Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: If It Doesn't Exist, Just Make It
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The old man's name seemed to be William.
After arriving at the village and warming up,
I sniffed, wiping my runny nose (from the cold, not crying), and bowed my head once more.
"Thank you again, sir."
"No need. Honestly, it's a relief for us that an outside climber like you showed up."
It wasn't like I'd come of my own accord—I'd been invited.
Still, I could guess the context.
"Is it because there aren't many people tackling this tower?"
"You know it well."
"As much as anyone else."
"Well, you're someone who came from the outside world to conquer that tower, so it makes sense."
William gazed out the window.
More precisely, beyond it.
To the tower standing tall in the snowy plains.
Cross that ridge, and it'd be tower floor 2...
No, we're still at floor 0 here.
So, correction.
It'd take me to the tower's 'floor 1'.
The world suddenly felt so vast.
I'm still basically in the tutorial, aren't I?
Anyway.
'Towers collapse if you don't conquer them in time.'
Who loses out if the tower falls?
The residents living inside it, obviously.
So the people in this tutorial village (tentative name) had no reason to bare their fangs at climbers like us.
That was knowledge spread by climbers who'd conquered other towers.
After returning to Earth.
I felt William's gaze and spoke up.
"Ahem. So this village has a sort of cooperative relationship with outside climbers?"
"Exactly. Even if we shunned climbers, someone has to climb the tower eventually. Fighting among ourselves is pointless."
He seemed pleased with my choice of words and smiled.
"You'll catch your breath and challenge the next floor soon enough, right?"
"Hm... depending on the situation?"
"Haha, what a joker you are."
William took it as a joke,
but who knows.
'After all that hardship, climb the tower again?'
Whoa.
I really don't want to.
Suddenly, old posts I'd seen came flooding back.
Self-employed folks have plenty of free time on their hands.
I'd spent a fair bit indulging in online communities myself.
In one of those community sessions—
While messing around in the galleries, I'd asked.
Mid-climb quitting.
Climbers waiting for someone else to solve the problem.
Some might scoff.
But I understood completely—a hundred times over.
Fight bears from floor 0 and then go fight more?
Only a psycho would want that.
Ah.
'Right, that polar bear was a boss monster.'
That was somewhat reassuring.
If that's true, floor 1 won't start with
[❗+❗+❗+Hunt Two Cave Bears+❗+❗+❗]
Me melting away like a glacier between polar bears.
Whoa, that's a real relief.
"Eek! Pull yourself together. Jeong-uk, have you checked your [Deficiency]?"
That was when William smacked his forehead and spoke.
Gestures like that are the same here too.
"[Deficiency]?"
"You don't have to tell others, but you should know your own. Some [Deficiencies] are dangerous to the bearer."
True.
Now that he mentioned it, it was something I obviously needed to check.
I fell into serious thought.
'Everything was weird in so many ways.'
I'd glossed over it amid the chaos,
but the life-or-death battle with Senior White Bear (Polar Bear).
The whole thing was off from start to finish.
I'm fine right now.
Meaning, it's not that my mana ran out and I can't use magic.
But Flame Arrow still wouldn't come out.
And that's not all.
'A butcher grabbing a knife to take down the final boss of a normal tower? Does that even make sense?'
Here it's a floor 0 hidden boss.
In other towers, it was the ultimate boss.
And I beat it at level 1?
Even targeting vitals, does that add up?
'Turns out I'm a swordsmanship genius, the butcher?'
That title wouldn't sell even in a high-quality webtoon.
The clue to this dissonance is my [Deficiency].
'My [Deficiency] is combat-related, and pretty high-level too.'
A climber's mirror.
The tower's curse and blessing.
Feeling a mix of worry and anticipation, I opened my status window.
"?"
Three flaws, huh.
I don't know what [Noble Body, Baseborn Role] means.
But even the first two rule out everything else.
'What the hell is my [Deficiency] situation?'
Summarizing my life in two lines.
Two home runs off three swings.
That's legendary batting average in baseball.
And that's my future?
I'm so thrilled I'm going insane.
"Something wrong?"
"No. The [Deficiency] names are just... confusing."
"...Names? Multiple? [Deficiencies]?"
Why does he keep looking at me like that?
Hesitating, I examined the first [Deficiency].
'How is a [Deficiency] named [Popular Post Addiction]?'
No! We don't know yet!
The name might be misleading—it could be a great [Deficiency] for all we know.
Yeah. That's probably it.
I'm a bona fide [Deficiency] collector!
Name aside, let's check the effects.
'Ddaradan dditdan ddaradan dditdan.'
Ting!
I fainted.
As I said earlier,
self-employed people have relatively free time management.
The problem is that free time equals slow business hours, but I was a total game-addict gallery-dweller in life.
[Popular Post Addiction].
Yeah, can't deny it honestly.
'Four hours of gaming a day is computer addiction? Then yeah, I'm gallery-addicted.'
I'd even held Gallery Master title once.
And popular posts are the alpha and omega of gallery life.
So no room to argue if called a popular post addict.
'But turning me into a pufferfish that dies without popular posts—what's the deal?'
Climb or not? Mixed signals.
Unless the tower's like 'Ew, cut this loser loose,' it doesn't make sense.
Feels like my wasted life is to blame.
But after a quick splash of cold water on my face,
I exhaled and steeled myself.
'Can't just sit here and die.'
If I had a week or month left,
or if this floor 0 macro-layer was livable,
I might've dragged it out in denial.
But one day!
One single day of lifespan left here!
And floor 0 macro-layer is just a snowfield.
Every direction—up, down, left, right—is nothing but snow.
Like, seriously just snow.
"Macro-layers with harsh environments usually start around floor 30, but this floor 0 is no joke."
Other climbers grumbling about the cold.
I heard the same complaints while gathering info from them.
I pieced it together and replied.
"Newbies can't settle here and only get a decent rest around the next macro-layer."
"How do you rest in this freezing wasteland? It's not Adheim or anything. Better to rush to the next one."
What's Adheim, you weeb?
If it's your hometown, I wouldn't know.
"Anyway..."
The isekai climber eyed me up and down.
What's up?
Jealous of my pretty apron?
Ever seen a butcher without one?
Magnolia Butcher Shop prioritizes hygiene.
"If you're looking for a party, wanna go together? You seem pretty strong."
"Got some business to handle first. Sorry."
I greeted and slipped away.
Not because I'm asocial—still scouting.
Eight years self-employed, even without KakaoTalk friends, I know how to decline.
Incompetent ones die off.
With the situation like this, I couldn't stay idle.
Time tight, environment brutal.
This killer rhyme sobered me up.
'Not completely hopeless.'
Do near-death experiences change people?
Not me—my brain spins after the crisis hits.
Maybe that's why this [Deficiency].
Creativity stems from experience.
Mine's mostly gallery time, but anyway.
A memorable post from those gallery days.
See that?
I found my lifeline from these pioneers.
What?
No way to hit popular posts in the tower?
'Then just make one.'
Of course, that example was a magazine.
But that's just because no internet.
No internet or upvote button in the tower either.
'But I've got magic.'
And people to upvote it.
I eyed the leftover magic tome kindling.
To survive, one way.
"I'll create... the Tower Climbing Gallery in this tower...!"
Leader!!
Watch over me!!
I'll become the anonymous clone troll-bait-hater-rekka!!
Harpy society has no class system.
Beastkin who make the World Tree their home from birth.
Cheerful, free-spirited birdbrains.
Queen Harpy?
Just a title for diplomacy.
Now they're tower residents who can't survive without interacting with other macro-layers.
They needed a figurehead for outsiders.
That was why.
"Your Majesty!"
"What if you all call me that too?"
The queen of macro-layer 7.
Queen Harpy.
Queen Admari saw herself as just the bird closest to the World Tree's inner leaves.
Admari fiddled with her tiara, grumbling.
"We're alone—call me Your Majesty again and I'll really resign. Wanna see me rip off this armband?"
"More importantly! Did you see it?"
More importantly, my ass.
If you're treating me like queen, at least act the part.
Her beauty, stunning even to humans, furrowed in a frown.
"See what? The dung beetle on your head?"
"Whoa, check this one out. Pretty cocky for a looker. Not that— the illusion magic right in front of you!"
"Should we work on explaining things more kindly?"
Did she fly into a branch?
At her glare, the adjutant spoke impatiently.
"No chit-chat—try manipulating your finger like this!"
"Huh? How? Like this?"
"Like touching glass with your finger! Why can't you get something so simple?!"
"Hey, watch it. Wanna die?"
"Sorry, ma'am."
After a kiosk-elderly bickering match, Idmari detected the magic.
'...A curse spell?'
Not harmful.
Just a minor illusion in view.
Even viewing it is up to the target—purely a 'magic bulletin board'.
No malice.
She could tell that much right away.
So she freely manipulated the board.
And Idmari saw.
"...Huh?"
Hard to believe content.
A curse spanning the entire tower.
"?"
Something.
Something was happening.