Chapter 152

My top priority right now is “clearing the 12th floor, even just once.”

The reason is simple. I’ve started feeling like my mental state is slipping.

Spending eleven days doing absolutely nothing turned out to be far more excruciating than I had expected.

I needed to see Choi Ji-won again—not just to ease her worries, but to ground myself, too.

And naturally, a single question arises: “How am I going to clear the 12th floor?”

At present, there are two major problems.

First: a guy who doesn’t understand the limits of his own abilities and keeps charging into challenges way beyond his level.

Second: a short-haired girl who, upon seeing a teammate die, screams—and then proceeds to burn the rest of the group to a crisp.

Who knows how things will change moving forward, but for now, these are the biggest issues.

So what now?

Should I go in like before, swing my sword around to scare them, activate my [Awe] trait, and force them to obey?

I don’t think that’s the answer.

Their sense of self is just too strong.

“The [Awe] trait likely won’t trigger unless the situation is extreme.”

Against those who are arrogant or overly confident in their own strength, [Awe] rarely activates.

The trait works best when someone is mentally overwhelmed or when there’s a clear, undeniable power gap between us.

Sure, I may be much stronger than they are…

But they probably won’t be able to fully accept that in their hearts.

You think I could just beat them into submission and make [Awe] trigger that way?

That would likely backfire hard.

When it comes time to choose rewards, no one can interfere.

So if someone decides, “Fine, let’s all die together,” and picks the hardest possible reward just to spite me in the final test…

I’m the one who’ll be screwed.

Of course, one brutal possibility remains:

If this test continues even after someone dies—and just skips the reward selection phase for the dead—

Then I could guarantee success by simply killing the other four.

But obviously, that’s a no-go.

Advancing by killing people just isn’t my style.

Besides, in web novels and comics, the regressors who go down that route always meet a terrible end.

You kill this guy for this reason, that girl for that reason… and before you know it, there’s no one left beside you.

Neither I nor Choi Ji-won wants to become desensitized to murder in the first place.

Anyway, for all the reasons above, intimidation is off the table.

Which means I have to guide them to clear this floor—without threats or violence.

“Do you remember what I mentioned earlier? How the mannequin from [1] was ridiculously weak?”

“…Yeah, so?”

“And you guys also said the mannequins from [6] and [7] were noticeably stronger, right?”

In the last round, I picked [10], so someone else had to deal with [1].

But this time, I picked [1] and dealt with [1] myself—so the total number was a bit lower.

That’s why the girl with glasses didn’t get hers broken, and nobody came away injured.

“I think the higher the number, the stronger the mannequins get, drastically so. We need to be careful.”

That’s why their carelessness and arrogance were even worse than the previous round.

And I made sure to point it out.

“Ah, right.”

“Hmm…”

…But the other players just brushed it off with an “Oh, I see~” and moved on.

They’re naturally overconfident, and they’d just cruised through an easy win.

Of course, they wouldn’t listen to me. I expected that.

Still, this seemingly meaningless comment of mine will come in handy later.

​ –Before we begin the second test, please choose your rewards. Everyone, take a seat.

[10] Customized Item Box (Grade A- ~ C+)

[15] Elixir of Experience (Medium)

[20] Random Trait Box (Unique)

As we sat down again following the voice’s instructions, a familiar message window floated up before my eyes. Just like the previous round, [10] was the lowest-tier reward.

Is this predetermined?

Or is someone lying about picking [10] again?

There’s no way to know… unless I go ahead and kill the other four.

“Hmm…”

After a brief moment of deliberation, I pressed the [10] button.

The protective barrier around me vanished, and the number [85] appeared above the elevator.

“Just putting it out there—I picked 20.”

“Same.”

The short-haired girl and the man with the mole both boldly claimed to have picked [20].

“I chose 15.”

“Oh, me too.”

The bespectacled woman and the acne-faced guy claimed they picked [15].

Their numbers added up to 70.

But the elevator displayed 85.

Given that I picked [10], it meant one of them was lying again.

Last round, a single lie like that had snowballed into the mole guy’s death.

“Ah, I picked 15. Looks like the numbers match perfectly this time.”

…But what would happen if I told a lie too?

If someone falsely lowered their number by 5, I could falsely raise mine by 5.

That way, the source of all conflict would vanish.

Of course, it’d raise suspicion that I was the liar…

But as long as we cleared the test, who cared?

“That so? Then let’s get going. I’ll go first.”

“Wait, hold on—”

“I’ll be back~?”

Whether the others were thrown off or not, as soon as the mole guy saw the numbers aligned, he stepped into the elevator without hesitation.

This time, the number he entered was [20].

“Perfect.”

Internally, I let out a triumphant smile.

That was exactly what I’d aimed for.

The last time he had entered [25], he’d narrowly lost. Or so I had guessed.

So now, without getting greedy, he went with 20—at the very least, he wouldn’t die.

About 20 minutes passed.

“Oh, you’re ba—what the hell happened to you? Are you okay?”

“Urgh… ngh…”

The mole guy returned alive, barely clinging on—proof that my prediction had been correct.

He looked like a complete wreck.

His Dwarven armor was mangled beyond recognition, and there was a nasty gash on his cheekbone.

But he was breathing.

And maybe because of that, the short-haired girl—whose skin had reddened with concern—didn’t unleash any flames.

“Here, drink a potion. Your shoulder bone is practically sticking out…”

“Haa… haa… haa…”

The battered armor was so deformed it had practically become a weapon in itself—we had to forcefully remove it.

Once we peeled off the ruined Dwarven gear and got a potion into him, a bit of color returned to his face.

He’d probably have a scar or two left, but we’d just dodged a major disaster.

“So? What happened in there?”

“The mannequin… the mannequin was crazy strong…”

The mole guy explained that his opponent was a mannequin wielding a scythe.

He’d never fought against a weapon like that before.

“It didn’t use any special powers or anything. It just… fought really well. That’s all.”

A spear versus a scythe.

In terms of reach, the spear clearly had the advantage.

A scythe, by its very design, is ill-suited for thrusting or slashing—more for hooking and dragging.

Yet the mannequin pushed him to his absolute limit.

It held the scythe short, closed the gap relentlessly, and went straight for his neck—over and over again.

“If my armor hadn’t deflected some of the hits… I might’ve died in there.”

While the man grew fatigued, the mannequin never tired.

Realizing that the longer the fight dragged on, the worse it would get for him, the mole guy made a decision.

He trusted his armor, took the scythe hit to the shoulder, and used that moment, while the blade was lodged, to bring the mannequin down.

“Damn… I got cocky. If I’d known it would be this hard…”

Mid-sentence, he shot me a quick glance.

He must’ve remembered—I warned them. Told them it could get a lot harder and that they needed to be careful.

Exactly.

That was the plan I’d orchestrated.

Letting him barely survive so he could demonstrate just how dangerous this floor really was.

“…”

“…”

Now that they had visual proof—an actual survivor limping back half-dead—Even the overconfident ones looked completely deflated.

Their expressions practically screamed: “Wait, I have to fight that?”

“Alright then, I’ll go next.”

Thanks to that tension, I boarded the elevator without any resistance and entered [20].

Shouldn’t I be inputting [15]?

Yeah… but I wanted to see just how hard [20] really was.

Bzzt.

About 30 seconds later, the elevator doors slid open to reveal that all-too-familiar stark white space.

–The test will now begin.

“Hmm.”

As expected, since this was the same difficulty—[20]—the same black mannequin with the scythe rose from the ground.

I unsheathed my sword and calmly approached.

“Come on.”

If I got lucky, I could end it in one go.

But I was mentally prepared to loop back at least three times.

After all, taking down an opponent without getting a single scratch was no easy feat.

I don’t consider myself a top-tier fighter for a reason—just one hit, and I regress.

Unless there’s an overwhelming gap in power, winning flawlessly is next to impossible.

As the distance between us narrowed, and I stepped into striking range—

“…!”

The mannequin suddenly lunged forward, scythe in hand.

It swung low and wide at my abdomen, looking like it aimed to carve me open—

But its footing was shallow. A feint.

Whoosh!

The blade, lying flat, suddenly tilted upward—now aiming for my face.

That’s the danger of a long-bladed scythe: just a slight twist, and its reach becomes a deadly surprise.

But I’d seen it coming.

“Too slow.”

It also lacked the physical prowess to make up for it—the attack speed was sluggish.

If I had to compare… maybe around the level of the [3rd Floor’s] vulture girl.

In other words, nowhere near my match.

I tilted my head to dodge the scythe, then grabbed the handle with my left hand.

Physically, I was far superior.

Even with just one hand, I could overpower both of the mannequin’s arms.

Wham!

The moment it let go of the scythe and lunged at my legs, trying to wrestle me to the ground—

I drove my knee into its jaw with a resounding crack, snapping its neck back at a harsh 90-degree angle.

It stopped moving.

“Phew…”

The elevator doors opened.

It wasn’t an easy fight—but it wasn’t that hard either.

The mole guy… was even worse than I thought.

Or maybe—I’m just too used to fighting now?

“Still… if that’s [20], then [15] should be a cakewalk.”

I stepped back into the elevator with relief.

The short-haired girl clearly looked stronger than the mole guy, so she should be able to clear [20].

The real concerns were the glasses girl and the acne guy.

But since I’d shifted the numbers down by 5, they’d likely clear their tests safely too.

Which meant—the second test had a high chance of ending in success.

…But at the time, I had no idea.

That the true challenge… was the final test.

– – End of Chapter ––

 

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