Player Ranking 0th Place
Characteristic skills couldn't be used outside the Magic Tower. However, two items that could reduce the risk of climbing had appeared in succession.
"With this much, the mid-level floors should be worth challenging."
Choi Junseok had honestly considered building up his foundation and raising his level before attempting the mid floors, but he also thought it might not be necessary.
There was no urgent need for money that would require selling the Return Scroll. After all, around 6 billion plus 30 million won was about to land straight in his account.
"Satisfied?"
Honestly, this might be more valuable right now than hundreds of billions of won in worth.
"If I sold this rune stone, how much would it be worth?"
He didn't know if any awakened had gained teleportation-type abilities, but its utility was endless. Even Lee Jiyu, widely regarded as the fastest among players, couldn't surpass Blink in instantaneous short bursts.
It was the ultimate high-speed close-quarters skill, escape tool, and survival ability. It would only grow more effective the higher he climbed.
He needed to test its performance right away.
"Neither of you are tired, right?"
"Of course not."
"Not at all!"
"Now, the 26th floor. This is what players call the mid-level section of the Magic Tower. Stay alert."
At Choi Junseok's words, the two women nodded. He gripped the black card-like Magic Tower High Pass and spoke.
"Entering the 26th floor."
Let's go… to the mid floors.
─┼
The result was, as always, a new record clear. The path to the 26th floor's clear condition had been blocked by spaces requiring detours, but he broke through them effortlessly with Blink, securing yet another fastest record.
"After use, it takes about five minutes before it can be reused."
As expected, unlimited use wasn't possible. The dizziness after activation made reusing it difficult. It worked well as an evasion and escape tool, but it was also convenient for skipping intermediate stages in close combat and tower clearing.
By using Lee Nayeon's senses to detect empty spaces or internal terrain beyond walls, he could intuitively Blink to those points.
Thus, with roughly 180 days remaining until the Suseo Magic Tower's collapse, when codename Function—Choi Junseok—casually cleared the 26th floor, the top-floor raid team had just cleared the 65th floor and successfully returned outside the tower.
The world buzzed loudly about the 65th floor breakthrough. Even when Choi Junseok returned after finishing the 26th floor, every TV channel was running breaking news about the 65th floor attempt and clear, with updates scrolling across the bottom of the screen.
When Function had first awakened, the leading group at the Suseo Magic Tower had been challenging the 58th floor. In just a little over two weeks, they had broken through seven more floors.
Out of curiosity about Korea's current top players, Choi Junseok switched to a news channel. Yu Junhyeok, who rarely spoke, reacted immediately.
— That fellow. He was still alive.
"Someone you know?"
— He was my disciple.
Sure enough, the man in armor on screen was also equipped with a sword. His armor was dazzling. If he'd been a player three years ago, he must have been quite the veteran.
The subtitle read: S-grade player, Kim Chul-gon. Ranked 7th.
The Player Management Agency did assign rankings, but only up to single digits. They ranked top players and fueled competition. It was somewhat childish, yet it served as an effective stimulant to boost players' competitive spirit and climbing motivation.
Players often scoffed at the rankings while still accepting them as their own order. The rankings were based on objective metrics: awakened abilities, achievements, climbing records, internal reputation, and additional skills. It felt less like a pure measure of individual strength and more like an indicator of who was the most valuable asset for clearing the Magic Tower in Korea's player community.
Even the top players pretended not to care about the rankings while secretly paying attention. After all, the scale of support and treatment they received internally varied by rank.
This 65th floor clear also included an element of ranking competition to accumulate merits and climb higher in the standings. The Player Management Agency's quarterly player evaluations were approaching.
"We were able to break through the 65th floor thanks to the new support-type players who quickly joined our raid team."
The maximum number of players allowed to enter the 65th floor was 30. Naturally, they filled all 30 slots, and it seemed the new players who had awakened skills tailored to the 65th floor had played a significant role.
The reason they could safely reach the 65th floor was thanks to the Indian and Nepalese players who had built elevators through the lower and mid floors in just two weeks.
With enough time, players supported by the Management Agency could reach the upper floors without shedding a single drop of blood.
"It sounds like the new S-grade and A-grade awakened played a considerable role."
"Sometimes, support or assistance-type abilities can greatly enhance the entire raid team's firepower and survivability, regardless of the player's level."
"That makes it sound like the 65th floor's difficulty was quite high."
"This 65th floor was incomparable to the Incheon Magic Tower. Like the global trend, the Magic Tower's difficulty is rising. To climb the next floor, player safety must be the top priority. Even in preparation for the next tower, we're approaching the raid with veteran players' safety and survival as the main focus."
The 65th floor. At a glance, it seemed quite high. Yet against the total height of 100 floors, they had only just passed the halfway mark. More than a third of the floors still remained. And the difficulty spiked dramatically with each floor.
The Incheon Magic Tower had barely been cleared thanks to Yu Junhyeok's sacrifice.
A strange unease spread among the people—the fear that the Suseo Magic Tower might not be clearable.
"They say the Suseo Magic Tower's difficulty is higher than Incheon's?"
"Even so… Senior Kim Chul-gon was just a rookie during the Incheon Magic Tower. Most of the Incheon veterans died. Even Yu Junhyeok, who used to carry players through, is gone. Of course it's harder when you have to clear it yourself."
That was the biggest problem. Unlike before, Yu Junhyeok—the Sword God the world had envied—who had led players' growth and elevated A-grades and S-grades to the pinnacle, had vanished along with Incheon.
— Tsk. The lad. None of what I taught him shows in his presence.
Yu Junhyeok clicked his tongue with a hint of regret.
The Management Agency couldn't view the 65th floor clear entirely positively either. The fact that new awakened raid members had been funneled in through the government-built elevator meant that whenever an original member fell, they were immediately replaced. As a result, eight casualties occurred during the 65th floor raid alone.
Eight people. Each one a skilled top-tier player. It was a painful loss.
The players themselves were sinking into self-deprecating defeatism. Having suffered heavy losses just from encountering the mid-boss of the 60s floors, it seemed they would need at least several days before attempting the 66th floor. That meant selecting a new raid team and awakened suited for the 66th floor.
Being assigned to the top-floor player team was the greatest honor, yet also a misfortune. Climbing the Magic Tower as a player was close to an obligation. Especially those receiving various forms of support from the Management Agency were often deployed like soldiers in wartime. Refusing meant losing income and potentially facing imprisonment.
Vehicles carrying those who had been in group training at the Player Management Agency for the 65th floor raid arrived one after another. Most looked half-ragged. Injuries were inseparable from a player's life, but those who could be redeployed in just a few days trembled with fear.
In the Management Agency's large gym filled with state-of-the-art equipment, an undercurrent of anxiety hung over the muscular players in conversation. The fear of being pulled in to fill the gaps left by the 65th floor sacrifices outweighed any anticipation for the upcoming ranking update.
"Do you know what the expected survival period is if you're assigned to the top-floor raid team?"
"……Two months?"
"If you join the main force instead of the reserves, two weeks."
"……."
"But is it right to risk your life climbing the top floors? There's no way anyone can clear the 100th floor anyway, right?"
"That's true. The 100th floor isn't exactly a neighborhood dog's name. How could anyone clear it?"
When Choi Junseok and Lee Nayeon entered the area where several players were training their stamina, the gym fell strangely quiet. It wasn't just their imagination. People's movements and words stopped the moment they glanced toward the entrance.
Their wavering eyes stilled.
"Hup…!"
Lee Nayeon and Choi Junseok. An SS-grade player and an unidentified S-grade player. Figures never before reported in the player ranker community. Their presence felt like a sign that the Player Management Agency still had hidden strength—that Korea's player society possessed a secret trump card.
Government-managed players.
That was it. For some reason, the players instinctively sensed that the country had been quietly sheltering powerhouses comparable to SS-grade.
Maybe clearing the 100th floor isn't impossible after all?
Choi Junseok and Lee Nayeon began light exercise for digestion, paying no attention, yet they were unintentionally spreading hope to the other players who had been discouraged and defeatist.
Just then, a player's remark while catching his breath over his phone chilled the gym once more.
"It's up."
There was no subject or object, but everyone understood what he meant. The Player Management Agency had released the new player rankings.
The rankings only went up to 500th place. Even that meant most active S-grade and A-grade professional players were included. Moreover, with the tower's challenge floors reaching the late 60s, many players had retired due to casualties or severe injuries that left them unable to fight.
Players acted as if they didn't care, yet each turned their eyes to their phones. Only Lee Nayeon and Choi Junseok continued exercising calmly.
"……0th place?"
The flustered players let out hollow laughs as they looked at the 0th place at the very top of the list. Until the previous quarter's ranking chart, 0th place hadn't existed. Yet there it was, above 1st place.
0th place: Function. An F-grade rookie with unknown details.