Screw It, Let's Do This
"Screw it, let's do this."
I tossed my luggage onto the dusty bed, then firmly locked the door behind me with a sharp click.
"Phew..."
Only then did I finally remove the mask that had been suffocating me and toss it onto the desk.
"Playing the part of a Masked Clan member... isn't exactly a thrilling experience."
I stared at my face reflected in the mirror. Perhaps because of the character customization applied to me—unlike my real-world appearance—I looked quite handsome, even objectively speaking. But what was the point of a handsome face? Right outside that door, there were only monsters drooling at the prospect of catching my scent and ripping my throat out.
Still, if there's any consolation... it's that I'm not the only player in this godforsaken world.
But that didn't mean I could openly join forces or form a party with them. A crimson system warning was flashing in the corner of my vision, preventing me from doing so.
[ Rule 1 ] If the beast-kin of this world discover that you are a Human, you will be executed immediately.
[ Rule 2 ] Offline socializing and leaking the existence of the Gallery to others are strictly prohibited. (Immediate execution upon discovery)
"...What a bunch of sadistic bastards."
I let out a hollow laugh.
To sum it up: don't get caught by the beast-kin, don't even think about making pathetic little friends in real life, keep your mouth shut, and climb the tower alone. So even if those gallery users bragged and showed off their achievements online, in reality, they had to thoroughly deceive one another while rubbing shoulders and surviving among monsters.
Tring.
The system chimed again, displaying another message. I checked to see what kind of nonsense it was this time, and instantly felt that what was bound to happen had finally arrived.
[ Rule 3 ] You must climb the Magic Tower at least once a month. Failure to comply will result in being classified as an impurity of this world, followed by immediate execution.
Right... After all, the lore of this world dictates that you have to climb the tower and clear it to the very end...
The game's name was Estel Origin. The main stage of this game, which I used to play just to kill time, was that colossal Magic Tower, Estel Live.
For some unknown reason, a legend persisted that whoever climbed to the top of that tower would become the king of this world. Countless beast-kin had enrolled in this academy to challenge the summit, only to meet gruesome deaths. Even so, did they plunge into the tower like moths to a flame out of some blind sense of destiny? Of course, I, who had to climb the tower just to survive, was merely another one of those moths...
"It's ridiculously high..."
The distant Magic Tower was reflected in the window. No one had ever reached the very top, and it was said that only a single person had ever come close to its throat. Of course, that was just the lore in the game's story.
For now, I need to break through that terrifying tower.
I was dead meat if I just sat here breathing anyway. It was far more beneficial to climb the tower as quickly as possible and figure out a way to survive. I activated the Gallery in midair and posted a question.
Ah... Positions. I reflexively opened the system window to check my class.
In the world of Estel Origin, there were four main classes.
The Knight, a melee class utilizing swords, maces, and shields.
The Dragoon, a ranged class specializing in firearms, bows, and long-distance physical combat.
The Enchantress, a magic class utilizing spells and elemental attacks.
And the Aria, a support class that utilizes singing and music to buff allies.
Among them, I belonged to the Knight class—one I didn't even remember choosing.
But I'm already doing those ten thousand swings...
A thousand days of training, ten thousand days of refining.
I didn't want to go as far as doing that kind of crazy shit like some legendary samurai from another country. But if I had known that classes were determined by such simple formulas—holding a staff makes you an Enchantress, singing makes you an Aria—I would have never chosen to be a Knight.
I let out a short sigh and tapped on the keyboard again.
These bastards don't believe me?
It didn't matter if they recognized who I was from the photo anyway. The moment they tried to acknowledge me in real life, their heads would roll first for violating the rules. That was the perfect loophole and safety net guaranteed by the system. Smirking, I attached the screenshot without hesitation.
I thoroughly enjoyed the thrilling rush of the gallery users' heated reactions.
With their playful mockery as the final note, I swiped away the blue interface hovering in the air.
Infinite respawns unless the altar is destroyed... I'll have to smash it to pieces the moment I start.
The gallery users' advice was indeed invaluable information that would help me survive. I stood up and picked up the ordinary wooden sword resting on the desk. The moment I gripped the hilt, a burning fighting spirit began to flare up from deep within my chest.
Screw it, I'm going to survive.
Tomorrow. I'm going to completely tear apart the 1st floor of this horrific Magic Tower.