I Am a Veteran
I am a veteran.
There was an online game.
Its name was the Tower of Despair.
True to its name, it was a thoroughly nightmarish dark fantasy title in which players had to climb a tower of utterly absurd difficulty.
In the early days after launch, that very notoriety made it a massive hit.
And on and on. It shattered record after heavyweight record.
Why?
The biggest reason, of course, was that its murderous difficulty cemented it as the definitive physical skill game of its era. But if it had been merely hard, it would have been branded an unpleasant mess soon enough.
The Tower of Despair justified that diabolical difficulty with flawlessly executed design. Breathtakingly beautiful Gothic artwork. A mysterious world that only grew more intriguing the deeper you dug. Precision-tuned controls. All of it combined to create a hell worth challenging—and it earned rapturous praise from critics and players alike.
Except.
As already mentioned, it was simply too hard.
Famous streamers and pro gamers rushed to challenge it, but those who succeeded could be counted on one hand. Because of the murderous difficulty, no one dared claim they had seen the top of the tower.
Some people placed bets on the game. Others farmed viewers with no-hit challenge runs. Yet not a single person broke past the 10th floor—even more than a year after release.
Naturally, the popularity cooled just as hard as it had burned.
Famous streamers quit one by one. Even the world's top pro gamers threw up their hands. The extreme difficulty that had drawn the crowds became the poison that killed the hype. Interest faded as naturally as it had flared. Before long, only the true hardcore fans remained.
The so-called veterans. The stagnant water.
Hyun Si-woon was one of them.
Rotting water of the Tower of Despair.
His nickname: EndSeeker.
The one who chases the end!
Hyun Si-woon first picked up the game five years after launch and was immediately hooked. His start had been pure arrogance. At sixteen he was good at every game he touched—a so-called gaming genius. FPS, fighting games, anything. Within a month of picking one up he was already a ranker. Popular hardcore titles and physical skill games were child's play to him. If he had never met this game, he might well have gone pro.
And yet he stepped into the still-infamous Tower of Despair.
The result was a massacre. He didn't even reach the supposed world-record 10th floor; he was crushed on the 5th. First attempt or not, his pride took a beating.
"Is this even real?"
For the first time in his life he felt the emotion called difficulty. In FPS titles he had been a headshot machine. In fighting games he had pulled frame-perfect combos. None of it mattered here. Attack timings were razor-sharp, patterns kaleidoscopic, variables utterly unpredictable.
And the harder it got, the brighter his eyes shone.
"Ha… hahaha! This is fresh."
An ordinary person would have quit right there. Hyun Si-woon only got more excited.
"Now this is a game."
A wall that pure hand speed and reaction time alone could never climb. He felt pure exhilaration.
A month later, when he turned seventeen—
Another year later—
Word spread. Communities and the entire game industry lost their minds.
The name EndSeeker spread across the entire world, but Hyun Si-woon did not care. He had sunk so completely into the Tower of Despair that he had become the game itself. Streaming? Uploading videos? The thought never even crossed his mind. "Out of sight, out of mind" was putting it mildly. The only thing inside his head was the 21st floor.
Two more years passed.
Management agencies waved nine-figure contracts for streaming deals. Game companies watched him like hawks. Corporations lined up sponsorships. Broadcast networks begged him to just hand over the footage—they would pay.
His ruined school years? He did not care. He had finally reached a height where all of it could be repaid in full.
Even the developer sent an email.
Privilege?
What was that supposed to mean? At first he thought nothing of it. Truthfully he did not even need a privilege. The reason he was obsessed with this game was simply that it was hard. He had no desire for cheat keys.
But Hyun Si-woon never dreamed—when he steeled himself again and stepped through the door of the 31st floor—that his entire life was about to be torn out by the roots.
The Privilege has arrived.
Along with the message, he lost consciousness.
And the world changed.
The world had been overturned.
More precisely, the Tower of Despair had appeared in reality—solid, towering, undeniable. And not just one. They rose all across the globe.
At the same time, catastrophe visited Earth. The monsters that had only ever existed inside the tower stomped cities flat. Guns and blades meant nothing to those horrors. Civilization shattered. Electricity died. Sewage systems seized up. Food became impossible to find. Water turned more precious than gold.
Only then did people understand.
The Tower of Despair!
They had to climb it and gain power if they ever wanted freedom from those monsters!
Most fell into chaos, but some began adapting to the new reality. Climbers appeared. A few talented souls actually returned alive from the 1st floor and started using their new abilities to kill monsters. Floor count equaled power.
After watching the situation for roughly half a year, Hyun Si-woon thought:
It's exactly the same.
Monsters prowling the ruined streets. The Tower of Despair stabbing the sky. Everything matched the game that had consumed his entire school life.
What the hell was going on? Why was this happening? Had the developer's "Privilege" meant something like this?
I have to climb.
There was no other way to survive. People who came back from the tower were already forming communities; the cowardly were not even given a chance.
If I want to protect myself, the only option is to grow stronger.
Refuse the challenge and only death waited. Modern humans had no weapons that could handle those monsters.
Hyun Si-woon headed straight for the tower that had erupted in the middle of Jamsil. He had no family left to protect anyway. His parents had died early; he had no siblings. An uncle by marriage had become temporary guardian, but there had never been any real emotional connection. Complete neglect. Complicated issues of government support money and inheritance had probably been tangled up in it all, but young Hyun Si-woon had never known the details. That was also why he had been able to drown himself in games throughout his school years without a single person interfering.
Anyway.
The 1st floor was the Hall of Weapon Choice. After waiting his turn he opened the door and selected a sword. Other weapons could clear the floor, but it had been his favorite during his gaming days.
Hyun Si-woon was EndSeeker. Every strategy, every hidden opportunity up through the 30th floor was burned into his mind. Even the title "veteran" felt insufficient. He was water that had stagnated so long it had simply rotted.
For someone like him the 1st floor should have been easier than breathing.
The Rotten Gladiator.
The mob you had to kill on the 1st floor. Its movement patterns, its attack methods—everything was engraved in his head with perfect clarity.
Yes. It should have been.
And yet—
Shunk!
"Ghk—! Gahk!"
His mind understood. His body refused to follow. The gap between game and reality was far larger than he had imagined.
"Crazy."
Hyun Si-woon had spent the vast majority of his life in front of a computer. Being good at fighting games did not mean he had ever learned actual martial arts. While other people did push-ups, he had clicked a mouse and hammered a keyboard. His body was a wreck—a stick-thin frame that looked half-dead already.
Could a body like that pick up a sword and kill a monster? Even if the Rotten Gladiator was low combat power, simple patterns, fixed dodge timings—a tutorial-level weakling—it was still more than a normal person could handle.
My body feels so heavy.
The sword was heavy. He could not generate speed. Forget dodging; he could not even land a proper attack. At the exact timing he would have parried perfectly inside the game—
Shunk!
He failed.
The cold metal sensation of a blade punching clean through his abdomen filled him with despair. This was not a game. This was unmistakably reality.
"Gyaaaaaah!"
A scream tore from Hyun Si-woon's throat. The pain was not fake either—it was real. His breath locked. It felt like his internal organs were being forcibly wrung out.
Fuck……!
Even getting that single word out was almost impossible. Strength left his body. His vision blurred. Hands and feet went ice-cold. Consciousness sank deeper and deeper into darkness.
Death.
Hyun Si-woon was forced to accept that terrible thing.
Flash!
His eyes snapped open.
"Ghhhaaaak!"
A ragged gasp burst out. His entire body convulsed. Instinctively Hyun Si-woon clutched his abdomen.
My stomach…?
No hole. No wound. He was breathing normally again. His heart hammered like mad and his body was soaked in sweat, but his condition was clearly fine.
Just as he wondered what the hell had happened—
Privilege Ability, Regression, has activated.
This is your first regression.
A message floated before his eyes.
What? Privilege Ability? First regression?
He blinked hard, but the message refused to disappear. At the same time—
You have entered the 1st Floor of the Tower of Despair.
Please select a weapon.
Right in front of him stood the weapon rack he had seen only minutes earlier. Sword, blunt weapon, spear, staff, bow, shield.
The 1st Floor of the Tower of Despair. The Hall of Weapon Choice.
"Ha……"
Hyun Si-woon's mouth fell open.
"Hahaha……"
It was absurd. So this was the Privilege the developer had given him?
One line from the message he had read back then floated up in his mind.
— Please continue climbing the tower from now on.
"Keep…… climbing the tower."
A chill raced down his spine. Goosebumps erupted across his entire body. The shock that slammed into his brain was worse than when the Tower of Despair had first appeared in the world.
That gladiator who had driven a cold blade through his abdomen…… that bastard he was now half-forced to keep fighting forever?
Being alive again was not something he could simply celebrate.
"……Fuck."
The curse slipped out. It was ridiculous. Infuriating.
"So you're telling me to keep challenging this?"
Not even a game—in actual reality?
He drew a deep breath.