Hartmann was dreaming.
Was it because his time to die was near?
His past passed by like a lantern reel.
Born into a fallen baron's family, he entered the Imperial Capital Knight Academy, had his talent recognized, graduated, enlisted in the army, distinguished himself in war, and eventually caught the eye of Marquis Lexington, the commander of the imperial army—becoming the marquis family's son-in-law.
In his own way, he had been happy.
After that, it was hell—but still.
He lost his precious son, Rian Hartmann.
He didn't know whether the boy was dead or alive.
If the child had simply died, perhaps it wouldn't have hurt this much.
Judging from the circumstances, it had been an abduction or kidnapping.
When his son disappeared, the nanny and a stablehand servant vanished with him.
Hartmann searched for the two of them by every possible means.
In the end, they were found as cold corpses in the slums of the imperial capital.
And the investigation ended there.
This was clearly a conspiracy.
Someone had deliberately orchestrated it.
The most suspicious party?
Naturally, Duke Roland's house—the leader of the aristocratic faction.
The rival of Marquis Lexington's imperial faction.
But suspicion alone was not enough.
Because of that, his wife also departed for a faraway place.
The words she left as she lay dying—
Find our son Rian, no matter what.
Of course, Hartmann swore that he would.
But the tragedy did not end there.
Even his father-in-law, Duke Lexington, died from the shock of losing both his daughter and grandson.
Even so, Hartmann did not give up.
He built up his strength.
Expanded his influence.
And on that foundation, he searched for his son.
Then one day—
Another tragedy occurred.
With his own hands, he killed his son.
The son he had longed to see so desperately that it haunted his dreams.
Hartmann went mad.
Consumed by a heart demon, he became a sword fiend.
He no longer knew why he made that decision, but he stormed Duke Roland's estate alone.
It was you, wasn't it?
You raised my son as an assassin and sent him to me!
He killed everyone he encountered.
The retainers, the knights, even the collateral bloodlines of the Roland family.
Then he was subdued.
As his body and mind weakened, sinking ever deeper into the heart demon.
Hartmann was bound with restraining devices and exiled to Alto Island.
A prison from which one could never escape.
Just as the lantern reel was about to end—
A voice rang out, like an illusion.
"Dad?"
Hartmann lifted his head and looked straight ahead.
Ten people were standing before him.
Who were they?
Then one of them caught his eye and burned itself into his vision.
"Son?"
His beloved Rian Hartmann?
There was no doubt.
How could he ever forget that face?
The son he had killed with his own hands.
But then—why was his son here?
Ah! An illusion.
If not, then—
"I-is this heaven? No… it must be hell."
"It's neither heaven nor hell."
Then what?
"It's the tower. Uh, y-you're in the tower."
He didn't understand, but one thing was certain—this was the afterlife.
"Rian… do you recognize me?"
"…Honestly, I'm not sure."
"I see. I-it's shameless of me, but c-could I hold you just once—"
At that moment—
Whoosh!
A pitch-black crescent-shaped force rose from an old man's palm and—
Tsit!
Spinning ferociously, it flew out and severed every chain and restraint binding Hartmann.
As the shackles constricting him vanished—
Stagger!
Hartmann was about to collapse onto the floor.
Grab!
Kosak quickly caught him and supported him.
"Careful."
Ah—
He could feel his son's warmth.
It was warm.
As if all the wounds in his heart were being healed.
Even if this wasn't the living world, he had fulfilled his wish in the afterlife.
Hartmann had no more regrets.
Tears streamed down Juhyeok's face.
They poured like a waterfall.
And it wasn't just him.
Everyone was crying.
"Khmm… Is it windy? Why is there dust in my eyes…?"
Even the Mad Demon, the most vicious being of the martial world.
"Ghk…"
"Snff… ghk…"
"Waaah…"
Gobang, Bardin, and Veronica too.
"Hooe…"
"Whiiine…"
Rajiks and the Blood Wolf as well.
Even the vampire Jepet—summoned not long ago and not yet close to the others—secretly wiped away tears.
"Hah…"
Gyeon Dallae too.
"This girl's past is nothing at all. No matter how relative sorrow may be, compared to Sir Kosak's pain, it is but a drop in the ocean."
What must Kosak be feeling right now?
Juhyeok couldn't even begin to imagine it.
Kosak and Hartmann.
The two exchanged no words.
It was understandable.
What could possibly be said in a situation like this?
"Mr. Hartmann doesn't look to be in good condition. Is there any way? Healing, or a healing potion, perhaps?"
The Mad Demon slowly shook his head.
"His vitality and core energy are damaged. He won't last long. And he's been consumed by a heart demon for far too long. Unless there's a miracle elixir, it's strange he's even alive at all."
"Then…?"
"We must prepare our hearts."
"..."
Time passed.
What about mission completion?
Yet no one spoke about clearing the floor.
An S+++ clear record?
What did something like that even matter?
"Um… it seems Mr. Hartmann doesn't realize this place is the tower."
"That's probably so. It differs from person to person."
In contrast, Gyeon Dallae's master, Haeryeong, had been aware of the tower.
Perhaps that was only natural.
After all, she had stood at the very edge of ascension.
"Is there no way to free his soul from the tower?"
"Heh… shameful as it is, this old man doesn't know either."
There had to be a way.
There was precedent.
Gyeon Dallae's master, the Thousand-Year Fox Haeryeong.
Though she had achieved it through self-ascension, she was freed nonetheless.
There must be a way.
He would find it—no matter what.
The thought that there were 146 copies of Hartmann's soul across the world's 146 towers was unbearably tragic.
It might be fine now—but what if players cleared them later?
That was absolutely unacceptable.
And then—
Hartmann's eyes slowly began to close.
As Hartmann stroked Kosak's face, his hand finally fell limp.
And then—
Ding!
[All missions on the 77th floor have been completed.]
[Reward: 77 kg of magic stones / Multinational Tower Access Ticket.]
However—
[You may challenge the 78th floor.]
[Exiting the Republic of Korea Black Tower.]
The S+++ clear announcement did not sound.
There hadn't been a duel, after all.
It didn't matter.
So what—were they supposed to make a father and son fight?
Bastards.
Giving out missions like this.
Spot!
Juhyeok and the summoned beings returned to the penthouse.
The clear was over, but no one spoke.
No one even knew what to say.
There was one person who hadn't shed a tear on the 77th floor.
The person involved himself—Kosak.
His emotions probably weren't even sorted out yet.
"Um, Summoner Bong."
"Yes?"
"I have a favor to ask."
"Ah—sure. Anything. I'll do whatever you ask."
"Later… could we enter the 77th floor again? I didn't get to have a proper conversation with that man…"
That was true.
If they entered the 77th floor again, they would see him again.
But reset.
With no memory of ever meeting Kosak.
Still, seeing him again was better than nothing.
If they kept meeting, maybe they could ease the resentment lodged in his heart.
"Of course. Let's go again tomorrow. Three times."
"Could we deal with Diamat first?"
"Diamat doesn't matter at all. Your feelings matter much more, Kosak."
"That's true. I also need some time to think."
"Ah!"
Then there was no helping it.
Kosak, his expression resolute, added as if he still had something to say.
"And… I want to go to the beach too."
"Of course! We should."
Why not?
They needed a change of mood anyway.
"And our Executive Bae must buy a bikini swimsuit."
"…Yes?"
"This is a serious issue."
"Hmm, would there even be one that fits?"
"The smaller, the better, wouldn't it be?"
"Well… that's true."
Tempting.
Smaller was better.
At that moment, Gyeon Dallae spoke up in a deliberately indignant voice.
"Sir Kosak!"
Uh-oh.
He was in trouble.
"That is truly disappointing. Why am I being excluded?"
"Yes?"
"I am an adult now as well. Are you saying Executive Bae may wear a bikini, but I may not?"
Princess…?
"Do you not know how magnificent a fairy's figure is? There is even the tale of the fairy and the woodcutter. On a moonlit night, the fairy sheds her garments and bathes in the pond, and the woodcutter hides and—"
Um.
He understood why Gyeon Dallae was acting like this, but—
"W-wait a moment!"
He cut her off and hurriedly changed the subject.
"Let's talk about something else."
"About what?"
"Well—for example, about tomorrow's missions on the 78th and 79th floors."
At that instant—
Kosak's eyes flashed.
In a chilling voice, he said,
"I think I know what kind of missions they'll be."
"You do?"
"My old workplace will appear."
"Ah!"
Kosak's guess was spot on.
The next day.
Early in the morning, Juhyeok climbed to the 78th floor.
[Entering the Republic of Korea Black Tower (NO.2), 78th Floor.]
The environment of the 78th floor—
It looked like a large farm.
Open grassland, and ahead, clusters of large and small houses.
"I knew it. From here on, just follow me."
Kosak headed toward the cluster of houses.
Juhyeok and the summoned beings followed.
Then—
Ding.
[78th Floor Basic Mission: Eliminate 26 Cruel Guild Low-Rank Assassins.]
[78th Floor Additional Optional Mission: Eliminate 7 Cruel Guild High-Rank Assassins.]
[78th Floor High-Difficulty Optional Mission: Eliminate Cruel Guild Elite Assassin Krook.]
[78th Floor Extreme-Difficulty Optional Mission: Eliminate Cruel Guild Guildmaster Jericho.]
The missions appeared.
Kosak's old workplace.
What looked like a farm was actually the headquarters of the Cruel Assassination Guild.
Just as expected.
Thinking about it, it was simple.
There was no way Kosak decided on assassination targets and acted alone.
Who gave assassins their missions?
The guildmaster.
At the time, Kosak had been SR rank.
In mage terms, about a 5-circle level.
And yet they ordered him to assassinate a Swordmaster?
"When I got there, it was a Swordmaster… How could I have imagined it was my father?"
Of course.
But those bastards must have known when they sent him.
They must have even identified the relationship between Kosak and Hartmann in advance.
A cleverly written script.
An intentional tragedy of kin-slaying—forcing a father to kill his son.
"I'll handle everything. Those immoral sons of bitches. I'll show them the fiery taste of the Juche Revolution."
Suddenly possessed by some kind of revolutionary drama?
"Great Leader Comrade, please remain seated."
Why am I the Great Leader?
"Comrades, same goes for you. Just sit back, watch the show, and enjoy the rice cakes."
"..."
Spot! Spapapap!
Kosak dashed off using Shadow Step.
The Mad Demon chuckled.
"Are you all just going to stand around?"
Then—
"Not a chance. We can't let him have all the fun."
Click!
Executive Bae disengaged the safety on her magic gun.
"A comrade's enemy is my enemy as well."
"I'll tear those assassin bastards limb from limb… except for the assassin."
"Light!"
"The power of darkness!"
"Ho-e!"
"Make sure you leave the guy called Guildmaster Jericho alive."
Bzzzzing!
Pajujuzujuk!
Executive Bae struck first.
Kwa-kwa-kwaang!
A large-caliber shell blew an entire farmhouse away.
The kill count shot up instantly.
Jericho looked like a kindly man.
On the surface, he was just an ordinary farmer.
People around him even called him Old Man Jericho.
Very few knew that he was the head of the Cruel Assassination Guild.
Jericho had been in the assassination business for sixty years now.
To keep this business running for so long, the most important thing was talent acquisition.
You had to secure a large number of decent assassins.
And that was the hardest part.
Given the nature of the business, it relied more on recruiting rookies than experienced veterans.
Usually, they were bought from outside.
Children under the age of ten, to be precise.
Buying children wasn't difficult.
If you went to slash-and-burn farming villages or slums, parents selling their children were everywhere.
But buying them wasn't the end.
It took an enormous amount of time and money to raise young children into usable assassins.
And did they all succeed?
Most died failing their very first kill.
Even those who managed to pass that hurdle got stuck at the limits of their talent.
Almost all of them never rose above the lower ranks.
Only a handful grew into upper-rank assassins, and top-tier elites were practically nonexistent.
That was how difficult the assassination business was.
'Come to think of it, I keep thinking about that kid.'
The one who entered the guild at age three, grew into an upper-rank assassin by his late teens, and was all but guaranteed to become an elite.
Upper-rank assassin Kosak.
'Blood can't lie.'
If his role hadn't already been decided, he might have become Jericho's successor.
In truth, Kosak hadn't been an assassin—he had been a target.
A tool to bring down the Empire's strongest swordsman.
And the tool had fulfilled its role perfectly and died.
Such a shame.
He had been a joy to raise.
Where would he ever find another like him?
As Jericho was drowning in regret—
Kwa-kwa-kwaang!
"Huk!"
A terrifying explosion shook the entire farm.
"W-what in the world is going on?"
He hurried to the window and looked outside.
"Gyaaaah!"
"Ghk!"
"Kuhk!"
Unidentified people.
Guild members—assassins—were being slaughtered by them.
"Who dares…!"
This was no ordinary attack.
A giant tearing people apart with his bare hands, a knight wielding a flail, a vampire-like creature biting out throats, a ghostly woman floating in midair, a woman firing a crossbow-like ranged weapon, and a beastman riding a dog while swinging a pickaxe.
The guild members were too busy trying to flee.
Lower-rank assassins died, then upper-rank assassins as well.
Even the guild's sole elite assassin, Krook, had his stealth exposed, a yellow paper talisman slapped onto his forehead, and was subdued helplessly.
Where in the world had these monsters come from?
What should he do?
Run, or fight?
He needed to decide quickly, but this was the first time the headquarters itself had been attacked.
Jericho couldn't help but panic.
"I'll head outside first—"
At that moment—
He froze.
Jericho couldn't move.
Someone was sitting inside the room.
Right there, on the bed.
He turned his head.
"W-who are you…?"
White hair, white beard.
An old man in unfamiliar attire.
"Sit quietly. Don't even think about running."
"…What?"
He was startled inside, but his expression remained calm.
Jericho reached for the dagger hidden up his sleeve.
He activated the poisoned needle installed in the tip of his shoe, and prepared a smoke bomb.
But—
Sssss—
Killing intent filled the room.
He couldn't move an inch, like a mosquito caught in a spider's web.
"If you act up, you'll shit blood. Don't believe me? Go ahead and try."
Gulp.
Jericho swallowed dryly.
The most important virtue of an assassin—
Assess the opponent in front of you.
Whether they were someone he could handle, or someone he had to avoid.
But the old man before him made such judgment impossible.
Nothing came to mind at all.
Just then—
Srrrk!
Another person appeared in the room.
"Huh? Old man, when did you get here?"
"Wouldn't I be faster than you, no matter what I do?"
"No, I told you again and again. This bastard is my prey."
Jericho nearly fainted.
An utterly unexpected figure had appeared before him.
"Y-you… who are you?"
"Nice to see you, you fucking bastard!"
Kosak?
The real Kosak?
How?
'He definitely died.'
Could this be a fake?
No.
The face, and even that distinctive way of speaking.
There was no mistaking it.
He had raised him personally.
"K-Kosak? Y-you were alive?"
"Shut up, you dog bastard!"
"W-what?"
Kosak licked his blue-tinted dagger with his tongue and spoke.
"I'm going to take your head right now. Our Summoner Bong lost out on a badge on the 77th floor because of me. I gotta make up for it."
The Mad Demon shook his head slowly.
"There is plenty of time. Let us take it slow. We must learn who the true culprit is—the one who created this entire tragedy."
Kosak grinned.
"No need. When we go up to the 79th floor, the mission'll pop up on its own."
Fair enough.
The final floor was usually where things were resolved.
"Still, it's a linked mission. If this one confesses, won't the mission chain proceed properly?"
"…Is that so?"
"Leave it to me. I will bestow upon him agony so dreadful he has never experienced in his life—so much that he'll beg for death."
Kosak nodded.
The Mad Demon's abilities were reliable.
"Please do."
"Very well. You may look forward to it."
A short while later—
"Gyaaaaaaaaaah!!!"
The guildmaster of the Cruel Guild, Jericho, howled like a beast.
For a long, long time.
Kosak was more than satisfied.