A throb.
The hangover arrived with a vengeance, each pulse of blood a hammer against his skull.
Ugh.
Min-jun pressed his fingers to his temples and swung his legs out of bed. A desperate, burning thirst sent him to the refrigerator, where he guzzled a full liter of ice water.
As the cold shock slid down his throat, the fog in his mind began to recede.
Haaah.
Okay, maybe he’d live.
The spicy ramen from last night could wait. He had more pressing matters to attend to.
First, he had to edit and upload the footage from his 50th-floor clear yesterday before someone else beat him to it.
He hadn’t seen another player since the 20th floor, so the odds of that were slim.
Still, you could never be too careful.
Click.
Min-jun booted up his computer, intending to find some music to edit his ClipNuri video to.
But…
“Huh?”
A Viewtuber he followed was broadcasting live.
The title was aggressive—The Tower of Judgment becomes a reality!—but clickbait was standard in the industry. What wasn't standard was the viewer count: over 300,000 people watching live.
Something big had happened.
Min-jun moved his mouse, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest for no reason he could name.
The moment he clicked the video, everything changed.
Click.
The streamer’s frantic voice flooded his speakers.
[“Whoa! Guys! That! Are you seeing this? Everyone is seeing this, right?”]
On his monitor, the Viewtuber gestured wildly at the scene behind him. A colossal tower filled the screen, a ridiculous, impossible structure piercing the clouds.
It was a tower in the middle of Seoul.
A sight he knew all too well.
[“Someone in chat—User MelonmatSubak—just said this is from a game called [Tower of Judgment] that came out eleven years ago. Can you believe this? Huh? Wait!”]
The Viewtuber raised a hand, and at the same moment, the sky on the screen began to bleed into a deep, ominous red.
It wasn't a sunset. Not at ten in the morning.
No.
Min-jun swallowed hard.
He knew what this was. It was the omen that appeared when he first launched [Tower of Judgment].
[The first update of the reboot version of ‘Tower of Judgment’ has been completed.]
The boundary between game and reality was dissolving.
As he watched it happen on his screen, a translucent blue window flickered into existence right before his eyes.
It’s started.
[All players; conquer the next level of the tower within 90 days.]
The world humanity had known was coming to an end.
[If you fail, humanity will perish.]
Just like that, the game had become reality.
His thoughts scrambled, his mind struggling to process the impossible, but Min-jun forced himself to focus.
Phew. Phew. Phew.
He steadied his breathing, cooling the frantic heat in his head.
If [Tower of Judgment] was real, then this was no time to hesitate.
I need to hurry.
Min-jun shot up from his chair. It clattered to the floor behind him, but he didn't have time to care.
He had to go.
Outside.
To be precise, he had to go where he could get that item.
Min-jun burst out of his apartment, gasping for breath as he clattered down the stairs.
And yet…
He felt no pressure, no fear of the difficulty ahead. Only a raw, thrilling anticipation.
A grin touched his lips. He was finally running towards something, not just on a treadmill going nowhere.
He ran for several minutes, soon reaching the city center, which had devolved into a panicked mob.
“W-what’s the fastest train to Busan?”
“Screw Busan! I’m getting out of Daehan! Anywhere! I’ll go abroad!”
“The tower appeared everywhere in the world. Where are you gonna run?”
“Then where do we go?”
“Anywhere but Seoul! Haven’t you seen the movies? I’m not sticking around here to die!”
Most people were scrambling to escape.
Their fear was natural. It was the instinct of any living thing to flee the unknown. But in every crisis, there was an opportunity.
This was not a time to run. It was a time to push forward.
On the Korean server, this place was designated as one of the starting locations [Outside the Tower].
There were thirty such spots scattered across South Daehan.
He’d chosen this one for a simple reason: it was the closest.
Min-jun peered down into the sunken plaza of the basement area and took the escalator down.
[Entering the event area.]
The basement was eerily quiet. With a tower tearing a hole in the sky and an apocalyptic message echoing in their minds, it was no surprise the shops were deserted.
There were, however, a few people sitting around numbly, eating hamburgers.
Of course.
They weren't the only ones here.
As expected.
Min-jun’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the dozens of people scattered around the central fountain.
He knew without asking that they were all here for the same reason. They had played the game, at least the early stages.
They eyed each other in a tense, predatory silence.
Right, this was how it would be.
Items would spawn here soon, but only a handful. Maybe five, total.
And there were over twenty people waiting.
Low supply, high demand.
The math was simple. Most of them were leaving empty-handed.
It was then that a voice called out from behind him.
“You’re Park Min-jun, right?”
He recognized that voice.
When Min-jun turned, he saw a man around 180 cm tall with bleached yellow hair.
Lee Jong-soo.
To see that bastard here of all places.
“Haha! It is you! Park Min-jun! Look at you, actually getting up from your computer for once.”
Lee Jong-soo approached him with a smug grin.
He was a partnered streamer—a BJ—on Dalkom TV, with half a million subscribers on ClipNuri and a significant Eoljjanggeuraem following. One of those so-called handsome, popular types.
He was also the CEO of the company Min-jun was contracted to.
“Shouldn’t you be broadcasting right now?” Min-jun asked, his voice flat.
“Ah, who could even think about broadcasting in a situation like this?” Lee Jong-soo shrugged.
“What situation is that?”
“Don’t play dumb. You were a hardcore player. Tell me what you know. How many floors did you clear? Come on, we’re colleagues, in the same business. Let’s stick together.”
Colleagues?
Did he really just say colleagues?
The word struck Min-jun like a hammer. He remembered all too clearly what this piece of trash had said and done.
The company Lee Jong-soo founded had lured in streamers with predatory contracts, promising editors and content fees that never materialized. The contracts skimmed sixty percent of all revenue, meaning the harder you worked, the deeper in debt you fell.
There were protests, but nothing came of it. Lee Jong-soo had one of Daehan’s most famous law firms in his pocket. The contracts were airtight; legally, it was all consensual. In reality, the streamers were slaves, many ending their careers in tears.
Colleagues.
The friends who had started with him, one by one, had all been forced to quit.
“You’re good at games. I know your mukbangs do well, too. How about I make the terms of your contract a little better, hmm?” Lee Jong-soo patted Min-jun’s shoulder.
Disgusting. Every word was worthless.
“Lee Jong-soo.”
“Hey, hey. You can’t just call the company CEO by his name.”
“Ah, right. You’re the CEO, aren’t you?”
He’d learned it over and over again in this life. Only the wicked prospered. And if you didn't want to become their victim, you had to become even more vicious, more cruel.
“If you’re the CEO, then act like one. Then maybe I’ll call you CEO.”
“What?” Lee Jong-soo’s smile vanished.
“Don’t you remember?” Min-jun continued, his voice low and cold. “When you tried to hand your business card to that female BJ? And when she refused, you kicked her and screamed until she was crying on the floor?”
It was a pity only Min-jun had been there to see it. He should have recorded it.
“And that wasn’t all, was it? You stalked her, found her address. The police had to be called. You’re a real piece of work. If I were you, I’d have died of shame.”
“Y-You… Are you insane?! I can have you blacklisted! You’ll never work as a BJ again!”
Lee Jong-soo grabbed Min-jun by the collar.
“Sorry, but I retired yesterday.”
“And…”
“Don’t be rude, you little bastard. I’m older than you.”
Kwang!
Min-jun slammed his forehead into Lee Jong-soo’s face.
“Kuak!”
Lee Jong-soo stumbled back, blood and a broken tooth spilling from his mouth.
So satisfying.
Watching that tooth fly, it felt like a knot that had been tightening in his chest for a decade had finally come loose.
Ugh.
Min-jun winced, rubbing his own forehead, but the pain was fleeting.
It’s time.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when it happened.
Kukukuku!
The water in the fountain began to churn violently, bubbling as if boiling. The onlookers stared, wondering why the placid fixture was suddenly shaking.
Puak!
A four-meter-tall tree erupted from the center of the fountain with a sickening tear.
Finally. It’s here.
“Ohh!”
“The mangrove!”
“I knew it! I was right to wait here!”
The people who had been waiting broke their silence.
[The ‘Tamyog-ui Namu’ appears.]
[One fruit can be consumed by one person.]
It was one of the few unique skills that could be obtained before even entering the Tower of Judgment.
Min-jun’s eyes fixed on the fruit hanging from the tree’s branches. They were perfectly ripe, and each one granted a permanent boost to strength, agility, stamina, and magic.
They were undeniably good items.
The problem…
Was the number.
There are only four.
Twenty-four people were waiting. A six-to-one competition ratio.
Min-jun bit his lip.
This is going to get ugly.
An early stat boost like this was an advantage you couldn’t afford to pass up.
“M-Mine!”
“Don’t make me laugh! It’s mine!”
“Kuaaak!”
Everyone surged toward the tree at once. They had to get a fruit, no matter what.
In an instant, the underground plaza devolved into chaos, a desperate scramble of bodies climbing over one another to reach the branches.
“D-damn it! I’m too late!” Lee Jong-soo cursed, holding his bleeding mouth.
He was right. He’d been caught completely off guard.
Step.
“E-enough!”
Someone had already plucked a fruit and shoved it in their mouth. Soon, the rest would be gone.
“Cut one in half! We can share! It’s a win-win!” Lee Jong-soo yelled at him, but Min-jun didn't answer. He had no reason to.
Besides, this wasn’t what he was aiming for.
Not yet.
Only casual players would go for the fruit. The ones who had only dabbled in the game would see it as the ultimate prize.
But the veterans, the ones who’d explored every sadistic corner of the game, knew there was more.
The reason was simple.
The real reward was yet to come.
Finally, the last of the four fruits disappeared.
The moment it was consumed…
Kiiik.
The tree let out a piercing shriek.
With the fruit gone, the successful and unsuccessful alike began to flee in a panic.
“R-right! It was dangerous if you took all the fruit!”
“Damn it! It’s been so long, I forgot!”
“Ugh, ahhh! Get out of here! I died on this part fifty times!”
Those who understood the gravity of the situation scrambled to escape. They had to withdraw now.
There was no way a level-one player with no weapon could defeat this thing.
“Um…” Lee Jong-soo staggered to his feet.
“Giving up?” Min-jun asked.
“O-of course! Anyone who’s played knows you get killed if you stick around!”
“Is that so? That’s a shame. The real reward for this event only appears after all the fruit has been eaten.”
Lee Jong-soo, who had been backing away, froze.
“Are you telling the truth?”
“If I were lying, would I still be standing here?”
Lee Jong-soo’s head snapped back around.
He was right. Min-jun hadn’t even bothered with the fruit. Was this why? If there was a bigger prize, it would explain everything.
He’s a hardcore player. There’s no way he’s lying.
The potential danger was immense, but the chance was too good to pass up.
“Assuming you’re right, what do we do?”
“We draw its attention,” Min-jun said, pointing at the tree. “If we go one at a time, we’ll be easy targets. We need to approach from opposite sides.”
“You mean split its focus.”
“Exactly.”
The others had already fled. Only the two of them remained in the basement.
“Keep in mind, if either of us hesitates for a second, we’re both dead.” Min-jun lowered his stance and began circling to the right.
“Don’t worry. I played this game a few times myself,” Lee Jong-soo said, moving to the left. The two of them crouched, waiting.
At that moment…
“Now!” Min-jun shouted.
Instantly, the tree’s branches whipped toward him.
But Lee Jong-soo didn’t move. A triumphant grin spread across his bloody mouth, revealing his white teeth.
Fucking idiot. You really think I’d listen to you? You be the bait. I’ll grab the real prize.
Tak!
He broke from his position and sprinted toward the base of the tree.
At that, Min-jun thought…
Good. The bastard hasn’t changed a bit.
If he’d done anything out of character, it would have complicated things.
Then, with a roar…
Kwang!
In an instant, a massive tree trunk, hidden beneath the fountain’s floor, shot upwards.