booze to sip alone. Just enough buzz to avoid the boards and crash hard.
"Guildmaster, message from Se-jin. Looks like she finally snagged that S-rank imprint, Wild Dance of the Broken Blade."
"Good."
Another lone drinker here. Jeong Chan-su set down his glass with melting ice—he was lingering on Layer 55 too. It was the closest to his home world, after all.
"Se-jin and the others have all powered up. Layer 150 is a sure thing."
"I think so too."
Jeong Chan-su was already certain they'd clear 150. Complacency wasn't in his nature, though.
"As foretold, starting from Layer 151, the backdrop changes." Up to 150, the tower's worlds had mirrored real ones—but from here, it shifted. Everyone was speculating, but as someone facing the final 10 layers up to 190, Jeong Chan-su knew exactly what awaited.
Another possibility—an alt world... Once we step in, my knowledge runs out soon. His brow furrowed as he stared into his glass. A regressor's foresight had limits. If he hadn't failed, he wouldn't have returned. The moment he'd dreaded since regressing was closing in—the plunge into the unknown.
Has her heart changed? A cell phone, usable only in Earth-backdrop layers. Unlike real Earth, the tower's system supplied them sparingly. Staring blankly, he pulled up a photo: Reina, arm-in-arm with Kim Ji-eun, strolling along.
A high-end restaurant no randos could enter, yet Reina's face was bare—no sunglasses or hat. But the sender had freaked out sending it to Jeong Chan-su for a different reason: instead of her usual baggy gym clothes (save for armor in battle), Reina wore tight jeans hugging her legs.
You're unpredictable. From the moment we met. Not fixating on those long, slender lines, but the change itself—he studied the photo awhile. He knew everyone around him inside out, but Reina? Still a mystery.
Noble light, unyielding grit, radiant glory. That's what came to mind with her. He couldn't shake the thought: maybe she'd illuminate the uncertain future awaiting him—just as she was uncertainty incarnate.
But Jeong Chan-su's fandom took Reina's changes negatively. Purely because her recent moves screamed popularity grabs, swelling her fanbase on Fate Road.
Some had infiltrated Reina's fan gallery to spy, even approaching users. The Lee Se-jin admin who'd messaged me was one, disguised while lurking.
The biggest ammo in fandom wars? Their challengers' results. Even with fewer fans, higher ranks let you lord over rivals. Tower climbing was king anyway.
Reina's skyrocketing status had die-hard haters gunning for her. No longer a punching bag—she was a real threat. They'd become her perfect antis.
They knew opponents could lurk too, and even within Jeong Chan-su alliance fandoms, opinions split—so no public chatter.