Summoning the Holy Sword Requires Caution (1)

“Send him in!”

“A-are you sure? He’ll die!”

“Shut up and do it! You want us all to die instead?!”

At the same time, someone shoved Choi Junseok from behind.

That was when he understood.

Ah.

‘They meant me when they said to send someone in?’

Toward that hidden stage.

They were planning to sacrifice a single F-grade porter.

His luck was truly rotten.

How did everything line up so perfectly?

A floor with no time limit.

A hidden portal completely blocking the path to the escape stone.

The portal wouldn’t close until someone entered.

And until it disappeared, no one could leave.

And he had been chosen as the sacrifice.

“Intern Choi Junseok! Get in there right now! Move!”

It was the voice of Yu Jeong-hyeon, team leader of Field Team 4 from the Pungshin F&D Guild.

“W-well… yeah, Intern Choi… your awakened skill is the most useless one here, right?”

“Are you seriously telling me to die right now?”

“What? D-did you just swear? You little bastard with no father—your mouth’s the only thing that works, huh?!”

At the same time, a dagger stained black with monster blood crept toward him.

“Intern Choi… s-someone has to make the sacrifice. We’re… we’re about to get caught…!”

It was Kim Minjae’s serrated dagger—the E-grade porter who had been the only one Junseok considered a real colleague.

‘Minjae…’

The friend who had eaten insults alongside him as a porter, the one he thought was his only ally.

Just moments ago, they had been carving out a monster’s lower jaw together, loading magic stones into the same bag.

Now that same dagger was pointed at his back.

The tip trembled violently.

Junseok wondered if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Minjae could even bring himself to stab him.

“Choi Junseok! Get in there! Now!”

“If you die from blood loss… I’ll kill you myself first, got it?!”

“Then why don’t you throw in Deputy Park, who’s already bleeding out?”

“What did you just say, you little shit?! Your mouth again?! You think you’re the same level as that useless nobody?!”

Deputy Park, clutching his left waist where a monster’s tentacle had pierced him, was fuming.

Voices urging him forward, a blade at his back.

Anyone listening would think they were on the 70th floor, but this was only the 14th.

‘To outsiders it might sound like “only,” but…’

For most E- to D-grade players, reaching the 15th floor was a lifelong goal.

The real problem was that this hidden room—completely unrelated to the normal clear—had blocked the only exit and demanded a sacrifice.

Pungshin F&D would never have handed out something as precious as a Return Scroll for a 14th-floor run.

One Return Scroll cost hundreds of millions.

An essential item for clearing and surviving the upper floors of Magic Towers.

And not something that appeared often.

“That’s right! Junseok! You’ve been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up to the 34th floor before! A veteran should be the one to sacrifice himself!”

‘Veteran, my ass. Weren’t you calling me useless just now?’

All he had done was follow them up thanks to awakening the porter skill Inventory Master.

‘A skill optimized only for hauling cargo on the lower floors.’

‘The weakest awakened in history.’

‘The worst utility-type awakened.’

Those were the evaluations his colleagues had given him.

“Why did it have to appear right here…”

A hidden stage, sometimes called a tower error.

A perfectly random occurrence whose rules had never been figured out.

Normally, players avoided them for safety—it was the standard strategy.

But the problem was that this one had completely blocked the only path to the exit.

There was no way around it.

It was a hidden stage on the 14th floor, but no one knew whether what waited beyond would be 97th-floor difficulty or 1st-floor difficulty.

Not until someone went in.

A deep corridor leading to the sole exit.

Monsters were steadily approaching from the rear.

The terminals on everyone’s wrists were blaring warnings about unidentified lifeforms.

“Fine. I’m going. Go ahead, you goddamn bastards. Let’s see how well you do without me.”

He had never really considered them colleagues anyway.

But Minjae—the one he had thought of as a real friend—lowered the trembling dagger.

Tears streamed down Minjae’s face.

‘Why the hell are you crying? You’re making me feel bad.’

Junseok tapped Minjae’s tear-streaked cheek.

“Hey! Kim Minjae! Snap out of it, you idiot. Don’t cry. Next time it’ll be you. Pull yourself together. Just pray I survive, alright?”

He set down the pack he had been carrying.

When Junseok reached into the air, the pack—already converted into inventory space—materialized and dropped to the floor.

With a heavy thud, a giant centipede’s lower jaw burst through the bag and clattered onto the ground.

“Minjae.”

“…”

“Minjae. Hey! Kim Minjae!”

“…Huh? Huh? Uh…!”

“Tell my mom I said hi.”

“O-of course.”

“My mom… she doesn’t know I’m a porter. I told her I’m a C-grade player. She thinks I’m a fighter. Anyway… damn it. Just let her keep thinking that.”

“…”

“She’s got magic stone infection symptoms on her right arm. Painkillers aren’t working anymore lately… so… ah, shit. Just remember that. I don’t know.”

He let out a long breath…

and walked into the dark red portal that marked the hidden room.

All he had was a single serrated dagger for dismantling monster corpses.

The moment he crossed the portal, the scenery changed.

It felt like stepping inside a monster’s guts.

A hot, nauseating stench hung thick in the air.

The swamp-like odor coiled around his ankles.

Everything was drenched in blood—whether human or monster, he couldn’t tell.

In the darkness, his wrist’s bio-radar detected a single red dot.

And that dot was growing larger.

Something massive lay ahead.

‘Never seen a reading like this before.’

At least nothing like it had appeared in the 34 floors he had followed as a porter.

…He was going to die.

If he kept going, he would die.

He was terrified.

But he didn’t stop walking.

No.

He ran forward instead.

To end this disgusting, shitty F-grade life once and for all.

Beep—!

Beep--!

Beep----!

Beepbeepbeepbeep!

Beeeeeeeeeeeeep!!!!!

The terminal measuring demonic energy was screaming like it would explode.

Crack!

Smoke rose from the cracked screen as the device shattered.

He felt sorry for his sick mother and high-schooler sister.

But he couldn’t deny the sense of liberation either.

This was the end.

Laughter and tears burst out at the same time.

The red dot grew larger, swallowing the bio-radar on his wrist.

A vibration he had never felt before pulsed through his arm.

A signal that something enormous waited beyond.

It was a screen he had never seen, but Junseok ran straight ahead.

“Come on, you goddamn piece of shit… bastards…?”

And in that moment—

what awaited Choi Junseok wasn’t the hidden room’s boss monster.

It was a single leather bag.

“…A bag?”

An old, worn bag that looked like it might have belonged to a medieval knight.

Without hesitation, he activated his skill.

“[Appraise].”

Level 997?

A number he had never even heard of.

“Bag of the Martial God…? Wait… if it’s a bag, then…”

Sure enough, another status window appeared before him.

“I can’t equip it because of the rank difference?”

He had seen warnings about level differences before.

But this was the first time he had seen one about rank.

When he took another step closer—

KUUUUUUNG!

A powerful pressure burst outward, blasting him with wind.

It felt as if something alive had pulsed.

Gulp…

Junseok regained his balance and swallowed dryly.

When he cautiously reached out, a violent stinging sensation shot through his fingertips, as if lightning had struck them.

‘Death?’

He had never seen a notification like this before.

Since when did getting near an ordinary item come with a death warning?

But Junseok had a method.

“Skill activation. [Inventory Master].”

This was the reason he had been able to reach the 34th floor as a porter.

The awakened skill his colleagues had mocked—Inventory Master.

A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠skill perfectly optimized for carrying bags.

An ability that opened something like a game inventory.

The days he had despaired, hearing that he had learned a skill only a petty thief guild would like.

As Inventory Master activated, blue light erupted from his hand.

At the same time, the same light enveloped the old bag known as the Bag of the Martial God.

‘If this counts as a bag too…’

The first line of his F-grade ability.

‘Can equip any bag and…’

Sure enough—

The answer was obvious…

“Equip it.”

At the same time, a brilliant light exploded from the inventory and swallowed Choi Junseok whole.

And in that moment—

To humanity, Magic Towers were both a natural disaster and a blessing.

Oil?

Natural gas?

Nuclear power?

Magic stones crushed them all.

South Korea had also become a Magic Tower–possessing nation.

Grinding people down—South Korea was world-class at that, wasn’t it?

They threw players into the meat grinder while feverishly mining magic stones.

It wasn’t difficult for related industries to flourish overnight.

In that way, Magic Towers had created roughly ten massive sinkholes over about twelve years.

While a strange peace was maintained thanks to no towers rising in the metropolitan area—

that bizarre peace was shattered three years ago.

The first Magic Tower in the Seoul metropolitan area rose in Incheon.

297 days after the Incheon Magic Tower’s appearance.

Three days before its collapse.

History was written as the third time in the world—and the first time in South Korea—that the 100th floor was cleared.

At the center of that record stood the Sword God, Yu Junhyeok.

He vanished from South Korea the moment he cleared the tower.

The Guardian of Incheon.

The Sword God.

The idol of every melee combat player.

An unparalleled player competing for the world’s top spot.

A walking national power.

…That was the man now inside Choi Junseok’s room.

More precisely, in the form of a sword stored within his inventory.

Because the bag was humming as it spoke.

Honestly, the fact that the bag was claiming to be Sword God Yu Junhyeok was enough to make him feel insane.

“So you’re really him?”

“Indeed.”

“…Am I the crazy one here?”

Yu Junhyeok paid no attention to Junseok’s confusion and continued.

“How could a commoner possibly understand the will of a genius?”

It made no sense by any normal logic.

Yet Yu Junhyeok’s tone was far too matter-of-fact.

As if it were simply the truth.

“There are stages even within the Unity of Sword and Body.”

It was exactly as he said.

Sword God Yu Junhyeok claimed he had broken through the Unity of Sword and Body to clear the 100th floor.

The result, apparently, was fusing with his sword, Excalibur.

“Shouldn’t you have had the right path before the stage?”

What was he supposed to do if he literally became one with the sword?

Top rankers were never normal, but still.

Junseok frowned at the answer he received.

“That is the romance of it.”

‘Ah. This guy is definitely not normal.’

He was certain.

“Tsk. It is only natural that a commoner cannot understand.”

Junseok had no desire to understand anyway.

“The ultimate realm of the sword is becoming one with it. How could a mere porter comprehend a swordsman’s romance?”

And so, F-grade player Choi Junseok had no choice but to admit it.

He had picked up the Sword God’s sword.

Along with the entire inventory it had been stored in.

At the same time, he realized he had regressed to the day he awakened half a year ago.

A status window appeared above his head.

Since he had already regressed, Junseok prayed for an SSS-grade skill and shouted.

“View it!”

But as expected—

It was the same as before the regression.

“Ha…”

The moment a sigh escaped him—

an additional notification he hadn’t seen before the regression appeared.

The leather bag in Junseok’s room vanished as if melting away.

Yet he could clearly sense something inside it.

Junseok reached into the inventory he felt within ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠himself.

It was only an image in his mind.

There was nothing physical to touch.

‘So this is what soul-binding means?’

The moment he sensed the inventory inside him—

several items within became visible.

Most of them were silhouettes.

This happened occasionally when the level gap with items stored in the inventory was too great.

If his Appraiser skill or appraisal grade increased, he could analyze the items.

Right now, combined with that, it felt as if Yu Junhyeok was refusing to let him see.

‘By the way… summonable items… Excalibur?’

Transcendent?

What was Transcendent grade?

It was clearly something beyond Mythic.

As if reading his thoughts, Yu Junhyeok answered.

“Stop. You cannot use it anyway. If you try to take it out, the aftershock will kill you.”

It was too ominous to be called a simple warning—especially after the notification he had just seen.

“Its equippable level is 999. The others are the same. Items no one can use. Even I might not be able to right now.”

‘A sword even the Sword God can’t use?’

But a thought flashed through Junseok’s mind.

If there was even one person who could use that sword—

maybe, just maybe, it was him.

‘The final ability of my awakened skill, Inventory Master.’

- Can remotely summon items from the inventory.

“Who said anything about equipping it?”

He could just throw it.