Climbing the Tower with Multidimensional Avatars - Chapter 149

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 149. Galaxy Martial God Hall – School Trip (3)

It was the kind of look that said, as if you wouldn’t already know this.
Of course I did know it.
It was something I’d learned while being drilled relentlessly by Riven.
“A spacecraft’s own velocity is slower than light. At best, five times the speed of sound is the maximum, right?”
That was true for passenger vessels, but military warships could reach up to 0.01 percent the speed of light.
0.01 percent of light speed was thirty kilometers per second.
Five times the speed of sound was roughly two kilometers per second, which meant warships could move fifteen times faster.
To my answer, Cheon Gong-hu, seated behind me, asked a question.
“Then how do you arrive faster than light?”
“Simply put, we travel through spatial displacement. Using the Galaxy Unified Warp Drive System—Space Folding—to follow a four-dimensional cosmic route lets us travel much faster.”
I picked up a pamphlet to explain simply, pointing to its two ends.
“If this is the departure point and this is the destination, traveling straight means going like this.”
I traced my finger across the width of the pamphlet.
“But if you fold it like this.”
I curved the pamphlet and brought its ends together, forming a circle.
“You only need to travel this distance.”
With the destination and departure point now nearly touching, arrival became far quicker.
“Of course, you can’t do this everywhere—cosmic navigation and four-dimensional rules determine where and when space can be folded. If a heavy mass like a planet gets too close, folding becomes impossible. Even if you try, major accidents result.”
The boys around me, at an age that found such things fascinating, began peppering me with questions.
My head ached from straining to explain everything simply enough for elementary school students to understand.
After explaining until my throat grew dry, the spacecraft suddenly reached its destination, and an announcement asking everyone to fasten their seatbelts crackled through the cabin.
Everyone took their seats and fastened their belts as instructed, and the stewardess confirmed their safety before sending out a radio signal.
Shortly after, I felt a sudden sensation, as if I’d dropped from a gyrodrop, my body weightless and then plummeting toward the ground.
“Ow! The seatbelt’s twisted and it hurts! Can’t we undo it?”
Cheon Ha-sung had fastened his seatbelt hastily, twisting it once around, and was now complaining of pain.
I said to him, “Just bear it with your internal energy. If you undo that seatbelt now, you’ll smash into the ceiling.”
Of course, seatbelts were locked during atmospheric ascent and descent so you’d have to destroy them to unfasten them anyway.
Once the spacecraft touched down safely at the landing pad, the captain’s arrival announcement came through.

The stewardesses calmly guided the students off from the interior outward.
The children were fidgeting, eager to disembark quickly, but I leisurely touched my brooch to activate the screen and read a magic book I’d scanned onto my mobile device.
“Oh, there’s signal here too? They must have a base station.”
Lately, real-time calls were possible within the same star system, so apparently even regions close to other star systems operated base stations.
In fact, communication systems used light waves, and through even a star-system unified warp drive—not quite galaxy-wide—it was entirely possible to exchange signals in real time.
Building a communication network across the entire galaxy was almost impossible because galaxies were too vast.
The only way different star systems could communicate in real time was through the hotlines maintained by each major sect.
Stepping out of the spacecraft, an expanse of pristine snow stretched before us.
“Snow as far as the eye can see.”
I felt a flicker of unease—surely they wouldn’t make us do training rolls in a snowfield during a school trip?
While I was worrying slightly, the other children caught sight of the snow and immediately broke into a snowball fight, causing chaos.
Our school’s region had mild weather year-round, much like where our family home was, so winter rarely brought heavy snowfall.
Even when it did snow, it never accumulated much.
So naturally the children found it fascinating and couldn’t resist playing with the snow.
“Look over there! That must be the resort where we’re staying!”
In the distance, a resort with a bright red exterior came into view.
It looked as though the color had been chosen to make it easily identifiable, even if one got lost in the snowy wilderness.
“Everyone grab your luggage and head to the accommodations.”
At Teacher Kim Do-hwa’s words, the homeroom teachers began controlling their students and preparing to move.

“Intelligence confirms Cheonmu Elementary School’s field trip to this location.”
The janitor’s left eye had an artificial eye with an optical lens inserted, allowing him to see from kilometers away as clearly as if standing directly before it.
He was a cyborg with parts of his body replaced by machinery.
Watching a female student descend from the spacecraft, the janitor spoke.
“Primary target confirmed among the group.”
A voice audible only to him crackled through the speaker embedded in the janitor’s ear.

—Confirmed on our end. Even without Cheonmu backing, just her looks would command serious demand. She’ll be a rare beauty once she’s grown.

The janitor and his associates’ “primary” target was Cheon So-yeon.
Primary meant lower priority, but there were other objectives as well.
“Leave the chitchat for later. Is there any separate security detail?”

—From what we’ve confirmed, despite the resort being chartered exclusively by Cheonmu Elementary School, there are clearly non-Cheonmu guests still staying here.

“Tch. The Cheon Family Clan sent covert protection.”
They had been undercover here for nearly three years, waiting.

—With the whole place chartered, we can’t bring in additional support. Covert security makes this a pain in the ass.

Originally, the undercover operatives would have served as the vanguard, making preparations, and when the students arrived, the reinforcements would follow, posing as resort guests. But Cheonmu Elementary School chartered the entire resort, making it difficult to receive additional support.
Since the resort was built with sponsorship from the Cheon Family Clan, they could hardly refuse the Cheon Family’s wishes, and with the low season now and the school covering all rooms and amenities, they welcomed it with open arms.
The Cheon Family Clan owned the resort anyway, so refusing was impossible; besides, the school had paid for every room and service during the slack season, making this a windfall.
“It just means the operation takes longer and is more bothersome. All preparations are already complete. The reinforcements were only meant to secure escape routes—they don’t need to come to the resort itself.”
Everything was already in place. Now it was simply a matter of timing the operation.
Of course, they’d need to assess the covert protection’s capabilities first, but that shouldn’t pose any real problem.
“Heh-heh-heh. I hope they have an enjoyable trip.”
The janitor watched the children arriving at the resort and smiled with sinister satisfaction.

* * *

The moment they entered the resort, the teachers assigned rooms to each group by class.
Despite the resort being quite spacious, they assigned one room per group with four students per room—not because of budget, but for easier supervision.
After all, there’s no telling where these wild ones might wander off to.
“The teachers get single rooms, so why do we get a four-person room?”
At Cheon Ha-sung’s complaint, Cheon Bu-hyeon chuckled and replied.
“Why? Having flashbacks to dormitory four-person nightmares?”
“Hey! I never lived in a four-person room! I had a three-person room!”
In fourth year, Cheon Ha-sung had trashed a dormitory so badly he’d nearly been demoted to a four-person room, but thanks to a club petition citing his championship in the inter-school competition, he’d ended up in a three-person room instead.
Four-person rooms were for problem students who got into trouble at school, while three-person rooms were for lower-ranked students.
Single rooms went to the top ten; two-person rooms to seventy-five percent of the student body; three-person rooms to the bottom ten to twenty percent.
As such, three-person rooms had students with lower martial ranks but virtually no behavior problems.
Most troublemakers ended up in four-person rooms, so three-person residents were just quiet, athletically untalented kids.
If it hadn’t been for my good fortune, I’d be living in the dormitory and attending school with students like them.
According to medical assessments, even if I consumed elixirs until adulthood, my actual physical talent would cap out at first-rate at best.
Cheon Ha-sung had only used the three-person room for one semester, then moved to a two-person room the next semester, and reclaimed a single room after that.
Still, the near-demotion to four-person seemed to have left a mark—he’s never trashed the dormitory to the point of getting demerits, though he’s not exactly meticulous either.
“Still, the room’s plenty spacious and nice.”
The resort room was a family suite with a small living room, two separate bedrooms, and a bathroom with a shower.
“Each bedroom has two beds, so it’s really two rooms for two people. How should we split up?”
At my question, Cheon Bu-hyeon and Cheon Gong-hu both pointed at me simultaneously.
“I want to share a room with Ji-woo.”
“I’ll go with Ji-woo.”
At their choices, I looked at Cheon Ha-sung.
“How badly did you trash that dormitory…”
“I didn’t! I’m neat now, I swear!”
Well, I’m not sure about Cheon Bu-hyeon, but Cheon Gong-hu is timid and has no other same-sex friends besides me, so he probably picked me for that reason.
Cheon Bu-hyeon seems to be avoiding Cheon Ha-sung because he trashed the dorm.
“Fine, I’ll share with Cheon Ha-sung. Noble me sacrifices myself like this.”
“Sharing a room with me is a punishment?”
At my words and Cheon Ha-sung’s, Cheon Gong-hu and Cheon Bu-hyeon exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.
“Ah, understood.”
“Then let’s do that.”
Cheon Bu-hyeon rummaged through his carry-on and produced something, which he handed to me.
“Use these when you sleep.”
They were disposable vinyl-packaged earplugs.
“Don’t tell me you snore when you sleep?”
Cheon Ha-sung averted his gaze at my question.
“The guy who roomed with him complained to the dorm supervisor that he couldn’t sleep and begged to be moved to a four-person room instead.”
Cheon Gong-hu nodded, evidently aware of this fact already.
But Cheon Gong-hu wasn’t even a dormitory student—how did he know?
Ah, Cheon Ga-ryeong. He must have heard it from that chatty gossip who knows everyone.
“Just bear with it for five days. You’re heading home on the sixth, anyway.”
Cheon Bu-hyeon patted my shoulder sympathetically. He clearly had no intention of switching rooms.
Well, it wasn’t a real problem—I could just block out the sound with magic.
After we’d dropped our bags and were trading jokes for a while, an announcement came on about lunch.

—Ahem, this is the student supervisor broadcasting. Lunch period is now in effect. All students are to assemble in the Central Hall on the first floor. I repeat: all students are to assemble in the Central Hall on the first floor.

The school had rented out the entire resort, so apparently they could operate the broadcast system however they pleased.
As we made our way down via the central staircase toward the first floor where the dining area was located, girls came streaming down from the upper floors.
Naturally, they’d separated boys and girls by floor entirely.
“Hey, what are we doing after we eat? Can we use the ski slope?”
Cheon Ha-sung asked me, and I checked the school trip itinerary before answering.
“It says ski slope access hours begin tomorrow.”
It also mentioned that anyone interested could take lessons in skiing or snowboarding.
“Today’s afternoon activity is… treasure hunt, it says here?”
Upon hearing the itinerary, Cheon Ha-sung laced his fingers behind his head and groaned.
“Ugh, come on. We’re not kids.”
“Right, right. Not kids.”
Cheon Bu-hyeon nodded in agreement with Cheon Ha-sung’s sentiment.
“Actually, we’re still kids though, aren’t we?”
“Hey now! If you go through life thinking that way, you’ll stay young forever! You have to always think of yourself as an adult—that’s how you truly become one!”
It was a remarkably childish thing to say.
We chatted as we made our way downstairs to the first floor.

(To be continued)

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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