62. The Contradiction's True Heart
After taking down the field boss, my Super Sense skill leveled up once more. And I picked up a new active skill called Sensory Amplification.
The skill's effect was straightforward: it further sharpened my five senses. Activating Sensory Amplification made me hypersensitive to my surroundings, turning me into a living radar. It wasn't just heightened awareness—I could even use echolocation, pinpointing positions through sound reflections. Growth forged in the crucible of crisis always hit different. Satisfied, I headed back to the dark elf village.
Elenoir was waiting for me in the village, looking like she hadn't slept a wink.
"You reek of blood."
Come to think of it, dark elves had keen noses. I'd changed gear, but the blood scent must've lingered. Heading out in the dead of night with my equipment, coming back stinking of gore—what would anyone think? She could've grilled me on it, but Elenoir just gave me this enigmatic look.
"You're exactly my type... The more I see you, the more I want you. It's such a shame we're different races."
I figured she'd drop some profound wisdom, but nope. She'd mentioned her taste ran toward younger guys with a wild edge. Seemed like she dug me coming back bloodied up.
"But you pulled an all-nighter too, right? Don't you need sleep? And you haven't eaten, have you?"
"Not really."
"Don't humans eat pretty often? Now that I think about it, we've never shared a meal."
Fair point. Dark elves as a race had infrequent meal cycles anyway, and I was always filling up on white rolls. Sure, they'd try shoving snacks at me just for eye contact, but whatever. Fresh off the field boss kill, I'd scarfed a white roll—no need for more food, and sleep wasn't on the agenda either.
"Lost my appetite."
I shrugged it off. Not a lie. Hunger, sleep—those drives had faded long ago. Or more like, I'd hacked them away myself.
Back when I was stuck on Floor 1, I'd stuff my face with whatever tasted good every damn day, just because I had a mouth. If I'd dragged that one-note mentality up to Floor 7? Leeching off dark elves for three squares plus snacks, rolling around with Elenoir at night? Imagining that version of me made my stomach turn. I'd be worse than an animal. The duty and responsibility I'd hammered into my chest—that's what kept me human.
"I see. That's not great."
Elenoir sounded sympathetic, but I liked how my fading appetites felt.
**
I parted ways with Elenoir after a brief chat. Neither of us had time to kill. I headed straight to the scouting team's building, brushing off the curious dark elf scouts until I found Rizmel. No sooner had we linked up than we were marching back to the training grounds.
After some light warm-ups, we dove right back into yesterday's drills. Rizmel wanted to ease up on the difficulty and take it slow, but I shot that down, obviously.
Slash!
From the shadows, without relying on sight, my sword sliced through the dummy with ease.
"What the hell? You're on fire today. Got a full night's rest?"
I hadn't trained extra or anything, but the night-and-day difference from yesterday had Rizmel wide-eyed. Half right—she nailed the condition part, if not the rest.
And the training rolled on. Every time I blazed through the tests, Rizmel's expression soured more. At first, she was all smiles and praise, nagging me not to get cocky. But when I casually dropped five dummies at once and nailed yesterday's moves perfectly...
"……"
Sensing something off, she clamped her mouth shut, scowled, and glared at me. I ignored it, flaunting my growth without restraint. Eyes closed, I dismantled the dummies leisurely, proving I'd mastered sensory expansion.
"What the hell happened?"
Rizmel grabbed my shoulder with a fierce scowl. I played it cool.
"You taught me, remember? Anything off?"
She shook her head—no issues there.
"...What'd you do last night?"
Worry flooded her eyes again.
**
I hadn't committed any crimes or done anything shady, so I explained matter-of-factly.
"Just some live combat practice. No big deal."
But it came out sounding dodgy. Blame my shitty way with words.
"Live combat practice? You joking? Fighting blind is 'no big deal'?"
She got right in my face, eyes bulging as she pressed me.
"I told you over and over: don't push too hard, don't rush, you're doing great... So why?"
"Why what."
"Why act like you're dying to get yourself killed again? You didn't need to risk that much."
Couldn't deny it here. I answered flatly.
"Yeah."
"Then why?"
"Because I could."
I repeated what I'd said before. Same as with the crystal spider—just because I could.
That's when she'd started teaching me swordsmanship after hearing it.
"I figured you had some big goal, desperate to get strong ASAP."
"That's why you kept diving into risky real fights. That's why I agreed to teach you."
"If I made you strong enough with sword training, you'd stop taking those dumb risks."
"But watching you, I realized you're not in that much of a hurry. You seemed... chill."
She paused. I waited silently for what came next.
"You just... like getting stronger."
Her words after the silence nailed my core in a way.
She'd clocked how I got off on the thrill of growth.
**
Conquering Floor 1 was when I first tasted the rush of real effort-fueled growth. For someone drowning in cheap dopamine, it was massive, brand-new stimulation. I chased it hard back then. Hell, I still do. Every growth spurt hits me with that intense high, writhing pleasure.
So what? Enjoying the grind ain't a bad thing, right? Isn't that the biggest drive pushing me through this Tower of Trials—the ecstasy of progress?
"If you only knew risky ways to grow, and that's your only path, I'd get it."
Her voice trembled as she continued bit by bit. I just listened.
"But not anymore. Just follow what I teach, and it's enough. I thought you were satisfied."
She wasn't wrong. I was satisfied with our sessions. This time was just... different. Hard to pin down how.
"Was I too cautious? Holding you back?"
Tough question. Sure, part of me chafed at her worry. But it wasn't the whole reason. Looking back, even I couldn't say.
Maybe the impatience I'd started feeling was the biggest factor. Weird, though. Why so antsy yesterday? Pondering it, the answer hit quick and unexpected.
Lingering too long among the dark elves, I'd slide back into that pathetic loser I used to be.
That was it.
And why that fear? Simple, like she said.
I was satisfied with training alongside her. Too satisfied.
I can't afford satisfaction. I'd castrated my desires. Meals down to white rolls only, sleep whittled away bit by bit. Eyes stolen by dark elf curves, yet rejecting every temptation from Elenoir.
"Yeah, you're right."
Rizmel had called me out: acting like a guy itching to die. Spot on.
I'd said it was because I could, but my real motive hid deeper. Realizing it now...
"I wanted to die."
Seriously, Seo Jin-hyeok—the trash who exploited and killed someone under the flimsy excuse of filial piety, too shameless to even know shame. I wanted that bastard dead.
Seeing him content, happy—it twisted my guts, so I kept shoving him toward death.
But dying meant ditching my goal: escape the Tower, apologize to Mom. Even that, I couldn't pull off.
Wanting to live, to die—both my true heart. Both desires.
But the vow carved in my chest permits neither.
I will not stop, advancing endlessly. Until I shatter this tower's ceiling and break free.
Sorry for the confusion, Rizmel.