The God of Controls' One-Coin Clear: Endless Express (1)

Yoon Taeyang cleared the tower at an astonishing pace.

On the 7th floor he swapped out most of his gear along with earning nine achievements. There had been plenty of times he’d been forced to change because the fallen angels were chasing him, and several pieces had also been damaged during fights with officer-class fallen angels.

Because he had replaced his armor wholesale, there wasn’t any massive boost in combat power. The equipment quality gap between the 5th, 6th, and 7th floors simply wasn’t that large. The appearance of the gear didn’t change much either, so by the time he cleared the 7th floor Taeyang was back in leather armor.

The one who actually gained the most on the 7th floor was Ran. She had tasted the full equipment set that Hyeonhye guided her through and was now completely hooked.

And something she had become certain of on the 7th floor: Taeyang and Hyeonhye’s choice had been correct. Ran’s combat support was genuinely meaningful. Her wind arts could efficiently hinder enemy movement, help Taeyang reach places he otherwise couldn’t, and handle long-range attacks. For Taeyang, who had always dealt with magical attacks using Aksharon’s shed skin and physical ranged attacks with his senses or body, Ran’s assistance was worth its weight in gold. Reading the flow of wind also gave him intermittent future sight and let him scout surrounding lifeforms and terrain—both extremely useful.

Even the viewers watching had to admit it. That said it all.

He also unlocked his sixth card slot.

On the 8th floor Taeyang only earned five achievements. The stage “Deal with the Devil” was one of the rare stages in the Dimensional Labyrinth that had almost no combat. Players started with five random trump cards. The goal was to exchange cards with other players until you were in the top 50% of the 100 players.

While violence wasn’t completely forbidden, getting caught attacking another player meant losing one card—a fatal penalty. Taeyang was practically a scarecrow on the 8th floor. No, more like a parrot. He just repeated whatever Hyeonhye told him to say and did exactly what she instructed. Eventually he even started asking her permission before eating. When it came to combat, Taeyang was confident in both psychological warfare and action, but he had no confidence in a genre ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that relied purely on brainpower. Hyeonhye didn’t even let him eat. One of their targets had been showing signs of making a deal with another player.

Hyeonhye, recognized as a ranker-level brain, lived up to her reputation. She spent the entire time until the final moments of the time limit gathering information, then created a “poker” hand with only three exchanges.

“You’ve got some Dantalion experience after all.”

With one extra card in hand, Taeyang even had the leisure to overpower a player with force, steal their card, and hand it to Ran. Of course, it was more about earning another achievement than helping Ran, but afterward Ran seemed to trust Taeyang a little more.

“Only five achievements. Disappointing.”

The 9th floor stage: “Dress Rehearsal.” Belial’s final floor was an assassination-and-escape mission targeting a commander-level NPC in a heavenly setting. Taeyang also replaced most of his gear on the 9th floor. The frequent, intense battles had left ordinary equipment in tatters. The sacred rays of high-ranking celestial beings were powerful. Even Aksharon’s shed skin, which he had obtained as makeshift magic defense armor, couldn’t withstand a direct hit. It was a battlefield where armor would burn or melt just from a graze. In fact, Aksharon’s shed skin had been partially scorched.

On the 9th floor ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠“Dress Rehearsal” stage he earned seven achievements.

He received an official S-rank from Belial as well. This brought Taeyang’s total achievements to 53—averaging six per floor—and his gold exceeded 250.

“Even according to the original plan, couldn’t we have gathered around 300 gold?”

Taeyang let out a playful laugh.

“I’m doing better than I thought, huh?”

Taeyang’s growth continued even on the floors overseen by the dark-skinned soldier Demon King, Kimereis. On the 10th floor stage “Ten-Person Duel” he earned a whopping ten achievements, and on the 11th floor “Bell the Cat” stage he earned six achievements along with a rare-grade card.

Blood Ghost’s Thought was a skill card that functioned as a “mental barrier,” despite the difficult-to-guess name. The mental barrier helped block mind-control, hallucinations, and other mental magic or curses. Or hypnosis. The side effect was occasionally hearing nonsense like “drink blood.”

Side effects like this had a surprisingly strong effect on ordinary users. Especially for users who were currently “trapped” in the game. In fact, it had become known that many users connected to Dantalion were suffering from mental illnesses or showing corresponding symptoms, causing a major stir in the outside world. Fortunately, Taeyang had Hyeonhye and countless viewers who could cross-check the nonsense and confirm it was nonsense.

As they climbed higher, they encountered players they had seen before more often. Considering that more than half the players usually died each stage, this was only natural. Thanks to that, Taeyang and Ran became quite famous. Ran’s appearance and abilities, combined with Taeyang’s overwhelming martial prowess. Some unknown players would recognize Taeyang or Ran first and act friendly or fawn over them, openly trying to get close. Of course, Taeyang coldly ignored players who lacked ability. This change also occurred outside the game. While Taeyang was steamrolling through four floors, his stream viewership kept growing. In the shelter between the 9th and 10th floors, users even started causing a ruckus trying to find Taeyang. Taeyang’s stream had now reached the 100,000-viewer range. It had become a broadcast that was a major topic not just in Korea but around the world. Some viewers joked that Taeyang was now the face of the Korean Wave, only to be forcibly removed by managers Hyeonhye had hired.

An article about the high possibility that Taeyang’s younger sister Byeolim was trapped in Dantalion even aired on Korea’s public broadcaster’s 9 o’clock news. Reporters had even shown up in front of Taeyang’s house, somehow having found out. Hyeonhye, a professional streamer who was as accustomed to staying indoors as breathing and lived on delivery food, never had to deal with reporters. What was actually more troublesome were the families and relatives of the victims trapped in Dantalion. Questions like “My friend was on the 6th floor, have you seen them?” to requests like “My son seems to be trapped in the 12th floor shelter, could you contact him once?” Hyeonhye carefully relayed these stories. Normally she would have worried about shaking Taeyang’s mental state and not told him, but with the chat active there was no way to hide it. Taeyang didn’t take any particular action even after hearing Hyeonhye’s words. He wasn’t the kind of moral person who would prioritize complete strangers’ requests over his own matters. If you want to know, log into the game risking your life yourself. Why are you ordering me around? Some criticized his cold attitude, but that was all. As long as they couldn’t forcibly disconnect him, they couldn’t force Taeyang’s actions.

“More than that, this stage is the real problem. Ha. Things were going so well until now.”

Hoo.

A puff of white breath escaped Taeyang’s mouth.

Clack, clack.

Taeyang and Ran were riding a train. The other players were the same.

“The wind is cold. Not just cold—freezing. Looks like we’re in some polar region or something.”

“I should’ve worn more layers.”

“Yeah. If I’d known, I would’ve.”

If they had known, they would have worn more clothes and prepared all sorts of things. Unfortunately, they had no choice but to endure it.

12th floor, the final stage overseen by the 66th seat Demon King Kimereis.

Hyeonhye recognized what this stage was the moment they entered. The viewers and Taeyang did as well. It was a stage famous as an all-in-one gift set. Players had to cooperate, but traitors appeared at every opportunity, and there were hordes of monsters that didn’t match the floor’s level. An extremely brutal stage where even the “ranker survival rate” was below 10%.

“Whew, we’re in for some trouble.”