Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: Champion
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Earth 666 Abyss.
The rumor that only 'incarnations' could enter spread like wildfire.
It was utterly incomprehensible behavior.
It deviated completely from the norm of typical 'creation abysses'.
What was a 'creation abyss' in the first place?
It was the ultimate means for creators to earn coins.
No creator would carelessly produce and release a 'creation abyss' unless coins were overflowing—in fact, even if they were flowing like rivers.
For the same reason, no creator would make one that couldn't generate coins.
Coins were that vital a resource to creators.
Without coins, they went bankrupt, and bankruptcy didn't just strip them of qualifications—it threatened their lordships over abysses.
Thus, 'creation abysses' were invariably designed to lure in as many 'participants' as possible and squeeze out maximum profits.
But...
This abyss, 'Earth 666', was different.
The creators in the community scoffed.
Earth. A newborn humanity that had awakened less than two full months ago, inherently feeble from birth.
No matter that they'd conquered the Tower of Arrogance or defeated Aheta—every human was fundamentally the weakest.
They were pathetically frail.
Less than bugs that died from a mere flick.
Many creators had scoured humanity for days with eyes ablaze, but not a single human worthy of such miracles could be found, even with eyes wide open.
The possibility they didn't know about or had missed one?
Impossible.
There was nothing they didn't know or were unaware of.
Therefore, the 'Earth 666' abyss was a botched creation.
Even if creators were betting maniacs, they were rivals to each other.
Not one had even the slightest intention of fattening another creator outright.
They certainly wouldn't indulge in such low-rent commission schemes.
However.
A tiny minority of 'creators' took note of the 'Earth 666' abyss.
If they hadn't flooded the 'community' with posts to drum up interest, it wouldn't have become such a hot topic.
Provoke frowns to draw attention, pique curiosity, then unveil a completely different kind of abyss.
This was a tactic unseen among established creators.
And... would really no one enter?
He could say with certainty: they would.
If only for the 'first-come, first-served event coins' mentioned in the posts.
Even if everyone else stayed away, some creators would dive in for those.
The catch? No mention of how many 'first-come' slots there were.
Pretty clever.
Perfect for luring coin-crazed or coin-poor creators.
Out of curiosity, one might toss a frail 'incarnation' in there.
And if a creator found amusement in it...
At some point, info about the 'Earth 666' abyss started circulating in the community.
The common thread? Amazement.
Incomprehension dominated the reactions.
Typical arena-style creation abysses made coins through the infamous 'commission racket'.
Few creators played along with such obvious schemes.
Plain arenas were too outdated and boring anyway.
And without room for their involvement, it was frustrating.
But the 'Earth 666' arena was different.
All participants were 'incarnations'.
No need for incarnations or creators to eye each other warily.
Creators could spectate through their incarnations' bodies—and even 'intervene'.
Pretty intriguing idea, right?
And no commissions?
The issue was all the creators crowding one spot.
The Colosseum was a cylindrical arena.
With tiered seating.
If your incarnation sat low, others above looked down naturally.
That's where trouble brewed.
During arena wait times, 'creators' wandered the venue through their incarnations too.
The feeling of another creator peering down from higher rows!
How many could stomach that?
They were all fundamentally 'lords' of abysses.
Beings meant to stand at the pinnacle.
The creators sneered.
But behind the scenes, they were sneaking their 'incarnations' in.
Just to try it once.
And those who tried it once couldn't help but get caught up in that 'competitive urge'.
The Colosseum was an even bigger hit than expected.
In just 3 days, 500 incarnations had gathered.
Not packed, but enough for them to clearly see and recognize each other.
'Spectator seats are selling like hotcakes.'
Spectator seat sales.
Higher tiers meant higher rows, plus various perks.
And so.
Profits from seats alone: 20 coins.
For day 3, phenomenal results.
But Park Chan-woo wasn't satisfied yet.
'I've introduced a new concept. If it succeeds, copycats will emerge.'
True innovators among creators were rare.
A good creation abyss? They'd copy it in a heartbeat.
Soon, other 'Colosseums' would pop up.
Those who watched and saw potential would quietly launch their own 'incarnation-only arenas'.
No 'patents' among creators, no guilt over copying.
They'd pass off others' work as their own—real dogs.
One way to fend off these beggars.
'Overwhelming number one. Make it so no one on this Earth can catch up—or even dream of it.'
Make it overwhelming.
Untouchable.
Easier said than done.
Not a simple scale-up fix.
Make the 'fun' here inimitable.
Exciting and captivating, yet never fully satisfying.
Like an itch you can't scratch, a sneeze that won't come—make it a place of desperate longing so they can't look away.
'I have countermeasures.'
He had ways.
This wasn't a venture started without them.
This arena had one unbeatable, uncopyable edge.
That was—
Nameless Man.
None other than Park Chan-woo.
Park Chan-woo had contracted with Adora too.
A superior 'incarnation contract', no less.
Counted as a lower contract too, granting entry here.
"Nameless Man..."
"That brutal guy's back."
"Who's his next opponent?"
The incarnations' minds sharpened at the message.
'Nameless Man' had been savagely terrifying over the past 3 days.
Not just winning every match—he utterly crushed opponents.
To incarnations, Nameless Man was the monster they least wanted to face.
Of course, 'Nameless Man' was a pseudonym.
Arena rules allowed masking faces or names.
A perk of buying spectator seats.
Whoooosh! Whoooosh!
A hulking man entered the arena, spinning his flail.
Wearing a white prison jumpsuit like some cosplay, head shaved bald.
"That guy's no saint either."
"Ugh... monster bastard."
Incarnations clicked their tongues.
Park Cheol-gong smashing heads with his flail—still shocking no matter how many times seen.
But his foe was the 10-win Nameless Man.
Outcome? Unpredictable.
And then.
All eyes turned to the topmost 'spectator seat'.
One man sat there.
Or rather, a 'shadow' shaped like a man.
That shadowy figure overlooked them all.
Royal-tier seat.
The highest grade, still unsold—claimed by him.
Drip.
He stood.
Out of sight, Park Chan-woo spoke leisurely.
"Go, Azos."