Yggy's fingers brushed over the phantom surface of the Book of Greed, the way one might check an ID card—like it was presenting credentials for what he truly was. His eyes traced the shimmering letters, but his mind kept circling back to the raw truth of his current state.
Personal Stats
Name: Yggy Medas
Aether Rank: (F)
Aether Proficiency: Level 7
Class: Criteria not met
STR: 215
DEX: 325
VIT: 145
INT: 70
LUCK: 7
Book of Greed: 126 / 150 pages
Main Quest
Defeat the Lycan King at the Top FloorReward: CLAIM YOUR DESIRE — "EVERYTHING?"
Floor Quest
Defeat Enemies — (120 / 1000)Defeat the Boss of the Floor — (0 / 1)Reward:
• Entry to 2nd Floor
• Gain the Ability: Dimensional Store
Ability — Looter System Activated
The Sight of Looter: Control any object marked with your Aether, guided entirely by your mind.
Book of Greed (Dimensional Storage): All items stored will be transferred into the Book.
To activate: Simply think of it—it will manifest.To store an item: As long as it's marked with your Aether, it can be stored at will.To manifest: At your will, it will appear anywhere within a 2-meter radius.Radius will increase for each lvl of your int by 10The Book of Greed can be seen by others, but cannot be touched or destroyed by anyone—even you.Page count is determined by your Aether Proficiency.
Looter Domain (Aether Zoning): Enhances your ability to harness Aether within your body and marks all areas touched by your Aether.
System Mechanics:
All stats have been reset to 1.You will not gain stat points by leveling up. Any Negative effects or conditions will not affect you.All stats and attributes from items stored within the Book of Greed are added to your personal stats.
Special Buff
Warm Felt Inside a House: Immune to the coldness of snow and wind as long as you have a structure of +5 in your Book of Greed.
Two levels. That's all he'd gained from carving through a hundred goblins.
Pathetic, compared to the twenty goblins he'd felled before.
The logic clicked like an old RPG rule etched into his head: the greater the gap between your prey's level and your own, the weaker the reward. Experience dwindles, no matter the blood you spill.
But it wasn't that thought that anchored his attention.
Book of Greed: 126/150 pages.
That… was new.
He tapped the air where the letters hung. "Greed… How much do I gain pages?"
The ink began to curl across the inner page. 10.
"So I started at eighty?"
That is correct.
"Twenty-four more… unless I level up," he murmured, his breath curling into the cold air. A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
His gaze shifted forward. Past the quiet battlefield where orc blood still steamed in the snow. Past the frost-caked pine line. There—about a kilometer ahead—an encampment of goblins huddled like vermin.
The snow still fell, fine and ceaseless, muffling the world under its cold shroud. But here on the first floor, the weather was eternal—days, weeks, months… it didn't matter. Time didn't touch it.
Yggy flexed his fingers once, the itch to move growing sharper. The cold couldn't bite him—not with the Warm Felt Inside a House buff humming quietly in his veins. His breath rose in steady plumes, eyes narrowing on his next hunt.
Yggy's gaze swept the goblin encampment. The snow-laden wind cut across his cheek, carrying the smell of burnt meat and unwashed bodies. At first, it was just the usual—tents made of stretched hide, crude wooden posts, smoke curling into the pale sky.
Then he saw them.
Two goblins by the front gate
[Goblin Guard (Lv. 7)]
Their posture was tighter, their weapons sharper than the usual rabble.
At the center, half-swallowed by the haze of his blurred right eye, a single nameplate burned into view above a hunched figure:
[?????? (Lv. 15)]
Its letters glowed in a deep crimson hue, framed by the sharp edges of a red template—an unmistakable mark of an enemy far above his level.
"That must be the leader…" Yggy murmured, shifting his head slightly to ease the strain. The blur in his right eye made everything swim at the edges, depth perception wobbling like unsteady glass.
He had planned to strike at night, but the Tower didn't obey the rules of the outside world. Time here was a loop, and on this floor, the sky's pale light never dimmed. With the snow and wind offering no cover, visibility was merciless.
Book of Greed — 126 / 150 pages.
Twenty-four left. Enough room to take whatever he could along the way—but those guards might yield more than the runts.
A faint grin tugged at his lips. It was like playing an RPG, weighing numbers against danger. His gloved fingers brushed the phantom pages of the Book of Greed until they stopped on something—an old loot he'd nearly forgotten: a sagging, weather-beaten Run-down House.
The plan clicked.
No more thinking.
Yggy stepped forward, boots crunching against packed snow. The first goblin spotted him, shrieked, and jabbed a clawed finger. More shapes turned, voices rising, the sound of crude weapons being drawn. Five goblins in all, with two guards at their heels, rushed toward the gate.
Before they could spill out, Yggy whispered,
"Manifest: Run-down House."
The world flickered—snow vanishing in an instant—and he stood inside crooked walls and rotting wood.
A sharp chime split the silence as a translucent panel appeared right in front of him:
[ Alert: Warm Felt Inside a House — Deactivated ]
[ Buff Removed: Warm Felt Inside a House ]
The cold hit instantly. It slid back into his bones, the same biting frost that had greeted him when he first stepped onto this floor. He shut the warped door—not just to temper the chill, but to drown himself in the shadow of the interior.
Only a thin shaft of light pierced through a hole in the broken ceiling, casting a pale stripe across the dusty floorboards. The rest of the room was thick with darkness, the air still and dry.
He slid toward the warped window frame, moving low, breath slow. Outside, he tracked the movement—five goblins, two guards—closing in fast.
My plan is working, he thought, eyes narrowing.
His voice dropped to a low murmur.
"Manifest: Ten cleavers. Five spears."
Metal shimmered into existence, one after another, cold steel catching what little light there was. Yggy pointed, placing each with precision—against doorframes, beside windows, half-hidden in shadow—turning the room into a silent killing ground.
The trap was set.
BAM!
The front door rattled under the impact, hinges groaning. Another crash followed, louder, heavier—BAM!
Yggy's hand gripped the latch. Timing was everything.
The next hit came, and he yanked the door open. Momentum did the rest—the first Goblin Guard (Lv. 7) hurtled forward, its weight and speed dragging it straight into the room. It stumbled two steps in, eyes widening, unprepared for the darkness.
"Telekinesis," Yggy muttered.
Five cleavers shot up from the floor, slicing in from every angle. At the same moment, five spears streaked forward, their points flashing in the dim light. Steel met flesh in a wet, tearing chorus—the guard was stabbed, slashed, and pinned before it could even raise its weapon.
It sagged forward, breath choking in its throat.
"Looter Domain."
"Loot."
Before the body could collapse, it vanished—sucked into the Book of Greed. Only the spoils remained: the five bloodied cleavers and five spears clattering to the floor where they had struck.
A system panel flared before Yggy's eyes:
[ Congratulations! ]
Level Up: 7 → 8
Luck: 7 → 8
Another panel followed, the Book of Greed tallying his adjusted stats:
[ Book of Greed — Stat Update ]
STR: 215 (-5) → 210 → (+2.5) = 212
DEX: 325 (-3) → 322 → (+3.5) = 325
VIT: 145 (-10) → 135 → (+2) = 137
INT: 70 (-2) → 68 → (+1) = 69
LUCK: 8
The numbers faded, but the soft hum of fresh power lingered in his limbs. One down.
Yggy ignored the flashing panels and the Book of Greed's numbers. None of it mattered right now.
The moment the first goblin guard dropped, he moved—slipping from behind the door like a shadow. One quick, fluid step, and the blade kissed the throat of the goblin stepping inside. The cut was clean, deep. The body collapsed in a single hit.
"Loot," Yggy muttered. The corpse vanished before it hit the ground, and a rush of strength and speed coursed through his body like warm liquid fire.
Another goblin lunged through the doorway—its jaw snapping in a guttural snarl—only for a spear to rocket forward, guided by Yggy's mind, and bury itself between its eyes.
"Loot." The body was gone in a blink.
Then four more rushed in. The goblin guard at the rear shoved the first three goblins forward, forcing them into a messy, simultaneous attack. Before their blades could find him, Yggy pivoted into the corner of the room. They stumbled past, swinging into empty air.
BAM! The door slammed shut. Telekinesis
In the pitch-dark, they faltered. Steel sang in the silence—stab, slash, stab, slash—each strike tearing through unguarded flesh. The cramped space turned the fight into butchery. Blood sprayed hot against the cold wood as the goblins fell one by one.
Even the second goblin guard, in its rage, stabbed one of its own by mistake. In a blur, three goblin corpses lay still on the floorboards. Yggy didn't loot them. Not yet.
The door creaked open again. Light spilled inside—cold, white. The remaining guard stumbled in the threshold, both arms gone, blood pouring from the ragged stumps. Yggy seized it by the neck and dragged it outside into the snow.
He leaned close, whispering in its ear.
"Scream. Ask for help."
The guard only gurgled, defiant. Yggy drove a cleaver into its belly, twisting hard. Pain tore the scream from its throat. The sound was raw, piercing, and it carried.
From the encampment, goblins turned. Then they rushed—dozens, then more—until a tide of over a hundred green-skinned shapes surged toward the gate.
To drive them further into rage, Yggy swung the cleaver again—clean and sharp. The guard's head came free in a single motion.
He hurled it into the oncoming mob. One of the goblin at the front caught it, stared, and roared in fury.
Yggy stepped backward into the house, cleaver still in hand. His boots thudded against the floor, heavy and deliberate. The door slammed shut, the latch clicking into place.
A panel appeared before him—dark background, a grinning devil emoji glowing in deep crimson. It pulsed slowly, almost like it was breathing. Whoever was on the other side of that panel… was enjoying every second.