Chapter 3:

 The Tower – Tutorial (2)

Tower Floor 3.

Fortunately, the sword my avatar was holding hadn’t disappeared.

Thank goodness. I almost had to buy another one.

And because the avatar had been absorbed back into the main body before being recreated, all the sticky blood staining my clothes had vanished as well.

“Not bad. If I’m too lazy to shower, I can just make a new avatar.”

Other than the fact that every avatar spawned wearing military fatigues, I was pretty satisfied.

The moment I arrived on Floor 3, a message appeared from the crystal—something that hadn’t shown up when I first created the avatar.

[Hunt 1 Goblin.]

Apparently, climbing the Tower automatically gave you a quest required to proceed to the next floor.

I still hadn’t seen a goblin, but the moment I removed my hand from the crystal, part of the wall slid open and a goblin slowly walked toward me.

On Floor 2, I’d been ambushed immediately, but that was probably because I hadn’t ascended normally from Floor 1 to Floor 2. Normally, it seemed climbers started in a safe position.

Unlike the horned rabbit, this enemy was a green-skinned dwarf carrying a chipped hand axe.

I quickly purchased another shield from the shop.

The Inventory was linked to my main body, but the shield definitely weighed more than three kilograms, far beyond my current inventory capacity.

Still, killing the horned rabbit had rewarded me with 1 Shop Point, so it wasn’t a huge loss.

“…Actually, maybe it was a huge loss.”

One point equaled one high-grade healing potion.

That meant this lousy wooden shield was worth at least 50 million won outside the Tower!

But I couldn’t exactly keep dying forever.

Even if it was only an avatar, the pain was still real.

“Kerrrrk.”

The goblin glared at me viciously while making a disgusting phlegmy sound.

I fastened the shield to my left arm using the leather straps and raised it defensively.

The goblin moved first.

“Keh-ruk!”

The elementary-school-sized goblin swung its worn axe with all its strength.

I raised the shield against the obvious trajectory.

Crack!

I’d expected the axe to bounce off, but instead the blade lodged itself into the wood grain.

Still, the shield was sturdier than expected. It didn’t shatter or split apart.

Before the goblin could pull the axe free, I twisted the shield and swung my sword.

The goblin lacked the strength to recover its balance while holding onto the embedded axe.

The swordsmanship I’d gained from the Ability Stone drew a far cleaner arc than I expected, slicing across the goblin’s neck.

My Strength stat wasn’t high enough to decapitate it outright, but the goblin’s carotid artery was severed.

Clutching its throat, it collapsed.

“Ugh…”

The only things I’d ever killed before were mosquitoes and cockroaches.

Killing something that sprayed blood everywhere felt… strange.

The fact that it walked on two legs made it even more disturbing.

Still, unlike the rabbit, the goblin’s blood shimmered blue, making it feel less realistic somehow.

What? Did I feel sorry for the rabbit?

No way.

I wasn’t insane enough to sympathize with a rabbit that had killed me.

Any animal that harms humans deserves to die.

Though speaking of the blue blood…

Did that mean goblins used copper instead of iron in their bloodstream?

Hemocyanin instead of hemoglobin?

But hemocyanin transported oxygen less efficiently, making it unsuitable for vertebrates. Interesting.

Maybe goblins evolved in cold regions?

Unlike hemoglobin, hemocyanin retained functionality in freezing temperatures, so perhaps they evolved to use copper instead of iron due to living in extreme cold.

“…Then again, in a world where superpowers are normal, monsters with blue blood probably aren’t that strange.”

Come to think of it, the monsters in online photos all had different-colored blood too.

I’d assumed the colors were censorship edits.

Maybe those colors had actually been real.

Thinking that, I extracted the magic stone from the goblin’s chest.

No lucky Ability Stone this time.

But I did obtain the goblin’s axe.

Unlike my sword, it didn’t have a sheath, which was inconvenient, but it seemed useful as a throwing weapon.

I held the sword in my left hand and the axe in my right.

Then I touched the crystal and advanced to Floor 4.

* * *

The environment on Floor 4 wasn’t much different from Floors 2 and 3.

Ancient ruins, lit by torches mounted on the walls.

[Hunt 3 Goblins.]

The next-floor quest floated above the crystal.

Just like the Tower Returnees had described online and on television.

The specific monsters differed by country, but generally speaking, before Floor 10, the monsters possessed roughly elementary-school-level physical abilities.

However, from Floor 4 onward, multiple monsters would begin appearing at once, so people warned climbers to be careful.

Of course, Returnees also said that anyone with superpowers could deal with them easily.

The problem was that my ability wasn’t exactly combat-oriented.

“Don’t underestimate elementary school kids.”

A lazy adult male could easily lose to an energetic child in terms of stamina.

Just like on Floor 3, the wall shifted and formed an entrance.

Three goblins rushed out.

Before they could react, I immediately hurled the hand axe.

“First strike wins!”

The spinning axe flew quickly and embedded itself into the stomach of the goblin on the left.

“KIEEEEEK!”

The struck goblin screamed and collapsed.

The axe had sunk deep, but apparently not deep enough to kill instantly.

“Ah. Crap.”

I’d originally aimed for the middle goblin’s head, but the throw had missed badly.

Luckily, the goblins had been standing close together. Otherwise, I would’ve just gifted the enemy a weapon.

The idiot goblin hit by the axe made an even dumber decision.

It yanked the axe out of its own stomach.

Well… I understood the instinct.

When something painful and foreign lodged itself in your body, naturally you wanted to remove it immediately.

Thanks to my personal experience with a rabbit punching a horn-shaped hole through my chest, I could sympathize a little.

But the goblin’s foolish choice caused the wound to split open wider, and blood gushed everywhere.

“Blegh. That’s grotesque.”

The remaining goblins became visibly agitated at the sight of blood and charged me while wielding a hand axe and a rusted dagger.

I couldn’t handle three-on-one.

But two-on-one? Maybe.

Clang!

I tried to switch my sword from my left hand to my right—

—and accidentally dropped it.

I hurriedly crouched to pick it back up.

At that moment, the goblin with the axe swung at my head.

Block—!

No, dodge!

Panicking, I rolled sideways.

That was the wrong choice.

There were two enemies.

The goblin holding the dagger stabbed downward toward my neck with a reverse grip.

“Gah!”

I barely raised the shield in time.

The dagger struck with enough force to punch a small hole into the wooden shield.

With my life on the line, I swung my sword despite my trembling hands.

Even then, the sword technique itself traced a surprisingly clean path.

The one-handed sword carved deeply across the dagger goblin’s abdomen—

—and in the same instant, a massive impact struck my head.

Something warm ran down my face.

My blood.

The axe goblin had buried its axe into the back of my skull.

You little green piece of trash…!

My consciousness returned to my main body.

* * *

I clutched my head as a splitting headache overtook me.

I knew it was phantom pain, but it still took over ten seconds for the vivid sensation to fade.

“Whew…”

I still hadn’t gotten used to pain at all.

But this second death felt… different somehow.

“What’s going on? Why am I not afraid?”

It was strange.

I hadn’t noticed it during the first death, but now it was obvious.

I wasn’t afraid.

The pain itself was terrifying.

But death itself… somehow wasn’t.

It felt more like watching the death of a character I controlled in a game.

Because it wasn’t my real body dying?

No.

That alone couldn’t explain it.

Most ordinary people froze in terror just standing on a bungee jump platform.

Yet moments ago, I’d become so caught up in the fight that I’d panicked, dropped my sword, and failed to properly use my shield.

If I kept using this ability, eventually I probably would grow accustomed to dying through my avatars.

Humans adapted to repetition.

The first bungee jump was terrifying. After enough times, people jumped willingly.

Humans were creatures of adaptation.

“Should I view this positively… or negatively?”

The positive interpretation was that Multidimensional Avatar possessed some hidden mental protection effect.

The negative possibility…

What if this was actually the penalty for death?

Fear of death was a survival instinct.

Losing that instinct was a massive disadvantage.

If my survival instincts became numb, who knew what other emotions or senses might be affected too?

Still, the positive explanation seemed more likely.

After all, I’d only died twice.

It seemed too early for severe side effects to appear already.

I opened my Status Window and checked my condition.

[Condition: Normal, Tense, Hungry]

Nothing unusual appeared.

But once doubt entered my mind, I couldn’t help questioning whether the Status Window itself was trustworthy.

I took several deep breaths and tried calming myself.

It wasn’t easy, but once I stabilized somewhat, the “Tense” condition disappeared.

As my nerves settled, I reflected on my state once more.

“Does the fear of death disappear only while controlling the avatar? Or is it affecting me directly?”

I concentrated and replayed my deaths in my mind, imagining death approaching again.

A chill ran down my spine, and my Status Window changed.

[Condition: Normal, Fear, Hungry]

“Huff! Huff! Huff!”

Because I had truly experienced death, the sensations felt horrifyingly vivid.

Cold sweat poured down my body as I trembled violently.

“O-Okay… I don’t think the fear itself is actually gone…”

Maybe I’d focused too intensely, because the fear didn’t fade easily.

But while concentrating, I sensed something like a protective barrier inside my mind.

Maybe it was just my imagination.

Still, when I focused on that “barrier,” the fear rapidly subsided.

[Condition: Normal, Hungry]

“So there really is something inside my head.”

Unfortunately, I was far too suspicious by nature to simply accept that positively.

Normally, if someone started doubting their own mental state, the reasonable thing would be to leave the Tower immediately.

But could I ever experience something this fascinating outside the Tower?

“No chance.”

If so, then wasn’t the best option simply to enjoy it while I could?

Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

Death?

I prepared to create another avatar and return to Floor 4.

“Huh?”

The slot in the ability window had turned gray.

[Avatar Slot 1: Tower Floor 4 / Time 00:12:30]

[Avatar Slot 1: Tower Floor 4 / Time 00:12:31]

[Avatar Slot 1: Tower Floor 4 / Time 00:12:32]

And this time, the timer was moving.

After around ten seconds, it stopped.

[Avatar Slot 1: Tower Floor 4 / Time 00:12:40]

Once the timer stopped, the gray slot regained its original blue color.

Instinctively, I understood.

This was the penalty for an avatar’s death.

Death didn’t merely consume Avatar Points.

When an avatar died, I couldn’t immediately return to that body. Time had to pass while the avatar remained dead.

And during that interval, there was absolutely nothing I could do.

Apparently the same penalty had existed during my first death too.

But back then, the waiting period had been too brief for me to notice.

This time, however, I’d spent several minutes organizing my thoughts, meaning the ability had remained unavailable that whole time.

Fortunately, while I’d spent several minutes thinking in my main body, only around ten seconds had passed for the avatar.

“But if I keep dying, eventually I won’t be able to climb the Tower at all.”

[Required Points for Avatar Recreation: 2]

The required Avatar Points had increased.

Did it rise by one every death?

No.

That wasn’t it.

Instinctively, I knew.

It doubled each time.

Right now it was insignificant.

But eventually, the cost would increase exponentially with every death.

The best way to describe it…

Avatar Points felt like bribes paid to the dimension where the avatar existed.

Like I was asking the dimension itself to quietly overlook my death.

But death still accumulated in the end.

Infinite lives.

Infinite retries.

Those weren’t possible.