I Conquered the Tower with the EX-Class Character That I Raised - Chapter 23
—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————
Chapter 23
“I did it….”
Han Seol-ah collapsed where she stood.
Having been pushed to the absolute limits of concentration in the face of death, the exhaustion that followed was only natural.
‘Phew. Success.’
I too felt cold sweat trickling down my spine.
The aftermath of using Absolute Zero left my synchronization still unusable.
In other words, my body remained in the pathetic state of an unawakened individual.
If Han Seol-ah had made even the slightest mistake and triggered a mana storm?
I would have been reduced to minced meat.
To prepare for such a worst-case scenario, I had procured an earring-type life-saving artifact from the Black Market….
‘But even using it offered no guarantee of survival.’
A life-saving artifact was not invincibility.
Activating it at the epicenter of a mana storm would have done little more than salvage a tattered corpse.
Had fortune turned against me, I might have left a limb or two behind in the afterlife.
So it was best to conserve it whenever possible.
Better yet, to never need it at all.
“Let’s go back.”
“…Yes!”
* * *
Inside the silent mana-stone helicopter.
Han Seol-ah kept glancing sideways, gauging my mood.
Her face bore the expression of someone desperate to ask something but unable to find the words.
I too was burning with curiosity.
It would have been convenient to check the System Message, but unfortunately, in an unawakened state, the System Message remains invisible.
‘At least ten days… it seems like it should have increased by that much.’
I couldn’t ask first.
If the Apostle—the one who knows and guides everything—were caught fumbling over a single System Message, it would be problematic.
I deliberately broached the subject with an air of indifference.
“If you have something to say, speak.”
“Ah, well….”
Han Seol-ah hesitated before opening her mouth.
“Is this… really enough?”
“Enough for what?”
“The System Message appeared, but… the timeframe seems far shorter than expected.”
Interesting.
I leaned back casually, turning her question back on her.
“So you think it’s short?”
“Yes? Ah, well… fifteen days seems far too little time to prepare for the next break, doesn’t it….”
She had taken the bait.
‘Fifteen days.’
I had anticipated ten.
But fifteen?
‘Jackpot.’
Five additional days beyond my expectations—a generous buffer.
I barely suppressed the smile threatening to break across my face.
“That’s sufficient.”
“Ah….”
“More than enough time for me.”
* * *
The moment I arrived at the Appraisal Center, which had become little more than a makeshift conference room, I issued instructions to Han Seol-ah.
“Call the other two as well.”
“Ah, yes! I’ll contact them right away.”
As Han Seol-ah diligently tapped away at her terminal, the Appraisal Center’s door swung open.
A solitary unfamiliar figure awaited inside.
A woman in crisp formal attire, her gaze sharp and piercing.
“Welcome.”
It was Song Director—Min Ji-hee’s closest aide and the Hunter Association’s secretary-general.
Upon seeing me, she bowed respectfully.
“Apostle. The Association Chairman and Vice-Chairman should arrive shortly. What refreshments may I prepare for you?”
“Just water.”
“Understood.”
Song Director arranged a glass of water with economical precision, then withdrew quietly through the rear exit.
Though her appearance was brief, her presence alone transformed this space into what it truly was—a vital nerve center of the Hunter Association.
Moments later.
The door burst open, and Jin Cheon-jin and Min Ji-hee hurried inside.
“You’ve done well.”
“Thanks to you, we can finally breathe.”
The expressions on all three faces were… unmistakably composed.
Han Seol-ah’s countenance in particular radiated the triumph of accomplishment,
while Jin Cheon-jin and Min Ji-hee both bore the unmistakable relief of those whose doomsday countdown had been halted.
Perhaps it was because they now possessed something—someone—to lean upon.
Or perhaps it was the tangible benefit of those fifteen days they had secured.
Either way, their expressions were far superior to panic, despair, or resignation.
But.
I needed to pour cold water on their optimism.
I fixed Jin Cheon-jin with an expressionless gaze.
“It’s still insufficient. You understand that, don’t you?”
“….”
Jin Cheon-jin’s smile gradually froze.
Min Ji-hee set down her teacup as well, composing her expression.
The relief that had lingered moments before evaporated in an instant, and the conference room’s atmosphere grew heavy once more.
Looking at the results alone.
The original thirty-day break period had been reduced to fifteen days.
Jin Cheon-jin’s despair—that the Tower desired South Korea’s destruction—was an ongoing reality.
“Just because I postponed the date doesn’t mean the Quest is complete. My objective has always been the ‘salvation of South Korea.'”
“…I am grateful for your mercy.”
Jin Cheon-jin bowed his head heavily.
Right.
I needed to maintain this level of tension.
“There’s something you’re all misunderstanding.”
More precisely, it was Jin Cheon-jin’s misunderstanding.
But Han Seol-ah, and probably Min Ji-hee as well, were likely trapped in the same misconception.
“The Tower doesn’t desire South Korea’s destruction.”
“…Then why….”
It was an understandable mistake to make.
That’s what the Tower was to them.
Not something that could be cleared.
Merely an evil that imposed trials and encouraged ruin.
Wrong.
The Tower doesn’t operate that way.
“It desires the conquest of the Korean Tower.”
Don’t conquer it?
Then perish.
That was the Tower’s exact stance.
If you don’t break the Tower, you’ll eventually be destroyed.
The Tower ensures it.
But if you do break the Tower?
…You can definitively halt this process of destruction.
“There is a way.”
I struck the table sharply as I spoke.
In this moment alone.
I needed to exude more confidence than anyone else on Earth.
I had to project that image.
Controlling my breathing carefully, I continued.
“The key lies in two things.”
“I’m listening.”
Min Ji-hee’s eyes gleamed.
Like a predator stalking prey, she seemed determined to catch and absorb every word that left my lips without missing a single sound.
Her gaze was intensely piercing, almost overwhelming.
‘Wow… that gaze is absolutely fierce.’
Perhaps because she was a transcendent being, her focus was terrifyingly intense.
“One of them is the Resonance Entity, Resonar.”
“…The boss that appears in the next break, correct?”
“That’s right. We’re going to subjugate that creature.”
Resonar was… naturally, a monster I already knew about.
A boss mob that could be summoned and defeated in Lost Honor’s ‘Interdimensional Gate’.
But its patterns were so absurdly complicated that it was a mob I avoided hunting unless absolutely necessary.
Comparing the difficulty to subjugating Scathach, it was extraordinarily challenging.
But compared to clearing the 94th Floor of the Tower, it became remarkably easier.
The Tower’s difficulty scaling was quite exquisite.
“What… kind of boss is it?”
Min Ji-hee asked cautiously.
“Hmm? You don’t know?”
“….”
Wait, what’s this?
The monster compendium would be published by the Hunter Association.
And it doesn’t contain information about Resonar?
“Why don’t you know?”
“…I apologize….”
“No, there’s nothing to apologize for. I’m curious about the reason.”
Min Ji-hee answered, her face flushing slightly.
“Information about the first boss to appear in the Korean Tower does not exist in the compendium.”
“Hmm.”
“Since the break hasn’t occurred yet, it’s an entity that hasn’t even been witnessed. There’s no data on it.”
Ah.
I see.
To me, Resonar was a boss I’d hunted countless times in the game, so I had sufficient information, but reality was different.
How could they know about a creature that hasn’t even appeared yet?
“Pandemonium does deal in information… but even they require at least a ‘name’ or ‘photograph’ of the entity before they’ll share data.”
In other words…
Mobs whose very existence is uncertain would never be registered in the compendium.
‘Pandemonium….’
What kind of place was this that could uncover information about monsters?
“I see… so you don’t know either.”
“…Now that we’ve confirmed the entity name ‘Resonar’, if we submit a request to Pandemonium….”
“That won’t work.”
Jin Cheon-jin cut in sharply.
“Master, Pandemonium demands extraordinarily precious things in exchange for information. Because of that, most of the artifacts we possessed have already been handed over to Pandemonium.”
“….”
“The problem is that South Korea no longer has any financial capacity to pay for information. They’ve already liquidated every last artifact….”
Jin Cheon-jin’s gaze brushed past Min Ji-hee’s ear.
Without thinking, I followed the direction of his stare…
‘Wait. Min Ji-hee’s earring is gone.’
So that’s the ‘information price’?
‘…Hold on.’
I recalled the earring-type life-saving artifact I’d recently exchanged for at the Black Market and stashed in my pocket.
When I first saw it, I’d thought it seemed somehow familiar.
‘Could this possibly be… Min Ji-hee’s?’
I had no idea why an artifact that appeared to have fallen into Pandemonium’s hands was in the Black Market.
But this situation was taking a peculiar turn.
Jin Cheon-jin clenched his teeth.
“They’ll probably demand Han Seol-ah this time.”
“…Really?”
Han Seol-ah was visibly startled.
“Yes. Those bastards have even demanded through Kim Min-seok before that you be handed over in exchange for them taking down the Frost Dragon.”
“Those snakes wouldn’t dare…!”
Bang!
Min Ji-hee slammed the table, her fury unleashed.
Gone was her usual composure—only murderous intent remained.
“P-please calm yourself, Vice-Chairman.”
“….”
At Jin Cheon-jin’s restraint, Min Ji-hee steadied her ragged breathing.
“Phew….”
She brushed back her disheveled bangs and donned her cold mask once more.
“Yes. My apologies.”
The shift was so swift it made me wonder if her rage had been an act.
It was chilling.
“We’ll need to negotiate for something else.”
“Hmm….”
“Without obtaining strategy information on Resonar, we cannot establish a suppression operation. We need to know what kind of boss it is.”
At this moment, I quietly raised my hand.
The three of them immediately fell silent, their attention fixed on me.
“There’s no need.”
“…Apostle.”
“I already know.”
Absolute certainty.
The boss that will emerge this time is the Resonar I already know.
The name Resonar itself isn’t common, and considering that…
…the full title that came with it—’the Wondrous Echo—Resonance Entity Resonar’—made it even more certain.
It’s definitely that Resonar from Lost Honor.
“I’ll prepare the strategy for conquering Resonar.”
“Apostle…!”
The eyes of all three gleamed with brilliant light.
Han Seol-ah is… quite beautiful.
Min Ji-hee naturally sparkles when she activates her abilities.
…Seeing Jin Cheon-jin react like that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“What would you have us do?”
“There are three things I need.”
* * *
“That’s all. You understand, yes?”
“Yes. I understand. However….”
I understood the operational overview perfectly.
What roles the Hunters, Han Seol-ah, Jin Cheon-jin, and Min Ji-hee herself would take on, and what each needed to do….
But there was one thing that troubled me.
‘Why exactly?’
“However?”
“…No, nothing. I’ll proceed as you’ve commanded.”
“Good. Then we’ll meet here again in three days.”
With those words, the Apostle walked away with a swish of his robes.
Jin Cheon-jin stared blankly at the closed door, then shuffled forward with a bewildered expression.
He called out to Min Ji-hee, grasping at straws.
“…Dear.”
“Ah, Association Chairman.”
“Explain this to me. What on earth was he talking about? I didn’t understand any of it.”
“Ah… so you didn’t understand.”
“Right, I said I don’t understand.”
“Heh.”
“…?”
Min Ji-hee couldn’t help but laugh.
Perhaps it was because she’d been thinking intently about the Apostle.
Before she knew it, she’d even begun mimicking his cryptic manner of speaking.
“Ah, my apologies. You remember what the three things were, don’t you?”
“Yes. First, maintain full mobilization. Second, gather the tanks in one location and keep them ready for deployment at any time. And the third was….”
“‘Prepare one of the highest-performance latest-model Hunter Watches with complete preservation of all past records and fast computational processing.'”
“Exactly.”
Min Ji-hee began her analysis, examining each point carefully.
“The first and second are tactical deployments, so they’re not difficult to understand. The problem is the third.”
“Right. That’s what I couldn’t understand either.”
Jin Cheon-jin tilted his head in confusion.
“Aren’t Hunter Watches commonplace? I could just hand over one of the standard-issue models gathering dust in the Hunter Association warehouse, yet you’re specifying exact specifications.”
A Hunter Watch.
A wristband-like terminal with a small panel that Hunters wear on their wrists.
Linked to a Hunter’s account, it enables convenient payment at convenience stores and equipment shops, and allows communication with allies in urgent situations—a sort of ‘compact smartphone’ that serves as a practical tool.
For ordinary Hunters, a Watch held precisely that level of significance.
An accessory that aided daily convenience rather than combat support.
But the specifications the Apostle demanded could not be satisfied by such a standard-issue Watch.
“The Apostle requested ‘perfectly preserved records of the past.'”
Min Ji-hee’s eyes gleamed with sharp intensity.
“Ordinary Watch system logs are merely ‘volatile memory’—automatically deleted after a few days due to storage constraints, or vanishing the moment a confirmation button is pressed. But what the Apostle wanted was ‘permanent preservation.'”
“Then….”
“Yes. A Watch with the capability to access every single log scattered across the entire globe from the past ten years since the Hunter era began, without a single omission.”
“Equipment with such insane specifications….”
“…remarkably, does exist. Exactly one.”
Min Ji-hee swallowed hard.
“A project I’ve been developing in strict secrecy: ‘Snow White.'”
Goosebumps erupted across Min Ji-hee’s spine.
The Apostle already knew of this classified project, one whose prototype hadn’t even been publicly revealed.
“But… why would that be necessary? What use would a high-performance computing device or records from ten years ago have in capturing Resonar right now?”
“….”
To Jin Cheon-jin’s question, Min Ji-hee fell silent for a moment.
A demand for transcendent specifications far beyond an ordinary convenience tool.
Puzzle pieces in her mind rapidly clicked into place.
The absence of information about Resonar.
Pandemonium monopolizing that information.
And the Apostle’s demand for ‘all records of the past.'”
“…Pandemonium.”
“Hmm?”
“Why could Pandemonium monopolize information and sell it at premium prices? Because they’ve been accumulating every system log since right after the Tower opened.”
“Right, that’s true.”
“It seems the Apostle intends to seize Pandemonium’s library entirely.”
Min Ji-hee’s voice, brimming with conviction, resonated through the conference room.
“Rather than relying on Pandemonium, directly analyzing past data to discover future conquest strategies… changing the paradigm of information itself. That’s what I believe.”
“Huh….”
Jin Cheon-jin’s mouth fell open.
‘Solving Break leads to restructuring the world’s information order?’
The will of the supreme being seemed to possess a depth that mortals could scarcely fathom.
“…We need to prepare immediately.”
“Yes. I’ll contact the research facility. We’ll have to work through the night to complete the final product.”
Though her answer came with outward confidence, deep within Min Ji-hee’s mind, a chilling doubt writhed restlessly.
‘…Is this really all there is?’
If it’s not everything? Just how far am I seeing?
Min Ji-hee swallowed the rest of her words.
* * *
“Surely you’re not giving me some cheap, standard-issue Hunter Watch like Chul-soo uses?”
A Hunter Watch.
Absolutely essential.
Without synchronization enabled, I can’t even check System Messages.
I felt just how frustrating that was today, down to my bones.
But I didn’t want to receive some cheap, standard-issue model like Chul-soo’s.
I’d seen him countless times grumbling at the watch, saying things like, “Ugh, this piece of garbage! It’s lagging again!”
“Top-tier, latest model. It’s essential for an early adopter like me.”
In truth, it’s a matter of survival.
Missing even a single message could mean death.
But more important than that was….
The golden rule: when buying electronics, you buy the most expensive and the best the first time around!
Keyboards, mice, all sorts of other devices—they’re all the same.
The moment you compromise and grab something cheap, you fall into the ‘infinite regret trap’, thinking every time you use it afterward, ‘Ah, I should’ve just spent more and bought the expensive one back then’…!
The wisest way to prevent double spending.
Go all-out from the start.
Learned from experience.
“Lulu.”
I returned home in high spirits.
“Hehehehe….”
The moment I opened the door, a monitor greeted me with its glow.
A reward window was displayed on the screen.
[Do you wish to complete the Quest and claim your reward?]
[1. Yes] [2. No]
The reward claim message I’d rejected before.
This time was no different.
‘Are you insane? I’ll claim it here.’
I firmly selected ‘No’.
Ding—!
Then, as if updating, a new message appeared.
With a racing heart, I checked the newly displayed message.
[Hidden Quest: Reprieve of Ruin completed]
“That’s it!”
The condition was satisfied.
The System had finally recognized my achievement as ‘salvation’ rather than mere ‘subjugation’.
The reward list that followed.
[Reward]
[Constellation Corridor – ‘Achievement’ Unlocked]
[Possession Ticket]
Up to this point, it was the same as before.
But beneath it, a new line had appeared.
The ‘real’ reward I had waited for so long was radiating with brilliant light.
[Constellation Corridor – ‘Codex’ Unlocked] (new!)
“Yes… this is it.”
A thrilling chill raced down my spine.
Had I succumbed to temptation and simply accepted the subjugation reward, this line would never have appeared.
This was a perfect victory born from my patience and information gathering.
“This is me.”
Now!
Let me confirm it!
—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————