{Morning – Final Preparations}
The soft light of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, casting a pale glow across the room. Jin-Seok's eyes fluttered open. His breath was steady, but inside, a storm of determination. Today was the day — the day he would finally step into the Tower.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath his feet. The familiar silence of the house wrapped around him like a protective cloak. No distractions, no noise — just the weight of what was to come.
He moved through his morning routine with ritualistic precision. Cold water splashed against his face, washing away the last vestiges of sleep and uncertainty. Thirty minutes of meditation followed, sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor of his room. Physical conditioning came next—two hundred push-ups, three hundred sit-ups, and a series of stretching exercises that left his muscles warm and ready. His reflection in the bathroom mirror showed a young man on the precipice of greatness—or destruction. Dark eyes held depths that seemed older than his eighteen years.
After a simple breakfast of rice, grilled fish, and green tea—possibly his last home-cooked meal for months or years—he walked down the narrow hallway to his grandfather's room. Each step felt heavier than the last, laden with the weight of legacy and expectation.
---
{The Study – Legacy and Equipment}
The door stood slightly ajar, as if the room itself had been waiting for this moment.
Inside, the study was a temple to memories and ambition. Worn leather chairs bore the impressions of countless late-night strategy sessions. Shelves groaned under the weight of Tower guidebooks, historical accounts, and theoretical treatises on magical systems. Trophies from his grandfather's climbing days gleamed faintly in the morning light—artifacts that had once meant the difference between life and death in the Tower's unforgiving floors.
And there, lying on a polished wooden chest beneath the window like an offering to the gods of fate, was the suit.
Jin-Seok approached it with the reverence of a pilgrim approaching a shrine. The fabric was exquisite—midnight black with the subtle sheen of expensive silk, adorned with threading so dark red it was nearly invisible unless the light caught it just right.
The suit fit him perfectly, as if it had been waiting eighteen years for his body to grow into its destiny. Over it, he draped a modern mantle-style coat that fell to his calves like an admiral's cape—a modification he'd commissioned to blend his grandfather's traditional aesthetic with contemporary Tower fashion in his younger days.
Next to the suit, a ring of black silver caught the light with an otherworldly gleam. Intricate engravings spiraled across its surface in patterns that seemed to shift and flow when observed directly. The metal felt warm against his skin, almost alive with barely contained energy. Jin-Seok's fingers trembled as he picked it up and slid it onto his right hand. The ring settled into place with a soft click, like a key finding its lock.
Finally, his eyes landed on a display shelf that housed his grandfather's collection—masks gathered from climbers met during decades of Tower ascension. Most were simple affairs, practical protection or minor magical items. But one called to him with an almost magnetic pull.
Matte black and sleek, with a faint pattern carved in the unmistakable shape of a demon's visage. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, each line and curve flowing together in perfect harmony. The moment he pressed it against his face, the world outside seemed to fade, replaced by a clarity of purpose that cut through every doubt and hesitation.
(Upon wearing, the mask becomes invisible and binds to him. It conceals his face from all recognition, masking his identity completely. No one can see it—but it's always there. Only a mask shaped by how they perceive him. Silly to some, terrifying to others.)
Looking at his reflection in the study's cracked mirror, Jin-Seok no longer saw the uncertain boy who had awakened that morning. The figure staring back was something else entirely—a successor, a warrior, a young man ready to carve his own legend into the Tower's unforgiving stone.
---
{Farewell – Alfred, the Butler}
"Alfred," Jin-Seok called softly as he made his way down the grand staircase, his footsteps echoing in the spacious hallway.
The robot butler emerged from the kitchen, his polished chrome frame gleaming in the morning light. Alfred had been more than a servant—he'd been Jin-Seok's constant companion through lonely years, a source of wisdom and comfort when his grandfather's training became overwhelming.
"Young Master Jin-Seok," Alfred's synthesized voice carried warmth that seemed impossible from mechanical vocal cords. "You are dressed... magnificently today. Is today perhaps—?"
"Yes, Alfred. I've decided to climb the Tower." Jin-Seok's voice was steady, but the butler's advanced sensors detected the slight tremor of anticipation.
Jin-Seok stepped forward and placed his hand on Alfred's metallic shoulder. "You've taught me more than you know. Your efficiency, your attention to detail, your unwavering loyalty—those lessons will serve me well in the Tower."
"Young Master..." Alfred's voice modulated to express something approaching emotion. "Your grandfather programmed me with thousands of protocols, but the most important was simple: protect and guide you until you were ready to walk your own path. Today, I must conclude that protocol has been... successfully completed."
"The mansion feels empty without Master's presence," Alfred continued. "But I shall maintain the mansion and everything in perfect condition for both your return. The gardens will bloom, the library will remain organized, and your grandfather's study will wait exactly as you left it."
"I might be gone for years, Alfred. And grandfather... he might not come back at all."
"Then I shall wait for however long it takes, Young Master. Time means little to one such as myself. But promise me something—find the answers you seek in that Tower. And come back alive with Master."
Jin-Seok couldn't help but smile. Even facing goodbye, Alfred maintained his peculiar blend of duty and gentle humor.
"Take care of yourself too, Alfred. Don't spend all your time in maintenance mode."
"I shall endeavor to find... hobbies, Young Master. Perhaps I will finally read all 12,847 books in the library. Or learn to paint. Master always said I had steady hands."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, eighteen years of shared memories passing between them.
"Goodbye, Alfred. Thank you... for everything."
The mechanical butler's optical sensors glowed warmly. "Good luck, Young Master Jin-Seok. I shall await your triumphant return. No matter how long it takes."
---
{The Tower District – First Encounter}
The Tower District buzzed with an energy that made Jin-Seok's skin tingle. Towering above everything else, the obsidian spire stretched impossibly high, its peak lost in clouds that never seemed to move. Around its base, a sprawling complex of buildings housed everything from equipment shops to guild halls.
Outside, the plaza buzzed with nervous energy as groups formed and reformed. Veterans pointed out obvious rookie mistakes. Hustlers sold "insider information" and "lucky charms" to the gullible. A few early fights had already broken out, quickly suppressed by Tower security—hulking figures in crystalline armor whose very presence made the air taste of ozone and suppressed violence.
Jin-Seok had arrived early, giving himself time to observe before the newbie trials began. The crowd was a mixture of nervous first-timers and seasoned climbers.
Jin-Seok became aware of a commotion behind him. Loud voices cut through the general buzz of conversation.
"Make way for Iron Fang!"
A group of five young climbers swaggered through the crowd, their matching crimson jackets adorned with a snarling wolf emblem. Other aspirants stepped aside, some with respect, others with barely concealed resentment.
At their head walked a young man with platinum blond hair and cold blue eyes. His jacket bore additional insignia—rank markers that proclaimed his status. This had to be Marcus Kane, the rank 15 Super Rookie everyone was talking about.
"Look at all these bottom-feeders," sneered one of his companions, scanning the crowd dismissively. "Half of them won't survive the first floor."
"The other half will quit after the trials," another added with a cruel laugh.
Their casual arrogance grated against Jin-Seok's nerves, but he kept walking away from them. Conflict before the trials would be pointless.
"Iron Fang Guild's ace is participating in newbie trials? That's overkill."
Jin-Seok ignored the murmurs, focusing instead on studying the Tower's entrance. Then commotion erupted near the registration booths.
---
{Intervention – The Child and the Guild}
"Watch where you're going, brat!" A harsh voice cut through the crowd.
Jin-Seok turned to see three young men in Iron Fang Guild uniforms surrounding a small girl who couldn't be older than ten. She clutched a basket of what looked like handmade trinkets, some scattered on the ground from where she'd apparently bumped into one of them.
"I-I'm sorry!" the girl stammered, scrambling to collect her fallen goods. "I didn't mean to—"
"Sorry doesn't fix my uniform," the tallest guild member snarled, raising his hand. "Maybe a good smack will teach you some manners."
The hand never fell.
Jin-Seok had moved faster than most eyes could follow, his grip iron-tight around the guild member's wrist. "Picking on children now, Iron Fang? How far has the guild fallen?"
"Who the hell are you—"
"I am with Iron Fang," Jin-Seok said calmly, not releasing the man's wrist. "Which makes this even more embarrassing." Without warning, he twisted the man's arm, forcing him into an awkward stance. "Your foundation is a complete mess. Did you learn this from street thugs?"
The guild member tried to break free, throwing a punch with his other hand. Jin-Seok caught it effortlessly, then demonstrated a proper stance by sweeping the man's legs and sending him sprawling.
"And your footwork—absolutely pathetic." Jin-Seok shook his head as the other two rushed him. "At least try to coordinate your attacks."
What followed wasn't so much a fight as a humiliating lesson in martial arts. Jin-Seok moved between them like water, correcting their forms mid-combat with casual efficiency.
"Your guard is too high—" He ducked under a wild swing and tapped the attacker's solar plexus, dropping him to his knees. "And you telegraph every move like you're waving a flag."
The third guild member hesitated, suddenly aware that their "fellow member" was treating them like amateur students rather than threats.
"Please stop!" the little girl cried out. "I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me!"
Jin-Seok stepped back, his point made. The three guild members lay groaning on the ground, more embarrassed than injured.
Then footsteps approached with purposeful stride.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Jin-Seok's eyes narrowed as he turned toward the voice.
Who has just arrived, and what will their presence mean for Jin-Seok?
_________________________________________________
{An Original Series by Celestial Raven}