Layer 150 Conquest (3)
The conquest of Layer 150 so far could barely be called that—it had stalled at the entrance, against the Black Iron Golems. Nothing grand about it. No one knew what lay beyond those hulking brutes, what gimmicks or traps awaited. Not a single detail had been properly uncovered.
Among the high-grade rewards, there was one called Insightful Vision that let you pierce through a massive dungeon's layout and paths in an instant. But whether it was truly unavailable or just that rare, it hadn't shown up at auction houses.
"That's why we need to prepare for anything. Things haven't changed overall, but just in case. Not knowing doesn't mean less work, though. If anything, we have to prepare even more than what we already know about the dungeon."
Fortunately, Jeong Chan-su, the leader of the Advance Party, already knew about the main Layer 150 dungeon. Using the excuse of preparing for any scenario, he sprinkled clues—some accurate, some vague—across the party to get everyone up to speed.
'Same as always.'
And I knew it just as well. Maybe even better than Jeong Chan-su. On top of what I'd seen in the story, I could keep checking the strategy guides written by Fate Road fan gallery users.
"The size means it'll naturally split into routes, but you think it'll branch again inside?"
"Guess we'll find out firsthand from there."
I kept my expression neutral at Kim Ji-eun's question. According to the missions Jeong Chan-su assigned, after taking down the Black Iron Golems, she and I would head a different way from his group. Of the two routes, ours was the smaller, less brutal one. Jeong Chan-su knew that, so he'd slyly balanced the party's size and firepower—stronger folks to the tougher path, weaker to the easier, keeping things even.
Not everyone was thrilled. Some grumbled that he'd deliberately sent me down the other route with subpar firepower to screw me over.
Fan gallery users, unlike me, didn't know Jeong Chan-su's true character. Plus, in our gallery, he was already pegged as that annoying prick.
Not everyone agreed. Plenty countered that with all the weaker folks around me, this was my chance to solo the loot. The tower's rule was simple: hard meant big rewards, easy meant skimpy ones.
What followed was the usual community keyboard war—childish bickering, but weirdly poignant when you remembered these were folks who'd once conquered the tower and become stars.
One thing was clear: no fixed answers. Results varied by style and situation.
That night—likely the last community check before the assault—I posted directly. I'd scanned the steady stream of posts and comments; nothing special up to today.
The replies were standard. Mostly begging me to post photos or videos early.
"Can't fight and sleep at the same time."
I let out a hollow chuckle. Snapping pics was fine, but uploading meant logging into Fate Road—aka sleeping. No live streams or real-time feeds for them.
That's when it hit. Scrolling idly, I spotted the username: NextRollingStone.
The guy who'd privately messaged me, offering points to jump to Lee Se-jin's gallery.
The post exploded into chaos. Users recognized him and piled on. In under five minutes, our gallery mods deleted his comment.
'What the hell? Why would a lurker suddenly pull this agro...'
I frowned at his permanent ban. Before, he'd messaged me secretly without posting a peep—just spectating. Now he pops up, baits the mob, takes the beating without a peep. Bizarre.
Payback for rejecting his offer? Maybe.
That last comment nagged at me. Beyond hiring assassin galleries, were there other ways to sabotage challengers? Seemed like a stretch to agro just for sabotage, but communities thrived on this drama.
"New armor suits you way better."
"You too."
Early morning. Fully geared from inventory—heavy plate, prepped for anything—I smirked at Kim Ji-eun in her rare blue cloak and S-grade robe.
Unlike me, comfy in armor, she hated the flowing fit and only wore it when essential.
"Hoping for a new robe... but weirdly, no magic ones drop anymore after this one."
"Is that so...?"
She fidgeted, side slits flashing hips, grumbling. I swallowed a laugh. Why no new robes? Her constellation and fans weren't gifting anymore.
"After Reina lost her old armor and got it back, maybe these break to get replaced? Doesn't seem that hard lately."
Her clueless words hit the nail. And timely nod to the tower outpacing S-grade gear. We were at Layer 150. Hard to say, but gear reinforcement unlocked at 156. Things would toughen up, slashing her odds for a new robe.
'How long till we scrap again?'
Equipment Reinforcement Stones—like other tower resources—came from clearing and claiming specific dungeons. In-story, they sparked fierce turf wars among challengers. Jeong Chan-su's new order, shoving out old powers, would face trials there too.
'Gotta stockpile till then.'
I didn't expect mountains, but greed wasn't zero. Soon, we'd all be players in that game. I'd been nudging Kim Ji-eun and guildmates to prep quietly.
"Over Moon guild's here. Time to spare—wait inside."
Assembly at the massive ravine's start, dungeon mouth ahead. Tents and setups buzzed with reps from factions, resident groups, and press like lizard-head Edmond.
"Who said snap?"
"Whoops, there you are? Was aiming elsewhere."
Edmond's camera clicked as it swung our way. I glared; he grinned slyly, per usual.
"Heat's insane. Everyone—residents, worlds beyond—watching if we'll crack 150. Pics of hope's vanguard? Pure inspiration."
He waxed on his righteousness.
"Especially beauties like you."
"Too slick."
I blocked Kim Ji-eun's brewing rage. But he wasn't wrong. Tower and beyond fixated on this event. Our fan gallery watchers too.
'Our lives on the line; theirs, main-event entertainment for faves.'
Not just clearing—who shone brighter mattered. Outshining rivals, fewer flubs: the competition's core. Rewards varied by performance, but it was pride too.
Pre-gallery, survival was my goal. Now? More stakes.
"Reina-unni! Ji-eun-unni!"
Then, amid the murmurs, a bright, bubbly black-haired girl strode through stares, spotting us.
Lee Se-jin.