The Bug User

Moreover, the people summoned into the waiting room could only be distinguished as silhouettes of shadow.

This isn't the number you'd get from clearing a single zone. Far more zones are being cleared simultaneously.

Yet the strangeness remained.

Everyone should have entered a zone matching their own level. The number of challengers distributed across each zone varied, and even among those of the same level, external factors created differences. For every zone to clear at once like this was impossible.

"It seems we're all in a similar situation. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Would each of you mind stating which level zone you were in? I think we need to sort this out."

So Master put on an act. He needed to find out the reason first, after all.

One by one, the people around him began to speak.

"I was in a Level 7 zone!"

"I was Level 8."

"Level 5."

As expected, the level distribution was scattered. The highest was Level 12, including Master himself, but excluding him, Level 8 seemed to be the ceiling.

They're being cleared from the lower zones upward, in order. Is it simply a difference in difficulty?

The zones weren't jumbled together, so that was possible. Of course lower levels meant lower difficulty — that much was obvious. Being cleared in sequence was equally natural.

And yet.

"A blizzard suddenly hit, and then it cleared."

"Same for me!"

"Huge Demon Blood Species appeared and kidnapped the smaller ones."

"'That man'… that man commanded the Demon Blood Species and killed the zone boss."

Something was wrong. Every level of zone had been cleared in one of two ways: a blizzard, or an unidentified man leading Demon Blood Species.

But unless he was using some kind of clone technique, he should only have been able to operate in zones matching his own level range.

That was when it happened.

A quiz, all of a sudden. But it wasn't strange. Dungeons and towers varied completely depending on their master. This was simply the temperament of the Rift Tower's owner.

There is a bug user.

And Master was certain. Judging by the earlier conversation, someone was ignoring the level zones entirely. It was bug-level play, pure and simple.

Moments later, O and X floated into the air. Master pretended to deliberate, then headed for O.

The second quiz followed. Master scowled.

This is a quiz?

Because this was no longer a quiz at all.

Once I'd decided to farm points, I tore through to the Level 10 zone at breakneck speed. Pushing nonstop all the way to Level 10 brought our combined party score to 850.

And the higher the total score climbed, the weaker Solbaren's combat power became. Roughly one percent for every ten points. In theory, reaching 1,500 points would drop Solbaren's combat power to zero.

If I play this right, zero percent might actually be possible.

The points I'd earned alone from clearing every Level 9 zone already stood at 580. Reach Level 10 and beyond, and gathering close to a thousand points wasn't out of the question.

By raw stats alone, my current level is already approaching 13.

Thanks to the Unique-grade sword Winter boosting every stat by 10, a purely numerical assessment put me near Level 13 — an absurd correction. Of course, compared to those who had raised their levels properly to a similar tier, or those who had Transcended, there were still gaps. Even so, I didn't think I'd go down easily. I had techniques that wouldn't fall short of the Transcendence they'd gained.

One Who Blooms Darkness needed no further mention.

The second swarm of the Demon Blood Species is complete.

A number large enough to call a legion had crossed the warp with me. Over a thousand Demon Blood Species. Even a necromancer would struggle to command a force of that size. Short of the Death King himself, who could possibly control undead by the thousand?

"Wh-what is that?"

"Demon Blood Species? These look a little different…"

"Run!"

The Level 10 zone, as expected, had a fair number of people. The moment the warp deposited us, challengers who spotted the Demon Blood Species horde scattered in pure panic — all except two.

Whik! Whir-whir-whir-whik!

A man in crimson armor and helm was swinging a spear like a madman. He didn't so much as glance at the Demon Blood Species legion.

That's… Valté.

I recognized him instantly. The only man who'd wear a Berserker Set and thrash a spear like that was Valté — the one I'd brought out of the Mountain of the Cultivator.

But Valté was locked in combat with someone.

"As expected of a 'Bug User's' party member. To reach this level at Level 10…"

A man casually dodged the spear thrusts, murmuring in admiration. I'd never seen him before, but the problem was his level.

Why was a Level 12 Transcendent in a Level 10 zone?

Skin hard as stone. He was of the Earthenfolk, natives of the southern continent. With steel-hard hides, every Earthenfolk warrior fought bare-handed, cutting down enemies with swift, agile movements.

He glanced at me while still dodging Valté's spear.

"Hm? Don't tell me — the 'Bug User'? How fortunate."

The Earthenfolk man smiled at his leisure. Even facing a legion of Demon Blood Species, he remained utterly unhurried. Perhaps he believed he could wipe them out alone.

"Spearman. I've lost interest in you. I'll end this in one blow."

The Earthenfolk warrior clenched his fist and drove a strike straight out. That was the beginning.

KRAANG! KRAANG! KRAAAANG!

He hammered out rapid successive blows, and the air itself burst and exploded. Valté's armor crumpled, and he staggered backward.

"Ohh. You withstood that?"

But Valté did not fall, even after taking the barrage. His armor restored itself in an instant. Then, at an unexpected moment—

Chajajajak!

Valté launched his counterattack. His spear technique grew fiercer by the second. With every successive sweep, the pressure became smoother and more overwhelming. And when the tenth strike landed—

Wild Dance.

An explosive flurry erupted as if he were being assailed by dozens, hundreds of spears. Every last one of those spears was real. The spearman's ultimate technique, a mere graze of which inflicted fatal wounds — Wild Dance!

"Nngh…! More troublesome than I expected!"

The Earthenfolk warrior scowled. Not deadly enough to kill him, but far more annoying than he'd anticipated.

KRAANG! KRAAAANG!

Even after the Wild Dance ended and he landed several more attacks, Valté still would not fall. Only then did the Earthenfolk warrior sense something wrong and cry out in alarm.

"You — don't tell me you've lost consciousness?"

…Exactly so.

Valté had been unconscious for some time already. Having trained so long in the Unconscious Domain on the Mountain of the Cultivator, Valté was far stronger without awareness than with it. That was why he meshed so perfectly with the Berserker Set. Until either he died or his opponent did, Valté would not stop.

If I leave this alone any longer, it's dangerous.

Even so, a two-level gap was significant — especially past Level 10, where the difference grew starker still.

Just as I was about to intervene myself—

"It's the Bug User!"

"The Bug User is over there!"

Voices rose from every direction. I frowned and turned my head to find a considerable number of people pouring in — challengers of every level, including several Level 12 powerhouses among them. And in their midst, one familiar face.

"That bastard stole every last one of our points! He's clearly Solbaren's spy, trying to stop us from climbing the Tower!"

Master. The one who'd barely escaped the Imperial Auction with his life. He'd transformed into a pig to dodge the Death God Religion's suspicion. And now, out of nowhere, he was standing in the Rift Tower's Level 10 zone, rallying people against me.

But more importantly… how was he even here?

The master of the Rift Tower.

That was the only suspect that made sense. When I'd used the Eternal Lord's Heart to strip away the conditions, he must have scowled. He wouldn't have liked watching someone refuse to walk the path he'd designed. So he'd funneled the people from cleared zones to wherever I was.

He's treating me as a bug.

At any rate, it was now clear how the Rift Tower's master regarded me. Unlike when I'd claimed Mysteries from the Tower of Mysteries, he had no understanding of my methods whatsoever. Instead, he was hostile — actively trying to force me out.

And their state isn't normal either.

An unidentifiable hostility burned in the eyes of everyone staring at me. They charged with fire in their gazes — a hatred that couldn't be explained by simply clearing zones and stealing points.

What to do?

In truth, the answer was already decided.

The man in the distance. The one standing amid the Demon Blood Species horde — that was the Bug User. An obstacle that had to be eliminated.

The Demon Blood Species themselves ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠aren't much. Our combat power is superior.

Master made a swift judgment. The Demon Blood Species in sight were numerous, nothing more. Their levels were seven or eight at best. Here, on the other hand, there were four Level 12 Transcendents. If everyone including himself stepped in, even a Bug User would struggle to keep his life.

There's something familiar about him…

The Bug User's face, visible from afar — that appearance felt somehow known. As if he'd met him in the not-so-distant past.

Then, suddenly, the Bug User's form began to change. At the same time, Master's face twisted with all the force he could muster.

That form…!

His body wouldn't move. Even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his thoughts had frozen. But then Master's reaction grew even more violent.

"You… YOU…!!"

He could only tremble in horror. Rage surged up unbidden. Of course it did.

A golden goat's face, faintly visible through the darkness. The color differed from the black mask of that day, but there was no mistaking it. That man was without a doubt a member of the Death God Religion — the one Master had seen at the Imperial Auction.

The damned Death God Religion thug who had turned him into a pig and humiliated him.

So they were climbing the Tower from the Empire as well!

A current of electricity ran down his spine. The Bug User — the identity of the first-place party — was the Empire's Death God Religion. That man was clearly climbing the Rift Tower as their representative.

I will never forget the humiliation of that day.

He'd been so excited for the Empire's Special Auction that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he'd hastily liquidated every ruin he could sell. He'd entered the Empire loaded with gold, and all he'd gotten in return was disgrace. They'd gathered the sinners — the 'suspected Players' — and put them through a trial.

Master had roughly identified the powder in the jar and been thrown back into a childhood trauma.

That day… I became a pig.

No — Master had become a beast that wasn't even human. Transformed into a pig, squealing and grunting, while the Empire's nobles burst into laughter. The Death God Religion was no different. Those mocking eyes.