Recruitment (1)
“Ahh!”
“Yah!”
In the center of Thebes, there was a special training ground for hunters.
Beongnam Gym
The owner of this rough, no-frills place was a D-class hunter named Park Bongnam.
A former personal trainer, he had realized his limits early on and chosen to help hunters instead of trying to conquer the Tower himself.
He bought land in central Thebes and opened a gym there.
“No, no! That’s not the right stance!”
“Grrrgh!”
Park Bongnam was correcting a C-class hunter’s posture.
Since the Tower’s appearance, level and rank had become absolute measures, but basic physical ability still mattered.
There had been examples like Valderion, who had risen to the pinnacle of all warriors despite a low rank.
So many hunters were willing to pay Park Bongnam, even though his rank was lower than theirs, and receive his coaching.
“Hup! Hup!”
And in the corner of the gym, there was one especially conspicuous figure.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Rhythmic, fierce impacts rang out.
Kim Jun looked in that direction.
In front of a special sandbag made of lunarium, a boy was silently throwing punches.
He looked barely fifteen or sixteen, still boyishly young.
And yet his movements were anything but childish.
I found him.
Kim Jun’s eyes flashed.
Before his regression, this was the only person to reach beyond the fiftieth floor with a special class, Martial Artist, rather than one of the five basic classes.
Of course, by then he had already been an adult, but now there was no doubt.
More importantly, he was one of the few hunters who had shared a deep connection with Kim Jun before his regression.
Kim Jun watched the boy for a moment.
Most of the other hunters were absorbed in flashy skill training.
They were spewing flames, creating ice, or flinging glowing sword energy through the air.
But this boy was different.
He was pounding the sandbag using nothing but his body and his fists.
And yet the force in those simple motions rivaled any skill.
Geniuses really are different from childhood.
Kim Jun walked toward the boy.
“Hey.”
“Y-You startled me!”
The boy turned at the sudden greeting, then his eyes went wide the moment he saw Kim Jun’s face.
“K-Kim Jun?!”
Choi Doheon nearly fell over from shock at the sight of Kim Jun.
Kim Jun.
There were almost no hunters who didn’t know that name. For Choi Doheon, it meant even more.
“You’re really Kim Jun, Hunter-nim, right?!”
“Nice to meet you.”
Kim Jun smiled at the astonished Choi Doheon. He couldn’t help thinking that he’d reacted the same way when he’d met famous hunters as a child.
“You’re my savior!”
With a sudden rush, Choi Doheon threw his arms around Kim Jun.
“Ah!”
He hugged Kim Jun, forgetting that he was drenched in sweat, then realized how rude that was and hurriedly pulled back.
“S-Sorry! I got too excited…”
“It’s fine.”
Kim Jun didn’t mind at all. Sweat was the mark of noble effort, after all.
He had always liked people who worked hard enough to break a sweat.
“But why am I your savior? Have we met before?”
“Not in person, but…”
Choi Doheon’s voice trembled.
“I was able to become a hunter because of you.”
Three years ago, during the Yongsan Red Gate disaster, the boy had lost both parents, who had been C-class hunters, and become an orphan overnight.
But thanks to the Hunter Merit Fund established by Kim Jun’s Han Guild, he had been able to continue his studies and receive hunter training.
“I want to become a hero too, just like Kim Jun Hunter-nim.”
Choi Doheon spoke with pleading eyes.
“You’re always the one fighting in the front, saving people… And I know you always take care of the families of the victims after every incident too!”
Kim Jun listened quietly. In truth, he had done things like that more than once.
He had only done what was natural, yet whenever he saw people thanking him like this, he found it a little embarrassing.
But right now, he was actually glad.
A child with extraordinary talent had admired him from a young age.
What better connection could there be?
In my previous life, I only met him after he was already an adult. This time, we met early.
Kim Jun looked at Choi Doheon and smiled.
“Doheon.”
“Yes, sir!”
Choi Doheon straightened instinctively.
“Would you like to try conquering the Tower with me?”
“R-Really?!”
Choi Doheon’s eyes went round.
“I-I’d be fine? An inexperienced kid like me? I’m only C-class and level 10…”
C-class hunter.
That rank couldn’t be changed.
But—
“This is the Tower. Not a gate.”
Kim Jun’s voice was firm.
This was the Tower of Trials.
Of course, even at the same level, differences in rank certainly existed. But it wasn’t something to despair over.
In the Tower, as long as you had effort, experience, and the right direction for growth, you could break past your limits.
And Kim Jun knew that method better than anyone.
“So don’t worry.”
“…”
What mattered most to Kim Jun wasn’t strength, but human feeling.
He knew Choi Doheon’s future, so he was more than qualified.
“You’re more than qualified.”
“I-I’ll work hard! I won’t be a burden!”
“Good.”
The crackle of burning flames echoed through the silent heaven.
“What the hell is this…”
Countless hunters were passing through the burning paradise with despair on their faces.
Black flames were erupting everywhere. The moment monsters spawned, they were instantly incinerated, the scene repeating endlessly.
“Is, is this heaven?”
“My God…”
There were no monsters left to hunt, no experience left to gain.
All they could do was carefully make their way forward while avoiding the strange black fire.
Snap.
Han Seojin, the leader of the Cheongryong Guild, clenched his fist tightly.
“What a goddamn…”
His face twisted.
He didn’t know who it was, but he hated the bastard who had single-handedly hunted every monster from the eleventh floor to the fifteenth.
It was an insult to his pride as the leader of Korea’s largest guild.
I was late by another step. Just who the hell is it?
Han Seojin gritted his teeth.
He had clearly thought he could get ahead this time, but that mysterious existence was always one step in front of him.
I won’t let them take anything else.
The first-clear reward. He absolutely could not let that go.
Just looking at the reward listed in the System notification made its value obvious.
This was a matter of the guild’s standing—no, of his own standing.
“Move faster! What are you all doing?”
“S-Sorry!”
Han Seojin barked at his guild members, and they, intimidated by their leader’s demeanor, hurried their steps.
“We’re heading straight to the sixteenth floor. This time, we won’t miss it.”
Fervent determination burned in Han Seojin’s eyes.
Then he saw a faint figure ahead.
“Huh? Someone’s up there.”
One of the guild members pointed.
It clearly looked human, but the status window identified it as a monster.
“A monster. Was there one that hadn’t died yet?”
Han Seojin stared at the creature with cold eyes.
“Grrr… power… kill…”
The unknown monster muttered something incomprehensible, but—
“Blade of Frozen Wind.”
They would simply kill it and move on.
Right now, Han Seojin’s mind was filled with nothing but the first-clear reward.
And at the end of the fifteenth floor, after passing through the massive boss room, there was a huge circular hole cut into the center of the floor.
Black flames surrounded it, and beyond them stood a grand door.
The entrance to the sixteenth floor.
“Good.”
Han Seojin let out a short laugh and walked toward the door.
“At last, the first-clear reward…”
The moment he placed his hand on the door, a System notification suddenly appeared.
Entry requirement for the sixteenth floor: party of ten required.
Current number of members: 31/10
Please adjust the number of participants.
“Ten people?”
“How do we split this up?”
The Cheongryong Guild’s formation immediately grew noisy.
There were thirty-one members gathered here in total: guild leader Han Seojin, two S-class vice guild leaders including Ryu Aran, twenty-eight A-class hunters, and a single B-class hunter.
“What are you all dawdling for? It’s simple.”
Han Seojin’s cold gaze fell on the last remaining member.
“Hey, B-class. You drop out. That makes it exactly right.”
“Y-Yes? I…”
He was a loyal man who took on all the ugly, thankless tasks in the guild.
Carrying supplies, scouting routes, even dangerous diversion missions.
Han Seojin didn’t hesitate for a second.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said drop out.”
He didn’t even raise his voice.
He was simply setting down one expendable card with calm indifference.
“Guild leader, there might still be another way…”
When Vice Guild Leader Ryu Aran stepped in,
Smack—!
A heavy sound rang out.
Han Seojin’s palm struck Ryu Aran’s cheek cleanly.
“My dear little sister.”
Han Seojin whispered into Ryu Aran’s ear.
“I never gave family the right to question my decisions, did I?”
“…”
“Answer me.”
“…I’m sorry.”
Ryu Aran’s cheek turned bright red. But she had stepped forward for a reason.
La-la-la-la—
The moment they entered heaven, a strange bar appeared at the edge of every hunter’s vision.
It was the Divinity Corruption Gauge, and the more the light filled it, the more their minds crumbled.
Every time the hymn played, the gauge rose a little further.
At first it felt soothing, almost peaceful, but once it passed halfway, their will began to disappear, and when it filled completely…
“I-I might d-die…”
“So what?”
The many statues standing throughout heaven.
Every one of them had once been human, but had been completely brainwashed and transformed.
Jo Minjae would eventually become one of those statues too.
What was even worse was this:
In heaven, Bifröst was sealed off.
Under normal circumstances, if they were in danger, they could return to the first floor immediately. But not here.
To escape, they would have to descend all the way to the Minotaur Labyrinth below the tenth floor.
Without a support member. Alone.
Through a road swallowed by monsters and flames, before the gauge filled completely.
Ryu Aran looked at Jo Minjae with regret.
He had faithfully carried supplies and always led from the front, clearing the path ahead.
And now they had to leave him behind.
It was no different from a death sentence.
“It’s impossible…”
The words slipped out of Jo Minjae’s mouth in a hopeless murmur.
Fear of death already filled his eyes.
La-la-la-la—
The Hymn of Brainwashing did not stop, and the gauge kept climbing little by little.
“Can we go already? Stop wasting time.”
Han Seojin did not once look back at Jo Minjae.
To him, there was only the sixteenth-floor clear reward.
Click.
The door shut with a heavy sound.
Jo Minjae was left alone.
La-la-la-la—
With the hymn echoing endlessly around him.
Heaven assimilation progress: 50/100
At 100, you will become a glorious guardian of heaven.
It won’t be long now until complete harmony with heaven!
“Aahhh…”
Another notch ticked up on the gauge in his mind.
28
---