A Free Pass to Primordial Force

The first floor of the Tower of Transcendence.

According to the stone golem Cassius, it was a trial where countless Transcendents had shed blood, sweat, and tears in bone-grinding torment. And the reason was almost laughable: for godlike beings overflowing with reality-bending power, suppressing their vast auras all the way down to the level of a fragile, ordinary human was agonizingly difficult.

Well, look at that. An ordinary, fragile human was precisely what I was.

Naturally, I didn't hesitate for a second.

Until now, I hadn't dared to even imagine setting foot in this place. Yet the sight greeting my eyes the moment I opened them was unexpectedly mundane.

"It's... way more normal than I thought."

The Tower of Despair had been utter chaos from the start, opening up with sprawling boundless grasslands and rolling ocean shores. But here? It felt like something entirely different.

"A gymnasium?"

Or maybe an old martial arts dojo. It had that sort of stripped-down, hollow vibe. If not for the lone dummy planted right in the center of the wooden hall, I might have questioned whether I had actually entered the legendary Tower of Transcendence at all.

"So that's the famous scarecrow, huh?"

At a glance, it looked like nothing more than a bundle of dried straw tied to a wooden cross. But peel back that rustic exterior, and it was anything but normal. What had Cassius called it again? An entity attuned to the absolute limits of sensitivity toward Primordial Force.

<Even the faintest wisp of residual aura will grind it into dust,> the golem had grumbled in my head. <Most Transcendents failed the moment they took a single step toward it, or so the records say.>

That was what he had warned, but...

Step, step.

I walked right up to it, stopping just a foot away. "Hmm..."

Not even a single piece of straw rustled. It stood perfectly intact.

<Naturally, nearly every Transcendent was hailed as an unrivaled prodigy in their youth,> Cassius's voice echoed in my memory. <They quickly adapted, suppressing their might enough to close the distance. But the instant they threw a strike—shatter.>

Tap.

I reached out and flicked the straw torso with my knuckles.

Still completely fine.

The tally even ticked up by one.

A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. "I knew it. I had a feeling this would be a total walk in the park."

The scarecrow reacted exclusively to the transcendent essence known as Primordial Force. The clear condition demanded perfect, microscopic control over that cosmic power, throttling it until the user's presence mirrored that of an utterly ordinary human. But from the very beginning, I was an ordinary human. I didn't possess a single droplet of Primordial Force to restrain.

In other words...

"Thanks for the free handout!"

Tap.

Three, four, and five followed in effortless succession. I gave the straw bundle three more gentle pats, exactly like knocking on a neighbor's front door.

Ting!

I blinked at the shimmering golden letters hovering before my face.

"Wait... what? Enlightenment? Me?"

I had gained enlightenment. Just like that, out of nowhere.

The funny thing was, I didn't feel like I had enlightened a damn thing. But since the system proclaimed it with such grand fanfare, checking my status was an absolute must.

"Primordial Force."

"Oh..."

A faint, deep-seated warmth nestled somewhere in my chest, distinct from the clear, cool current of ordinary mana. Something really had awakened within me. Primordial Force—the very cosmic energy Cassius had just been lecturing me about, the foundational power required to step beyond mortal limits and become a true Transcendent.

And I got it just by tapping a scarecrow five times?

"What an absolute jackpot."

I didn't fully grasp what its attributes or practical applications were yet, but there was zero chance it was bad. It was the defining hallmark of cosmic powerhouses, after all. And if I had just gained something that absurd, shouldn't I take it out for a spin?

"Might as well see what it can do."

"To the Tower."

A translucent interface fluttered open, offering its dual destinations. I selected the planetary proving ground.

A full day had passed since clearing the 2nd floor yesterday. The daily reset had refreshed the climb.

"Hell yeah. Send me straight up."

I didn't even bother looking up strategy guides this time. I'd skimmed a post on the Awakener forums yesterday claiming that floors one through four were essentially an extended tutorial. Unless someone actively tried to off themselves, there was practically no mortal danger.

Flash!

The setting was another sunlit sandy beach. And the targets? Chunky, shelled reptiles crawling languidly across the dunes at a snail's pace.

Still...

"They look quite a bit bigger than the crabs yesterday."

They weren't called giant turtles for nothing; each shell looked as wide as a compact car. To make matters worse, they were scattered far and wide across a vast stretch of coastline. At this rate, even if I detonated an Energy Bolt with the radius from the 2nd floor, a few stragglers at the fringes might survive the blast.

Well, whatever.

"Not like it matters."

I had a strange hunch tugging at my instincts ever since that notification flashed in the Tower of Transcendence.

'You have partially comprehended the method of regulating power.'

Was it thanks to that subtle revelation? For the first time since my awakening, I felt like I could actually grip the reins on my wild, unruly mana pool instead of watching it violently discharge all at once.

Let's test the theory.

I drew a breath and invoked the spell. "Energy Bolt."

"Oh!"

It didn't balloon into a miniature moon! The sensation coursing through my palms was fundamentally different from yesterday's chaotic eruption.

Bzzzzzzt!

Of course, compared to a textbook Energy Bolt that normal mages fired—which was typically the size of a baseball—it was still utterly monstrous. In rough terms, it had expanded to about the size of the sphere I dropped on that poor Minotaur in Eunhasu Park.

"Still, compared to yesterday... this counts as a massive success in throttle control."

At the very least, I hadn't dumped every single drop of mana into a single reckless shot. I actually had reserves left over in my tank! Which meant I didn't need to bet everything on one localized apocalypse. I could fire one, and then immediately chuck another.

I snapped my wrist forward.

KABOOOOOOOM!

The beach was gone, replaced by a smoking glass crater filled with roasted turtle shells.

"Wait, already?"

The 3rd-floor trial had ended in thirteen seconds.

"What just happened?"

The blast volume was noticeably smaller than yesterday's catastrophe, but the destructive density had been on an entirely different level. It felt several times more potent—compacted, refined, and lethal.

"Is it really because of that Primordial Force?"

Honestly, there wasn't any other explanation. A sudden spike in output like this didn't come from thin air.

Ah! Times like this, I should run to the shop and ask Cassius.

Unfortunately, I had just completed my daily trip to the Tower of Transcendence and popped back out. I couldn't just casually stroll back in until tomorrow. Can't be helped, then. The only way to gather more data was to run another field test.

"Are there any uncleared Gates or wild dungeons nearby...?"

The tower wasn't the only proving ground in the world. Testing my firepower against monsters in an active municipal Gate would work just as well.

I pulled out my phone and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠checked the real-time Gate alert app.

"......"

Zero. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Not a single red ping within a twenty-mile radius.

Wait, does South Korea seriously have this many active Awakeners?!

The moment an anomaly or raid rift cracked open, local strike teams and corporate guilds descended upon it like hungry vultures, obliterating the bosses before the general public even finished evacuating. Where was an independent guy supposed to find a live target to test his spells?

"Hmm."

I wondered if Cassius's Arcana Market sold some kind of compass or artifact that predicted Gates before they breached reality. I made a mental note to ask him during my next visit. For now, with no available targets and no other options, there was only one sensible course of action.

"I've got a morning shift at the convenience store tomorrow anyway. Might as well hit the sack..."

The cooldown on 'To the Tower' reset sharply at midnight. A good night's sleep, and I'd be ready to climb again.

The following morning, the moment my eyes snapped open, I immediately dashed into the 4th floor.

The outcome was an exact replica.

Was it the blossoming Primordial Force? Or the residual enlightenment regarding power regulation? Whichever it was, something fundamental had shifted inside me. The physical diameter of my Energy Bolt had shrunk dramatically down to a manageable sphere, yet the kinetic payload and heat density had multiplied exponentially.

"Not bad at all."

At this rate, I could probably hold my own in intermediate dungeons and standard raid gates—assuming I could ever find an uncleared one left standing.

Beep, bee-bee-beep!

"Ah, crap."

Time to punch in. A man had to fulfill his social responsibilities. First I'd wrap up my shift, and then I could sit down to properly sort through my new gains.

"I can help who's next over here."

Beep, beep!

"That'll be five thousand seven hundred won."

Kim Haun, twenty-three years old. Convenience store clerk. Up until last week, my daily grind had been thoroughly mundane.

Scan barcodes, front the shelves, mop up sticky spills. In the quiet lulls between customers, I would prop my phone behind the register and stream videos.

Gak-Al-Nam's channel was the hottest Awakener broadcast on the Korean internet. Watching his high-profile interviews and wallowing in pure, unadulterated envy had been my sole entertainment in life. But now?

I was an Awakener now, too. And a level five, at that.

I leaned over the counter, resting my chin in my palm. Even with my recent breakthroughs, hearing numbers like that still sparked a pang of raw jealousy. Four point two billion won? How many magic stones was that?

"At fifty thousand won per low-grade stone..."

I tapped a quick calculation into the register's keypad. Eighty-four thousand stones?!

That was an obscene mountain of wealth. With that kind of capital, could I march into the Arcana Market and play the demanding, entitled VIP to that grumpy golem? God knew I'd absorbed enough customer abuse behind this counter to put on a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠masterclass in petty tyranny.

I froze mid-wipe, the cleaning rag pausing on the laminate counter.

Huh? EX rank?

The Minotaur? Wait a second. They're talking about me?! The internet is going crazy over this?!

The moment Gak-Al-Nam mentioned it, I whipped out my phone and pulled up the Awakener community boards. The search results hit me like an avalanche.

"So that world-record alert wasn't just ringing in my own ears..."

I rubbed the back of my neck. Straight A's and S's? Yeah, keep dreaming. My official awakening evaluation was a solid wall of embarrassing E's and F's. The only stat that had clawed its way up to a D-rank was my mana capacity, and that was purely thanks to guzzling a divine elixir back at the Arcana Market.

Still, their wild speculation was completely understandable. That Energy Bolt I dropped in the park? Looking back on it, the sheer scale had been utterly ridiculous. And the kicker was, it had only grown exponentially more lethal since then.

I winced slightly. Uh... Mr. Choi Minjun, sir? If you took one of my hits right now, you really wouldn't be standing here. It's stopped pretending to be an Energy Bolt altogether; it's a bona fide extinction event.

"Man, this is actually pretty entertaining."

I scrolled through the thread with a broad grin. This was the true Awakener life! Front-page articles, viral community boards, thousands of comments dissecting every move—and every single scrap of it was about me. It felt amazing.

"Wait, what's this one? Why are there so many upvotes on this post?"

Luo Qin?

I recognized that name instantly. China's reigning number one ranker—the self-proclaimed 'Heavenly Emperor' whose ego reached past the stratosphere. Years ago, when a severe catastrophic Gate broke in Korea and foreign strike teams were contracted for joint defense, he had sneered down at Korean reporters during a live press conference.

Reading those words again made my blood boil all over again. What an absolute, legendary piece of trash.

"Total psycho."

It was no wonder he was overwhelmingly voted the number one most despised foreign figure in all of South Korea. Naturally, I held the exact same sentiment. But as I read through the frantic forum replies, a particular phrase caught my attention.

"What do they mean by 'rip that blessing right out of his hands'?"

I tapped the search bar and quickly pulled up the relevant wikis.

"Ah."

God bless internet databases. Everything was cataloged down to the finest detail.

My eyes widened as the pieces clicked together.

"So you're telling me... if I take first place on the 5th floor, I can strip that arrogant bastard of his blessing and claim it for myself?"

I put my phone back in my pocket and tapped the counter with a broad, mischievous grin.

"Oh... this is going to be fun."