Unprecedented Rookie (10)

Regressor Arin couldn't quite figure out what to say.

A throw from that distance…… how?

The gap between Idurang and Eunho was, as far as she could tell, roughly forty meters. Short, if you wanted to call it that, but no easy distance to hit something with a thrown object.

And Idurang kept moving his head the whole time. Hitting a moving target — one barely the size of an eye, no less — with perfect accuracy?

Anyone who had tried it would know. That was anything but easy.

There was no throwing curriculum in the Academy's training program.

Which meant that throw just now had been the first throwing technique of Eunho's entire life. And he'd pulled off that result on his very first attempt?

I should have realized it back when he handled those daggers like they were extensions of his own fingers. Eunho's talent is bottomless.

Whatever she expected of him, he showed her more. To her, Eunho was nothing short of a daily delight — the one thing that made waiting for each new day worthwhile.

Now I find myself wondering what he'll show me next. That's what anticipation feels like.

Regressor Arin gazed at Eunho with eyes full of expectation. He, in the meantime, had set aside the dagger that had slipped free of his hand and was picking up stones from the ground instead.

Time to wrap this up.

Throwing technique. Gathering the newly forged skill into the move, he drew back a fistful of stones.

Mana gathered. The flow of mana streaming from his heart — the principle of the killing blade.

Mana infused with nothing but the intent to kill brimmed with murderous aura, and the stones cradling it trembled, quivering as if on the verge of shattering.

He swung his drawn-back arm. The stones scattered like buckshot from a shotgun, flying off in every direction at once.

Converge.

Each of those pebbles had drunk deep of his mana. Which meant he could control them as he pleased.

Distance didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the connection between his mana and himself.

Having confirmed that bond was unshakable, Eunho moved his will. Converge.

Question marks flooded the chat window. It was that far beyond what their common sense could process.

They'd all seen climbers on stream perform similar feats with bows and arrows. But pebbles? Plain stones scooped off the ground? Even for this audience, this was a first.

The stones, which had streaked out in straight lines, suddenly bent their course like meteors caught in the pull of gravity.

The target: Idurang's remaining eyeball.

The stones launched at him slammed into the creature.

And then, something astonishing happened.

"…?"

Idurang sacrificed the dagger-embedded portion of his own skull to withstand the barrage.

Thanks to that, one of its heads lost its neck entirely — but the remaining eyeball was untouched. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tsk. A shame.

KRAKOOOM—!

The creature — no longer deserving of the name Idurang — let out a massive roar and slammed its paws into the ground.

Its bulk looked a good one and a half times larger than any cave wolf they'd faced so far. A creature of that mass charging forward was nothing short of a rhinoceros ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the rampage.

Eunho didn't retreat. Instead, he planted his right foot back and clenched his fist tight.

Right on cue, light seeped into his body — the holy power of the present-day Arin.

Agility enhanced.

Buffed, he slammed his foot into the earth in kind.

The third eye embedded in the beast's forehead flashed. A viridian energy swirled up and hurtled toward him like a fired laser.

Eunho's steps embraced the wind.

Wind Step.

The skill he had trained into his body trampled the empty air.

A powerful leap — and the jade-green miasma chasing hard after him.

His body flipped in midair and slammed back down into the atmosphere.

Having evaded the poison by a hair's breadth, Eunho touched down again and rolled his fist closed.

No need for feeling him out. Even the first strike should carry the intent to kill.

THOOM!

An uppercut from below shut Idurang's jaw — but the beast's eye still flashed, tracking him without pause.

Eunho's body ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bent backward like an acrobat's.

Hsss—

The miasma whipped past, grazing his body.

Apparently his resistance held even against acidic venom — the poison that grazed him did nothing but melt away his shirt.

The suddenly exposed torso was no longer fulfilling its duties as clothing. But repurposed, its uses were limitless.

Eunho ripped the shirt free in an instant and whipped it toward the beast.

PA-ANG—!

The fabric, contracting and releasing in a flash of motion, drove out the air with a violent crack and flew like a whip — straight for the creature's third eyeball.

Too loud.

He muted the incoming messages. Right now he needed to focus on other sounds.

SKREEEE—!

A shriek rang out. In his unbroken field of vision, he watched the creature's eyeball slam shut. No matter that monsters were unknown entities existing beyond human common sense — an attack to the eye apparently still hurt.

A smile crept across Eunho's lips. His right foot, already planted, came into view.

As if matching a stance he'd refined his whole ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠life, he felt the holy power settling over him naturally, felt his movements grow lighter — and his hand drifted to his waist.

Inventory.

The Apprentice Adventurer's Sword.

He drew out the blade whose edge had chipped away back when he first skinned a cave wolf.

One more use left in it.

He'd been saving that one last use for this very moment.

Eunho slammed into the ground. He could see the beast's third eyeball slowly trying to reopen.

Not a chance.

He trampled the air. Leaping like a high jumper, he twisted his body once more in midair.

Pouring even that rotational force into the blade, Eunho's sword shot out like lightning.

The blade, charged with mana and spiritual power, carved through Idurang's hide as easily as slicing tofu.

Shrrk—!

It was Idurang's last moment.

WHUMP.

The massive body crashed to the ground, and the cavern shook. Crack. Only then did his sword fracture, breaking apart into fragments that rained down.

"Now I can finally talk."

He pulled off the Silence Boots — no more need for stealth.

The surroundings were filled with nothing but silence.

The chat window that had been chanting his and Arin's names in a chorus of cheers. The present-day Arin, who had been layering buffs on him at just the right moments. Above all, the regressor, who hadn't taken her eyes off the flow of battle for even an instant.

All of them were simply staring at his back.

"What? What's with this atmosphere?"

"Uh… that is……."

-EunhooOOO!! You're seriously the BESTT!!

Regressor Arin screamed and launched herself at him.

But with the chat window watching, Eunho swallowed the urge to dodge and stood his ground.

Wait. Why do her hands keep wandering all over me?

Before he could say anything, Regressor Arin beamed and cupped his cheeks.

-Eunho. You were really, reeeeeally! the absolute best!

Huh? At what?

He didn't feel like he'd done anything particularly praiseworthy. His expression said as much, and Regressor Arin chuckled and answered.

-You didn't show anything flashy, no. But you showed us a whole lot, didn't you?

What nonsense is that?

-From the viewers' perspective, Eunho, what you showed wasn't much. It was an ordinary fight. The kind of battle most climbers could manage.

So why— he started to say.

If not for the smile she'd worn partway through.

-But Eunho, you're a rookie who entered the Tower less than two days ago. Even when everyone calls you the greatest rookie of all time, deep down they're all thinking that. That you're just a newcomer.

-And yet what did you actually show them? Something that shattered every one of those prejudices to pieces. I guarantee it. The ability to use whatever tools are around you, exactly when they're needed. The power to squeeze maximum efficiency out of an item you just acquired. None of that is something you'd credit to a rookie.

Arin added with a contented smile:

-Oh, and the regression — that was your doing, wasn't it?

In your future, I was dead, remember? How would I have regressed anything.

-Fair point. That is a bit of a stretch.

And with that bit of nonsense, Eunho turned his head. He was burning with curiosity about what the Floor 3 rewards would be.

He looked toward Idurang's corpse. Only then did the frozen chat window slowly begin to thaw, comments trickling in again.

The viewers' mood was no different from Eunho's own.

He'd heard that the qualities of a professional streamer lay in stirring up the audience's curiosity and then amplifying it — but apparently he lacked talent in that department, because here he was, practically squirming with impatience to receive his reward.

Just as Eunho grinned and was about to declare his strategy—

The Tower asked, without warning.

The Slaughter King.

One of the pillars of the modern Tower's summit — a Ranker among Rankers. And precisely because of that, Eunho knew him well.

One of the strongest among the five great Rankers.

A veteran general who had entered the Tower the very day it descended upon Earth. And now Eunho had been offered the very trial that legend had once received.

His answer was……

"I refuse."

He didn't even need to think about it.