The Ticket to the Tower of Chaos

The Tower of Chaos was one of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠special gates. Minimum entry requirement: B-class. You had to burn an entry ticket just to get inside. And if you died in the tower, you were simply ejected to the outside—you didn't actually die.

"Ho. Quite a peculiar place, is it not?"

"That's not all."

The Tower of Chaos tested every hunter who entered. Trials arranged in successive stages. Clear a stage, and a reward was tallied—paid out in a lump sum the moment you chose to stop climbing.

"How well you understand your own ability is what matters most there."

Sophia's added explanation said it all. Get greedy, force a climb beyond your limit, and you walked away with nothing. Knowing where to stop was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠everything.

"Hah!"

"Something this precious—!"

The GGG hunters assigned as escorts gasped aloud. Even President Baek couldn't hold back a sound of pure admiration.

"Why is everyone so shocked?"

Ingrid's question drew an answer from President Baek, his voice tight with barely restrained excitement.

"The average market price for a single ticket is about ten billion won."

"Ah."

"And even if you have the money, they're nearly impossible to find."

Tower of Chaos entry tickets only dropped at an extremely low rate when a gate was cleared at SSS-class rank. A rare item money alone couldn't buy. The hand holding the ticket trembled.

"It's a gift."

"You've given me something far too valuable."

"Consider it a token of trust toward my partner."

Damn. My whole body was shaking. Hearing about thirty million dollars had been one thing—receiving an item of this magnitude in the flesh set my heart hammering.

I was still turning the Tower of Chaos entry ticket over in my fingers, nerves humming, when—

"E-Executive Director! How can you give something so precious to some Easterner—!"

One of the hunters standing behind Sophia shouted, his face flushed scarlet.

Oof. That guy. Quite the nose on him, huh?

"James."

"Yes, Executive Director."

"Did anyone ask you to speak?"

"I apologize for raising an objection to your decision."

Wow. Even Happy, the dog back home, could manage a more apologetic face than that. An American-bred long-nose delivering an apology with not so much as a single gram of actual remorse on his face.

"The Tower of Chaos entry ticket is a precious guild asset."

"Indeed it is."

"Surely it isn't something to hand out so freely to a mere C-class hunter."

An A-class hunter on escort duty, openly challenging an S-class hunter who was also a senior guild executive. American free-spiritedness was something I simply couldn't keep up with.

But still.

"James, was it?"

If I hadn't seen the Tower of Chaos entry ticket, maybe. But lecturing me about what I could or couldn't have—with the actual item sitting right there in front of me—was another matter entirely.

"Yes. I serve as the chief of Executive Director Sophia's escort detail."

"I don't particularly care what your job is."

I gave the ticket on the table a little waggle. The A-class hunter couldn't tear his eyes off it. Did he want it that badly?

"A moment ago you were talking about ability."

"The minimum entry requirement for the Tower of Chaos is B-class."

So in other words: a C-class scrub who hasn't even achieved enlightenment should put the ticket down and get lost. Nicely phrased, I'll give him that.

"You're saying my ability is insufficient?"

"That wasn't my intention, but you're free to take it however you like."

"Then put it to the test."

"Excuse me?"

"If I defeat an A-class hunter, that should be more than enough to prove I'm qualified for the ticket, don't you think?"

I pointed at him with my index finger. His face twisted.

"What do you think, Executive Director?"

"You've gone and given Mr. Park a reason to break a sweat."

Sophia let out a short sigh. Don't worry about it. All of this was well within the expectations of Dorae—ah, of President Baek.

Before the meeting, President Baek had told me there was a strong chance I'd receive a gift of considerable value.

—Accept it without hesitation. But if there's pushback, a little demonstration of force might not be a bad idea.

Judging by how shocked he looked at the Tower of Chaos entry ticket, even he hadn't expected a gift this valuable. Still, the situation he'd warned me about had arrived.

Good. Time to let the kids show what they can do.

Splash!

I stepped onto the sand of a beach where waves were rolling in.

A golden barrier unfurled in every direction. Sophia glanced at me, looking faintly sheepish.

"This is my fault. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Since we're partners now, think of it as a demonstration of what I can do."

A barrier sealing all four sides. It would keep any shockwaves from spilling outside. The interior was about the size of an athletic field—so hit-and-run tactics that relied on mobility weren't going to work here.

The guy named James, or whatever, was loosening up across from me.

"Disciplining this shameless knave falls to me!"

"Please, command me to tear that insolent wretch limb from limb."

Enthusiasm was great and all, but let me ask you both something straight.

"One-on-one against an A-class hunter. Can you win cleanly?"

Both thralls fell silent.

"Sir Isra. What are your odds?"

"In a solo duel… roughly seventy percent, I should think."

"And if Ingrid faces him?"

"Perhaps fifty percent, more or less."

"Tch."

Ingrid didn't argue—just clicked her tongue. When it came to reading both sides' capabilities and estimating the odds of victory, no one could match Sir Isra.

"And if the two of you fight together?"

"A perfect victory, without a single variable!"

"Then I'll leave it to both of you."

That was the plan, locked in. No other subordinates would be summoned. Sir Isra had spoken with conviction—I had to trust that.

"My Lord!"

"Heehee. I'll repay Master's faith in full."

Both thralls beamed, faces radiant with fighting spirit. Damn. Even with murder in their eyes, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they were dazzling—almost painfully so. You could have told me they were celebrities or models and I would have believed it.

"Hmph. So my opponents are a pair of lovely ladies?"

"Silence, fool who dared insult my Lord."

"Be grateful I haven't already torn that mouth of yours apart."

Yikes. Terrifying. They were my thralls, and even I found them bloodcurdling. The American long-nose's expression twisted slightly.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're ladies."

Shiiing—

The blade of a magic sword turned toward James.

"Is that mouth of yours your only weapon?"

"Khh—! I trust you won't complain even if I kill every last one of your summons."

"Go ahead and try. I'll be standing right here, arms folded, watching the show."

I stepped back with my arms crossed. This guy. He had no idea. The real weakness of both thralls was me.

My eyes happened to meet Sophia's.

"Shall we begin?"

"By all means."

"Yes, Executive Director."

Crack!

The moment Sophia's clap rang out, the American long-nose's arms multiplied from two to four. It wasn't an illusion.

Two blue arms of pure mana erupted from his back. Shiiing! The American long-nose, now gripping four swords, flashed a grin.

"I'll carve you into a nice little star shape."

Speed matching—or exceeding—Yeondu's, who specialized in swift movement. Focusing mana into the soles of his feet and releasing it, the long-nose covered dozens of meters in the space of a single exhaled breath.

Even a rotting fish could still be a delicacy, as they say. A-class really was different. But flip that around, and it also meant his speed was still something I could perceive.

Clang!

Sir Isra's sword—already drawn—caught the long-nose's assault. The collision drove her back roughly five meters.

"You reacted to the attack. Impressive. But the gap in power is obvious."

"Do you truly believe so?"

Thud—

One of the mana-forged arms was severed. The sword it had been holding clattered to the ground. The long-nose's face went deathly pale the instant he realized he'd been struck a half-beat too late.

She hadn't tried to match the force of four sword strikes head-on. She'd deflected them with a single blade—and in the instant before the residual force shoved her back, she'd already counterattacked.

"You should have cut the real arm."

"Had I done so, that scoundrel would have noticed."

Sir Isra reset her stance and answered in a perfectly calm voice. She had clearly been overpowered in raw strength. And yet the one who took damage was the long-nose.

"Arms created by my ability can be regenerated as many times as I like."

The severed mana arm surged back into place and casually reclaimed the fallen sword.

"Hahaha! Do you think this is the first time I've faced such an ability?"

"Resorting to petty tricks to overcome an unfair gap in power—and still putting on airs."

"In a one-on-one duel, you might have a point. However—I have a mage at my back."

Exactly. This wasn't a one-on-one fight. Sir Isra's unnecessary stream of chatter had been laying the groundwork for the next move.

Concentrated lightning shot forward in a single point. If you waited to see it with your eyes before reacting, you were already too late. The bolt flew at near-light speed and touched the long-nose's body—

CRACKLE!

The long-nose had honed the Weapon Master ability to a razor's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠edge. His weapons themselves reacted—releasing Aura against an attack he hadn't even consciously registered. A phenomenon born from the fusion of ability and instinct. Ingrid's carefully prepared surprise assault was casually blocked.

"Lightning? No. That wasn't ordinary magic."

The long-nose's eyes trembled. Speed. Power. Nothing about it had been ordinary—of course he was shocked. Magic was like a formula. Cast along fixed patterns, it came with inherent limits on how it manifested and how much force it carried. The lightning Ingrid had condensed followed no formula that existed in the hunter industry. Dealing with it would always be difficult.

"I'd love to chat with you two ladies a little longer, but I'm afraid that's no longer an option."

Murderous intent flickered in the long-nose's eyes.

"From this point on, I'll face you in earnest."

Both thralls' cheeks twitched.

"Hah! You've been serious from the start—and still you posture."

"If you start making excuses about not going all-out after you lose, I won't let it slide. Come at us properly."

American Long-Nose, sir. Looks like you picked the wrong people to mess with. Well—if he died like this, you could practically call it natural causes. Rest in peace, dearly depar—yeah, right.

"Crush him completely."

I gave both thralls a little boost to their work ethic.