Chapter 277

It seemed the 91st floor had been the real hurdle, as the 92nd and 93rd floors were surprisingly easy to clear in comparison. Thanks to this, Sa-yoon managed to clear up to the 94th floor using only one of the promised three days. He pressed forward with unstoppable momentum, dying and reviving twice before reaching the 98th floor a day later. It was a speed so remarkable that even the System was impressed.

It was in these moments that Sa-yoon truly felt the truth in the old saying, “even dog poop has its uses,” as his Immortal Evil attribute proved its worth. When he first received it, he had cursed the System to live a long and miserable life, but now that he was actually using its ability to revive instantly without any delay, he found it to be a skill with considerable merit. It was especially effective because it perfectly suited his reckless, all-or-nothing combat style.

The only drawback, if one could call it that, was that Han Geon-joo turned deathly pale every time he used it.

I guess I can’t use it too often, or the kid’s heart might give out.

Sa-yoon clicked his tongue as he watched Geon-joo, his face pale and serious, diligently inspecting the area on his neck where he had been fatally pierced moments before, even wiping it with a handkerchief.

“Pull yourself together, pretty boy. This isn’t the first or second time you’ve seen me die.”

He gently pushed away the younger man who was clinging to him like a piece of gum, but Geon-joo’s smooth brow just furrowed into a frown. For someone so young, he worried too much, always creasing his forehead.

“The fact that I’ve seen it more than once is the problem. How can you talk about it so casually?”

He has a point, I guess.

He responded with a shrug, which only earned him a deep sigh. The hand that uncapped a potion for him felt strangely irritated.

“Can’t you be a little more careful with your body?”

“It all gets healed when we return to the 0th floor anyway. And you can’t really die in the Tower. You must have died plenty of times when you were clearing it, too.”

“That was me dying alone. You died right in front of my eyes. How is that the same? I told you before, didn’t I? Don’t die in front of me. It feels really… awful to watch.”

His voice was stubborn, yielding no ground. Sa-yoon couldn’t understand why he was being so sensitive about dying in the immortal Tower. Geon-joo himself must have died hundreds of times climbing the floors when he first cleared it. It all felt so needlessly dramatic.

Still, isn’t it better to die when others are around than to die all by yourself?

Sa-yoon took the potion bottle and drank it down, then ran his hand through Geon-joo’s soft hair.

“Right. You must have been lonely.”

He said it with Geon-joo’s initial solo struggle in the Tower in mind, and he felt the other man’s shoulders tense up.

“…You make it impossible to say anything.”

Finally, a reply came back, the irritation in his voice now diluted. It was obvious that just this little bit of consideration had been enough to soothe his mood.

He’s acting cute.

He was a difficult yet simple man. He should have just picked one, but this capricious nature was just like his own.

“Is the lovey-dovey session over?”

Sensing their conversation was winding down, Lee Jaehee, who had been waiting patiently, inquired. There hadn’t been much to their ‘lovey-dovey session,’ but since they had kept him waiting for a while, Sa-yoon gave a rough nod. Jaehee immediately announced the start of the 99th-floor conquest. With Geon-joo’s scolding still fresh in his mind, Sa-yoon had a feeling this next battle would be unusually long. He was going to have to change his fighting style.

And his premonition was, without a single deviation, spot on.

Because Han Geon-joo reacted so poorly to his deaths, Sa-yoon had to devise an attack routine that stopped just short of dying, and he felt his attacks being delayed time and time again. He had to pull back when he should have charged in, making it impossible to get into the flow of the fight. And when Sa-yoon, the main attacker, couldn’t find his rhythm, they couldn’t seize control of the overall battle. It was only natural that the clear time dragged on.

In the end, they had to pour the entirety of their last day into the fight, barely managing to succeed in conquering the 100th floor.

It really took a long time.

Returning to the 0th floor covered in blood, Sa-yoon immediately began to review the previous battle without rest. Even considering it was the 99th and 100th floors, he hadn’t expected to spend nearly a full twenty-four hours fighting through just two stages. The problem, he concluded, was that by not dying at the moments he should have, he had instead created situations where all three of them were repeatedly pushed to the brink of death. Another mistake was the way they kept snatching the offensive from one another—if one of them was in danger, another would jump in to save them, breaking the flow.

Realizing the issues, Sa-yoon flopped onto his back.

“Lots to fix.”

It wasn’t easy to abandon a lifetime’s worth of combat habits, a style built around the willingness to die at a moment’s notice.

If they had been just a little slower, if the difficulty of the 100th floor had been just a little higher, they would have broken their three-day promise. He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought, and a handkerchief touched his damp forehead. Lee Jaehee would be tending to his summons, so it was obvious who was taking care of him.

He grabbed the hand on his face and moved it away, revealing Han Geon-joo’s own sweat-drenched face. Unlike the day before, when he had been as stiff as a board, his expression was now much more agreeable.

I can see right through you.

When did this once-unreadable bastard become so transparent?

“Are you satisfied now, pretty boy? You whined so much, so I didn’t die.”

He murmured lightly with a hint of laughter, and the handkerchief was once again placed over his eyes. Whether it was wiping away sweat or blood, he wasn’t sure, but the hand shielding his eyes from the light felt comfortable. It felt safe.

“I asked if you were satisfied. Why aren’t you answering?”

He asked from his lying position, savoring the languor. A small laugh escaped from above him. It was faint, mixed with a breath, but Sa-yoon, who was acutely attuned to everything about Han Geon-joo, could clearly perceive it.

“I’m satisfied.”

The lighthearted reply was pleasant to hear, as if his mind was completely at ease. Thinking that was that, he began to regulate his breathing, but then he felt a hand gently stroking his face over the handkerchief. The hand traced his eyebrow, then slowly swept down to his eyelashes and across the shadows under his eyes before moving away. It felt like the touch of someone who wanted to commit every detail of his face to memory through their fingertips.

“I feel strangely good right now, do you know why?”

“How would I know how you feel? I don’t even know how I feel myself.”

The question was so out of the blue that he answered in disbelief. The fingertips traced down his cheekbone.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I just like it when you do things for my sake.”

“That’s a funny way of putting it. When have I ever not done things for you?”

“I don’t mean materially. I mean listening to my requests.”

“…?”

“I’m saying I like situations where it’s obvious you have a weakness for me. It feels like I’m being proven right every time.”

With the clarified meaning, Han Geon-joo’s hand caressed his earlobe. Sa-yoon removed the handkerchief and met the gaze of the man looking down at him. He found the situation utterly bizarre; he hated it when his weakness for Geon-joo was exposed, yet the very person who was that weakness was saying he liked it.

It’s because he’s so carefree.

“Change your way of thinking, pretty boy. Nothing good will come from revealing that I’m weak to you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have a lot of enemies. And those bastards will all start targeting you.”

“Are you going to let them?”

“Am I crazy? I’ll stop them at my level, but things can happen when my guard is down, like with Scorpion this time. What’s so good about wanting to go through that again and again?”

“I’m fine with it. Let’s just call it the price for being by your side.”

“‘Fine with it,’ my ass.”

Even if Han Geon-joo was fine with it, he wasn’t. There was no situation more unpleasant or infuriating than Geon-joo disappearing from his sight, being somewhere he didn’t know. The feeling of having something in his grasp stolen was filthy enough; he couldn’t imagine how it would feel to have something he had acknowledged as completely his be taken away. He didn’t even want to imagine it, and his language grew coarse. Geon-joo stared at him for a long moment, then extended a hand to help him up. Sa-yoon didn’t refuse, taking his hand to pull himself to his feet.

“You know, you have a tendency to see me as too weak. I’m an S-Rank too, and I know how to use my exclusive skills properly. Most people couldn’t even scratch me.”

“You’re weaker than me.”

“…That’s because it’s you.”

“When I throw you, you still fly like a piece of paper.”

“…I said, that’s because it’s you.”

“You look like you’d be gone in one bite.”

“No, I—”

Just as Han Geon-joo, with an aggrieved expression, was about to say more, Rai came bounding over and leaped into Sa-yoon’s arms. On the 100th floor, his white fur had been matted and stained red with blood, but now it was fluffy again, clearly having been well-cared-for by Lee Jaehee.

Heh, heh!

Sa-yoon stroked the furry beast as it panted, its tongue lolling out. He surreptitiously used his Genius’s Eye and saw that a few of its skills had leveled up. It seemed the Fated Tower wasn’t just a golden opportunity for the Awakeners. Seeing the status “Please pet me” at the very bottom of its status window, he laughed and ruffled the beast’s fur affectionately. From the side, Han Geon-joo, who had been standing there blankly, clicked his tongue.

“Can’t it just be the two of us after we leave the Gate?”

“Why?”

“There are too many interruptions.”

What interruptions? Just as he was about to retort, a system window popped up before him.

[Settlement, which was delayed due to an abnormal clear speed, will now begin.]

It was the Tower clear notification he had been waiting for.

With a pop, fireworks exploded above the heads of Sa-yoon, Geon-joo, and Jaehee.

[Congratulations! You have successfully conquered the ‘Fated Tower’! As a clear reward, you are granted the title ‘Tower Conqueror.’] 

[‘The God of Temperance Who Pursues the Beauty of Slowness’ bestows a blessing for the clear reward. 3 Stat Points have been granted.] 

[‘The God of Wisdom Who Loves Eternal Karma’ bestows a blessing for the clear reward. The special privilege ‘For Destiny (L)’ has been granted.] 

[‘The God of Courage Who Sings of Challenge and Hope’ bestows a blessing for the clear reward. The skill ‘Miraculous Revival (S)’ has been granted.] 

[You have broken the Tower conquest record for all dimensions. The additional reward ‘Time with the Administrator’ has been granted.] 

[The Fated Tower will remember the first conquerors of Planet 9180 ‘Earth’: Han Geon-joo, Kwon Sa-yoon, and Lee Jaehee.] 

[Now, return to your fated destiny.]

A brilliant light erupted, and the system window swallowed the three of them.

“You worked hard!”

A familiar voice welcomed the challengers who had cleared the Tower after a grueling ordeal. When the light faded and they opened their eyes, they saw the familiar white-haired god sitting with two unfamiliar figures on either side of him. The three men blinked slowly.

“…Are you the White-Haired Three Musketeers?”

Sa-yoon muttered in disbelief, looking at the two strangers who, like the God of Wisdom, had stark white hair.