Stepping Stone (2)
"Thanks to the imprint multiplier reward you just received, your Insight stat has exceeded two million. You can now converse without needing to seek out a sanctuary, so why come here on purpose? Don't you still have things left to tidy up?"
"Well, just... it's become a habit, and yeah, it's a convenient spot for chatting, right?"
I flinched unnecessarily and mumbled an excuse. I couldn't exactly say it was because the sanctuary was a place other 'clippers'—excluding my contracted constellations—couldn't observe.
"Even if it's convenient for conversation, I'll be dropping by often from now on."
"Hearing you say that makes me happy."
Serpina had no reason to refuse, and as expected, she showed her delight, agreeing to my continued visits to the sanctuary.
"You bestowed your blessing and saved me in that dire moment, so it's only right I repay the favor."
The trigger had been trolling from other constellations, but it was Serpina and the gallery users who ultimately pulled me out of it. My gratitude and intent to repay them were utterly sincere.
"...You've already repaid us."
In response to my thanks, Serpina gave a strangely poignant reply.
If this were the old me, I might've brushed it off without a second thought. But now, I couldn't help smirking, the corner of my mouth twitching upward.
I'd caught a quick nap en route to the sanctuary and checked the gallery's vibe beforehand.
There'd been one hiccup midway, but it had all worked out in the end. I'd executed most of their suggested strategies and snagged one of the best rewards available, leaving the fan gallery users thrilled with my performance.
'Thrilled' the right word for it?
Having witnessed the chaotic frenzy of the gallery—a madhouse of clashing voices—I could only give a wry smile and bow my head.
This was like their 'turn' had come around. My fans, pent-up from watching me get overshadowed by others, were unleashing all their bottled emotions through this incident.
"One warning, though: the crisis you just faced might return multiple times. Think of it as... a trial."
"Then I'll gladly accept it. Overcoming it brings me gains, after all."
Serpina couldn't bring herself to bluntly say that malicious antis had started slandering me, but her warning was clear. Naturally, I accepted it head-on.
I already knew what it entailed, and as I'd told her, I could even profit from it.
"Get some praise?"
"Something like that. You?"
As I wrapped up with Serpina and stepped out of the sanctuary, Kim Ji-eun, who'd been waiting, approached. She'd tagged along with me to chat with her own constellation.
"Not just praise."
Kim Ji-eun shrugged, nose in the air, clearly thrilled with a nice gift she'd received. As I'd glimpsed on the boards earlier, her gallery constellations had sponsored her some gear too.
Her fandom and mine were practically one and the same, after all.
"New outfit coming up?"
Kim Ji-eun's eyes sparkled; her half-random reward had her hoping for fresh attire. She nagged me nonstop about hiding my precious body, yet she squirmed uncomfortably at exposing a bit of thigh or underarm herself.
"I-I mean, my body's like this, so it doesn't suit me. Stuff like this would look way better on you, Reina."
When I pointed it out, Kim Ji-eun glanced down at her flat chest and the outfit clinging tightly to it—admittedly risky in a different way on her petite frame.
It almost felt like she was vicariously satisfying herself through me; she clearly disliked her underdeveloped figure.
'But what can you do? Most of your fan gallery users...'
I couldn't tell her that the majority of her 'fans' among the constellations actually adored that exact look and went wild for it. Her fandom, smaller even than mine, was intensely devoted to that vibe.
The very outfit making her blush had been picked and sent by those diehards.
She'd freaked out over the sleek choker for her smooth thighs—a random reward this time—right there in the returning carriage.
"Five dead, twenty-three injured. Compared to when we first challenged the 150th floor and nearly twenty died, that's definite progress."
Jeong Chan-su spoke in his usual dry tone.
They'd conquered the 150th, but it wasn't time to pop champagne yet. The 95 survivors who'd earned the right to advance to the 151st gathered once more.
"No telling how many will die pushing from 151 to 152."
He muttered, staring at the rippling spatial rift. Everyone tensed, swallowing nervously in the heavy silence.
I felt it too. Even knowing what lay ahead didn't make it any less real up close.
'Alt World.'
From the 151st floor, the backdrops restarted from layer 1. But not identical.
Floria, Earth, Netherrack, and more—the challengers' homeworlds that had inevitably met their end in total destruction. Alt World simulated that apocalypse.
"Let's head in."
With raid leader Jeong Chan-su at the fore, only these 95 could now witness that world firsthand.
Entering 151st Floor
I stepped through the rift with the others, arriving on the newly unlocked floor.
The first sight: a colossal ruined castle and a shattered city.
Floria—the medieval fantasy world from layers 1 to 29, home to my possessed body, Reina Frontier. Now laid bare before us in utter devastation.
"150 to 151 took way too long, don't you think~~?"
Something popped into existence before our stunned group.
The tower's iconic admin fairy, unseen for a while.
"You're the one who said the 150th would be brutal."
"Sure, but half a year? That's excessive."
"Cut the nonsense and explain what we need to know as the first to reach here. Where are we? What's unique? What does it demand of us?"
"...Always so humorless."
Jeong Chan-su brushed off the fairy's snark like the cheap trick it was from layer 1. She furrowed her brow, sighed with a 'knew you'd say that' look, and got to the point.
"Alt World, spanning 151 to 190. Important enough for an explanation. Sharp ones might've guessed: it's another possibility for your homeworlds."
The fairy finally named it: Alt World. Everyone but me and Jeong Chan-su—who already knew—gaped in shock.
"Top rankers worthy of vanguard status climbed to save your homes, right? Gotta try harder, though. Otherwise, this ruin right here? That's your futures."
Grinning wickedly, she delivered the bombshell in solemn tones. The air stirred with murmurs.
Hearing of apocalypse was one thing; seeing the devastation firsthand was another.
'It actually happened once.'
I glanced at Jeong Chan-su. No emotion betrayed him—he'd know best, having lived that 'future' glimpsed briefly in flashbacks and regressed from it.
"Difficulty ramps up from here. Think battling apocalypse after touring the universe destroying worlds is easy?"
The fairy zipped overhead, chuckling at our reactions.
"Of course, more challenge means more growth chances. No need to spell it out for know-it-alls, right?"
"If you're done, scram. We're scouting residential zones as planned."
Jeong Chan-su shooed her like a fly once we'd heard enough. Ignoring her flailing tantrum, he pointed to the ruined city ahead.
"...Doesn't seem livable here."
"Yeah. Inefficient."
I nodded weakly at Kim Ji-eun's whisper, forcing a smile. 'Residential zone' was just a safety area. No one would want to settle in an Alt World with zero civilization or intact facilities.
They'd likely patch minimal essentials for skeleton crews. HQ stays low, each Alt World floor a forward camp.
"Valhalla Guild Leader, so when do you figure for conquering 151?"
Someone addressed Jeong Chan-su directly: Duran, rank 5, sole old-guard in the top 10, a dwarf warrior.
"Generously, another half-year? Fairy's words, and it looks tough at a glance."
Dyke, rank 21 and Rakno Mercenary Corps head, chimed in cautiously. Most probably thought the same.
But I caught Jeong Chan-su's brow twitch at 'half-year'.
"Time isn't infinite. Not starting first scout in half a year—we end 151 in three months."
"Wh-what?! Three months!?"
His bombshell shattered expectations; the group erupted. Only his faction—new-guard rankers briefed on plans—stayed steady.
"Impossible! Even 150 cost countless lives and time!"
"150 was a gateway floor. 151 likely smaller scale."
"Not certain!"
"Too risky!"
Outcries swelled, fiercer from lower ranks. Rushing meant weaklings died first—natural backlash.
"The Leader has it all figured."
"Fifty floors left. A year per floor? When do we finish?!"
Sylvia and Jeong Chan-su's faction raised voices too. Old-guard outnumbered new 3:1 here, but top ranks were his—balance held.
'Can't purge again; must be frustrating.'
I sighed softly, watching his deepening frown. Noncooperation slowed conquests. Back when rising ranks, he'd massacred dissenters, redistributing power. Not now.
No time to build new forces. Not just for assault, but endless defenses—total tower strength vital.
In canon, he abandoned leading all rankers, hyper-boosting his circle to break through. Costly: side characters including heroines dropped like flies, shredding his last emotional anchors.
Painful even as a fan.
"Why not? It's doable."
So I spoke up, arms crossed silent till then. All eyes snapped to me.