The Climber's Notebook

China dropped a diplomatic bombshell: the unilateral cancellation of the S-Rank Awakened Dispatch Agreement.

Three days later, a far bigger bomb detonated on South Korean soil.

"The location is Dangjin, Chungnam Province. While initial readings classified it as an A-rank... an on-site reconnaissance team confirmed that the internal monsters belong to the absolute upper crust even among A-rank beasts."

"Which means..."

"It is on the highest tier of A-rank difficulty. In practical terms, we must treat it as a dungeon on par with S-rank."

Seoul, South Korea.

Inside the Strategic Operations Room on the third floor of the Awakened Management Bureau, the strategic analysis team leader concluded his briefing. The moment the report ended, a deep sigh accompanied by a bitter curse spilled from the lips of Director Ko Jinhyuk.

"Hah... Those damn Chinese bastards."

They had dropped their announcement knowing full well this was coming. Their prized S-rank sensory Awakened, Liu Wei, would have pinpointed the dungeon's impending emergence well in advance. No wonder they had suddenly and shamelessly torn up the agreement without warning.

"We expected some form of retaliation after claiming the national buff, but still..." an executive muttered bitterly.

Director Ko Jinhyuk nodded grimly in agreement. Yes, they had seen it coming. Yet he had naively hoped the other side would at least retain a shred of diplomatic decency.

"It only proves how devastating EX-jwa's existence was to them," another official remarked.

He was not wrong. Material fallout aside, it had dealt a devastating blow to their monstrous, imperial pride. That aligned precisely with the psychological profile the Bureau held on China—and on Luo Qin himself. It was why their retaliation was so flagrant and unapologetic.

"Of all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠people, why did thugs like that have to sit at world number one..."

Thugs.

It was the most fitting term imaginable. They had earned that moniker long ago. For years, Luo Qin had reigned at the apex while maintaining a polite, gentlemanly veneer, but the second things slipped from his control, the mask was discarded without hesitation.

"Not that we ever expected any better from that lot."

They were bullies to the core. What stoked far greater fury, however, was what was happening right at home.

"Fucking journalists."

How many days had passed since EX-jwa conquered the Special Dungeon? Mere days ago, those very same tabloids had hailed him as the savior of the nation. Now, as if they had simply been waiting for an excuse, they were frantically piling every ounce of blame onto his shoulders.

"No wonder our high-tier Awakened all flee the country."

Historically, Korea had always been a peculiar hotbed for rare talent. Was the nation lacking in high-tier Awakened? Far from it. Beyond Lee Mungi, who had once been the country's beacon of hope, quite a few S-rank Awakened had emerged over the years. The problem lay elsewhere.

"It's the exact same playbook foreign powers run every single time, isn't it?"

Indeed. This time it was China, but Japan, Russia, and the United States had all played the same dirty game. They shook the political landscape with diplomatic pressure, stirred public panic through manipulated press coverage to fracture domestic unity, and then secretly poached the unsettled high-ranking Awakened during the turmoil. It was an age-old routine that foreign superpowers had run into the dirt. Yet knowing their strategy changed nothing.

"The other nations are practically standing by as spectators," the analyst continued. "Officially, they claim they must preserve their military assets due to rising domestic threat levels, but China almost certainly pressured them behind closed doors."

Just like that, the nation found itself unable to resolve the immediate crisis threatening its borders. A textbook Catch-22. To make matters worse—

"We just received word from the higher-ups," an aide spoke up hesitantly. "A faction of lawmakers is demanding we uncover EX-jwa's identity so the government can officially apologize to China..."

"What? Those deranged bastards..."

Incompetent parasites. Could they not comprehend what EX-jwa had accomplished in just the past few days? When they should have been moving heaven and earth to shield him, they wanted to do what?

"Hah."

"How should we respond, Director?"

"Respond with what? We don't even know who EX-jwa is in the first place... Just ignore them."

"Will that be all right?"

"Of course it won't. They'll throw a hysterical fit. But what else are we supposed to do? Do they have some brilliant solution?"

"......"

Of course they didn't. How could anyone find someone who moved like an ethereal phantom? If they were so desperate, they could track him down themselves. Pathetic cowards.

"Enough. Let's focus on our own duty."

"Yes, sir."

"Run a tactical simulation. With our current domestic combat strength, can we conquer that near-S-rank dungeon?"

It was a question asked despite already knowing the answer. Predictably, the atmosphere in the operations room plummeted. The only one capable of offering an answer was the strategic analysis team leader.

"Well... Even if we mobilized every single A-rank hunter in the country, the probability of success would remain below ten percent."

"Below ten percent even if everyone rallied..."

"And as you well know, Director, there is zero chance our elite Awakened would willingly assemble for a suicide mission of that scale. In reality, it is impossible."

"Which means we have no choice but to beg other nations for aid."

It was infuriating, but there was no alternative. If they abandoned the dungeon, they would have to swallow catastrophic civilian casualties.

"Could EX-jwa clear it? He materialized out of nowhere to conquer the Special Dungeon last time..." one executive murmured.

"Out of the question," the team leader replied firmly. "His combat prowess is beyond dispute, but his level is simply far too low."

Indeed. Level was the ultimate bottleneck. No matter how absurdly fast his clear speeds were, an Awakened could enter the Tower of Despair only once per day. Even assuming EX-jwa climbed daily without taking a single breath of rest, his absolute cap was one level per day.

"As everyone is well aware, the bare minimum level required for even an S-rank Awakened to solo an A-rank dungeon is in the forties."

In short, it was an impossibility. A Dungeon Break would ravage the province long before he could reach that threshold.

"Hah... Whether it's EX-jwa or a miracle from the heavens, I'd give anything for that damn dungeon to just vanish," Director Ko Jinhyuk murmured under his breath.

Of course, there was no chance in hell such a miracle would occur.

"Hmm... Everyone's losing their minds over this A-rank dungeon."

South Korea was teetering five minutes away from complete chaos, and naturally, Kim Haun was fully aware of it. In fact, he was quite likely the very first person in the country to know.

Among the dimensional rifts he could forcefully unlock, one entry stood out boldly:

It sat proudly on his list. In fact, prior to unlocking, it had originally displayed a countdown:

Seeing that B-rank dungeons never showed advance timers, it seemed only A-rank rifts and above granted an early warning window.

"Does that mean S-ranks will show up on this list eventually too?"

Right now, it was hopelessly beyond him. But if he reached a point where he could crack them open and conquer them at will, the profits would be unimaginable.

He had read about it in community databases. A-rank and S-rank dungeons were catastrophic hazards that ordinary raid squads couldn't even dream of touching, but clearing one was like hitting the cosmic lottery. Never mind the staggering quantity of high-grade mana stones—the secondary drop rewards alone were enough to turn anyone's eyes white with greed.

"Not that it matters right now. An A-rank is still impossible."

Even though Kim Haun routinely strolled in and out of the divine Tower of Transcendence—a realm scaled exclusively by transcendent demigods—his actual character profile told a much humbler story.

He was a fledgling among fledglings sitting at level 14. And that was only because he had cleared the 13th floor early this morning.

Perhaps that explained the prevailing mood across the Awakened forums:

The vast majority of comments echoed that sentiment.

'Except... D-rank isn't my ceiling at all.'

Just earlier today, he had flattened a B-rank dungeon without a hitch.

"I didn't even have to touch this thing..."

He had picked up the emergency scroll yesterday while blasting through a C-rank dungeon. Feeling secure with an escape hatch in his pocket, he had decided to test his mettle against a B-rank—and to his surprise, it had fallen far more easily than anticipated.

Granted, navigating the labyrinthine interior took over an hour, but walking away with 720 mana stones for an hour's worth of effort was a return on investment that defied common sense.

"Still... an A-rank is probably out of the question."

The news reports had taken great pains to stress that Dangjin's gate wasn't an ordinary A-rank, but an ultra-hard variant bordering on S-rank. If he had the power, he would love nothing more than to obliterate it. The sheer wealth of dungeon rewards was tempting enough, but even more than that, watching the Chinese government strut around like imperial overlords thoroughly irritated him. He had harbored a distaste for Luo Qin from the very start.

The fact that their high-ranking bloodhounds were actively sniffing around for his identity only deepened his disdain. But annoyance was annoyance, and reality was reality. What you couldn't do, you couldn't do. An A-rank dungeon...? It was still beyond him.

"Hmm..."

Wait. Was it truly impossible?

He had amassed quite a collection. If a game-breaking relic popped out of the gold box, who knew what could happen? A sudden spark of anticipation flared in his chest.

'Time to go open some gacha.'

Ding-dong!

'Yep, that VIP is me.'

At first, the chime had felt mortifying, but after hearing it enough times, he had grown remarkably desensitized to the fanfare.

"Oh... You've arrived."

And then there was this senior. Seriously, when did this venerable grand magus ever go home? It felt like he was loitering in the shop every single time Haun dropped by.

"Senior Merlin, do you just live here now?"

"Did I not tell you previously? A magnificent inspiration struck me regarding the fourth floor of the Tower of Transcendence. Naturally, I had to remain if I wished to see how you tackled it."

<What took you so long to get here?>

The telepathic rumble from Cassius the golem echoed with blunt irritation. Haun blinked innocently. 'How on earth was I supposed to know you were waiting?'

"In any ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠case, this is splendid," Merlin said, stroking his beard. "Let us discuss the fourth floor without delay."

The fourth floor? That sounded fantastic, but...

"Could I open this first before we get into it?"

"This? Do you have something to open?"

"Yes, sir."

Business came before pleasantries. The mystery gold box—he had been itching to see what was inside. Who knew? Even Senior Merlin might find it fascinating. After all, even Cassius had nearly popped his stone eyeballs out when he first laid eyes on the shop interface.

"Just give me one second."

Haun focused his intent and accessed his inventory.

'Aha, here we go.'

Haun selected [Open Shop]. With a melodious chime, an otherworldly boutique interface manifested out of thin air.

"Oho... What in the heavens is this?" Merlin's eyes widened in genuine wonder. "I do not believe I have ever seen such a mechanism before. What manner of treasure emerges from there?"

'See? It's your first time seeing it too, isn't it, Senior?'

"Yes, sir. Last time, it spat out a VIP Membership."

"A VIP Membership emerged from that? Well, I'll be..."

What kind of wonder would appear this time?

"I'll open it right away."

With another lively chime, three floating chests materialized in front of him: bronze, silver, and gold. The prices were displayed above them:

Only one chance per visit. Without a sliver of hesitation, Haun pressed his hand against the radiant gold chest.

Clack—

The latch sprang open with a heavy, satisfying metallic ring. What emerged was a notebook bound in leather of a subtle, deeply refined hue.

"Oh...?"

Haun reached out and grasped the book. 'What the heck is this?'