A fracture.
The massive, swirling distortion of space hovered a few meters ahead, pulsing softly, its surface rippling like disturbed water. Unlike the fractures appearing in the real world, this one was stable, controlled. It wasn’t a chaotic tear in reality—it was a gateway, a deliberate challenge meant to test and mold those who dared to step forward.
Jisoo exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he mentally prepared himself. This wasn’t just about gaining power—it was about proving something to himself. He had knowledge. He had preparation. But none of that mattered if he couldn’t execute.
His system chimed softly.
[Tower of Trials: Floor 1 Available]
A confirmation panel materialized before him.
[Would you like to begin?]
[Yes]
[No]
There was no hesitation. He pressed [Yes].
The moment he did, the fracture surged open, expanding outward like an unfurling portal. An unseen force pulled at his body, and the world around him blurred into streaks of blue and silver. A brief weightlessness overtook him before everything snapped back into focus.
The shift in atmosphere was immediate.
The sterile stillness of the Tower Hub was replaced by an ancient ruin, the air thick with the scent of moss and damp stone. Jisoo found himself in a dimly lit corridor, towering pillars stretching toward the unseen ceiling above, their surfaces engraved with faded markings. The walls bore the scars of age, cracked and worn, yet the place still radiated an undeniable presence—as if it were watching.
A notification appeared in his interface.
[First Combat Trial: Eliminate all enemies and find the exit.]
Beneath it, an additional line flickered into existence, separate from the standard Tower instructions.
[Your past knowledge is useful, but real combat is different. Adapt.]
Jisoo smirked. His system was direct, if nothing else.
He adjusted his grip on his weapon—a basic yet sturdy sword, summoned by the system for the trial. It felt natural in his hands, his grip firm, but there was still an underlying stiffness to his movements. He needed to shake off the hesitation.
He inhaled deeply, steadying his pulse. It’s just goblins. Weak enemies. I’ve got this.
Or so he thought.
The first sign of movement came from the shadows ahead.
Two goblins emerged, their eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. They were smaller than a grown man, but their movements were unnervingly quick—far faster than he expected. Their snarls echoed against the stone walls, the sound primal, unrestrained.
Jisoo moved.
He lunged forward, executing a perfect textbook strike—his blade cutting through the air with trained precision. He had studied their attack patterns, their weaknesses. This should have been an instant kill.
But the goblin dodged.
Jisoo’s sword barely grazed its side, the momentum throwing off his balance. His mind knew what to do, but his body lagged behind, reacting just a fraction too slow. The second goblin seized the opening, its crude dagger flashing toward his ribs.
Jisoo twisted instinctively, the blade narrowly missing his side, but the sudden dodge cost him his footing. He stumbled, his knee hitting the ground hard.
His system reacted instantly.
[Your mind knows what to do, but your body hesitated. Move faster.]
Jisoo gritted his teeth, frustration flashing through him. So that’s how it is.
This wasn’t a game. His knowledge meant nothing if his body couldn’t execute it.
He forced himself back up, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. The first goblin lunged again, its jagged teeth bared.
This time, he was ready.
Jisoo sidestepped smoothly, adjusting mid-motion, and brought his blade down in a precise arc. The goblin’s snarl cut off abruptly as the steel sliced cleanly through its throat.
It fell.
Jisoo’s breathing was steady, but his chest felt oddly heavy.
He had seen countless deaths in his past life—on the news, in stories, even firsthand. But he had never caused one himself.
For a moment, he just stared at the body. The stillness of it. The way the light dimmed in its lifeless eyes. He had read about this feeling—the first kill was always the hardest.
His fingers flexed, and his grip on the sword tightened. His heart thudded in his chest, not from fear, but from realization.
The system didn’t pressure him, didn’t dismiss the moment. Instead, a simple notification appeared before him.
[First Kill Achieved.]
And then, a soft, almost understanding message.
“It’s normal to feel this way. But you have no time to dwell on it.”
Jisoo exhaled sharply.
The second goblin charged.
This time, there was no hesitation.
His blade moved smoother.
The goblin swiped at him, but he redirected his stance effortlessly, weaving past its attack before plunging his sword straight into its chest.
The creature gurgled once before collapsing.
Jisoo pulled back, his breathing evening out. His second kill. And this time, it felt different.
His hesitation hadn’t vanished completely, but it was fading.
A message appeared.
[Better. Now refine it.]
Jisoo smirked. His system was encouraging him.
It wasn’t just about survival anymore. This was a process. A refinement.
And he was only getting started.
Jisoo exhaled sharply, steadying his breath as the second goblin collapsed before him. The battle had been short, yet in those moments, his mind had raced through every possible outcome. Victory felt different when it was earned with his own hands.
As the goblin's body began to dissolve, a faint glow pulsed where it had fallen.
A notification flickered across his vision.
[Mana Core Acquired.]
Jisoo’s gaze snapped to the small, hovering sphere of light that replaced the goblin’s corpse. The core was dull gray, no larger than a marble, but its significance was far greater than its unassuming appearance suggested.
He crouched, plucking the core from the air. The moment his fingers closed around it, a familiar sensation coursed through him—raw energy, condensed into a tangible form.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
His system chimed in.
[Core Grade: Lowest Tier – Gray.]
Jisoo’s eyes narrowed. Mana Cores. He had expected them, yet now that he was holding one again, it reminded him of just how valuable they were.
In his past life, Mana Cores had quickly become the foundation of the new economy. They served three primary purposes:
- Currency – Even the weakest cores held value, and high-tier ones could buy fortunes.
- Power Source – Many artifacts and enchanted items required cores to function.
- Absorption – Some individuals had unique skills that allowed them to consume cores directly, strengthening their mana capacity over time.
Jisoo rotated the core in his palm, watching its faint glow flicker.
“Gray, huh…” He muttered, eyes flicking to his interface.
There were six known tiers of Mana Cores, ranked by color:
- Gray – Weakest, common in low-rank creatures.
- Green – Slightly stronger, often found in low-tier dungeons.
- Blue – Mid-tier, valuable to early awakeners.
- Purple – High-tier, used in powerful enchantments.
- Gold – Rare, carrying immense mana reserves.
- Crimson – The highest known grade, dropped only by creatures of unparalleled strength.
This gray core was essentially worthless in the grand scheme of things. But even so, every step counted.
He stored the core into his system inventory, a personal space accessible only within the Tower. There was no time to dwell on minor rewards.
Jisoo’s boots echoed lightly against the stone floor as he approached the exit of the trial. The archway ahead shimmered, signaling the end of the first combat test.
A new prompt appeared before him.
[Register Floor Completion?]
[YES] – Move forward.
[NO] – Reset the floor.
Jisoo’s steps slowed. His fingers hovered over the confirmation option.
27 minutes.
In his past life, the fastest record for the first floor had been just over 30 minutes. He had cleared it faster than anyone had before.
Yet…
His grip tightened.
It wasn’t enough.
This was his second chance. If he wanted to stand above everyone else, if he wanted to ensure that no one could catch up to him, then he couldn’t settle for being slightly ahead—he had to be untouchable.
Jisoo let out a quiet breath, then pressed [NO].
Instantly, the world rippled around him.
The Tower’s system adjusted without delay, the dungeon resetting to its original state. The enemies, the ruins, even the air—it was as if nothing had happened.
His system let out a soft, amused chuckle.
“I didn’t expect less from you. Again.”
Jisoo smirked. "Then, let’s do this properly."
The second run was different.
Where before he had moved with careful caution, this time he moved with purpose.
His footwork adjusted instinctively, weaving between the goblins with sharper precision. His blade carved through their defenses in fluid arcs, no longer stiff or uncertain. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement.
He wasn’t just reacting—he was controlling the fight.
The second goblin barely had time to react before his sword cleaved through its shoulder, severing its momentum before it could even attempt to counter. The creatures were weak, but now he treated them as obstacles to be eliminated, not threats to be respected.
Every strike was cleaner, faster. His mind and body were finally in sync.
Minutes ticked by, and before he knew it, he was at the exit again.
A new time flashed in his interface.
[Final Clear Time: 12 minutes.]
Jisoo exhaled, a slow grin spreading across his lips.
Much better.
His system let out a satisfied hum.
“Now this… this is the standard you should set.”
A moment later, he felt it.
Not physically, not through sound or sight—but something unseen was watching him.
For a fraction of a second, the Tower’s system hesitated. As if…
It hadn’t expected this.
Jisoo’s gaze flickered upward toward the vast unseen presence lingering beyond the Tower’s mechanisms. Was it truly just a system? Or was there something more?
Whatever it was, he would find out.
For now, he had more floors to climb.
Jisoo stood at the exit of the first floor, his breathing steady, heart rate barely elevated. Twelve minutes. He had shattered the previous record, but he wasn’t done. The moment he confirmed his completion, the shimmering gateway ahead expanded, allowing him passage to the next floor. However, before stepping forward, he selected the option to hide his identity. He had no intention of letting the world know who he was just yet. With his anonymity secured, he moved ahead without hesitation.
The transition was seamless. As the next floor materialized around him, Jisoo found himself in a dimly lit corridor, the walls lined with aged stone and the scent of damp air lingering. This was where his true progression would begin.
The second floor’s enemies were slightly stronger—skeletal warriors, their hollow eye sockets flickering with eerie blue light. They wielded rusted weapons, yet moved with surprising precision.
Jisoo’s mind immediately filled with details.
**[Enemy Identified: Skeletal Warrior]
- Weak to blunt force trauma.
- Swords less effective due to lack of flesh.
- Magic-resistant to a small degree.
- Known for relentless attacks—best to strike joints to disable mobility.]**
The notes from his past life appeared as a system pop-up, reaffirming what he already knew. This was his advantage.
He moved in, weapon gripped firmly. His first strike connected—too shallow. The skeleton barely staggered. The lack of flesh made cutting ineffective, just as he had noted. But he had planned for this.
Adjusting, he aimed lower. A sharp kick to the knee joint.
The skeleton crumbled instantly.
Tch. Much better.
The battles progressed smoothly, but he was keenly aware of his own flaws. Despite knowing every detail about the Tower’s early floors, executing it perfectly was another challenge entirely. His footwork was still adjusting, his timing not yet instinctive.
But he adapted quickly. Faster than anyone else would.
Each fight refined his movements. Each opponent further aligned his mind and body, bridging the gap between knowledge and execution. And with Regressor’s Momentum in effect, his XP gains were massive.
His first level-up came before he even left the second floor.
[Level Up!]
A surge of energy pulsed through him, and immediately, he felt the difference. His muscles responded faster, his movements sharper. His reflexes, just slightly, were a step ahead of where they had been minutes ago.
This is what power feels like.
By the time he reached the third floor, Jisoo’s execution was nearly flawless. The monsters were barely obstacles—he was cutting through them faster, stronger, more efficiently.
Each enemy he faced triggered another system pop-up:
[Enemy Identified: Cave Wolf]
- Weakness: Eyes and throat.
- Highly agile, lunges in predictable patterns.
- Effective counter: Step left on first leap, strike downward mid-air.]
His past notes served as a guide, ensuring he never made the same mistakes as before. And yet, he wasn’t satisfied.
- His stance could be tighter.
- His sword arcs could be more precise.
- His decision-making could be faster.
Each floor, each enemy, was another opportunity to refine himself further.
His system took note of his relentless drive.
“You push beyond expectation. Others would celebrate—you're already looking ahead.”
He wasn’t here to celebrate. He was here to dominate.
By the time he reached floor four, his progress had become frighteningly efficient.
Every encounter ended in moments. His levels continued rising, his stats reflecting the exponential growth only possible through regression. His agility was sharper, his endurance lasting longer, his perception sharpening every second.
Jisoo exhaled as he reached the final staircase leading to the next challenge. His blade was steady, his breath controlled. The next floor would be different. He knew what was coming.
A grin ghosted across his lips.
It was time for his first real test.
Jisoo ascended to the fifth floor, his body vibrating with a mixture of adrenaline and anticipation. Each cleared floor had honed his instincts, refining his combat ability beyond what he had expected in such a short time. The time-based rewards and first-clear bonuses had been at the forefront of his mind since stepping into the Tower. He knew that clearing floors at a record pace would grant him superior rewards, and if there was one thing he refused to do, it was settle for mediocrity.
His breath steadied as he stepped forward, the entrance sealing behind him.
[Welcome to Floor 5 – Escape Trial Initiated]
A rush of wind swept through the dimly lit corridor ahead. Unlike the previous floors, which had followed a standard clear-and-advance format, this one was different.
Jisoo’s eyes flickered toward the objective displayed before him.
[Objective: Reach the exit before the Guardian catches you.]
He exhaled sharply. He remembered this floor well. One of the most deceptively difficult early trials in the Tower.
Most players in his past life had assumed it was a simple endurance run. The idea was straightforward: a monstrous beast would awaken the moment challengers stepped forward, and they had to reach the other side of the floor before it caught them.
But that was the problem.
People underestimated just how fast the Guardian was.
It wasn’t some slow-moving brute that bellowed and stomped around mindlessly. It was a hunter. It was built for the chase.
Many had died here. Even seasoned players had fallen victim to its deceptive speed, dragged screaming into the darkness before they ever reached the exit.
Jisoo tightened his grip on his weapon. He knew the safest route.
If he followed his past knowledge, he could weave through the broken corridors, keep his stamina balanced, and push forward in bursts at just the right moments to avoid its pursuit.
His legs tensed, ready to spring the moment the trial started. He knew what was coming.
Then—hesitation.
A memory surfaced. Something only uncovered much later in his past life.
The hidden objective.
Very few had discovered it, and even fewer had ever claimed the reward. Most who attempted it had died.
[Hidden Objective: Eliminate the Guardian before reaching the exit.]
It was absurd. No one at this stage was supposed to be strong enough to do it.
This wasn’t just a chase; it was a fight against a monster that even veteran Awakened had struggled to face.
His instincts screamed at him to run, to clear the trial the way everyone else had, to take the safe path.
But Jisoo had never intended to follow the path of the weak.
He exhaled, his fingers loosening, then tightening around his weapon. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from anticipation.
The Guardian would chase him the moment he moved. That much was inevitable.
But instead of running, he would turn and face it.
A smirk ghosted across his lips.
“Let’s see if I’m really not supposed to win this fight.”
The moment his foot moved, the world reacted.
The ground trembled—not a distant quake, but something alive, responding to his presence.
From the abyss, a guttural growl reverberated through the air. Heavy, unhurried footsteps followed. A presence too big for the darkness it hid within.
Then, it moved.
The chase had begun.