Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Determination and Goal
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The Tower.
A mysterious structure that suddenly sprang up one day.
Its material was clearly not of this Earth.
Humanity's technology couldn't destroy it, nor could they force their way inside.
Only the "Awakened" who received an invitation from the Tower could climb it.
With the emergence of the Tower and the Awakened, humanity faced its greatest upheaval since the Industrial Revolution.
The rewards from the Tower instantly solved humanity's longstanding energy and environmental crises.
Magic stones that produced vast amounts of energy without polluting the environment.
Rare resources that cured incurable diseases and advanced technology.
Using the Tower's rewards, humanity achieved dazzling progress once more.
Some even called the Tower a divine blessing sent to humanity in its time of crisis.
New religions worshiping the Tower sprang up, and rumors swirled that their leaders were active high-rankers climbing the Tower.
But was the Tower truly nothing but a boon for humanity?
Anyone asked that would shake their head.
Hunters died every day while climbing the Tower.
And with the Tower's appearance came sporadic outbreak gates, claiming countless civilian lives.
But those were trifles compared to the true calamity the Tower brought.
When this ominous message reached the Hunters, the entire nation went on high alert.
Politicians scheduled sudden overseas trips, chaebols boarded private jets for vacations.
Even ordinary citizens scrambled for the fastest flights or resorted to smuggling themselves out.
And for good reason—the Tower's penalty was...
The random theft of souls from living beings around the Tower.
Those targeted by the penalty collapsed like puppets with cut strings.
They breathed, their hearts beat, but their consciousness was gone.
Without special life-support devices, even that faded away.
The targets were chosen at random, the numbers varying each time.
Thousands could perish overnight, or it could claim a nation's president or chaebol head.
So why not just evacuate everyone around the Tower?
No use. The damn Tower relentlessly expanded its penalty range until it stole the souls it wanted.
Neglect it, and the range could engulf the whole country—or spill into neighboring nations.
That's why Hunters were vital.
The only ones who could climb the Tower.
They brought back rewards to fuel the economy and climbed the top floors to safeguard lives.
In this era, a nation's strength was measured by its powerful Hunters.
For countries with top-tier Hunters, the Tower was an endless oil well of resources.
For those without, it was a massive time bomb.
What does a government do when its Hunters can no longer climb the top floor?
With thousands of souls at stake, it begs aid from foreign top Hunters.
But aid isn't free.
Hunters gained little from climbing foreign Towers—only repeat rewards from already-cleared floors.
No sane Hunter risked it in these dangerous times.
So the requesting nation had to offer massive incentives.
Astronomical sums for just one floor.
And not just to the Hunter—their nation demanded payment too.
Hunters were national assets, after all. Sending them into danger abroad warranted compensation.
Usually paid in magic stones—a percentage of the nation's annual yield.
Worse, these deals weren't one-offs.
Requesting aid meant no local Hunters could handle top floors.
Higher floors required repeated foreign aid, draining magic stones and cash indefinitely.
A vicious cycle. Modern colonialism.
Unfortunately, South Korea had been there.
No S-rank skills, few rankers climbing the Challenge Tower.
They barely cleared top floors on deadline, until they couldn't—and begged foreign aid.
First America, then China, Japan... picked clean one by one.
Lost first-clear rewards on top floors.
Surrendered magic stones from lower clears.
Other interests chipped away bit by bit.
South Korea regressed to the era of imperial exploitation.
But as the saying goes, heroes emerge in chaotic times.
Enter Lee Jin-cheol, blazing in like a comet.
With the cheat skill "Dragon Swordsmanship," he rocketed up the Tower, clearing top floors South Korea couldn't touch—in just one year.
He single-handedly ushered in South Korea's Tower dominance.
Being hailed a national hero was inevitable.
Neighboring nations showered him with defection offers.
But the ex-career soldier's patriotism ran deep.
He shared his climbing know-how for South Korea's future.
Lobbied the government to form the Hunter Association, precursor to the Hunter Department.
Some even called him the reincarnation of Admiral Yi Sun-sin.
Yet unease lingered amid his fame.
"Isn't he climbing too fast?"
Lee Jin-cheol's pace was absurdly quick, even globally.
His unstoppable momentum turned Tower colony South Korea into a climbing powerhouse.
Why not climb fast?
No—top floor climbs were conventionally dragged out until just before penalty warnings, cleared on a razor's edge.
Ideal was ample prep time: elixirs, top gear, full readiness.
But...
"Please trust me. I can do this."
- Lee Jin-cheol Hunter's climbs have consistently ranked S to A so far. Plenty of leeway left. Claims of needing to slow down? Probably psyops from neighboring countries scared of our Tower progress. Haha, just kidding.
Lee Jin-cheol brimmed with confidence; the president spouted nonsense.
Citizens shared the optimism.
The nation was swept in mania.
Rational voices drowned out.
Media, drunk on nationalism, hyped South Korea overtaking America as top Tower climber.
Then one day...
"...Sorry. We weren't quite prepared."
Lee Jin-cheol's climb stalled for the first time.
A-rank on the prior floor made it shocking.
He'd always returned leisurely; now he barely crawled back, bloodied.
Everyone has off days. It blew over.
But...
"Sorry. Misjudged the strategy."
"Sorry. Poor condition management..."
"Sorry..."
Months passed; that top floor remained uncleared.
The festive air turned frigid.
Maybe equip Lee Jin-cheol better?
Import foreign elixirs?
Or finally call in overseas Hunters?
Worries arose, but were ignored.
"...Please trust me. We'll clear the top floor with South Korean Hunters' power."
- The government respects Lee Jin-cheol Hunter's resolve. Still time before penalty. Trust our Hunters. Oh, for Tower gear, we're scouring everywhere...
Neither Lee Jin-cheol nor the government considered foreign aid.
Rumors flew he'd threaten to defect if they did.
His supporters raged on.
Back to Tower colony days?
Who believes in him if we don't?
Good gear like foreign Hunters, and he'll crush that top floor easy.
Sentiment over reason.
Time slipped away meaninglessly until that day.
No more room to retreat.
Stubborn Lee Jin-cheol promised foreign aid if his final climb five days before penalty failed.
Government rented top foreign gear for the last push, contracted backup Hunters.
South Korea was safe... Our hero would pull through... Foolishly, everyone believed.
"KyaAaAaK!!"
Cameras at the Tower entrance captured not a proud hero, but a mangled corpse.
The nation watched live, stunned as disaster struck.
An unprecedented message.
The Tower didn't base penalties solely on deadlines.
"KyaAaAaK!"
"Daddy! Mommy!"
"Honey!!"
No time to prepare goodbyes—the Tower stole 10,000 souls.
Husbands, sons, daughters, parents... all collapsed unconscious like broken dolls.
Unimaginable catastrophe.
The nation rose in fury.
National hero Lee Jin-cheol became a traitor; officials purged, president resigned.
South Korea's worst 21st-century disaster.
Among the victims: Ji-woo's adoptive parents.
"Mom, Dad, we're here."
Even as his sister gently stroked their foreheads, their closed eyes didn't open.
Mother and father lay cold in cylindrical machines like coffins.
The caretaker stepped out and announced.
"Guardians of Kim Ji-woo, visitation is 30 minutes."
This was the "Capsule" facility.
Where victims of the disaster five years ago were kept.
Some soulless survivors lingered here on life support.
Breathing, but nothing more.
"I'll get a job right after graduation."
"Nonsense. If I can't send you to college, Dad'll kill me."
"I can tutor even in college?"
"Study harder for scholarships instead. Don't worry about useless stuff."
"Tch... Always gotta do everything yourself."
At his sister's teary voice, Ji-woo just glanced over.
Capsule life support used Tower tech—and cost a fortune.
Government subsidies still ran millions monthly.
Five years ago, as a high schooler, he'd dropped out for construction gigs.
Even then, fees strained him—until awakening as a Hunter improved earnings.
Most still went to the Tower fees, though.
Thunder, stuffy in his clothes, poked his head out.
"Chit?"
"Our parents."
"Chit? Chit chit."
"...They're just resting a bit. They'll wake up soon."
Three years ago, upon awakening as a Hunter, Ji-woo's first dream was this.
If the Tower stole his parents' souls,
climb it all, and maybe they'd return.
Wasn't that why he'd awakened?
It shattered quickly, of course.
But now...
"Chit?"
Now was different.
He had a companion, the Trainer class, and Training skill—unlimited growth potential.
Just Ramju Thunder now, but higher levels might mean more.
No floor too tough; this power would conquer every Tower.
"...Oppa."
"Yeah?"
His sister looked down, hesitating before speaking.
"If it's too hard for you... you can stop."
"...No idea what you're telling me to stop."
"It's been five years since Mom and Dad... No knowing if they'll wake, and you're the only one suffering... Sniff."
"Told you not to worry about useless stuff."
He pinched her chatty lips shut and ruffled her hair till she quieted.
She finally broke into sobs, crumbling against him—he could only hold her gently.
"Don't cry. They'll both wake up soon."
Because he'd make it so.
Climb that Tower to the end, restore his family like before.
"Chit chit!"