TFN C59

Chapter 59

From the heavens to the earth, an immense pillar pierced through space and time, its end unseen.

Wonhyo tilted his head back to gaze upon the Tower. Mana rippled and shimmered against its rounded walls, said to enthrall even the Awakened. It resembled Cheongmun’s cube-skills in form, but the color differed—red motes glittered and scattered like powder adrift in the air.

“—Looking for a party!”

“Seeking one more for the 2nd floor! We’ll depart once we have a full group!”

Ordinarily, companions were gathered through an app, and entry numbers fixed in advance. Evidently, someone had broken an appointment, for frantic voices now called out to fill the gap.

Wonhyo covered his ears and stepped aside. He did not stray far, since he would need to return soon anyway. He wished to crouch in some hidden corner, but their meeting time was nearly at hand.

Glancing about, he snapped a picture of a nearby vending machine cluster and sent it to Cheongmun with a message.

[Arrived, waiting near here. Where are you?]

Almost as soon as the “read” mark vanished, a reply came.

[-Nearby.]

Wonhyo’s eyes flicked around, and then halted on one figure—a tall man standing before the row of vending machines.

“Is that him?”

At first, he had not recognized him without his usual formal suit. But once realized, Cheongmun’s presence was unmistakable.

Wonhyo carefully threaded through the gathered crowd toward him.

“Hello.”

He pulled down his mask and bowed politely.

“Good day.”

Lowering his phone, Cheongmun returned the greeting.

Unlike his usual all-black attire, his outfit bore variation: a high-necked turtleneck beneath a long coat stood out, though gloves and spectacles remained the same.

“You found me rather easily.”

“…Pardon?”

Wonhyo tilted his head in puzzlement. From where he had stood to here was scarcely four or five steps. Could there have been some kind of trap?

Catching his confusion, Cheongmun tapped lightly at his coat collar.

“I’m wearing a perception-disruption item. For you to recognize me at once is… curious.”

“Ah…”

Only then did Wonhyo realize the secret of his altered attire. He glanced around—indeed, no one nearby seemed to spare Cheongmun a second look.

“The item functions properly, so this is unusual.”

Wonhyo blinked. He hadn’t spotted him instantly either—he had simply followed a feeling until his eyes landed upon him.

“Mm, I suppose I recognized your energy. Nothing more.”

He swallowed the thought that something that dangerous, anyone should sense it.

“My energy?”

Cheongmun’s eyes narrowed, but Wonhyo had no other way to explain, so he affirmed it.

“I’ll need to test a different item next time.”

There seemed no need, but surely Cheongmun had his reasons. Wonhyo only nodded.

Then, without gesture, a window opened before Wonhyo’s eyes.

[‘Cheongmun Lee’ has invited you to form a party. Accept? Y/N]

It was the party system.

Wonhyo fumbled a moment at the novelty, then calmly joined.

“But… we didn’t do this when we went into the dungeon, did we?”

He had heard that whether one partied or not, entry into dungeons or towers scattered arrivals randomly unless they physically touched. So he had never seen the need for a party in a tower.

Cheongmun’s lips curved faintly.

“It is because we booked the entry as a party.”

“Ahh.”

Simple enough.

Wonhyo turned toward the entrance. Entry into the Tower was possible anytime for the Awakened, but reserving times had a purpose—like registering ascent and descent in a national park to prevent disappearances.

It was also said that only as many as the safety zones could hold were admitted at once, preventing overcrowding and chaos, especially in the early floors where the masses gathered.

“Then, let’s go.”

After checking the time, Cheongmun strode toward the waiting line, Wonhyo in tow.

The previous group had just entered, so the queue filled anew and stretched long.

Wonhyo eyed those ahead and behind, then glanced down at his own attire—padded winter jumper, quilted trousers, fleece-lined sweatshirt.

The first to seventh floors were said to be little different in climate from the outside, so he had simply bundled up warmly. Yet compared to others—geared in armor and artifact equipment—he felt shamefully unprepared.

Particularly the group before them, armed head to toe with recognizable gear.

“What troubles you?”

Cheongmun noted his constant darting glances.

Wonhyo leaned closer, whispering.

“Do we… need equipment?”

Cheongmun had assured him only yesterday that the 7th floor required no special preparation, so Wonhyo had hurriedly brought only talismans. Now, seeing everyone else armored, it seemed only the two of them were so lax.

Cheongmun’s brow rose slightly.

“It will be fine—at least until the quest.”

“Pfft!”

Laughter burst nearby. Wonhyo started, head snapping toward the sound. It came from the very group he had been watching.

“Ah, sorry! Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you’re right next to us.”

Their apology rang hollow, the smirk lingering as their eyes swept the two up and down.

“Dressed like that, you won’t even be admitted. At least basic safety gear’s required.”

It was hard to tell if the words were muttered or meant to sting. One of their companions tapped him in half-hearted rebuke.

“Why bother? They’ll be turned back anyway. Don’t pick fights with strangers.”

So it was no rebuke at all.

Wonhyo glanced at Cheongmun. His face betrayed no reaction, as if what others said was beneath concern. Wonhyo closed his own mouth without reply, tugging his mask higher to hide his face.

As he tried to edge back and avoid conflict, someone stumbled into him.

The same man, shoved by his rowdy friends, collided with Wonhyo.

“Ah! Sorry.”

The apology carried no weight. Wonhyo’s face drained pale, but after several deep breaths he steadied himself.

“Hey, I told you not to.”

“It’s fine. I apologized.”

Their voices carried loudly enough for him to hear.

“You all right?”

Cheongmun drew him aside by the arm. Wonhyo sighed, then nodded. His narrowed eyes lingered on the rowdy group.

Fate, for good or ill, was still fate. He had no power to keep others from inviting misfortune upon themselves.

“No great harm will come of it,” he murmured.

It was only a shoulder bump. Perhaps one of them would stumble on a slope someday—or into a swamp from which they could not escape. Wonhyo had no wish to hand them protective talismans.

Cheongmun smiled faintly.

“I meant you, Wonhyo. You dislike being touched.”

Wonhyo blinked, then leaned closer.

“I’m fine. And about that perception-disruption item—you needn’t worry. It works very well.”

Indeed, too well.

Cheongmun’s lips twitched upward again.

The line shuffled forward. Soon, the noisy group entered, leaving Cheongmun and Wonhyo before the gatekeeper.

“Scan here.”

Cheongmun presented his QR reservation. As the official checked their names and headcount, his gaze flickered.

“Two people… ah?”

His dazed eyes sharpened.

“…Ah?”

“Is there a problem?”

Cheongmun’s calm question made the man startle. Hastily, he shook his head.

“No, sir. Please proceed.”

Wonhyo exhaled relief, unclenching his fists.

Cheongmun led him not to the check-in turnstiles, but straight to the Tower’s true entrance. Casting a glance at the noisy party ahead, he extended his hand.

“Shall we?”

Wonhyo told himself it was only for entry’s sake and carefully laid his hand in Cheongmun’s. Fingers clasped, firm and unyielding.

“Commencing entry.”

And the world twisted out of sight.