Unique Difficulty Floor 1 Clear

A crimson sky, and lightning that never stopped falling.

A tower so broken it looked ready to collapse at any second.

An environment nothing like Easy mode welcomed me.

"Return!"

You can freely exit the Tower at any time. Sure, there's a penalty that locks you out until next week—but so what? Nothing in this world is more precious than your life.

I fully expected the return to work. After all, I'd been able to leave when I re-entered Easy Floor 1.

But that was only for beginner difficulty.

Whether Unique Difficulty had been locked from the start or not, all I got was a red message. No return.

"Ha… I'm losing my mind."

The one silver lining was that the community still worked. I posted immediately.

The second I hit post, comments started flying at a terrifying pace. Only they weren't the consoling ones I'd expected—they were something else entirely.

"Fuck…"

I was the guy who barely managed to take down three Silver Wolves—the ones everyone called trash mobs. And now they wanted me to pioneer a Tower difficulty that looked vastly harder than Hard mode just by looking at it?

"This is basically telling me to go die…"

Alright. Calm down. Think coldly.

I wasn't the only one about to lose my mind right now. Everyone trapped in the Tower was in full panic, and nobody was managing a proper clear attempt. That much I could establish.

I checked the streams, but nowhere—not a single one—was there a Unique Difficulty Tower clear stream. Everyone was just showing community posts and analyzing the situation from the outside.

"…If I go live right now, this could blow up."

A real-time hot issue. While everyone else sat on their hands and spectated from outside, if I streamed this situation live…?

People might call me insane, but the only way out was to clear Floor 1 of this Tower. Whether I got torn in half or lost a limb and became disabled—scared and terrified as I was—I had to do it.

Still, with 74 Agility and 150 Mana, maybe I could make it work somehow.

I went live on the spot. Title: Unique Difficulty Floor 1 Clear.

The pull of my stream was enormous. Unlike last time, viewers poured in like a flood.

The second they joined, chat started spamming comments just as hard as the community post. There were so many I could barely keep up.

"Hello. I'm Eastern Gunslinger."

"Of course I have to clear it. If I don't clear it, I can't leave. And the mask is an item. Just picked it up this time."

"Don't freak out, everyone. I said I'm clearing it, didn't I? Why are you all rushing me so hard. You that eager to watch me die?"

Funeral money.

"Who said anything about funeral money."

I immediately opened the status window for Yahwa. Chat exploded.

"At a named mask shop. Alright, I'm really starting the clear now."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. The oppressive pressure felt like it was crushing my entire body, like I was about to soil myself any second.

"Hah… Commencing the clear."

Normally the community and system windows were blue, but for some reason, Unique Difficulty only displayed red system windows.

A red system window floating in midair. Everyone who saw it was stunned.

"…Insane."

The matchup was terrible. You couldn't shatter rock with a water gun, and busting through the hide of a creature with "Iron" in its name was close to impossible.

I immediately aimed for the golem's solar plexus. That was the most likely spot for the mana stone that served as its heart.

Bang—!

Recoil unlike anything I'd felt before. I'd only fired a handgun, but it kicked like a sniper rifle. The shot itself looked like a shooting star ascending to heaven—but for all that flashy impact, the result was pathetic.

There was only a slight scratch on the Iron Golem's chest. It was otherwise completely fine.

"Hah… This is exactly like the Silver Wolves all over again."

What good was first-class marksmanship if you were still a third-rate Hunter? A third-rate Hunter was all you were.

The good news: that golem was massive, and correspondingly slow as hell. And my Agility stat was in a completely different league from that thing.

I might still have a shot.

Bang—!

I immediately fired another round into the exact same spot as the first. Water couldn't split stone in a short time either—but given enough time, it could cut through stone, diamond, anything.

This hardness was nothing like the Silver Wolves. This time it only left a faint scratch. But it was the moment that proved damage was properly stacking, however tiny.

I kept firing. Obsessively. Precisely. The exact same spot, over and over.

The scratch that had been a mere scuff became a shallow gouge, and the shallow gouge would become a deeper wound. Whenever the golem got somewhat close, I pulled back and fired from range.

Bang—!

Repeat infinitely. With every cycle, the armor plating tightly wrapping the golem's solar plexus lost more of its shape.

"GRRRAAAAGH…!"

"Does it hurt, you bastard? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Does it? What pain is a hunk of scrap metal even feeling, huh? Pain!"

Bang—! Bang—! Bang—!

Hitting the wound of a golem now crawling across the floor in agony was easier than running from Eun Hayoon.

"Oh—oh…! I—I can see it!"

How many rounds had I poured into it? The golem's heart—a crimson mana stone—started to show. It was only slightly bigger than a needle hole, but seeing it at all was something.

Bang—!

"GRRRAAA…!"

"Hurry up and die so I can go home!"

And then—

"Huh…?"

Wait. Can none of you see this? Right here! The status window that just popped up where I'm pointing!

"Can none of you see this?"

I pointed at the status window sitting right in front of my face—the one announcing that my Avid had been strengthened.

Apparently this status window was only visible to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me. Well—thanks. There was zero benefit to people knowing about this sort of thing. Not unless it put my life in more danger, at least.

Right now the Iron Golem was still crawling around the floor in pain. It would take a while for that thing to collect itself, so I immediately checked my newly acquired skills.

No matter how good my shooting was, bullets fundamentally couldn't curve sideways—there was a hard limit. This skill erased that limit. Calling it a massive ceiling-raiser wouldn't be an overstatement.

Next, Reinforced Bullet.

"It—it dropped!"

The power-multiplier skill I needed most just dropped, chat!

"Want me to show you something fun? I think it's time I stopped holding back. Heh heh."

"Alright."

That tin can was still polishing the floor clean—god knows how badly it had hurt. "At this rate the floor's gonna start shining."

I checked my remaining mana on the status window: about 30 left. Normally, using my Avid cost 1 mana per shot. Even a basic Avid shot would hit for 10× power. Dump every last drop of mana into it, and I could deliver a ridiculous 1,500× multiplier.

A skill so broken nobody could stop me now. Not even an S-Rank Hunter.

A crooked smile on my face, I raised my Avid high toward the sky and fired.

Bang—!

The bullet loaded with my remaining 30 mana streaked toward the golem's mana stone like it had a tracking device strapped on, trailing a blue trail of light. One glance told you this was no ordinary round.

The golem must have been terrified of it too—it scrambled to push itself upright. Not a chance. A mere golem wasn't fast enough to dodge a bullet. The round punched straight into its chest.

"GRRRAAAAAAAGH…!"

With an earsplitting scream, the golem vanished without a trace—leaving only two oddly cute little legs behind.

The viewers were just as shocked. Ah—current viewer count on my stream: 108,722.

"Shall we check the rewards first?"

Right after, a normalized blue status window appeared.

"Hell yeah…! These rewards are sweet!"

The payout was incomparably better than beginner difficulty. Enough to make me wonder if this was going to cause inflation.

Donations kept exploding through the viewers' begging.

…

…

…

And among them, one donation stood out more than any other.