How an Infinite Regressor Survives in the Tower

I look back on the first time I woke up in this place.

“……Haaah.”

I recall the version of me who wandered the cave in search of people, knowing absolutely nothing. Trembling like an idiot, wondering if I’d been kidnapped—only to get my skull shattered by a goblin that jumped me from behind. That was my first run.

Second run.

Thinking my first death had just been a nightmare, I screamed again for help—only to be torn apart alive by giant ants drawn by the noise. The sheer pain made me realize this was no dream.

Third run.

Upon accepting reality, I held my breath and searched for an exit—only to trigger a trap that lopped my head clean off.

Fourth run.

After a brutal struggle, I barely managed to kill a lone goblin and claimed its dagger. I tried fighting the ants with it—only to have my limbs hacked off before dying from shock.

Fifth run.

After killing the goblin, I grabbed the dagger but avoided combat as much as possible. Eventually, I stumbled upon a woman being devoured by a pack of wolves. Even split in half, she still screamed for me to save her the moment she spotted me. Thanks to that, the wolves turned their attention to me instead.

Goddamn bitch.

Sixth run.

Still, even nastiness deserves a bone. Since she was the first human I’d encountered across five deaths, I raced to reach her early. Together, we fought our way out of the cave—only to learn the horrifying truth that this world was a tower, and we’d barely escaped the first floor.

Thankfully, civilization existed from the second floor onward, allowing me to scrape by alone until old age claimed me.

Seventh run.

Realizing death just reset everything, I despaired. Upon spotting a goblin, I butchered it, stole its dagger, and plunged it into my own throat.

Eighth run.

Not even suicide granted release. The only escape from this cycle was to climb the tower to the very top. Using swordsmanship I’d accidentally picked up in the sixth run, I blasted through the first floor and began my ascent in earnest. After seven years, I reached the 8th floor—only to die by a comrade’s betrayal.