A Taste of the Second Floor

"One thousand."

Huh? What did he just say?

"Come on, take another close look. There's no way this is only worth a thousand magic stones, right...?"

This was my personal clear reward from conquering the Quiet Abyssal Temple, an actual Special Dungeon. Back in the real world, brokers said it was worth at least two hundred million won. At fifty thousand won a pop, two hundred million converted to four thousand low-grade magic stones. Selling it outside was a bit tricky, though, and even if I found a buyer, auction brokerages took a hefty cut. I thought selling it right here in the Arcana Market would be pure profit, but...

"What kind of robbery is this...?"

"Four thousand for a crude piece of junk like that? Heh, do not utter such preposterous nonsense. Shoddy trash of this caliber cannot even be listed for sale in the Arcana Market."

Wait, seriously? Was it really that bad? It was a reward from a Special Dungeon, for crying out loud! Other items that dropped from those runs routinely commanded tens of millions or hundreds of millions of won without breaking a sweat.

"One thousand is merely the appraisal value under the assumption that we dismantle it post-purchase to extract raw materials," the diamond golem continued coolly. "As a finished product, it possesses no practical value whatsoever."

Oof. Talk about ruthless. But as I listened to the merchant's flat breakdown, it actually started making sense. It wasn't as if he was wrong.

"Well... fair enough."

I knew better than anyone just how absurdly overpowered the inventory in the Arcana Market was. Sure, the prices weren't cheap, but Awakened gear was always overpriced anyway. Nothing in this industry came with a modest price tag. In the outside world, a plain Ink-Black Sword with practically no bonus stats traded for tens of millions of won.

Then again, making money in this line of work is fast and easy...

Take my own situation over the past few days. By diligently grinding low-tier dungeons, I had hauled in around seven to eight hundred magic stones, and that was after excluding miscellaneous monster drops. Converting that to cold, hard cash yielded nearly forty million won. It sounded like a fortune on paper, but out in the market, that was barely enough to buy a single mediocre piece of gear—gear that would become utterly obsolete the moment your level crept up a notch or two.

By contrast, what about the items sold here in the Arcana Market? There was no comparison. The lineup I had purchased so far defied all common sense.

Energy Bolt, Rootlet of the Ten-Thousand-Year Fleeceflower, Rift Opening, Worn Bow for Young Fairies, and the Green Wood Thumb Ring.

Just looking at the roster gave me chills. Some had cost a mere hundred magic stones, while the fleeceflower rootlet had eaten a steep thousand. Yet every single one of them delivered mind-boggling performance. Had I regretted spending a thousand stones on that dried root? Not for a single second. Consuming it had boosted my mana capacity all the way from F-rank to D-rank in one sitting.

Consider the Lowest-Grade Mana Elixir sold back home—the cheapest consumable standard Awakened traded. Rumor had it you could chug that stuff like tap water and still fail to bump your capacity up by a single tier. Higher-grade elixirs yielded better odds, but their prices scaled straight into the stratosphere. Yet an elixir from the Arcana Market had granted a two-tier leap for just a thousand stones. If someone brought a potion like that out into the world, billionaires and guild masters would swarm with blank checks.

Wait a second. If that's the case, what if I buy cheap goods here and flip them to other Awakened...?

"Just in case you are entertaining foolish ideas," the golem interjected smoothly, "you are strictly forbidden from circulating goods purchased from the Arcana Market into external realms."

Wait, what? Could this golem read minds? Truly living up to its sparkling diamond skull.

"Every once in a while, a customer gets cute and tries exactly that," the golem rumbled.

"Ah, I see..."

"Should you harbor even the faintest inclination, I strongly advise abandoning it. If an unqualified customer distributes market merchandise externally, all ties between you and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠our establishment will be permanently severed."

In short: sneak goods out to flip for cash, and I'd be permanently banned from the Arcana Market. That would be an absolute disaster.

"Aha, come on, of course not! I'd never dream of doing something like that."

"Hmph..."

Still, my mind latched onto a specific phrase. An unqualified customer. Did that imply that once a customer earned proper qualifications, they *could* sell merchandise externally? If that were possible, it would be an absolute goldmine. I could buy a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠few decent trinkets here, sell them outside for mountains of magic stones, and funnel those stones straight back into high-grade elixirs. The sheer efficiency made my mouth water.

I was already starting to crave other elixirs anyway...

My daily routine over the past few days had settled into a rigid rhythm: first, slam a full-output Energy Bolt into the target on the First Floor of the Tower of Transcendence. Second, burn through the three remaining Energy Bolts while clearing Earth dungeons with my fairy bow. Going through that loop every single day had made one fact abundantly clear: my physical constitution was shockingly weak. Firing the bow a few dozen times left me completely wiped out.

It didn't trigger outright Mana Exhaustion, but I was usually too spent to do anything else. Every morning I rolled out of bed with a groaning wheeze. I was lucky that Energy Bolt and the elven bow packed such devastating punch, and luckier still that I stuck strictly to E- and F-rank dungeons. The moment I stepped into C-rank territory or higher where monsters swarmed in endless packs, my stamina would give out long before my spells did.

And the reason was painfully obvious.

My base aptitudes were still an absolute tragedy. Any ordinary Awakened stuck with numbers like these would have thrown in the towel. Industry common sense dictated that innate aptitude was set in stone at awakening, practically impervious to human effort. But my unique profession was Climber. With the right items and enough magic stones, raising them was entirely within reach.

"Well, for now, I'll hang on to this," I said, stowing the crimson weapon away.

"You are not selling it?"

"Nope."

No matter how cash-strapped I felt, letting a spear worth two hundred million go for a measly thousand stones was out of the question. I could always sell it back on Earth. Granted, offloading it right away carried its own headaches.

Ever since tasting the sweet buzz of public attention after my awakening, I had made a habit of browsing the Hunter forums. One post in particular had caught my eye earlier that morning.

The comment section beneath was buzzing with fiery debate.

That was the general consensus. But seeing those posts pop up by the dozen did little to soothe my nerves. Reading through them, my gut whispered that the paranoia was entirely justified. In fact, I had harbored similar suspicions long before reading the thread.

About a year ago, when Lee Mungi vanished, the media had erupted into chaos. I had binge-watched coverage and read dozens of think pieces back then, concluding even as an ordinary civilian that something stank to high heaven. And if there ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was even a shred of a chance that I could end up in the crosshairs next, playing it safe was the only sensible choice.

That meant holding off on high-profile transactions until I acquired a foolproof way to conceal my identity. Rumor had it that certain specialized skills allowed Awakened to trade anonymously. Hoping the market carried something similar, I broached the question to the counter.

"Of course such abilities exist," the diamond golem replied without hesitation. "It costs three hundred magic stones. Shall I retrieve it?"

Jackpot. As expected of the Arcana Market, they had everything under the sun. It was an essential purchase, but before parting with the stones, another curiosity tugged at me.

"Earlier, you mentioned that unqualified customers aren't permitted to sell merchandise outside. How exactly does one obtain that qualification?"

If you don't know, you ask.

"Multiple conditions apply," the golem explained smoothly. "However, the most fundamental criterion is your reached floor within the Tower of Transcendence."

"The floor count?"

"Each branch holds different criteria, but such is the standard for the Tower of Transcendence branch. A customer must prove their worth before being granted such privileges."

The Tower of Transcendence. That rang a bell. The Transcendent seniors I met previously, Cheok Jun-gyeong and Huang Zhong, had said something peculiar before departing.

A sudden itch of curiosity flared up in my chest. The next floor—the Second Floor of the Tower of Transcendence. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to poke my head in and see what kind of trial was waiting?

"I'll be right back," Kim Haun announced cheerfully, turning toward the doorway. "Keep that trading skill on hand, will you? I'll come straight back to buy it."

"As you wish," the golem replied.

The moment the youth's footsteps faded toward the portal leading to the Second Floor, the air in the corner rippled. With a soft chime, an intricate cloak of invisibility dissolved, and the Archmage Merlin stepped out from the empty space.

"Is that lad the new Climber?" Merlin murmured, stroking his silver beard. "The one who shattered the First Floor's historical record?"

"Indeed, Lord Merlin," the golem bowed slightly. "A most peculiar specimen."

"Hmm... certainly seems that way."

Merlin had already heard rumors of the boy's strange nature, which was precisely what had drawn him to the market's branch office. An ordinary mortal registered as a Climber, wielding unrefined Primordial Force and ascending the Tower of Transcendence—it was an anomaly far too tantalizing for a scholar of magic to ignore.

"My timing couldn't have been better," the ancient mage chuckled softly. He had expected to wait an eternity, given that time meant little to Transcendents, yet the boy had strolled right into his lap. And now, he was marching off to challenge the Second Floor without a second thought.

"How amusing."

"What is your assessment, Lord Merlin? Do you believe that reckless fledgling can conquer the Second Floor as well?"

"Hmm. We shall have to observe," Merlin mused. He knew Cheok Jun-gyeong and Huang Zhong had expressed strange confidence in the boy's chances. But as far as Merlin was concerned, those two were brute-force martial artists who solved everything by swinging their fists or drawing bows; what could muscle-brained fighters possibly comprehend about the subtler laws of dimensional ascension?

"After all, the Second Floor operates on a concept entirely diametric to the First," Merlin noted.

The First Floor's trial demanded that challengers suppress their boundless power to an absolute extreme. The Second Floor, however, was nearly the opposite. Rather than suppressing one's inner nature, the trial forced the challenger to confront their essence directly and overcome it through raw will.

"Indeed..." the golem agreed. "It is not uncommon for challengers to lose their minds attempting to clear it."

"Precisely." Even Merlin himself, whose very existence had been intertwined with arcane mystery for centuries, had endured immense trials before clearing it. "Still, given how utterly miniscule his innate mana and strength are to begin with, a little polish might just see him through."

It was an unprecedented case, which made the boy an irresistible research subject. Merlin already had a plan forming in his mind: wait for the boy to suffer a crushing defeat, stage a chance encounter, drop a few sage words of wisdom to guide him, and gradually take him under his wing as a student.

Just as Merlin smiled at the prospect, the golem's gemstone eyes flickered erratically.

"Um... Lord Merlin?"

"What is it?"

"It appears... the lad has already cleared the Second Floor."

Merlin blinked. "Pardon?"

Merlin's jaw went slack. Hadn't the boy literally just stepped through the gate? How in the name of the stars was he already done?!