How a Wimp Conquers the Tower 19
Bong Minhyuk was a sophomore in the Department of Electronic Engineering at Korea University.
His nickname was "Datem."
A nickname taken from the name of a unit in a computer game that specialized in hiding its presence.
A student who came to campus quietly and disappeared quietly—someone with no presence at all.
He never attended department MTs, sports festivals, or any kind of gathering.
He had never once been to a drinking party.
He studied exclusively in the library.
Graduate as fast as possible, get a job, and rebuild the family.
And repay the debt he owed his older brother.
Even Minhyuk, though, knew very well about players.
If he awakened, it was something he thought he might at least consider once.
Not that he would actually do it—just consider it.
In the end, he knew himself well enough to know he wouldn't.
But now his brother had awakened?
And was even active as a player?
That alone was shocking enough to make him faint—but what?
An elite contract?
That same blood relative of his who got smacked on the back by Mom?
Clap clap clap clap!
"Aaaah! Aaaahhh!"
"You worthless little bastard! You make a decision that big without even discussing it with your family?!"
"You'd just oppose it anyway!"
"Did you even ask? Did you ask or not?!"
"Aaagh! Stop hitting me! I swear—I'm gonna activate my barrier!"
"What? A barrier? Have you lost your mind?!"
As expected of his brother.
He knew perfectly well that exaggerating his screams would make her hit him less.
"Aah! Aaagh! Aaaaaagh!"
Perhaps tired of hitting him, Mom—Hong Geumja—stopped, panting for breath.
Seizing the moment, Minhyuk asked Juhyeok,
"Hyung, c-calm down and explain. You've awakened, and you're actually active as a player, right?"
"Yeah."
"And on top of that, the government offered you an elite contract?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Holy shit. That makes no sense."
"It does."
Their father, Bong Cheolsu, was also stunned.
Wasn't this son even more timid than himself?
"Y-you… are you really my son?"
Juhyeok, sulking after getting smacked on the back.
His father hadn't even tried to stop it—just watched.
So he decided to get a little crooked.
"Well, who knows? Maybe I was switched at birth in the hospital."
Bong Cheolsu examined Juhyeok's face from every angle.
A perfect copy.
They'd been told all their lives that he looked so much like his parents that there was no way he could be a cuckoo's egg.
"Then something must be wrong with your mind."
"Haah, I guess so, right? Must be genetic."
"I didn't raise you to be this brave. I'm disappointed in you, son."
"I know. …Must be Mom's genes?"
Glare.
Juhyeok's mother shot him a sharp look.
Still, perhaps feeling guilty for hitting him, she sighed.
"Juhyeok."
"Yes, Mom."
"My lawsuit, your father's rehab, Minhyuk's scholarship… are all of those related to your elite contract?"
"…Yes. Honestly, I didn't know either. I had no idea they'd go this far."
He hadn't asked the Management Agency to do any of it, but it had all happened because of him.
"So what you're saying is… the people at the agency needed to get on our good side in order to sign you to an elite contract?"
"Um… probably."
"Is that so?"
Was he about to get scolded?
Hit again?
"I'm sorry. For surprising you."
Hong Geumja didn't answer.
Instead, she fell into deep thought.
Then—
"Juhyeok, how do you feel?"
"About what?"
"Being a player. Is it doable?"
At his mother's question, he thought carefully once more.
"So far, it's been okay."
"And… you're confident you won't get hurt?"
Let's see.
Cossack, who protected him almost excessively.
Gobang, the barbarian warrior who threw himself into battle without a thought for his own body.
And once the cooldown ended, he could summon yet another blood-summoned companion.
So—
"I'm confident. Confident I won't get hurt, and that I won't die."
"…Really?"
Was it sincere—or not?
Hong Geumja stared into her son's eyes for a long while.
It was sincere.
She'd raised him long enough to know just by looking.
In truth, when she first heard that he was active as a player, surprise came before anger.
Him?
Her eldest son, who used to flinch even when a chihuahua barked, climbing the tower?
And on top of that, being recognized by others?
Complicated emotions.
She was angry, worried, and proud—all at once.
So—
"Then do it. Sign the elite contract too. If you're going to do it, it's better to do it with the country's support."
At her declaration, both the father and Minhyuk protested in unison.
"Are you crazy?"
"Mom! No! Don't you know how dangerous being a player is?"
"Minhyuk's right. So what if I don't do rehab? I'm calling the hospital right now. Let's pretend it never happened."
"I'll give up my scholarship too. I'm taking a leave of absence next semester anyway."
The father and younger brother objected, but once Mom made her decision, the game was already over.
"Everyone, quiet. This is the first time in my life I've seen our Juhyeok make such an active decision about something. If you can't support him, at least don't stand in his way."
Oh!
This was a good vibe.
"Juhyeok's mom, think about it again. It's dangerous!"
"If being a player meant everyone died, would people still be doing it? That's old talk. These days, everyone's living just fine."
"N-no, that's true, but…"
"And is the outside world not dangerous? You were so careful yourself, and you still slipped on an icy road and almost ended up as incense."
"Ugh…"
"Minhyuk, did you forget when you were ten and got hit by a bicycle, bleeding everywhere and passing out? If it had been a car instead, do you think you'd have lived?"
"That—that's too much."
"Juhyeok is an adult. He's responsible for his own life."
And then—
"Juhyeok."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"I may sound like a bad mother, pushing my child into danger, but I'm proud of you. Your talent must be something else for the government to go this far."
"Hahaha, well… I am kind of outstanding."
"But if you get hurt, I'll kill you! And if it starts feeling wrong, you cancel the contract immediately."
"Understood. Safety first, no matter what."
"What's with that way of talking?"
He had his family's permission.
So now, it was time to make the call.
Juhyeok dialed Team Leader Jeon Gwang-il's number on his smartphone.
"Team Leader."
—Have you made your decision?
"Yes. I'll sign the contract."
—I'll send a car right away.
An elite contract, at last.
His heart started pounding.
※ ※ ※
Juhyeok signed the elite contract at the Management Agency's office.
His hand trembled—
Had he ever imagined he'd be signing something like this?
"The annual salary is two billion won."
"We apologize. That is the standard starting salary for players offered elite contracts. You could receive much more, but…"
"…But that would require revealing that I'm an S++ clear record holder, right?"
"Procedurally, yes."
It was a government agency funded by taxes.
They needed justification to raise salaries.
"Um, please keep it a secret that I'm an S++ clear record holder. Please. I mean it."
"That is what we want as well. Though I was wondering if you might feel dissatisfied that your benefits are similar to other elite players'."
"Oh, not at all!"
Two billion won was more than enough.
Magic stone income was separate anyway.
If his identity were exposed and his personal information made public—
His face splashed across TV, the media, social networks; his family flustered; not even being able to go outside freely…
Just imagining it was terrifying.
That was why he hadn't even told his family that he was an S++ clear record holder.
If possible, he'd hide it as long as he could.
That wasn't the only reason he agreed to just the base salary.
He attached many conditions to the contract.
The points Cossack had mentioned.
Ascending uncleared floors would be decided solely by him.
There would be absolutely no outside interference.
No filming of clears.
He disclosed in advance that his trait was summoning.
However, he would not reveal the existence of his summons.
He would accept protection, but with maximum respect for his private life.
No one could enter his home without permission.
Security cameras would be installed only outside the residence.
"Oh, and the loan you took out to purchase the alloy hand shield has been cleared."
"…Again?"
"Again?"
"N-no, it's nothing."
Strange.
Every time he took out a loan, it vanished without him needing to repay it.
Same with Smile Cash. Same with the player shop.
Was this some kind of divine revelation telling him it was fine to borrow as much money as he wanted?
"If you need any other equipment, feel free to request it anytime. Rentals are also available."
Lavish support.
Meticulous care.
And so, Juhyeok was reborn as an elite player.
The move was decided quickly.
There was no rush, but the Management Agency wanted him relocated immediately.
His personal residence would be separate from his family's.
Since many elite players made similar requests, it went through without issue.
His personal officetel would be provided as a free lease.
The family apartment would be transferred into Juhyeok's name as owned property, as compensation for becoming part of the elite team.
All related procedures were handled by the agency.
"It's an 18-pyeong, two-room officetel. Appliances and furniture are included, so you can move in immediately."
"…"
Is this a palace or something?
This is insane. Completely insane.
It was so clean and comfortable.
Had he ever even seen a place like this?
"…There aren't any hidden cameras, right?"
"Absolutely not. Never. That would cause a massive scandal. If it were discovered, the commissioner would have to resign. You're welcome to call in a company to inspect it."
He felt a little bad for doubting them.
"Also, since this officetel is provided by the Management Agency, many players live here. Most of them, actually."
"Are they all elite-team players?"
"There are regular contract holders as well. They bought their units and moved in. Security is guaranteed here."
"…I see."
Keeping everyone in one place made protection easier.
"All residents have verified identities. There are many decent people, so it might be good to get along with them."
Get along with them?
That sounded burdensome.
The move began.
He didn't think he had much to take, but once he actually started, that wasn't true at all.
So moving and organizing took quite some time.
※ ※ ※
Yoo Cheol-min was Korea's number one ranked player, and second in the world.
After clearing the notoriously difficult 65th floor, he was now challenging the 66th.
His trait was All-Weapon Warrior.
Through trait enhancement runes, he could wield no fewer than forty elemental trait skills—fire, ice, lightning, and earth.
Any weapon worked for him.
He had multiple AoE skills, finishing moves, and ultimate techniques.
Every single one of them was powerful.
Thus, Yoo Cheol-min had achieved both wealth and fame in Korea.
To the point that even if people didn't know the president's name, there wasn't a single citizen who didn't know his.
But lately, he was in a foul mood.
Because of someone who was setting consecutive S++ clear records on the 25th floor.
'Just who the hell is it?'
Broadcasts and social media were filled with nothing but that story.
Meanwhile, he himself was risking his life trying to clear the 66th floor.
"Fuck, it's just the 25th floor."
Was that even comparable in the first place?
What would they do if he stopped challenging the 66th floor?
A countdown to the collapse of the Korean tower would begin.
Right now, the tower stood in some backwater rural area of Gangwon Province rather than a major city, so the damage was relatively contained—but what if the next tower appeared near a metropolitan area?
At present, there wasn't a single player in South Korea who could replace him.
There was one other player in the early 60s, but she was only at Trait Enhancement Stage 2.
Yoo Cheol-min picked up his wineglass and walked toward the apartment window.
A wide-open view and the Han River flowing leisurely below.
He lived in a 100-pyeong penthouse apartment.
It had been provided by the government, but now that he thought about it, it didn't quite satisfy him.
He did receive the highest salary possible, but—
'This is it?'
China, for one, had been persistently approaching him through brokers.
An annual salary of 1 billion yuan—1.8 trillion won.
A grand estate with staff, a bulletproof car and a private jet, and on par with a head of state.
And Japan?
An annual salary of 20 billion yen, a luxury villa, ten maids assigned to cater to his every whim… the promise of ultimate treatment and indulgence.
He could go to either country.
Even so, they should be grateful he'd stayed in Korea.
As always, all attention should continue to be focused on him.
Broadcasts and the media should have been praising his devotion to his homeland and people every single day.
Not talking about some 25th-floor S++ clear record.
'Should I just switch nationalities outright?'
Especially when the 66th-floor challenge was already such a burden.
It was an extremely difficult section.
One attempt left him mentally shattered, needing three days of rest afterward.
The 60s floors marked the beginning of the undead zones.
On the 66th floor, creatures called Specters appeared.
Ghostly forms that made your blood run cold just by looking at them—immune to physical attacks, affected only by elemental damage.
Thinking of them as ordinary undead from common fiction would be a huge mistake.
You only understood how horrific the demonic energy was if you'd experienced it yourself.
'How the hell did that American player kill these things?'
Even with accessories and elixirs that resisted dark aura, and tower-reward weapons with light attributes, he failed every time.
The fact that he hadn't died was a blessing in itself.
Only because he could declare mission abandonment in time.
'Honestly… I don't think it's possible.'
This was a major reason he was considering changing nationality.
He wanted to give up.
It felt like he'd hit an insurmountable wall.
At this rate, the 66th floor was impossible.
He wanted to declare withdrawal and park himself in the 60s—but would people just accept that?
When things are going well, people are friendly. Slip once, and they swarm like wild dogs tearing you apart.
If only he could get just one more Trait Enhancement Rune.
But those runes had abysmally low drop rates and were nearly impossible to obtain.
He himself had monopolized them early in his elite contract days, which was how he'd reached Stage 4 enhancement.
'If I do switch nationalities…'
China or Japan.
In China, he'd only need to challenge the 59th floor.
In Japan, the 57th.
He could practically clear them while playing around.
Just climb once every six months under the condition that he prevented tower collapse.
"Hmm…"
It was sounding more tempting by the minute.
Instead of just thinking about it—why not act?
'It's not like there's any hope for the 66th floor anyway…'
Failing the clear would get him cursed at. Switching nationalities would get him cursed at.
No—at the very least, he'd be welcomed in the country he defected to.
If he went to Japan or China, took it easy, and received overwhelming support, wouldn't things be better than now?
'I should push this forward.'
Make China and Japan compete against each other, slowly and leisurely raising his own value.
The naturalization of Korea's top player.
The world would be turned upside down.
"Heh heh heh… sounds fun."
People would realize it too late.
The value of Player Yoo Cheol-min.
His importance.
His irreplaceability.
Regret it. Obsess over it. And rot away while you're at it.