Chapter 9 – Whispers of Resolve
The oppressive darkness of the fracture receded slowly, leaving Jae-Hyun kneeling in the deafening quiet of his room. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, but his mind remained restless, caught on the faint echo of Kaelzar’s cryptic words. They lingered, heavy and inescapable, like a shadow that refused to dissolve. He leaned back against the cold wall, his body aching from the toll of battle, yet his thoughts roamed far from the pain.
A notification flickered across his vision, its golden glow more vivid than usual, as though it were mocking the burden of its message. Jae-Hyun exhaled sharply, his breath uneven as he prepared himself for whatever the system had to reveal.
System Notification:
Abyssal Bond – Mythical Skill
Description: Grants the ability to form a reciprocal growth bond with a selected person or creature. The bonded entity gains access to system mechanics, allowing them to level up and grow stronger. Requires mutual consent.
Warning: The death of a bonded individual will result in severe penalties, including stat reductions and potential instabilities.
Jae-Hyun read the description once, then again, each word sinking deeper into his mind like the sharp edge of a blade. This skill was no mere advantage; it was a profound responsibility wrapped in risk. The potential for strength was there, undeniable, but it came tethered to a weight that could crush him if mishandled. As always, the system presented its offerings with a cold, detached clarity, offering no comfort, no guidance—just the facts.
“Reciprocal growth,” he murmured. His thoughts flicked to Ahri, whose strength and loyalty had been proven time and again. Could he risk her life for this?”
And then there was Kaelzar—an entity whose immense power stemmed from an era long past. A being so ancient and enigmatic that the idea of forging a bond with him was as daunting as it was intriguing. What would a connection with Kaelzar even entail?
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. No, this isn’t the time. I don’t have the luxury to experiment with something so dangerous, not yet.
With a sharp blink, Jae-Hyun dismissed the notification. He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the dull ache in his muscles. Pain was grounding, a constant reminder that he was alive. There were more immediate concerns to deal with—things that couldn’t wait. The Abyssal Bond would have to remain an unanswered question for now.
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A New Look
Steam swirled and danced in the small bathroom, clinging to every surface as Jae-Hyun turned off the shower. Droplets of water traced their way down his skin as he stepped out and faced the foggy mirror. He wiped the glass clean, revealing a reflection that made him pause.
The person staring back at him felt like a stranger. His frame, once lean and inconspicuous, now bore the unmistakable marks of transformation. Toned muscles defined his physique, his shoulders broader, his posture more naturally commanding. Even his height seemed to have gained an imposing edge.
But what struck him most were his eyes. They had shifted from a mundane shade to a piercing, otherworldly blue that seemed to hold a depth far beyond their appearance. The intensity in his gaze reflected not only his power but also the weight of his struggles. He raked a hand through his unruly hair, now longer and neglected, and for a moment, simply stared at the stranger in the mirror.
“I don’t even recognize myself,” he muttered, his voice low, tinged with an odd mix of wonder and apprehension.
Determined to make sense of his reflection and embrace the change, Jae-Hyun decided it was time for a fresh start. He stepped out into the city, weaving through its vibrant streets until he found a modest barbershop tucked away from the bustling main roads.
The barber, an older man with keen eyes, regarded Jae-Hyun curiously when he requested a modern yet practical style. The scissors moved with practiced precision, and as locks of hair fell, Jae-Hyun felt a subtle but profound sense of renewal—like shedding the remnants of his old self.
When the barber handed him a mirror, Jae-Hyun froze for a moment. The cut was clean, sharp, and perfectly framed his face, emphasizing the strength in his features. Combined with his defined physique, the transformation was startling. He looked not only different but commanding, as though the very air around him had shifted.
He left the shop and stepped into the late afternoon sun, his hood hanging loose for the first time in months. The warmth against his skin felt strange but liberating. As he walked, he caught his reflection in a shop window. The man staring back exuded confidence, strength, and a quiet authority. Yet, beneath it all, he felt a strange unease. This wasn’t just about appearance—this transformation felt like a barrier, a mask separating him from the person he once was.
The weight of his unresolved emotions pressed on him, and a singular thought rose to the surface: Mi-Rae. He needed to reconnect with her—not just for her sake but for his own. Could she still recognize the brother she once adored? Could he still claim to be the same man after all he had endured?
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The Meeting
The sun cast long golden shadows across the streets as Jae-Hyun moved through the bustling crowds. Merchants called out their wares, the smell of grilled meats and spiced teas blending with the hum of life that surrounded him. For a moment, the atmosphere tugged at a memory—something fleeting and almost nostalgic.
Ahri sat at an outdoor café, her posture exuding casual confidence. A steaming cup of tea rested in her hands, her sword leaning nonchalantly against the table. When Jae-Hyun approached, her sharp gaze lifted—and froze.
Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. The sharp haircut framed his features, highlighting his defined jawline and piercing blue eyes. His tailored coat enhanced his already formidable presence, and for a moment, Ahri’s composure slipped. A faint blush crept into her cheeks as she struggled to reconcile the Jae-Hyun she knew with the man standing before her.
“Wow,” she said, setting her cup down with an audible clink. Her voice carried genuine surprise, softened by a hint of something else she couldn’t quite place. “You look… different. Really different.”
Jae-Hyun hesitated, momentarily caught off guard. “It’s just a haircut,” he replied, his tone unintentionally curt as he fought the awkwardness building within him.
Ahri tilted her head, her lips curving into an amused smile. “A haircut? Sure, let’s go with that.” Her teasing tone carried enough warmth to ease some of the tension in the air.
He took a seat across from her, trying to shake the uncharacteristic awkwardness that had settled over him. The way she studied him, a mix of curiosity and amusement, only heightened his discomfort.
“You look like you haven’t slept,” she remarked, her gaze softening slightly as she sipped her tea.
Jae-Hyun gave a faint, humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve had worse nights,” Jae-Hyun replied, his voice carrying a tired edge. Straightening his posture, he shifted the conversation. “We need to talk about what’s next.”
Ahri leaned forward slightly, setting her cup aside. “Go on.”
“I need to find my sister,” Jae-Hyun said, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency. “She’s with the Silver Talon Guild, but I don’t know her current situation. I need information—and fast.”
Ahri nodded, her expression growing serious. “And the Tower?”
“It’s our best chance at gaining resources and power,” Jae-Hyun explained. “Towers appeared everywhere after the Cataclysm. They’re filled with monsters, traps, and treasures. You climb floors to earn rewards, and once you clear a floor, you can teleport back to it directly.”
He paused, his voice lowering. “Floor 49 was cleared recently, but no one has made it past floor 50. It’s dangerous, but it’s an opportunity to test ourselves.”
Ahri frowned. “I’ve heard of the Tower, but I’ve never seen it. Sounds like a death trap.”
“It is,” Jae-Hyun admitted, his tone firm. “I’ll need to try it eventually. The Tower’s rewards aren’t just material.” He paused briefly, his thoughts shifting. It’s also an opportunity to see if I can level up further and test Kaelzar.
Ahri crossed her arms, her expression resolute. “Then I’m in. Whether it’s gathering information or backing you up, I’ll help.”
A flicker of gratitude softened Jae-Hyun’s gaze. “Good. Start digging into the Tower. I’ll handle my own preparations.”
Ahri finished her tea, determination gleaming in her eyes. “Consider it done. And you?”
“I’ve got my own tasks,” Jae-Hyun said as he stood, his shadow stretching unnaturally under the sun.
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The Guild Headquarters
The Silver Talon Guild’s headquarters loomed like a fortress, its high walls lined with shimmering runes that pulsed faintly. Jae-Hyun observed from the shadows of a nearby alley, his presence masked by his innate abilities. The area buzzed with activity—guild members sparring in open courtyards, couriers rushing between buildings, and guards stationed at key entry points.
Then, he saw her.
Mi-Rae stepped into view, her posture rigid and commanding. Her dark hair was tied back neatly, her uniform pristine. She moved with an air of authority, her sharp gaze assessing everyone around her.
Jae-Hyun’s chest tightened at the sight. The sister he remembered had always been warm and full of life, with a ready smile that could brighten even the darkest days. He recalled the way she used to run to greet him after training, her laughter ringing through the courtyard as she teased him about his exhaustion.
But now, that warmth was gone. Her laughter had been replaced by curt commands, her easygoing nature overshadowed by a cold detachment. She spoke to a group of guild members with an air of unshakable confidence, her tone firm and unyielding, as though she had been molded into a leader by force rather than choice.
What have they done to you? Jae-Hyun thought, his fists clenching at his sides as a pang of guilt and anger surged within him.
The sister he remembered—the warm, playful Mi-Rae—was gone. In her place stood someone molded by the guild’s relentless demands, her firm tone and cold demeanor a stark contrast to the lively girl he once knew. She spoke to a group of guild members, her tone firm and unyielding, as though she had been molded into a leader.
What have they done to you? Jae-Hyun thought, his fists clenching at his sides.
He strained to hear snippets of their conversation. Mentions of her high ranking and recent promotion reached his ears, but the specifics were lost. At one point, a guild member glanced in his direction, and Jae-Hyun froze, his breath caught in his throat. The moment passed as the guild member turned back, but the near discovery sent a jolt of adrenaline through him, urging him to retreat sooner rather than later. The system offered no insight into her rank, and the gap in his knowledge stung.
Realizing the risk of staying too long, Jae-Hyun retreated into the shadows. He wasn’t ready to face the guild head-on, not yet. But he wouldn’t leave without making his presence known.
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The Shadow’s Message
Jae-Hyun sat cross-legged on the floor of his room, his eyes locked on the faint shimmer of the silver necklace resting in his palm. It was simple, delicate, and unassuming—exactly the kind of gift his sister would appreciate. He had purchased it long before everything fell apart, intending it as a birthday present. He remembered the day he bought it—a sunny afternoon when Mi-Rae had excitedly pointed out a similar design in a shop window, her eyes lighting up with joy. He’d thought of surprising her, a small gesture to show how much he cared. But the Cataclysm and the betrayal had stolen that chance, leaving the necklace untouched until now. Now, it carried a message far greater than words could convey.
He raised his head slightly. With a gesture, the air in the room grew heavier, and the shadows near the corner twisted and writhed until the massive form of the Shadow General emerged. Kaelzar loomed silently, his crimson eyes glowing faintly as they met Jae-Hyun’s.
Jae-Hyun held up the necklace, the delicate chain glinting faintly in the dim light. “Take this,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a weight of unspoken emotion. “Deliver it to her quarters. Leave it on her desk.”
The shadows that made up Kaelzar’s form rippled in silent acknowledgment. The General extended his massive hands, cradling the necklace with unexpected care. Jae-Hyun added a folded piece of paper to the bundle, the words written in his precise, deliberate script: Happy birthday. I’m still here.
Kaelzar lingered for a moment, his presence imposing yet calm, before the shadows enveloped him. The General moved through the dark streets with a fluidity that defied logic, his massive form blending seamlessly into the surrounding shadows. He traversed walls and alleys effortlessly, avoiding detection with an almost preternatural grace. Jae-Hyun watched silently as the massive form dissolved, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. There was a strange weight in seeing Kaelzar depart, as though the simple act of sending the necklace carried the entirety of his unspoken hopes and fears. He clenched his fists slightly, grounding himself against the surge of emotion, and exhaled deeply as the faint chill of the shadows lingered in the room.
Jae-Hyun exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. It’s not much, but it’s a start, he thought, his gaze fixed on the empty corner where Kaelzar had stood. His mind swirled with conflicting emotions—relief at finally reaching out, fear that it might not be enough, and a lingering guilt for not doing more sooner. He wondered how Mi-Rae would react to the gift, whether she would even believe it was from him. A part of him feared that she had changed so much that this small gesture might not matter. Still, he clung to the hope that it would remind her of the bond they once shared, a bond he was determined to rebuild. The weight in his chest didn’t lift entirely, but the act of reaching out, however small, felt like a step forward. As he stood, his mind lingered on a single thought: no matter how far Mi-Rae had been pushed away, he was determined to bring her back—to remind her of who she truly was. He stood, resolved to continue moving forward, no matter how daunting the path.
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Mi-Rae’s Awakening
The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of runes along the walls casting soft shadows across the meticulously arranged space. Mi-Rae sat at her desk, her posture as precise as the lines of the reports she meticulously reviewed. A stack of papers rested to her left, each bearing the Silver Talon Guild’s insignia. Her sharp, cold eyes flicked over the words, absorbing strategies, operations, and upcoming missions.
She had long abandoned the indulgence of personal moments, burying herself in the work demanded by her rank. But as she leaned back in her chair, stretching slightly, a faint rustle reached her ears. Her head snapped toward the sound, her instincts on high alert.
Her gaze landed on the desk, where a small, unassuming package now lay. Mi-Rae’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t heard anyone enter, and the door had remained firmly closed. Slowly, she reached for the item, her movements cautious. The package felt cool to the touch, the faint shimmer of the silver necklace catching the glow of the runes. Beneath it, a folded piece of paper rested.
She hesitated, her heart beating faster, though she couldn’t say why. Something about the simplicity of the necklace tugged at her memory. Her fingers trembled slightly as she unfolded the paper. Words, written in precise, familiar handwriting, stared back at her:
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Happy birthday. I’m still here.
Her gaze drifted back to the necklace—its delicate chain glinting faintly under the runic glow. The simple elegance was exactly her style, tugging at memories of her brother’s teasing grin as he promised, 'One day, I’ll get it for you.' She clutched it to her chest, a fragile lifeline to the bond they once shared.
The air in the room seemed to shift, the oppressive weight she had grown accustomed to suddenly heavier. Mi-Rae’s breath caught as she read the words again, her vision blurring with unbidden tears.
“Jae-Hyun,” she whispered, the name cracking as it left her lips.
A flood of memories surged forward—her brother’s warm laughter, the way he used to ruffle her hair despite her protests, the reassuring presence that had always made her feel safe. Her grip tightened on the paper as her shoulders began to shake. Relief coursed through her, but it was tainted by a sharp undercurrent of anger. They had lied to her, twisted her brother's supposed death into a weapon to forge her into this cold, unyielding figure. How dare they? How dare they manipulate her grief like that? The realization stung, but it also reignited a determination she hadn’t felt in years.
They had told her he was dead. Her father, her brother Tae-Jun—both had insisted that Jae-Hyun had fallen to monsters far beyond his ability. They had used his death to drive her, to push her beyond her limits, to mold her into the unyielding leader she had become.
But deep down, she had never fully believed it. The idea that Jae-Hyun—her unshakable, stubborn, invincible brother—could be gone had never sat right with her. And now, this simple message confirmed what her heart had refused to accept.
Tears streamed down her face as she clutched the necklace to her chest, her composed façade crumbling in the privacy of her room. The necklace—the very one she had admired in a shop window long ago—was unmistakable. She vividly recalled the day: they had been walking through the marketplace, her attention caught by its simple elegance. "You like that?" Jae-Hyun had teased, his warm grin teasingly infectious. She’d brushed it off, but he’d promised, "One day, I’ll get it for you." She never imagined that promise would resurface now, in a moment she’d long stopped hoping for. She remembered that day vividly, the way Jae-Hyun had laughed at her fascination with such a simple trinket, promising to get it for her one day.
“You’re alive,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. The words felt surreal, as though saying them aloud might shatter the fragile reality. Her tears continued to fall, a catharsis of joy, relief, and heartbreak.
The pain of betrayal simmered beneath her relief, a bitter reminder of the lies she had been fed. For a brief moment, she wondered why Jae-Hyun hadn’t come to her himself. The answer arrived as quickly as the question: their father and Tae-Jun. Of course. He couldn’t risk exposing himself to their plots, not yet. Her brother was alive, but he was still in danger. That thought only strengthened her resolve—she would find him, but quietly. She would keep up the act, pretending everything was as it had been, all while searching for the brother who had defied death. Her father and Tae-Jun had used her brother’s supposed death to control her, to manipulate her into becoming a tool for the guild. But for now, that anger took a backseat to the overwhelming relief that Jae-Hyun was alive.
She placed the necklace around her neck, the cool metal settling against her skin. The sensation was both grounding and surreal, as though her brother’s presence was physically with her.
As her fingers brushed the delicate chain, a surge of warmth spread through her chest. The cold weight she had carried for so long began to lift, replaced by something she hadn’t felt in years—hope. Her trembling hand clenched into a fist over the necklace. Jae-Hyun had defied death to send her this message, and she wouldn’t let his effort go unanswered. A fire reignited within her, burning away the bitterness that had consumed her. She would find him, no matter the cost. And when she did, she would remind herself—and him—of the bond they could never lose.
She paused, frowning slightly. How had it even gotten here? She hadn’t sensed anyone, and no alarms had been triggered. “Unease flickered in her thoughts—how had the necklace even arrived without setting off alarms? But she dismissed it quickly. If anyone could pull it off, it was Jae-Hyun. She trusted his resourcefulness.
The faintest trace of something lingered in the air, an unnatural stillness that vanished as quickly as it came. It felt like a piece of him, a tangible connection to the brother she had thought she’d lost forever. Her hand rested over it, her resolve solidifying. She wouldn’t let them control her anymore, not completely. For now, she would play her part, feigning loyalty to the guild while keeping her intentions hidden. But in her heart, she knew the truth: she would find Jae-Hyun, no matter what it took. And once she did, she wouldn’t let him out of her sight again.
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Jae-Hyun leaned against the cold stone wall of a quiet alley, scanning the messages Ahri had sent. She had been quick to gather information about the Tower, but none of it was particularly new to him. Still, her thoroughness was commendable, and her findings carried a professional edge that made him appreciate her involvement.
Ahri: The Tower’s floor 49 was cleared by a high-ranked guild three weeks ago. Floor 50 is still untouched. Aegis Legion and Crimson Blades are rumored to be challenging it soon. Nothing groundbreaking, but their success could change things.
Another message followed shortly:
Ahri: Also found info on gate ownerships. Silver Talon controls at least three Class-B gates within the capital’s outskirts. Couldn’t confirm more without drawing suspicion. I’ll keep digging.
Jae-Hyun tucked his phone into his pocket, his mind heavy with the implications. Silver Talon’s grip extended further than he’d realized, and their gate holdings likely played a significant role in maintaining their power. Still, it wasn’t enough to act on just yet. He needed to grow stronger, to secure more leverage before he could make his move.
He pushed off the wall, deciding to wander the bustling city streets for a while. The vibrant energy of Seoul felt surreal after the oppressive silence of the Twilight Vale. Merchants hawked their goods, adventurers in various states of readiness exchanged boasts, and civilians navigated the chaos with practiced ease. Jae-Hyun kept his hood low, avoiding unnecessary attention as he moved through the throngs of people.
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He turned a corner into a quieter district, the din of the main streets fading behind him. As he walked, a voice cut through the relative calm, one that sent a chill down his spine.
“You’re certain the preparations are in place?”
Jae-Hyun froze, his body tensing instinctively as his breath caught in his throat. Tae-Jun’s voice was sharp and commanding, carrying a weight that sent a chill through him. Every syllable seemed to echo, amplifying the tension. Jae-Hyun pressed himself tighter against the wall, the rough stone digging into his back. For a moment, Tae-Jun’s sharp gaze swept dangerously close to his hiding spot, forcing Jae-Hyun to hold his breath. The sound of his brother’s boots against the cobblestones was a steady reminder of just how close he was to being discovered. He ducked behind a low wall, his shadows coiling protectively around him as he peered out cautiously. There, a short distance away, stood Tae-Jun.
Tae-Jun’s sharp features were unmistakable, his posture exuding authority as he spoke to another man dressed in the Silver Talon Guild’s uniform. His brother’s voice was calm yet carried an edge of command that made Jae-Hyun’s stomach churn.
“Double-check the guard rotations. I don’t want any oversights,” Tae-Jun continued, his tone clipped. “We can’t afford distractions while we focus on the upcoming operations.”
The other man nodded, offering a quick salute before hurrying away. Tae-Jun lingered, scanning the surroundings briefly before turning to leave. His movements were precise and calculated, each step exuding purpose. Jae-Hyun’s gaze narrowed as he observed his brother. This wasn’t just a figurehead of the guild; Tae-Jun’s commanding presence hinted at a deeper role in their plans, a key player pulling strings from behind the scenes. The thought sent a shiver through Jae-Hyun, solidifying the gulf between them and the magnitude of what he faced.
For a brief moment, Jae-Hyun felt an overwhelming urge to step out of hiding, to confront Tae-Jun directly. His hands twitched, and his jaw tightened. But logic prevailed, and he forced himself to stay put, the shadows around him tightening in silent restraint. Acting now would be reckless, a suicide mission fueled by emotion rather than strategy.
He opened his status interface, almost hesitating before focusing on his brother. The system displayed the familiar window, but one detail stood out like a glaring beacon:
Tae-Jun
Rank: A
Status: Red
The sight made Jae-Hyun’s chest tighten. Rank A. Memories of their shared past flooded his mind unbidden—sparring matches in the training grounds, late-night talks about their ambitions, and Tae-Jun’s quiet encouragement when Jae-Hyun doubted himself. He could almost hear Tae-Jun’s voice from years ago, laughing as he adjusted Jae-Hyun’s stance during training. Those moments felt like a cruel mockery now, overshadowed by the betrayal that had shattered their bond. Anger and pain simmered beneath his calm exterior, igniting a determination to one day face his brother as an equal, not a victim.
He had suspected it, but seeing the confirmation ignited a mix of frustration and grim resolve. The red status was a warning, a reminder of the gulf that still separated them. Tae-Jun wasn’t just strong—he was leagues above Jae-Hyun’s current capabilities.
Jae-Hyun clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He wasn’t ready—not yet. But the system’s display was a stark reminder of the work that lay ahead. His brother’s confidence, his commanding presence, only reinforced the urgency of Jae-Hyun’s need to grow stronger.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. Acting impulsively now would accomplish nothing. Instead, he withdrew into the shadows, letting them swallow him as he moved away from the scene unnoticed.
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Back in his room, Jae-Hyun sat in silence, the memory of Tae-Jun’s rank burned into his mind. The sight of that crimson Rank A was more than a status—it was a statement of the gap that separated them, both in strength and in choices made. His thoughts churned with a mix of frustration and longing, recalling fleeting memories of the bond they once shared. He could almost hear Tae-Jun’s voice from years ago, encouraging him during their training, their shared ambitions as brothers intertwining. Now, that voice carried commands for someone else. The betrayal ran deeper than strength—it was personal.
But Jae-Hyun knew he couldn’t afford to dwell on it. Instead, he clung to the resolve that had kept him moving forward. He would close the gap, one step at a time, no matter the cost. The encounter had only reinforced his decision to tackle the Tower. It was the only way to grow stronger. As if responding to his resolve, a system notification materialized before his eyes:
System Notification: Quest: Conquer the Tower Progress: 0/?
Jae-Hyun’s chest tightened as he read the notification. The Tower was no longer just a looming challenge—it was now a structured path laid out by the system, tempting and demanding at the same time. Another line of red text caught his eye, a sharp reminder of what he had just seen:
Tae-Jun – Rank A – Red
The notification served as a cruel juxtaposition, a stark reminder of the gap he needed to close. Frustration welled up within him, spurred by the memory of his brother’s commanding presence and the mocking red indicator. His hands clenched involuntarily, nails digging into his palms. It wasn’t just a quest—it was a challenge to his resolve and a chance to tip the scales in his favor.
He thought of the Tower itself, a monolith of challenges and secrets looming over the city. Its shadow stretched endlessly, a silent reminder of the trials awaiting him within. The higher floors were spoken of in hushed tones, their dangers a mix of rumor and reality. No one had dared to face them alone. Jae-Hyun would be the first.
"I have no choice," Jae-Hyun murmured to himself, his voice cold yet determined. "The Tower is my path forward. I’ll conquer it."
The air in his room felt heavier as Jae-Hyun began his preparations. Shadows flickered faintly along the walls, as though reacting to the tension in the room. He opened his inventory, methodically reviewing its contents.
The cool glass of a potion vial was smooth against his fingertips, the liquid inside swirling with a faint glow that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. The weight of his blade was familiar, its edge gleaming under the dim light as he inspected it for any imperfection. A faint metallic scent lingered in the air, mingling with the subdued hum of the system interface that loomed at the edge of his vision.
Would this be enough?
His gaze shifted to the system interface hovering before him, displaying his stats in cold, unfeeling numbers. They had grown exponentially since the day he’d awakened to this new reality.
No matter how much he prepared, the doubt lingered—an insidious voice whispering that he still wasn’t enough. The memory of Tae-Jun’s crimson Rank A flashed in his mind, its weight a stark reminder of his inadequacy. But he couldn’t afford to falter now. Every step forward was a step closer to his sister—and to reclaiming the life they’d lost.
He selected his skills one by one, reviewing their descriptions with meticulous care. His thoughts churned with strategies and contingency plans, each adjustment a step toward survival. The system’s faint hum was ever-present, its indifference both a comfort and a reminder of the stakes.
The city outside bustled with life, its distant sounds muffled by the thick walls of his room. Yet, Jae-Hyun’s focus remained inward. Each item he equipped and every preparation he made felt like a deliberate step toward an inevitable confrontation. He could feel the shadows coiling protectively around him, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t entirely alone.
Once his gear was set, he stood before the mirror, his reflection staring back at him. The man he saw was a stranger and yet entirely familiar. His new haircut, refined and practical, framed a face that had shed its former boyishness. His tailored clothing conveyed a quiet confidence, masking the storm of emotions beneath. But it wasn’t vanity that held his gaze—it was the determination reflected in his eyes, a silent promise to himself and to Mi-Rae.
Stepping out into the streets, Jae-Hyun’s destination was unmistakable. The Tower loomed ahead, its massive silhouette a dark monument to both fear and ambition. The crowd thinned as he approached, the whispers trailing in his wake impossible to ignore.
“Surely he’s not really going in alone,” someone said, their voice tinged with disbelief.
“There must be someone waiting for him on the lower floors,” another suggested.
“But look at him,” another voice scoffed, louder this time. “Just one more who thinks they’re invincible.”
Jae-Hyun’s sharp gaze darted toward the speaker, cold and piercing. The man froze mid-sentence, his expression faltering under the weight of the silent challenge. The murmurs quickly quieted as Jae-Hyun turned back, his stride unbroken as he approached the Tower.
The massive doors of the Tower came into view, intricate carvings covering their surface in patterns that seemed to pulse faintly with life. The air grew colder as he approached, the weight of the structure’s presence pressing down on him. Whispers of adventurers who had entered and never returned echoed in his mind, blending with the murmurs of the crowd behind him. He ignored them all.
Standing before the doors, he reached out, pressing his hand firmly against the cold stone. His hand trembled slightly as it made contact with the ancient carvings. The cold stone seemed to pulse faintly, sending a shiver up his arm. The oppressive stillness around him thickened, pressing down on his chest as the doors groaned open. The darkness beyond felt alive, as though it were watching, waiting. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to steady his nerves. There was no turning back.
The system’s voice rang out in his mind, sharp and unyielding:
System Notification: Welcome, Challenger. Progress is survival. Failure is death.
The doors groaned as they began to open, revealing an abyss of impenetrable darkness. The faint hum of energy filled the air, and a shiver ran down his spine. Jae-Hyun took a deep breath and stepped forward, his figure swallowed by the shadows as the massive doors closed behind him, sealing him inside the Tower’s depths.
The crowd outside lingered for a moment longer, murmuring amongst themselves.
“Alone… He’s insane.”
“Maybe he will stick to the lower floors. Or maybe we’ll never hear from him again.”
The murmurs of the crowd grew louder as two figures emerged from the shadows of a nearby balcony, their presence commanding attention without a single word. Clad in gear that was both practical and ornate, the unmistakable insignia of Arcane Concord glimmered faintly on their armor.
“Who are they?” a young adventurer whispered, nudging his companion.
His companion glanced toward the duo and lowered his voice. “That’s Han Min-Seo and Kang Ji-Hoon—Arcane Concord’s leader and vice leader.”
“No way,” the first adventurer said, his eyes wide. “What are they doing here?”
“I don’t know” came the reply. “But don’t get your hopes up. If even they haven’t cleared floor 50 yet, no one else is doing it anytime soon.”
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The perspective shifts briefly to Min-Seo and Ji-Hoon.
“Another one who thinks the world bends for them,” Ji-Hoon muttered, arms crossed. “He’s got the look—arrogance with a side of desperation. It’s the kind that gets you killed.”
Min-Seo’s gaze lingered on the Tower’s sealed doors. “Maybe,” she said, her voice distant. “But his steps weren’t careless—they were deliberate. He’s not like the others.”
Ji-Hoon raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear in his expression. “Different how?”
Min-Seo didn’t answer immediately. She watched as the heavy doors closed behind Jae-Hyun, her sharp eyes narrowing as if trying to pierce the veil of shadows. “I don’t know yet,” she admitted, her tone thoughtful. “But he’s not like the others.”
Ji-Hoon scoffed lightly but didn’t press further. Min-Seo’s instincts were rarely wrong, and he had learned long ago to trust her judgment. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” he said, straightening. “If he makes it out alive.”
Min-Seo’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, though her gaze remained distant. “Yes, we will.”
----------------------------------------
The air inside the Tower was still, unnervingly so. Jae-Hyun’s steps echoed faintly as he moved forward, the darkness around him giving way to an entirely different scene. His surroundings shifted, and soon he found himself standing in what appeared to be a forest.
This wasn’t like any forest he’d seen before. The towering trees stretched impossibly high, their canopies filtering an eerie, artificial light. The faint shimmer of the Tower’s walls encased the forest in an unnatural dome, curving upward endlessly.
The light filtering through the canopy above felt artificial, neither warm nor natural, but bright enough to illuminate the dense undergrowth below. A faint mist lingered at the edges, swirling lazily as though it had a mind of its own.
Jae-Hyun scanned his surroundings, his sharp blue eyes picking out the details. The ground was littered with patches of moss and tangled roots, while faint trails led deeper into the forest. Despite the unsettling quiet, nothing about this floor seemed threatening—not yet.
“It’s just a forest,” Jae-Hyun muttered, his tone clipped as he stepped forward cautiously. The scene felt mundane, too ordinary for a place like the Tower. But the faint rustle of leaves and an unnatural chill in the air hinted at something more—a lurking threat that waited for its moment to strike.
He heard a faint rustling nearby and immediately tensed, his senses sharpening. A moment later, the source revealed itself—a small, timid creature with dull brown fur and beady eyes. Its status appeared before him in the system interface:
Level 3 Forest Hopper.
Jae-Hyun frowned. The creature looked harmless, barely a threat. It hopped about, sniffing the air, unaware of his presence. A glance around revealed several more of the same creatures scattered throughout the area, moving lazily as though oblivious to any danger.
"Figures the first floor wouldn’t offer much," Jae-Hyun muttered, his tone laced with quiet disappointment.
The faint ripple of shadows at his side drew his attention. Kaelzar emerged silently, his massive form imposing even in the calm forest. The Shadow General’s crimson eyes glowed faintly as he awaited orders, his very presence a stark contrast to the serenity around them.
Jae-Hyun pointed toward one of the creatures. “Kill it.”
Kaelzar didn’t hesitate. With a swift, fluid motion, the Shadow General closed the distance, his massive hand enveloping the Forest Hopper before it could react. The creature let out a faint squeak before its body dissolved into shimmering particles, leaving behind a faint trace of energy that drifted toward Jae-Hyun.
System Notification: XP Gained.
Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed as he studied the notification, his mind racing. He opened the system interface, confirming the slight increase in his experience bar. The realization hit him like a spark igniting dry wood.
“I can level up here,” he murmured, a flicker of excitement breaking through his usually stoic demeanour. His gaze swept over the forest again, this time with a renewed sense of purpose. The low-level monsters no longer felt insignificant—they were opportunities.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned to Kaelzar. “Let’s see how far we can go.”
With that, Jae-Hyun stepped deeper into the forest, the towering trees and low mist surrounding him like a prelude to the trials ahead. For the first time, the daunting shadow of the Tower felt less like a cage and more like a battlefield waiting to be conquered.