Entering the Labyrinth

The first Administrator of three floors.

There was no special reward that came with the title, but I could still feel a quiet sense of accomplishment. The Cartel had yet to appear, and the territories that would have become their roots were steadily falling into my hands.

I was curious about the situation on the Lower Floors, but there was no way to check. It wasn't that descending from the Labyrinth was impossible — it simply wasn't possible until after we reached the 20th Floor.

In other words, for now, confirmation was out of the question.

While the others rested after we'd claimed the 13th Floor Fixed Safe Zone, I was managing the 11th Floor Fixed Safe Zone.

"What are you doing?"

It was Joo Ha-yeon.

"I'm checking the 11th Floor Fixed Safe Zone."

"Can you actually see anything from that?"

"No. I can't see the situation itself, but I can tell who's entering and leaving. I can even see the trainees' names."

A function I hadn't known about. After poking around the interface, I'd discovered I could check the names of visitors as well.

"Names?"

"Yes."

I manipulated the administration window, and seven names scrolled into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠view.

Among them was a name I recognized.

Jin Sang-soo.

The boss of the Cartel that had once ruled two entire floors. The 18th and the 20th, if I remembered right.

The 20th Floor in particular had a fixed Labyrinth exit, and he'd reigned there like a king for a considerable stretch of time. He'd blocked the portal leading down to the Lower Floors and blocked the portal to the next floor as well, carving out a kingdom of his own. One of the worst trainees I'd ever known.

Until other greedy bastards betrayed him, the Cartel fractured, and he died, he'd wielded absolute, unchecked power.

I was a little disappointed, honestly.

Of all the people to come up first, it had to be those filthy bastards...

But something felt off.

Jin Sang-soo... wasn't particularly strong in a fight, was he?

He hadn't been complete trash, but I didn't remember him as a particularly powerful fighter either. And yet he was this fast? Something didn't add up.

"The administrator functions really are impressive... being able to see names and everything. You can't send messages or anything, can you?"

"Doesn't look like that function exists."

"That's a little disappointing..."

Reinforcing our combat strength. Joo Ha-yeon seemed to feel the need for it as well.

"Still, looking at the entry records, they seem to be putting in a decent effort," I told her. "Already two days in..."

"...What?"

The sound that came out of me was startled even to my own ears.

"What's wrong?"

"...A new party just arrived on the 12th Floor."

I checked the names at once. They were the same seven people we'd just been talking about. The same party, all of them.

"...That's fast."

Joo Ha-yeon looked surprised. I was surprised too. Two days after leaving, they'd already reached the next floor's Fixed Safe Zone. There was a chance they'd dropped dropped into a nearby location by coincidence, but even so, it was impressive.

No one was seriously injured. Meaning they weren't the kind of people who'd get hurt on the 12th Floor.

Which only deepened my questions.

I focused on one name among Jin Sang-soo's party members.

Han Ba-da.

The Cartel Jin Sang-soo had seized — self-styled the Blue Sea Faction, or the Blue Sea Cartel. After he died, someone else inherited it, but the name "Blue Sea" itself had persisted all the way through the Middle Floor and nearly to the Upper Floors. I remembered it eventually becoming a fairly powerful guild.

And coincidentally, one of the party members was named Han Ba-da — Han Sea. There had to be some connection.

He might have been someone significant to Jin Sang-soo. Then again, there had been a rumor that went around: Jin Sang-soo had originally murdered the true master of the Blue Sea and stolen the position. The name itself was a trophy, which was why the Cartel was called Blue Sea. The rumor claimed that the original owner was still being subjected to brutal torture at their stronghold, and that this person was actually the administrator of the 20th Floor Fixed Safe Zone.

The reason I remembered this little-known rumor was simple. Jin Sang-soo had once issued an order to find whoever was spreading it. He'd hunted down every last one of those rumor-mongers and killed them all, as I recalled.

But now that I had administrator privileges myself, the rumor struck me as nonsense. If it were true, all he'd have to do was expel the traitors. Administrator privileges included the authority to banish people. Jin Sang-soo had ruled the 20th Floor Fixed Safe Zone in a somewhat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠questionable manner, and that had gotten him killed — but I still considered the rumor unlikely to be true.

Joo Ha-yeon's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"By the way, didn't you say you'd leveled up earlier?"

"Ah. Yes, that's right. I did."

"So this floor actually gives proper experience, then. Are you planning to stay here for a while?"

There was a hint of anticipation in her voice.

"No. We're heading to the next floor immediately."

"Why?"

She seemed a little flustered. She clearly wanted to meet the party coming up. If necessary, adding members wouldn't be a bad idea, and joining forces wouldn't be terrible either. She was worried about Nam Eun-ju right now.

"I'd like to stay with Nam Eun-ju a little longer."

"...That's why I was saying we should add people..."

"Joining another party would be difficult. And even if we did run into another party, pulling one or two people from theirs would be even harder. They're more likely to already be a complete party themselves, aren't they?"

Joo Ha-yeon fell silent at that.

"And... it's true that Nam Eun-ju has the least talent among us."

"...Yes. That's true. But..."

"I know. I know she's working hard enough."

As I spoke, I checked where the others were. The Na-yeon sisters and Nam Eun-ju were chatting among themselves, looking like they were enjoying it. I turned my head and looked at Joo Ha-yeon as I continued.

"Even so, her actual growth has been a bit slow. But recently, she's been growing quite well."

"...That's right. So if she just keeps growing steadily like this..."

"Do you remember when that growth happened?"

"...What?"

"Nam Eun-ju watched my fights constantly, asked me questions, and absorbed every trick she could. Then she showed her true worth in the 12th Floor battle. The way she seemed to grow in real time back then — that definitely looked like potential."

"That's true."

"That's why. This floor isn't bad. Levels go up, stats go up — it's not a bad place for the party as we are now. But if I leave her in this kind of environment, I can't shake the feeling that Nam Eun-ju's momentum might stall right here."

She'd stop being desperate. Nam Eun-ju was adequate for the current level, but skill, by its nature, grew at its fastest when you were walking a tightrope along the razor edge of your own limits.

Of course, if you fell, you were likely to die, so it wasn't actually recommended. This wasn't some swordsmanship drill. This was live combat. But with me as insurance, the story changed. We had healing. We had Joo Ha-yeon. If I went all out, the number of beings in the Labyrinth that could stop me even briefly could be counted on one hand.

If she slipped on that tightrope, there was someone ready to catch her. Someone to analyze the cause of failure and give her feedback. That someone was all me, admittedly — but it was certainly a good environment for Nam Eun-ju to grow.

"...I'm glad. So you were thinking seriously about Eun-ju after all."

Joo Ha-yeon looked a little relieved that I was taking Nam Eun-ju seriously. She'd grown attached, I supposed.

Wait. Did she actually think I'd abandon her if she fell behind?

Why is my image like this? I thought I'd been holding back on the scummy stuff...

"Uh... isn't that obvious? You didn't actually think I'd dump her in the middle of the Labyrinth if she fell behind, did you?"

"...Not to that extent, but I did think you wouldn't look after her if she fell behind. At best she'd become a pack mule. Even protecting her would be hard."

Honestly, I'd been planning to use her that way for a while, so the remark stung a little. I'd told Nam Eun-ju that her role might change but I wouldn't abandon her — had Joo Ha-yeon overheard that? I'd considered pulling her into an administrative position later, but I hadn't planned to let her sit around doing nothing in the meantime. I'd figured she could get a taste of being a bottom-rung pack mule before moving into management...

Fortunately, her recent growth had improved, so I'd postponed that plan.

"But I'm glad you were properly worrying about her and thinking it through. I'm the one who should be grateful. Eun-ju is working so hard."

"...Why did you think I'd do that?"

"You're so strong, and yet you're never satisfied — always pushing toward the upper floors as fast as you can. You're fairly cold toward other people, and recently you even tried to push us away. That's why I thought that."

I flinched.

I was starting to think I shouldn't have done that. I hadn't expected her to come out and say it so bluntly... No — I'd told them it was to create a sense of tension. I'd thought they'd accepted that at the time, but apparently they hadn't actually bought it. They'd just let it go because they figured I didn't want to talk about it. Meaning they hadn't believed me from the start.

"Now that I'm asking... why did you try to push us away? I know the tension thing wasn't the real reason. Was it because we weren't useful? It's true that except for Seo-yoon — no, honestly, even Seo-yoon compared to you, Shin-hoo..."

"No."

I said it firmly.

"That's not it."

These people — even setting aside the Na-yeon sisters — Joo Ha-yeon had enough potential to become a useful priest given the investment I'd made in her, and even Nam Eun-ju was starting to seem reasonably trustworthy. In this Tower, a person you could trust was precious, no matter how weak they were. Every single one of them.

So I had no intention of abandoning them just because they were weak. ...Honestly, I'd wavered a bit on Nam Eun-ju, but recently I'd started thinking she was going to be fine.

"Then why did you do it? Honestly, I was scared. Our party is essentially built around you, Shin-hoo. If you left, I had no confidence we could even hold the party together. Do you know what the atmosphere was like when you pushed us away... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrogate you..."

The part about being scared seemed genuine. I hadn't expected anyone in the party — least of all Joo Ha-yeon, who'd been so careful never to cross me — to say something like this. She seemed to realize she'd gone too far midway through and apologized immediately, but she was still watching my expression.

"...I'm sorry. Honestly, I never intended to push you away. I just... felt I needed to draw a line."

"......Why?"

I couldn't think of an excuse. What was I supposed to say here? I came back in time, and in the first round I played the sucker way too much. I was afraid that if we got any closer, I'd turn into a sucker all over again. If I let myself get ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠swept up in my feelings, there's a real chance I'd go down the same way I did the first time. I couldn't exactly say that, could I?

Or: If we get too close, I'm afraid I won't be able to abandon you easily. If I let my heart lead me, I can't save Earth. I couldn't say that either.

The first one made me sound like complete garbage. The second made me sound like a chuunibyou lunatic with a messiah complex.

At times like this, I really resented the fact that most of the Korean trainees had no idea Earth was in danger. If I confessed that I'd been keeping up with the early-morning news and that's how I knew, the party would probably believe me. But it might just as easily create anxiety and scare them. Things were at a reasonable difficulty right now — if I told them we had to hunt Giants straight out of mythology, I had no idea how ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they'd react.

It was close enough to a gamble that I was reluctant to take it.

I thought it over for a long time. Joo Ha-yeon, now that things had come this far, seemed determined to get a proper answer this time, and she kept staring at me.

Feeling her gaze grow sharper by the second, I finally, after much deliberation, offered the excuse I'd barely managed to come up with.