The next day, all Earthling players were summoned. Jo Seohui gathered them and gave them a mission.

“...Does this even make sense?”

Someone voiced a complaint. They found the mission to be unfair.

"That guy’s just going to win anyway." "We’re just here as punching bags."

The gazes of the people turned to me. But unlike yesterday, there weren’t any unpleasant glares.

"If you don’t like it, don’t do it. You don’t have to."

At a glance, it might seem like Jo Seohui was giving them a choice.

"It’s only your loss. I lose nothing. If you want to stay put and get killed when you go up, be my guest."

If you don’t want to die, you have to struggle. As a senior player, Jo Seohui was all too familiar with the harsh reality of the Tower.

"Only the first place gets rewards, so stop whining. I’m not your mom. I’m not here to baby you."

Jo Seohui’s words were blunt, leaving no room for argument.

The people fell silent. The hall quieted down.

"Don’t worry too much. You won’t die. Once your vitality reaches 1, you’ll just be eliminated and forcibly returned here."

I didn’t know how she’d done it. Apparently, she used the Soul System to create a no-death field. It seemed limited to missions, but it was impressive.

"A week. Yesterday was a freebie, so you have six days left."

A tournament mission. First place received two points, and second and third each received one point.

"This is the best I can do. So manage on your own. Keep whining, and I might just kill you myself."

A voice dripping with threat. A player who had been about to protest clamped their mouth shut.

Even those who couldn’t understand gentle words fell to their knees in the face of Jo Seohui’s raw killing intent.

They may not have realized it, but Jo Seohui was looking out for us in her own way.

‘My Hatchling Breath is powerful enough, so ascenders above the 50th floor must be even stronger.’

It’s crucial not to forget that she’s a monster capable of wiping out thousands of players with a mere flick of her finger. This fact should be drilled into my mind and revisited regularly.

‘…And this woman shows interest in me…?’

A woman’s interest. Honestly, I was used to it. This kind of situation wasn’t new.

Back then, I’d brushed it off. I’d worried about becoming famous later and getting tripped up by rumors of womanizing. I’d been careful about that since high school.

Though my athletic career had ended due to an accident, making it all pointless in the end.

‘This is the first time I’m purposefully trying to take advantage of it.’

She’s given me artifacts, created missions to earn points. I’ve received quite a lot in many ways.

The things I gained on the first floor would be a great help to my survival. With that thought, the overwhelming gifts felt more welcome.

‘A mission crafted just for me. I should make the most of it.’

I had no intention of going easy. I’d squeeze out those twelve points no matter what.

After the first day, the administrators gathered together.

“What’s the sudden reason for calling us here?”

Dokgo Un, an administrator from Murim, looked at Blinky and asked.

“It’s about the final test on the first floor.”

“…The final test?”

Dokgo Un clicked his tongue, as if he’d expected this.

“Has the master of the floor awakened?”

“Nope. Still asleep.”

Typically, the test is under the authority of the floor’s master. It’s conducted under their supervision.

If the master adds a test, it means more struggle. If they omit a test, it makes ascending easier.

Administrators assigned to each floor act as deputies for the floor master, giving up on ascending as an ascender to train successors…

“Are you saying you’re adding a test? And the floor master isn’t even awake?”

“Yes. It just seemed a bit too quiet.”

Blinky was the administrator with the most authority granted by the master of the first floor. Adding a small test wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t impossible either.

‘Why bother?’

Still, no one voiced the question. Blinky pulling stunts on a whim wasn’t a new thing. They were used to it.

“What kind of test?”

“I was thinking of making use of the three-player teams we’ve put together. It would help prepare them for the second floor, wouldn’t it?”

Dokgo Un nodded.

‘Indeed, things have been odd lately.’

It’s as if the tests had lost their purpose.

‘Even if the master of the floor is in a deep sleep…’

If you’re forcing people to form teams at the risk of their lives, it’s only fitting they’d have to use that team for a test. Whatever that may entail.

But recently, on the first floor, teams had become meaningless.

‘They say they’re being trained by senior ascenders for a week and then just moving up.’

Looking back to Dokgo Un’s time, it was an absurd way of handling things. Utterly ridiculous.

Dokgo Un was clueless. He had no idea it was all Jo Seohui’s doing.

Only Blinky knew that Jo Seohui and her sister were freeloading off the floor master to interfere with the test.

‘What are they thinking?’

So Jo Seohui was wary of Blinky’s intentions, resisting in her own way so as not to play into Blinky’s hands.

But Blinky could see right through Jo Seohui’s mind. Not through mind-reading or anything like that, but simply because Jo Seohui’s actions were too predictable.

‘All of this is within my grasp.’

Jo Seohui wasn’t the only one hoping the floor master would stay asleep. Blinky, too, wished the master would remain in eternal slumber.

There was a busy undercurrent of caution, lest a careless move wake him.

But seeing Jo Seohui playing into her hands, risking her life in the process, how could she not find it endearing?

‘After all, to enjoy the game, a certain advantage is necessary!’

Secretly, she slipped in bonuses, ensuring the True Dragon wouldn’t notice. Her generosity would make his game all the more delightful.

Though she gave freely, she expected nothing in return from the Error Player.

‘Because we’re dragons who love amusement!’

Despite being called a "mission," it played out rather one-sidedly. In other words, I won first place each time.

“…This doesn’t make sense.” “Wasn’t everyone’s stats normalized to ten in the tutorial? Then why is the Error Player still so fast!” “The administrator gave him ten points. That’s why he’s stronger.”

On the third day, complaints about unfairness began to surface.

“The Tower of Struggle is inherently unfair.”

A single phrase crushed their complaints.

“Are you going to beg for special treatment once you reach the upper floors? Are you going to whine that Midworlders have mana lords and circles and demand the Murim folks break their dantian for a fair fight?”

Jo Seohui clicked her tongue as she spoke.

“The only thing you can enjoy equally in the Tower of Struggle is the chance to fail. Other than that, nothing’s fair, so just shut up.”

On the fourth day, a new mission was announced.

“A simple one! It’s a 3-on-3 team battle!”

I already knew this from what Jo Seohui had told me on the first day, but the other players didn’t.

There was an uproar.

“Do we have to die again?” “Don’t worry too much. I’ll protect you.”

Over three days, some players had grown close. Having met in the hellish Tower of Struggle, with only each other to rely on, they’d naturally grown close quickly.

Especially in male-female relationships. You could see the unusual atmosphere among some at a glance.

The men grew more determined. Some were desperate to earn even one point. They had to give it their all to raise their chances in the final test.

I watched the second and third-place competition and took the reward for first place.

And on the fifth day, I met my teammates. The administrators had been blocking interaction, but now they finally allowed it.

Eun Seoryeong from Jeomchang, now with a Shanks-like look. Baeksong from Hwasan.

“Have you been well, oh great warrior?”

Eun Seoryeong could no longer form a fist. Making a fist was a privilege reserved for those with both arms intact.

After a quick nod in greeting, Eun Seoryeong looked me over, admiringly.

“You seem much different.”

“…You can tell?”

“I may not be the best judge, but… yes, your energy is sharper.”

Curious, I asked,

“How would you compare to yourself?”

“Hmm…”

My current agility stat was around 33. I wondered how it compared to a Murim warrior who had reached the peak level.

“Are you hiding your true strength?”

“…”

Maintaining my black dragon persona, Eun Seoryeong hinted at the truth with an appropriate flourish.

“Reaching the peak has raised my strength, agility, and endurance stats to 50.”

A dizzying number.

“And I’ve mastered the Cheongmyeong Technique and begun the Yuseong Technique.”

This roughly matched what Jo Seohui had told me during the tournament mission.

‘Damn. Does this even make sense?’

Earthlings have nothing. Meanwhile, people from other dimensions not only possess their own powers but can also continue to grow.

The important thing here wasn’t the stats. Stats were secondary.

The real problem was the skills they acquired.

‘The more they train their techniques, the stronger their skills become…’

Mastering Cheongmyeong. In other words, reaching Lv.10. Beginning the Yuseong Technique, which means acquiring Yuseong Technique Lv.1.

When they "break through walls," it includes an absurd upgrade.

‘No wonder Earthlings end up stabbing each other in the back.’

It’s not that I’m defending Earthlings just because I’m one of them.

‘Isn’t it the Tower of Struggle’s fault for making it inevitable for Earthlings to betray each other?’

If a parasite kills its host, is it the parasite’s fault? Or is it the fault of the creator who made the parasite that way?

No one would claim it’s the parasite’s sin. Likewise,

Earthlings aren’t at fault. I’m not a sinner, either.

“How’s it going with your training, Baeksong? Any progress?”

Baeksong shook his head. It seemed breaking through the wall was harder than expected.

“Training is frustrating, isn’t it?”

Eun Seoryeong murmured knowingly, with a look reminiscent of the Skill Competition days.

“Practical experience is the best. It sharpens your instincts for survival.”

“…”

“Baeksong has talent. He’ll reach the top in no time.”

Then, someone approached, trudging forward.

“Heh heh, Eun Seoryeong.”

A bulky man approached Eun Seoryeong, acting overly familiar.

“…Madokwang, the Flashing Blade Demon.”

Eun Seoryeong didn’t seem particularly pleased to see him. She looked at him as if facing an unwanted acquaintance.

“You heard the news, right? To advance to the second floor, you need to defeat at least one team.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

“Then you know you can choose your opposing team?”

Madokwang ran his tongue over his lips as he looked Eun Seoryeong up and down. His gaze lingered on her chest.

It wasn’t sneaky but openly leering.

“…”

Eun Seoryeong’s expression soured, but the man didn’t care.

“The Flashing Blade Princess, Eun Seoryeong. It’s been a while since I’ve had a worthy opponent.”

“…”

“If you want to live, just say the word. Then I won’t target your team.”

His gaze fell on me, a sneer playing at his lips.

“Just do me one favor. It’s not too hard for someone your age, so don’t worry. Kehahakha!”

With that, Madokwang gave Eun Seoryeong a few taps on the shoulder and walked past.

I watched him leave and asked her,

“Do you know him?”

“No. He’s someone I met in the Tower of Struggle.”

“…”

“He’s been like that since the first day we met. Maybe he has a death wish.”