The First Climber

In the early days of the tower climb, in the life before this one, Shin Haneul had barely existed at all.

A late start, forced by injury, was only the second of his problems. The first was the hidden quests. The rewards that fell to whoever happened to clear one were so enormous that the early rankings were settled by a single question: did you have one, or didn't you?

Raw skill could not close that gap. Not then. Only once the climb pushed into its middle stretch could the order be overturned, one rank at a time. So when he first set foot in the Tower — on the first floor most of all — he fell far short of what anyone expected from an Awakener counted among Korea's finest. That was simply the truth. He had come late, posted a poor score, and a great many people made no effort to hide their disappointment.

They hadn't been wrong. Even Shin Haneul had been disappointed in himself.

An ordinary man might have broken there and stayed ordinary. He did not. Precisely because he was lacking, he scraped and clawed his way upward all the harder.

Hidden quests had been almost no help along the way. They vanished the moment anyone cleared them, and until that moment their very existence could not be known — and when it came to finding a thing like that, his luck had been miserable past all reason.

It hadn't mattered. Even without them, Shin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Haneul walked his own road in silence, and in the end he grew into a presence no one else could touch. He could do the same this time.

Even so. If the benefits are there to be taken, the road gets that much easier.

In that previous life they had called him a training addict with suspected masochism, a monster tempered by pain, and worse besides. All of it a misunderstanding. Not once had he enjoyed any of it. He had simply had to, and he had endured because enduring was the only way to see it through.

There was no need for that now. An easy road lay in plain sight — why walk through thorns? A site not far off, where rift energy had been detected. He headed for Alaska.

He let out a breath.

Alaska's cold lived up to every word of its reputation. The air knifed deep into his lungs, and at the heart of that barren snowfield a violet rift shimmered, as if space itself had warped. For a small dungeon, the aura it breathed was strange. Shin Haneul knew at once that he had come to the right place.

"Welcome, Mr. Shin!"

The voice boomed the moment he stepped off the private jet. A formation drawn up to perfection. Uniforms without a crease out of place. They were US troops stationed in Alaska, and they had prepared a reception for Shin Haneul and Shin Haneul alone.

Under any other circumstances they would have been well within their rights to grumble that they were not an honor guard. But every face was bright, and every pair of eyes was full of open admiration. Once, they had fought each other for a place on a dungeon raid. Now those raids were understood for what they were: missions that could kill you.

And he did not even covet the only real prize to be had in them — the mana stones. He simply had them divided at a fair price. A reception of this scale was something they could put on gladly. Gladly enough, even, that the guest of honor himself found it a bit much.

"...You really don't have to go this far."

"What are you saying, sir!"

The soldier ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who looked to be in charge stepped forward, his expression grave.

"A man offering such a noble sacrifice, and for the citizens alone! The United States military cannot slight him!!"

"That's right! We're doing this of our own free will, so please don't give it a second thought!!"

Shin Haneul said nothing more. Experience in other regions had already taught him that talking these people down was harder than clearing a dungeon.

He walked quietly into the dungeon.

Inside was a frost cave. True to a dungeon born in Alaska, it was packed with snow-type monsters — a punishing sort of place for Awakeners who, as they were now, lacked the mana to ward off the cold. To Shin Haneul it was nothing but a footpath.

He threw the way open without slowing, and the soldiers followed him in. Support, on paper. Spectating, in practice.

The monsters waiting in the first chamber were yetis. A troublesome breed even before dungeons began to mutate, and ten of them had packed the room from the very start.

"Kraaa!"

"Grraaagh—!"

Shin Haneul moved. The soldiers' eyes tried to catch it, but his body was faster than their eyes.

A heavy thud. Then another, and another. Afterimages, and ten dull impacts. The yetis toppled to either side of the passage. Not one of them managed a howl. Not even a groan.

"...Did you see that just now?"

"No. Too fast."

"I think I saw it."

"That was an afterimage."

Sheer, overwhelming skill. Not one of them could keep the awe from stacking higher.

While they were still talking, Shin Haneul had already moved on to the next chamber. The same thing happened again, and again, until the dungeon was cleared before they quite noticed.

"......"

"..."

"Is that... even human?"

No one answered. No one could.

Outside, Alaska's cold came back to meet them. The mana stones were divided in short order. Shin Haneul took no share for himself. As always, he would settle his portion in cash.

The soldiers stood blank for a long while.

"So what's he doing over there?"

"Right?"

The clear was finished. There was nothing left for Shin Haneul to do here.

"I heard he heads straight back the moment a dungeon's broken."

"Yeah. Friends in other units said that even if you wanted to get friendly, there wasn't time for a conversation."

Today, though, he was different. He lingered near the dungeon entrance, pacing. He might have been waiting for something. He might not.

"Think he forgot something?"

"Word was he's picking a handful of Awakeners to train himself... maybe one of us?"

"...!"

"Dream on. It is definitely not you."

"Not you either."

They denied each other's chances, and still the hope went circling through every head.

Could it be me...?

Me?

If only it were me!

Shin Haneul felt the heat of their stares. He ignored them, and simply waited — for the moment the dungeon door shut. The moment the rift in this place heaved at its greatest.

A faint crackle.

A tremor of mana, vanishingly small. The rift opened. Faint on the outside — but the presence leaking from within was nearly on par with the inside of the Tower. No. Of course it was. This place was all but the entrance itself.

Without a moment's delay he seized that space in both hands and tore it wide. The rift split with a violent crack.

"—!"

He felt the shock roll through the Alaska troops around him, through Colonel Curtis, who had come along, through everyone nearby.

Curtis. Why are you surprised? I told you ahead of time.

A wry smile touched his mouth, and he stepped through.

An eerie space. Strange enough that merely standing still burned mana. The instant both feet were fully planted, he heard the Tower's guide-voice for the first time in a long while.

"I will."

A question with only one answer. He gave it at once, and the Tower, as if in reply, spoke again.

All Shin Haneul had done was step into the rift ahead of anyone else. That, and — if one insisted on counting it — declare that he would climb the Tower.

The labor had been nothing. The benefits pouring down were far too great. Even Shin Haneul, who had roughly known what to expect from the life before, was startled.

Azar, you bastard. So you hid most of what you received.

Hector Azar. Discoverer of the first rift, and one of the strongest Awakeners in the United States. His showing in the early days had been overwhelming — and now, looking at this, it made sense.

The rest aside, the Lunatic Stone. A cheat of an item, capable of imprinting one more trait upon him. And he had it this early.

A grin pulled at his mouth before he could stop it. An unexpected reward. The variables he would need to run the field alone were, for all practical purposes, gone.

At that same hour, the Republic of Korea had come apart.

Patients with Mana Insensitivity, driven into runaway by the rift. The damage was on the scale of a city under bombardment, and the most panicked of all were the patients themselves. They might be bombs — things that could tear apart everything around them.

One after another, they began public confessions, desperate to look good in Shin Haneul's eyes. Among what they confessed was information of the kind that must never, under any circumstances, be spoken aloud. The authorities had hauled them all into protective facilities on the pretext of preventing another mana explosion, but erasing every trace of what they had already said was no simple ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠matter.

"Shin Haneul warned us about this ages ago — why did the government ignore him!"

"Explain yourselves! And name the one responsible for this disaster!"

In the end, they lost control of public opinion. The protests did not end with a single day. Every day, crowds gathered before the National Assembly.

Chairman Park Yongseok watched it on the television. Park Gyeongtae's grandfather hurled the ashtray in his hand straight at the screen.

Glass exploded.

A luxury set well over a hundred inches was smashed to pieces. He did not care.

"This is all because of you, you worthless little bastard!"

He was a power unto himself, a shadowy kingmaker. Scholars of the foundation, handed down generation after generation, held seats across the legislature, the administration, and the courts. That web of connections had bred a faith — follow him, and advancement was as good as sealed — and the faith had been justified.

Now cracks were running through it. The public could do whatever they liked and still never lay a hand on Park Yongseok himself, but the belief of the hands and feet who served him had begun to shake.

"Useless wretch. I took you into this house and raised you, and this is the thanks I get!"

"...I'm sorry."

He was called the strongest Awakener in the Republic of Korea, and before his grandfather he could not even straighten his back.

The son of a bastard. By rights he should never have existed on the family register, and for the whole of his childhood, he hadn't. He had lived like a servant of the house. Then he showed promise as an Awakener, and his standing shot upward until he was recognized, formally, as one of them.

The fruit of it was sweet. Revenge on those who had scorned him. Life flowing back into his parents. His world turned a hundred and eighty degrees.

He had thought it then.

Money and power are everything. I don't want to lose this.

To that end he used Chairman Park Yongseok's power to its limit. Bribes circulated through the military, mana stones were funneled into his hands, and he grew into the greatest Awakener in the country. He had even removed the man who stood in his way. Shin Haneul.

Cashiered. And through public opinion, any chance of a return ground underfoot.

He was a decent guy. It couldn't be helped.

It was after that. After that, everything began to twist. Mutated dungeons appeared. A treatment for Mana Insensitivity suddenly existed. Those who had not received it went into mana runaway. Cover one problem, and a new one burst open right behind it.

Even so. Power like this doesn't collapse over something of this scale.

Park Gyeongtae spoke.

"Please help me just one more time. We'll say he deliberately taught us the safety rules wrong, and that the vaccine negotiations included unreasonable demands beyond what already came to light."

"You fool."

"...Sir?"

"You think I hadn't already thought of that much? I'm telling you this because it isn't enough!"

To make up the difference, go stake your life on a large-scale dungeon. Fail, and it was an honorable death. Succeed, and you were a hero. That was what he meant.

"Understood."

Park Gyeongtae had been of the same mind. Then the situation changed.

A few days later, a disaster large enough to bury the uproar broke open. Without warning, a Black Tower rose in every nation.

"What?"

"Where did something like that come from, all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of a sudden..."

And the message forced into every ear was more shocking still.

A national crisis far beyond the mana explosions. One with no easy answer.

Faced with it, Park Gyeongtae let out a cry of pure delight.

A crisis on the scale of the whole country? All the better.

A tower looked like a problem whose risk dwarfed any mutated dungeon — those, you could simply evacuate. But if he were the one to deal with it? He could bury this whole affair. No. Not merely bury it. He could turn everything around.

Or so he had thought.