She taught me everything I know.
The words I hear, the letters I read, everything I feel... was hers.
"Rachel," I asked once, tracing lines in the dirt. "What is 'fighting'?"
She looked at me, her eyes reflecting the dim light of our cave. "It's hitting and exchanging negative words with another due to hate."
"I know that..." I frowned, struggling to grasp the concept. "But I don't get why people have to fight. Why do they hate? Why must they hit and swear at another? Why fight?"
"I've been with Rachel for so long now," I said softly, looking at her hand in mine. "But... I've never once hated Rachel."
Rachel smiled, a sad, knowing smile. She reached out and patted my head. "Baam... If I was... If I was hit by someone or was being mistreated, What do you think you'll do?"
I thought for a moment. The darkness of the cave seemed to press in closer. "...Then... I think I'll get mad."
"Then~" She leaned in, her voice teasing. "Will you fight with the bad men? For me?"
"I will fight," I said, with absolute certainty.
"Yes~" She laughed, poking my forehead. "Fighting is like that. Baam really must be a genius."
The letter I write. The words I speak. Everything I do. All of that is hers.
-----------------------------------
[ 2nd Floor – EvankHell ]
White.
Blinding, searing white.
Baam squeezed his eyes shut as his consciousness returned. The cool, damp stone of the cage was gone. Instead, he felt something soft and bristly beneath him. The air was different here—dry, warm, and carrying the scent of dried vegetation.
He opened his eyes.
He was lying in a field of golden grass that stretched endlessly toward the horizon. Above him was not the oppressive ceiling of the cave, nor the dark vaults of Headon's floor, but a sky. A bright, azure sky that seemed to go on forever.
"Wh... where..." Baam sat up, shielding his eyes. "Is this? Is this inside the Tower as well? But... it's bright..."
Zzzzzzt.
A strange mechanical buzzing interrupted his thoughts. A small, black cube hovered in the sky above the field, projecting a voice that boomed across the plains.
"Mi-ke test! Mike test! One! Two! Three!"
Baam scrambled to his feet, looking around wildly.
"Hello everyone!" the voice chirped, cheerful and terrifyingly loud. "Regular members who have entered the Tower!! This is the 2nd Floor, and I sincerely welcome you to—THE EVANKHELL'S FLOOR!!"
Evankhell's Floor... Baam remembered Headon's words. Also called the Floor of Test. Because this is the level where you are deemed worthy of climbing this Tower.
"Shall we begin with a simple test first?" the voice continued, casual as a morning weather report. "You might as well get a good warmup exercise! The first test is very simple! I will begin announcing the rules, so listen carefully!"
Baam stood amidst the swaying grass, his heart pounding. 'A test... so suddenly... But I mustn't fail. Since I won't be able to progress to the next level!'
"The following are the rules for the first test!" the black box announced. "The number of Regulars in this floor totals 400! All you have to do is make that 400 go down to 200!"
Baam froze. The wind seemed to stop.
"From 400... down to 200 people...? BY ANY MEANS?!"
"The moment the number of Regular members go down to 200, this test will end! Then~ everyone, try your best!"
The transmission cut. The silence that followed was heavy with a terrible realization.
What does he mean? By any means...
A sudden gust of wind swept through the tall grass. It wasn't the fresh breeze from before. It was thick, metallic, and hot.
A bad feeling... seemed to be riding an eerie wind.
Baam's nostrils flared.
The winds are carrying a stench of blood.
And then, the screaming started.
It began as a single cry, then multiplied instantly into a cacophony of violence. The field exploded into chaos. The bad feeling became a reality.
Within my head, my mind screamed—RUN!
Baam bolted. He tore through the waist-high grass, his legs pumping furiously. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to move.
Rustle.
To his left, the grass parted. A massive figure lunged out—a brute of a man wielding a rusted broadsword. He roared, swinging the blade in a horizontal arc meant to cleave Baam in two.
"Uuk-"
Baam didn't think. Instinct took over. He dropped low, sliding under the blade, the wind of the swing ruffling his hair.
"Chet—" the brute spat, recovering his balance. "Brat's annoyingly agile...!"
Baam scrambled back to his feet and kept running.
'To get to the next level...'
An arrow hissed past his ear, burying itself in the dirt inches from his foot. On a distant ridge, a woman with long brown hair lowered a bow, clicking her tongue in annoyance.
'These 400 people will have to kill and be killed—'
Baam breathed hard, his lungs burning. The sounds of slaughter were everywhere now. Clashing steel, explosions of shinsoo, begging, and dying gurgles.
'And I have to be one of the 200 survivors!'
He stopped for a second, hidden in a dense patch of reeds. His hands were shaking.
'In order to go up, there's no other way—'
He gripped the hilt of the Black March tightly.
'I have to fight!'
Elsewhere in the field, the chaos was viewed through a different lens.
A boy with pale blue hair and sharp, intelligent eyes stood calmly amidst the carnage. He carried a large, rectangular leather case on his back and wore a crisp white shirt and tie. He looked less like a warrior and more like a student bored with a lecture.
"Kururururuk—"
A shadow fell over him. A towering creature with red skin and four arms loomed behind him, holding dual blades.
"Hey, Red Guy—" the boy said, not even turning around. "Can I ask you something?"
"Why are you trying to kill me?" the boy asked, his voice flat. "I have never done any harm to you."
The red creature laughed, a wet, grinding sound. "Kuruk?! Do you still not understand? The only ones living after the killing wins! That is the rule of this test!"
The blue-haired boy, Khun Aguero Agnis, sighed. He adjusted his tie. "The rule of the test, I see..."
"Is that how the ones commonly ruled think...?"
"What!?" the monster roared. "Shut up and say your prayers!! You stupid!!"
The creature brought both swords down in a crushing overhead strike.
Slash.
Khun didn't move his feet. He simply tilted his head, the blades missing him by a millimeter. "Can't say I like that option," he murmured.
He stepped inside the monster's guard. It was a movement of effortless grace.
"You asshole... what kind of bag is..." the monster stammered, confused by the large case Khun carried.
"The moment I heard the rules of this test, this is what I thought—" Khun said, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "Certainly, someone will kill another 200 and pass this test. But during that time, on the other hand—will be persuading the remaining 200 into becoming my companions."
"I will not be ruled. I make my own rules," Khun whispered, his hand blurring as he drew a dagger. "That is the mindset of a ruler."
"But you—" Khun looked up at the terrifying red face. "Are not even worthy to be ruled."
SHING.
Blood sprayed in a wide arc, painting the golden grass crimson. The red giant collapsed without a sound.
Khun wiped a speck of blood from his cheek, sheathing his knife. He looked around the field, listening to the screams of the dying with an expression of mild disappointment.
"Ah..." he sighed, clutching his leather bag straps. "Isn't there anyone worthy enough to go up with?"