Chapter 4: Tutorial (4)

[The energy of lightning now resides within your mana.]

The message appeared right after I consumed the elixir. 

I couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle as I manipulated the minuscule amount of mana flowing through my body. 

Blue lightning writhed like a dragon between my fingers.

With this, I could finally make use of some of the sword techniques taught to me by that old geezer, Soonsunja.

Suddenly, memories of Ryu Yeon—the cranky old man—flooded my mind. 

Thanks to my perfect memory, I was able to recall his face with absolute clarity, as if I were staring at him now.

The first time I met him was on the 40th floor, during my 13th regression.

Among all the different civilizations I had encountered while climbing the Tower, his world was particularly alien.

It was a place riddled with yokai, yet devoid of capable people to confront them. 

A land without dreams or hope. 

My guild, to which I belonged at the time, had marked Ryu Yeon as a target for subjugation.

The reason? 

Nothing complicated. 

The old man had simply made camp smack in the middle of the Tower’s ascent.

He said if we wanted to pass, we’d have to survive his trial. 

So, we took on the challenge—and failed.

At least we didn’t die from that alone. 

We only got beaten within an inch of our lives.

I think that’s when I first became captivated by his sword.

Every swing of his blade summoned thunder. 

Each strike echoed like a storm, and lightning rained down in dozens of forks. 

It was more than enough to steal my breath away.

But not everyone in my party shared my admiration. 

One of them, in particular, responded with fury.

“He’s that bastard’s only family.”

One day, while we were still recovering from our injuries, a man—reckless even by our standards—walked in, tossed down a young girl’s severed head, and spat those words.

We killed him that very day.

But the damage was already done. 

No amount of vengeance would bring back the girl whose head had been taken.

Everything that followed was inevitable.

The old man came to us—and wiped us out completely.

I was the last to fall, fighting tooth and nail to claim even a fragment of his swordsmanship.

In the end, I died. 

But I still remember the words he said as his blade pierced my heart.

“Your eyes still burn bright. If we meet again, become my disciple.”

And just like that, I felt another wave of admiration for him. 

To say something like that—to a member of the guild responsible for killing his granddaughter—what kind of man was he?

I held no resentment toward him. 

We were the ones in the wrong to begin with. 

And by that point, I had long accepted my reality as a regressor. 

Death still frightened me, but it no longer made me cower.

I simply resolved that, in the next regression, I would become his disciple—no matter what.

And I did.

The years I spent training under his sword remained one of the few precious memories I still cherished.

Yes, just a memory now.

It’s all in the past.

“Yaaawn…”

I stretched and sat up with a yawn.

It was already five hours past sunrise on the second day of our transition into the Tower.

By modern standards, it was about 5 a.m.—a time when good little children should still be sound asleep. 

But our goblin friends and those damn ants were still going at it like their lives depended on it.

Not far from the resting area, I could hear their shrieks and cries echoing faintly.

Still, it wasn’t loud enough to disturb sleep. 

Proof of that lay nearby—Yuhana had already slipped into slumber, her soft breaths rising and falling as she lay curled on the floor, showing no signs of waking.

I, on the other hand, was already up—probably because I was ancient.

At some point during all these regressions, I stopped counting my age after I passed 300.

Honestly, if you fudge the numbers a bit, I might even be older than Ryu Yeon himself.

“Next time we meet, I should try talking down to him.”

I could already see myself getting smacked into the next dimension, but who cares? 

It wouldn’t be the first time he beat me senseless back when I was his disciple.

Clearing my mind of stray thoughts, I drew the blade from the black scabbard resting on the ground.

With a clear, ringing sound, the sword slid free and caught the light of the glowing stones embedded in the ceiling, sparkling like polished obsidian.

It never failed to dazzle. 

Beautiful—so annoyingly beautiful. Almost too pretty to use carelessly.

But what choice did I have? 

It was virtually indestructible. 

A harsh life was its destiny from the moment I first wielded it. 

Through countless regressions, that one truth had never changed.

Schk—!

I slashed the blade downward from above. 

Thanks to its weight—far lighter than an ordinary iron sword—it carved the air swiftly, leaving behind a sharp, clean arc. 

After dozens of vertical slashes, I began to reacquaint myself with the state of my body post-regression.

This was a ritual I repeated every time I returned. 

Without it, my mind, still accustomed to my previous body’s condition, could create dangerous confusion in combat.

Like thinking I could do something, only for my body to lag behind and die for it.

Or going easy on an enemy, planning to subdue and recruit them, only to get overpowered and killed instead.

To avoid those kinds of tragedies, adjustment was essential. 

I’d lost count of how many deaths I’d suffered from skipping it.

Hooo…

After the sword drills, I sat cross-legged and began focusing my breath and mana flow. 

Before meeting Ryu Yeon, I would’ve used this time to build a mana heart.

But now, it was different.

Following his teachings, I began circulating my inner energy—what some would call mana. 

Cold sweat ran freely down my body, but I ignored it.

Before I knew it, the time had crept past 9 a.m. 

Around then, Yuhana stirred awake and slowly sat up.

“Ugh… So it wasn’t a dream after all…”

That was the first thing she said upon waking. 

Then she turned to me with a sleepy smile and offered a warm, “Did you sleep well?”

I ended my meditation with a quiet chuckle and opened my eyes.

Ordinarily, external disturbances during meditation could result in inner deviation—juhaipma, as it’s called.

But me? 

I’m the guy who killed an evil god, even if it was just once.

Something like minor interference? 

That’s child’s play. 

If I really wanted to, I could do spiritual introspection while doing head spins.

Although Ryu Yeon once did fall into inner deviation just because I called it a “mana brunch.”

I got beaten senseless that day. 

Like a dog on the hottest day of summer.

“Did you sleep alright?” I asked, brushing off the memory with a smile.

Yuhana nodded sheepishly, an awkward grin tugging at her lips.

“My back’s a bit sore… but I’m okay.”

“Well, it is a cave. Can’t be helped. You hungry?”

“I-I’m fine!”

She glanced toward a dead ant lying belly-up nearby, then blurted that out in a panic. 

At the same time, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl.

A rumble anyone within earshot could hear. 

Her face turned beet red as she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

“H-Hrrgh…”

“If you’re hungry, just eat. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“I-I’ll eat later…”

Her “later” really meant “I’ll starve today and secretly devour an entire ant tomorrow.” I knew the pattern well by now. Nodding, I stood up in one fluid motion.

“W-Where are you going?” she asked.

“To get food. And maybe find the way out.”

“I’ll go too!”

“You got magic?”

At my gentle question, Yuhana hesitated. Her expression twisted slightly as she averted her eyes.

That was all the answer I needed.

I ruffled her hair and spoke softly.

“Let’s go when you can use it. You’ve stayed here now—you know this place is safe. So today, focus on learning magic. We’ll head out together tomorrow.”

“…Okay.”

Clutching her grimoire tightly, Yuhana lowered her gaze with a hint of gloom.

She’d probably be able to use magic by tonight, or at the latest, tomorrow.

That’s what talent is.

Unlike someone like me—who had to die dozens of times, over and over, to grasp even the basics—she would soar the moment she touched magic.

She’d likely be flooded with offers from countless guilds once we hit the second floor.

But of course, I had no intention of handing her over.

She would stay with me—until the very end.

With that thought in mind, I gently let go of Yuhana’s head.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“G-Good luck out there… Si-yoon oppa…”

She replied in a bashful voice.

The way she addressed me had changed—from Si-yoon-ssi to Si-yoon oppa.

Another typical turning point.

If I told her to go back to calling me Si-yoon-ssi, then later, when I spoke to another girl, she’d blow up—demanding to know why I was drawing lines only with her.

And when she was like this, she wasn’t easy to handle.

At minimum, I’d need to stick close for a week, pampering her like a cherished kitten. 

Then other girls would come charging in, demanding to know why she was the only one getting special treatment.

An endless cycle.

But if I allowed the oppa, our relationship would deepen.

Even if I spoke with other women, she wouldn’t get explosively jealous—she’d tell herself that she’s the one I’m closest to, and remain calm.

…At least until that calm shattered. 

Then it became a whole different mess.

But that was manageable, as long as I paced it right.

So my choice was always the same.

“Sure, Hana.”

At my warm reply, Yuhana gave me a soft, hazy smile.

Once again, I was Si-yoon oppa.

Let’s talk about the Tower.

This voracious maw of a place that snatches people from every imaginable world and swallows them whole—

It’s as bizarre as it is terrifying.

I was once a thoroughly ordinary Earthling.

Not from a world with hunters or gates, not a returnee from some great isekai quest, not even a soldier from a war-torn fantasy.

Sure, there was some minor chaos—a war between the U.S. and China that ended with China turning into a city-state.

But me? I was just a plain, regular guy.

Yet even someone like me got dragged into the Tower.

No one knows the criteria for who gets transferred.

Not even I do.

All I know is that, at regular intervals, new people appear in the tutorial zone—on the first floor.

Why they come here, or for what purpose they’re abducted—

Only the being that created the Tower would know.

Regression isn’t omnipotent.

There were times when my spirit broke.

Times when I committed suicide over and over, just to learn a single piece of information.

And even then, sometimes I didn’t get the answers I sought.

The rules of who gets transferred—

That’s one of the great mysteries I’ve never been able to crack.

There are a few others too… but I’ll save those for later.

One thing is certain: the people who appear in the Tower come from wildly different worlds.

Some, like me, are from mundane lives.

Others have walked the path of martial arts.

There are knights who fought dragons.

And cyborgs with blades hidden in their arms.

All of them—shoved together into the same tutorial.

How could that not lead to chaos?

Everyone came from different walks of life—different cultures, different levels of civilization.

Conflict was inevitable.

It was only natural that more people died at each other’s hands than by the claws of monsters.

That was what happened with the cohort after mine.

I heard a hundred people got transferred.

Barely ten made it out alive.

A grim and miserable reality.

But what could you do?

That’s the Tower for you.

The Tower is a convenient place in that way.

No matter how absurd something was, people would just nod and go,

“Well… it’s the Tower.”

I made good use of that, too.

—KIIIIIIIIIK!!

Squelch!

I continued my train of thought as I shoved my blade straight into the writhing ant’s gaping maw.

Now then, let’s shift the topic.

Not about the transferred, but about climbing.

This Tower—stretching up to the 100th floor—holds countless civilizations.

Even on the second floor, one entire city of the Calavarium Kingdom is laid out in full.

And that’s just the start.

From there, you can explore the kingdom, even cross entire continents.

To call it a “city” is an understatement—it’s practically a whole world in itself.

So what about the third floor?

There, you’ll find no civilization.

Only a task to overcome.

[Defend against the Monster Wave] – [1/3]

It was sometimes like that.

Only after completing the objective could you ascend to the fourth floor—and only by solving that floor’s challenge could you move to the fifth.

You might wonder, “If so many people have already passed through, why do the floors still exist?”

Simple.
Climbing is a solo endeavor.

Think of it like this:

Floors with civilizations, like the second floor, are the game’s “towns.”

Floors like the third or fourth, filled with challenges, are its “quests.”

Just because one player finishes the story in an online game doesn’t mean others can’t do the same quest.

The Tower works the same way.

You climb either solo or in a party.

Once you’ve cleared a floor, you can pass through it freely.

Whether descending from above or ascending from below—it doesn’t matter.

That’s why many climbers use civilization-based worlds as their home bases, moving up and down the floors in a cycle of challenge and return.

But because of that, the newbies—those freshly arrived from the first floor— can’t get any direct help from the veterans.

To climb the Tower, you either form a party with people around your level… or challenge it alone.

Joining a guild does offer support—gear, supplies, advice—so you don’t die too easily.

But even then, they can’t climb for you.

In the end, you had to rely on yourself. Or on your comrades.

There was no such thing as “carrying” someone.

For the average, freshly transferred soul—

It was an awfully cruel system.

But again…

That’s the Tower.