The Gacha Pulls a Challenger

The easiest way to grow a skill was, of course, to use items. Pop a skill-level-up item, or grind away with a training item that boosted proficiency, and your levels practically climbed on their own.

But needless to say, unless you were sitting on a mountain of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠money, those options were off the table — so most people just trained hard the old-fashioned way. And now, it had been proven that my Parallel World Gallery counted as legitimate training even when I was just shitposting on it.

"Whoa. So this actually works."

Granted, it felt less like training and more like landing the final blow on a bar of experience I'd already built up just by using the Gallery — but hey, who's complaining. The important thing was that goofing off in the Gallery had finally given me an alibi. You know how it is: screw around in your room doing nothing and you're a freeloader, but earn money doing it and suddenly you're a freelancer.

Anyway, I'd leveled up, so I decided it was time to welcome the newest gallery member.

The moment I logged into the Parallel World Gallery and settled my grudge match with the Druid, I noticed what had changed: a brand-new button had appeared right next to the Member Gacha.

"Finally, a new feature."

Exciting as the new button was, the gacha came first, so I hammered the pull button without a second thought. Once again the dazzling wheel began to spin, and a parade of countless Kim Namus flickered past.

"As long as it's not another Room Outsider, I'll take anything."

By now it was obvious that the handles displayed on that wheel were names reflecting each version's identity. They hadn't chosen them themselves, after all — when I'd asked the Azure Sky Sword Emperor last time whether he'd picked his own name, he'd said no. Apparently the Gallery assigned one automatically the moment you joined.

I was mulling that over when the wheel finished its spin almost before I noticed, and slowed to a stop.

The Challenger. Judging by the name alone, someone who kept throwing themselves at challenges of some kind — but challenges of what, exactly?

Don't tell me this time it was a me who'd been reincarnated in another world and become a hero? Like, a chosen champion defying the Demon King or something of that flavor.

Nursing a sliver of that hope, I waited for the new member's first post — and sure enough, a post from the Challenger appeared almost instantly. Along with something else.

"Hmm... I want absolutely nothing to do with either of those."

I could probably ignore the Druid's thread for a while, but I was dying to know why the Challenger was this furious, so I clicked into the Challenger's post first.

So, for the very first time in Member Gacha history, I appeared to have pulled a dud.

After dumping abuse on me for a good long while, the Challenger finally seemed to calm down enough to speak like a human being again.

Whoops. My mouth had gone and snarked on pure habit again.

Now that was the attitude of someone who knew the Gallery very well indeed. I could let the Azure Sky Sword Emperor and the Druid slide — their worlds didn't have the internet — but why on earth did the Challenger hate galleries this much?

Sniping? Don't tell me this person...

I genuinely couldn't help being astonished. To think I had that much star quality and gift of gab in me.

Which meant that the me standing here right now could also become a famous broadcaster if I just put in a little effort, no?

And her rank was apparently sky-high, too. Somewhere out there existed a worldline where I worked hard, got good at games, sharpened my banter, won a following, and made serious money doing it. This was nothing less than the perfect version of me — not "Kim Namu, twentysomething, employment gap: yes," but "Kim Namu, employed, work experience: yes."

Which was exactly why I wanted to hear everything this person had to say. If I could just absorb that know-how now, wouldn't there come a day I could put it to use?

Of course, I wasn't saying I'd quit the hunter business and swear off the Tower. But I wasn't earning a cent off the Tower at the moment either, so keeping a spare money-making angle in my back pocket was, I'd argue, simply the proper posture of a working adult.

The Azure Sky Sword Emperor had a point — I definitively had no talent for games. No matter how hard I grinded, I could never claw my way out of rock-bottom iron tier.

But!

Right in front of me stood a successful version of Kim Namu. Her success story burned in my mind like a curiosity I had to satisfy.

Not he — she, apparently. That entirely unexpected bombshell left all three of us utterly speechless.

No, wait, hold on. If that's the case, then I can't copy her, can I?

Aaah...

My dream of a million-subscriber no-commentary channel. The bright future I'd been dreaming of, however briefly, had just evaporated.

Even so, I still had my proud profession to fall back on: hunter. Sure, technically I was an unregistered illegal hunter since I hadn't filed the paperwork yet, but that was fine. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Because the future where I climbed to the high floors, got rich, and lived large was already guaranteed.

And besides — there was that other new feature that had appeared when the Parallel World Gallery hit level 3.

A button with the utterly bizarre name of Member Quest had materialized out of nowhere. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had no idea what it did, so I pressed it immediately — and three options floated up before my eyes.

"Whoa."

The admiration escaped me the instant I laid eyes on the options.

"Who needs a streaming career? Hunters really do surpass all."

I clicked straight into the Azure Sky Sword Emperor's quest. Sure, the Challenger's Physique and the Keen Sense of Smell both sounded nice, but the foundation of my Tower climbing right now was the Azure Dragon Sword Art and the Azure Dragon Heart Technique. A quest that leveled up both of them in one go? That was a prize too sweet to pass up even if it turned out to be useless.

The rewards were so irresistibly sweet that I'd accepted on the spot — only to be slapped with the absurd objective of helping him break through to a higher realm.

"Are you kidding me? How is this E-rank?"

And this, mind you, while I was already running a regular drip-feed of fan content to keep the man from rage-quitting the Gallery. And now this quest, of all things, lands on my plate.

"If I could do this, I'd have done it ages ago."

If I tried to look on the bright side, the one mercy was that accepting the Sword Emperor's quest hadn't made the other options vanish. But suffocating was suffocating either way, so I decided to ask the man himself directly.

I wracked my brain, but no clever phrasing was going to materialize — there was nothing for it but to tell him straight. So I explained the new feature and the quest I'd just received. The Challenger was conspicuously absent from the thread by then; she'd presumably gone back to grinding ranked.

But the Azure Sky Sword Emperor was evidently thinking along entirely different lines — because out of nowhere, he began to pin his hopes on me.