The Room of Eternity
Jeong Wooseok's mind was a tangled mess by the time he got back to his hotel.
'What you see is a deception.'
The shaman's divination.
'It's not 100 million years. You only have to endure 100 days.'
"Ha."
Was he actually supposed to believe this?
Wooseok couldn't sit still. He paced the room in restless circles like a man being slowly boiled.
'What if I go in, and it really is a 100-million-year room, and even after 100 days it still won't clear?'
His breath caught in his throat.
He didn't even want to imagine it... 100 million years? Alone? No mind would come out of that intact. What would he have left to do besides bite through his own tongue?
"I can't go. I won't go."
That was his resolution. And yet.
'But what if it's true?'
Just as the shaman had said, the Forgotten Beasts' Castle Site had appeared—and Shin Suryeon's father had been inside it. The divination had hit the mark without fail. Which meant the odds were good that this reading would be right, too.
"..."
Wooseok hurled his phone across the room.
"Ah, fuck it, this is such complete bullshit! What am I supposed to do?!"
He fumed and swore for a good long while, clawing at his own hair—until finally he threw on some clothes and walked out of the hotel.
The Awakener Management Bureau. Director Oh Jeonghun's office.
Tap, tap, tap—someone walked in, heels clicking on the floor.
A woman. Long hair spilling down to her waist. A designer trench coat that announced its price tag at a single glance. A soft smile permanently curving the corners of her mouth. Even mid-smile, there was something about her face that left no opening at all.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"
SSS-rank Awakener, Lee Chaerin.
Watching Chaerin stroll in with that smile, "Ah, there you are," Director Oh rose from his seat.
He'd already taken the report, but Chaerin's return could only mean one thing: Hell's 6th floor had been cleared.
"How was the 6th floor of Hell?"
She gave a slight tilt of her head at the Director's question.
"Eh, just cleared a 999-wave defense. No big deal?"
"Sounds like hard work."
"It was nothing."
Beside her stood another SSS-rank: Lee Yonghan. South Korea's finest buffer, who had stormed the 6th floor at Chaerin's side.
Korea had exactly seven SSS-ranks. Both of them counted as Wooseok's rivals. Always standing in Jeong Wooseok's shadow—yet unquestionably the nation's elite Awakeners.
"I hear Senior Wooseok keeled over, hmm?"
"He's resting."
"The Jeong Wooseok, barricaded at home? You must be worrying yourself sick, Director."
"I've still got you, don't I? And Wooseok's earned his rest—he did plenty."
With Wooseok unofficially retired, six SSS-ranks remained. And of those six, Lee Chaerin was South Korea's most powerful asset.
Chaerin settled onto the sofa and turned her eyes to the situation board.
"The US has already cleared the 9th floor, I see?"
The board's monitor was packed tight with every nation's Tower progress and its remaining time. America's remaining time: two years.
"Yeah. They called a few days ago to say they'd broken through."
"Did they share any of the stage info?"
"Not a word, the bastards. Said if we want to know so bad, we can build them a semiconductor plant. Fucking pricks. People's lives are on the line, and they're playing hardball."
"We're no better. We told Japan to hand back the cultural artifacts."
"That's hardly the same thing. When are you going in for the 7th floor?"
"Ha. Excuse me, Director? I literally just got back from clearing the 6th floor. I was buried inside that Tower for three whole months cracking the 999 waves. What's the big rush? I'm going to rest up first. Maybe take a little trip somewhere."
"You know as well as I do—this is no time to be taking it easy."
"I'm exhausted, Director. I'll go on my own schedule, and I'll get it done."
"..."
A handful of a woman. Wooseok was the gentleman of the two. But what could you do? With SSS-ranks, they were the ones holding all the leverage.
"Oh, that reminds me—in honor of clearing the 6th floor, I simply must take Senior Wooseok out for a nice meal."
Chaerin hummed a little tune, all sunshine.
Both SSS-rank, but Chaerin's public recognition fell far short of Wooseok's. When Wooseok landed ten endorsement deals, she managed three or four. A single floor's difference—yet depending on who cleared it first, the public's reaction was heaven and earth apart.
She had always broken through Hell one step behind Jeong Wooseok. Now she intended to pay back every last drop of the humiliation she'd swallowed.
"Don't go picking a fight with him for no reason. Leave him alone."
"Hehe. A fight? Perish the thought. I'm just paying my respects to my senior."
"I said no. Don't go."
"Aye aye, I'll do as I please. Anyway—seeing as I cleared the 6th floor so splendidly, isn't it about time you started fussing over yours truly, Lee Chaerin?"
"Haven't I been fussing all along?"
Like it or not. Lee Chaerin had five attempts at the 7th floor. He had no choice but to pin his hopes on her. He intended to support her with everything she could possibly need.
"I'll just help myself to the Awakener-exclusive jet, then~ Reservation, please~"
"..."
Once Chaerin was gone, Director Oh turned to Section Chief Jeong Heeju.
"Find out what Jeong Wooseok's been up to."
Section Chief Jeong looked into her phone. Awakeners of S-rank and above were designated the nation's highest-priority protection details. Every move they made outside the Tower was reported in real time.
A strange look crossed her eyes.
"Huh? He's at a bookstore?"
"A bookstore?"
"Yes. He appears to be... browsing manga?"
Wooseok, live and in real time: picking out manga at a bookstore.
"That punk. He's really advertising his retirement, loud and proud, isn't he."
Director Oh let out a long, heavy sigh.
'Bongshindang: closed for the day.'
Bonghyuk—who had bled from both nose and mouth after yesterday's divination—lay sprawled out at home.
"Wow. I'm dying. Genuinely dying."
His whole body throbbed as though he'd been beaten black and blue. Even twitching a single finger was a struggle. To think one divination could drain him down to the dregs. The price of peering into Hell difficulty, presumably.
There was no way he could take another reading in this state. Today was officially a day off.
His eyelids hung heavy as millstones. He was staring blankly at the ceiling when—
Ding-dong—
The doorbell rang.
'Ugh, who is it now... Not buying anything. Don't believe a word you say. I didn't order any delivery.'
But the bell kept on ringing. Ding-dong—ding-dong—
At last he dragged himself upright and opened the door.
"Huh?"
Familiar faces.
"Hi~"
"Hellooo..."
Jian and Doyeon.
"Wh-what's all this?"
At Bonghyuk's words, she held up the shopping bag in her hand.
"Bong-porridge?"
Porridge. They'd packed some up and come all this way because they'd heard he was sick.
"How did you two even find my place?"
"Bonghyuk-nim, your delivery address is registered with our Store, isn't it?"
"Ah..."
The JAN Store sold everyday goods too, so he'd registered his delivery address in the trade window. It had made a handy stand-in for Amazon.
"That's a personal data breach, you know..."
"Better than a man dying. We were worried about you. Are you feeling any better?"
"You okay, hyung?"
"Ah—yeah. I'm fine. Why don't you two come—"
He'd wanted to say come in. But one thought of the state of his studio and the words refused to leave his mouth. It was altogether too shabby for inviting anyone over.
But then, what was there to be ashamed of? This was Do Bonghyuk outside the Tower, after all.
"Come in. It's a dump, though."
The two stepped inside, sneaking glances around them. They tried not to make a show of it, but Bonghyuk caught every look. A bare-bones basement studio, gloomy even in broad daylight, because the sunlight barely reached it.
"Shaman Bonghyuk... you live in a place like this, and you funnel ALL the streaming revenue to me? I'll just go back to splitting it down the middle with you, really..."
Young Doyeon. No malice in him—but no tact either.
Sniff. Before long, tears were welling up in his eyes.
"No, no, I'm fine. What's wrong with this place?"
"R-right, it's cozy! It's nice."
Jian stepped in to smooth things over.
"Anyway, I don't have anything decent to offer you..."
"We didn't come to be waited on. Just lie back down."
Jian steered Bonghyuk back onto the single mattress, set the porridge out on the sink counter, and went hunting for bowls.
"You haven't eaten anything at all, have you?"
"No..."
"Have some porridge."
"Thank... you. But what about you two?"
"We're fine."
was the answer—until—
Grrrooowl—
Jian's stomach growled far, far too loudly. Her face flared scarlet.
"Ah, that was—um. Th-that's just the sound of digestion...!"
"...Would you at least have some ramen?"
Speaking for the speechless Jian, Doyeon popped to his feet.
"Oh! I'll boil it!"
"There's plenty in the cabinet. Ramen."
Doyeon set to work with practiced hands. As the aroma of the ramen filled the room, appetites stirred of their own accord.
A little folding table. They were all settling onto the floor around it, about to slurp ramen together, when—
Ding-dong—
The bell rang again. Both of them turned to Bonghyuk at once, wearing who now? looks.
But how was Bonghyuk supposed to know? He shot back a beats me? look of his own—and finally catching his meaning, Doyeon went and opened the door.
Through the half-open gap, something large and pitch-black loomed.
"Gah—Jeong Wooseok-nim?!"
Jeong Wooseok stood there, blank as a post. Bonghyuk could only gape.
"Now what do you want?"
Nobody had told him to come in, and in he strode anyway, long steps and all. Three people stared at him, dumbfounded.
'Why on earth is an SSS-rank here, of all places?'
"No, wait—more importantly, how did you find my house?!"
The moment Bonghyuk flared up—
"SSS-ranks know everything there is to know."
—he announced, and plopped himself down in front of the table.
"Mind if I have a bite of that ramen? I'm running on empty."
"Ah. Sure."
Jian agreed in a daze, and—slurp—Wooseok took a single mouthful.
"Samyang, huh."
An SSS-rank, and he was a one-bite man. And how on earth did he identify the brand from a single taste?
"You SSS-ranks eat ramen too?"
Somehow, Bonghyuk found himself talking casually. Wooseok had been speaking down to him from the very start anyway—there wasn't much reason to stand on ceremony.
"I'm human too. I like ramen."
"Uh-huh. So why'd you come?"
"Had something to ask before I go back into the Tower. You look like you're doing all right."
That's what he said, but he'd clearly come because he was worried about Bonghyuk. An easy man to read.
"You visit a sick man and come empty-handed?"
No retort to the jab—just more slurping. And then, a little later—
Ding-dong—
Along with the doorbell came a voice:
"Delivery!"
Doyeon darted to the door, and boxes stacked up neatly at the entrance, one after another. Inside were meat, porridge, instant soups—even fruit, packed in tidy rows until the boxes strained at the seams.
"Whoa, what is all this...? Shaman Bonghyuk, that's a good three months' worth of food right there?"
"Oh...?"
"Told you I didn't come empty-handed."
Not so much as a glance his way. Slurp.
"Left without paying a single won for your reading, but at least the conscience works."
"'Fee?' After all the free labor you've wrung out of me?"
Four of them sat knee to knee, slurping away. An SSS-rank he'd only ever seen on television, a streamer, and a merchant, all crowded onto his floor—what on earth was this situation?
"Cozy in here. Reminds me of the place I lived in as a kid."
"Not asking. Not curious."
"That's all I'm saying. Don't read into it."
"I wasn't reading into anything."
"Good, then."
Two people of roughly the same age. For some reason, to Jian's eyes they looked exactly like friends bickering.
"So. What was it you wanted to ask?"
At Bonghyuk's gruff question, Wooseok finally came to the point.
"Recommend me some manga."
"What?"
"Haven't read any in a good ten years. I'd have to know what's actually fun these days, wouldn't I."
Slurp.
Jeong Wooseok. Ever since his Awakening, life to him had been Tower, Tower, Tower. A fool who knew nothing in the world but the Tower.
"Manga? Hmm. The classics—One Piece, Naruto, Bleach—are the standards, obviously. Then there's One Punch Man, Jujutsu Kaisen, Hunter × Hunter... Ah—don't read Hunter × Hunter. You'll want to break out of wherever you're holed up and grab the author by the collar. You've at least read Slam Dunk and Dragon Ball, right?"
"Hmm."
As Bonghyuk rattled off titles, Wooseok muttered them over to himself, chewing on each one.
Jian and Doyeon looked back and forth between the two of them. Manga recommendations, out of nowhere? They hadn't heard the divination—there was no telling what the two were even talking about.
"Got any web novels to recommend too?"
"Don't read them."
With the three of them slurping away nonstop, the ramen hit bottom in no time.
"Should I boil another pack...?"
Doyeon asked—
"I'm good. I'm full."
—as Jeong Wooseok set down his chopsticks.
"Excuse me?! I've had one bite! I seriously cannot keep up with you men."
Jian looked utterly wronged.
"Ah. My bad."
In the end, Doyeon boiled two more packs.
Bonghyuk's basement studio, where no one had set foot in years. How long had it been since it was this full of people? Total chaos.
And yet—it didn't feel bad at all.
Past midnight that same day. The Tower lobby, all but deserted.
Someone stood before the gate.
It was Wooseok, a backpack stuffed to bursting with manga slung over his shoulders.
[ Do you wish to enter 'Hell'? ]
His lips were pressed into a hard line. Even now, at the very last moment, the words wouldn't come.
'Ha.'
He glared at the gate for a long, long while. At last, Wooseok opened his mouth.
"Enter. Hell, Floor 7."
The 'Hell' gate, wavering with an ominous light, swallowed Jeong Wooseok whole.
And then—
An all-white room unfolded before his eyes.
© KAY™#13lul
Author's Note: Entering Hell!