[Welcome to Floor 14.]

I moved my legs.

I walked forward slowly and sat down on the chair in front of me, leaning my body forward as I did.

"......."

Cold sweat gathered on my forehead. I couldn't think about anything.

The headache kept expanding its territory.

My senses dulled, and the world seemed to drift away. My body was here, but my mind felt like it was being sucked into some deep abyss.

My vision darkened.

Why. Why did Ban give up the duel—for my sake?

[You have been awarded 2,000 coins for clearing Floor 13.]

[As a Pandemonium Floor 13 reward, an item has been granted. Please check your ‘Inventory.’]

[‘Player – Han Yuseong’ Score for Stage 13 is being calculated.]

Normally, those notification windows would appear right after clearing the stage, before leaving the area. Only now were they surfacing in my mind.

The existing Floor 13 rankings appeared in the corner of my vision.

1st – Union Leader: 956 points

2nd – Black Star: 901 points

3rd – Black Hand: 879 points

4th – In Pursuit: 841 points

5th – Sinclair: 813 points

⋮

⋮

Of course, as always, I had no interest in anyone else’s ranking score.

[Han Yuseong: 5,786 points]

Even my own score window now felt like nothing more than a pointless numbers game.

[Would you like to register your Floor 13 score?]

[Y / N]

I declined without a moment's hesitation. There were no longer any rewards tied to ranking starting from Floor 13.

No reason to put my name and score on a leaderboard.

I took out a dry towel from my inventory and wiped the sweat off.

The conversation I had just had with Second-Class Administrator Plishek was swirling in my head.

So Floor 13 was absolutely impossible to clear solo, and that’s why Ban Iner had been revived specifically for that floor?

That explanation was riddled with inconsistencies.

After all, Pandemonium was a tower with 0% survival rate.

And it wasn’t just this Floor 13—it had always been impossible to handle alone, from the very first floor up to the thirteenth.

To my reaction—

—Well, you’re right, of course.

Plishek had agreed with me, then added a few words. And those words kept echoing in my mind.

I kept chewing on them.

—The order to ‘renew’ this Floor 13. The conditional revival of Player Ban Iner, a former participant, solely for this stage to increase the probability of a successful clear and correct the error.

—It was a direct decision from the Pandemonium Tower itself.

—We were surprised, too. It’s exceedingly rare for the Tower to express its will so directly.

—How could a low-ranking administrator like me go against a decision made by the Tower—one that even the highest administrators are wary of?

The Tower. Even these damned notification windows must be part of the Tower's system.

The same messages that had once seemed harmless now made me feel sick.

What the hell did you summon me to this cursed tower for?

Even though I clearly had the strength to move my hands, I had no will to do anything.

Ban. We were only together for a few days.

So why did you give up the chance to live again—just for me?

Sure, that time meant something to me too. It was precious enough that I wouldn’t trade even a second of it.

But humans—if you’re human, isn’t your own life important?

Suddenly, Ban Iner’s voice surfaced in my mind, along with a conversation we had two days ago.

—Yuseong, do you think we can keep climbing together?

—There’s one root left, the sixth. We’ve got to climb it together.

I thought that smile of yours back then was just from feeling good. But now that I think about it, it didn’t feel like that kind of smile at all.

—Yeah. We have to climb it together.

That was your answer as you slung an arm around my shoulders. You must’ve already known that, even if we took down the sixth root, we couldn’t stay together.

Suddenly, a red-layered system window I’d never seen before popped up in front of me.

[Warning! ‘Player – Han Yuseong’ Emotional Status – ‘Depression’ level has risen sharply.]

[From Pandemonium Floor 14 onward, player mental care services are available!]

[An Emotional Therapy Administrator will be dispatched to the floor’s waiting room.]

What kind of bullshit is this?

Right after the message disappeared—

Crackle!

A rupture tore open in the air.

[Third-Class Administrator – Yueerit]

A figure appeared, shrouded in a defensive barrier similar to the one that had blocked my way during the duel arena.

Layer upon layer of protective shields completely obscured the being inside. My body moved reflexively.

‘Administrator.’

That damned word triggered me.

Boom!

My outstretched right fist shattered the shield into fragments. Unlike the last damned wall, it broke apart pretty easily.

The inner figure still wasn’t visible.

Crack!

After smashing one more barrier with my left hand, I finally saw the figure inside.

It was a woman with her eyes covered by a white cloth, like a blindfold.

Long pink hair fluttered behind her.

"What are you?"

"I am the emotional therapy administrator available from Floor 14 of Pandemonium onward. I am dispatched mainly to treat depression or trauma among players."

Yueerit added,

"The recommended treatment for Player Han Yuseong at this time is pharmaceutical. The first consultation is free. I suggest the Smile Compound. It ensures that happiness levels exceed all other emotional indicators under any circumstance."

Smile... what?

I was stunned.

"...What basis are you using to prescribe this stuff?"

"I do not know what experiences Player Han Yuseong has gone through. I prescribe medications based solely on your current emotional levels."

Yueerit spoke in a consistently low monotone.

"You may refuse the prescription. It is not mandatory."

She sounded mechanical.

"Emotions are often diluted with the passage of time."

And that made me even more irritated.

There was no point dragging this out with someone who didn’t know anything about me.

"Get lost."

Yueerit bowed her head.

"I apologize for being summoned without your consent on my first dispatch. If you press the new ‘Emotion Therapy’ request button at the bottom right of the Coin Shop starting from Floor 14, you may request a session with me at any time."

Now I was a little curious how much this administrator actually knew.

"Then screw all that. Can I ask you something else?"

Yueerit nodded.

"Ordinarily, I am restricted from discussing anything other than emotional treatment. However, Player Han Yuseong is classified as a High-Attention Priority Tier player. Some Q&A is permissible."

She added,

"From a 21st-century Earth perspective, you would be considered a VVIP member. I can answer within the limits of what I know."

No matter how they framed it, being high-profile didn’t sound like a good thing.

"First question: Is it possible to kill an administrator?"

"Yes."

Yueerit nodded.

"You can kill us on-stage. However, in the waiting room, it’s impossible. Even if struck directly, we don’t feel pain."

You ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) can kill them on the stage. She sure gave that information casually.

"If the Tower is truly a living entity, does that mean I can eventually talk to it as I climb?"

"That question is outside my jurisdiction, but I believe you’ll find out if you continue climbing."

A vague answer, but one that leaned toward yes.

Then I pulled out the third question I'd originally intended to ask.

"Is there a way to resurrect a dead player?"

This time, the answer didn’t come immediately like the others.

"That is beyond my authority and knowledge."

This one wasn’t even vague. It was a flat-out no-comment. But that was enough.

It was better than hearing “absolutely impossible.”

For now.

"If you have no further questions, I will now take my leave."

"Yeah, go."

"You can summon me at any time while in the waiting room."

Despite saying that, Yueerit still hadn’t vanished.

"Depression is rapidly converting into anger, as confirmed by emotional data."

So she still had something to say.

"Anger can be effective for short-term relief from depression, but if it continues, it will consume you from the inside."

With that, Yueerit finally tore through space and disappeared.

Depression converting to anger, huh. I couldn’t deny it.

Because it was true.

To drag myself up from this emotional sewer, I had to set a goal.

First, keep climbing.

Keep going until I can have a chat with this so-called living Tower bastard.

I picked up the item at the front of my inventory.

It was a quiver. The one Ban Iner had given me.

Tap.

I looked inside the quiver. I touched each of the arrows one by one.

"What the...?"

There was something else—not arrows. In the corner of the quiver.

I pulled it out.

A tiny white pouch.

[Small Subspace Pouch]

Untie the knot to see the items inside.

I had never placed this in the quiver. I’d never even acquired a subspace pouch before.

—Hey, that quiver. I gave it to you as a gift, so take care of it, yeah? Don’t just go tossing it around like you’re never gonna use it.

I recalled the moment Ban had handed me the quiver before we entered the sixth root.

I untied the pouch’s knot. It opened, and the items inside spilled out.

The most eye-catching item was a book. A swordsmanship manual for Fielbürte—the style Ban Iner had used.

I opened to the first page of the manual.

There was writing.

—Han Yuseong.

—I’ll make the kind of choice I won’t regret.

That was all it said. Just those two lines. I couldn’t help but laugh.

The sentence was so vivid, it was like I could hear her saying it. It was unmistakably Ban Iner.

"I don’t get it. Not yet."

Why did you give up a duel you had a chance of surviving?

If she left something at the beginning of the manual, maybe there’d be something at the end too. That instinct was right.

—Don’t give up.

"Yeah."

Of course not.

I revisited the fight on Floor 13. My thoughts kept circling back to Ban Iner.

And every time, it made it harder to think straight.

But I believed it was something I had to keep chewing on.

A day passed, and morning came.

Even after sleeping, my head wasn’t any clearer.

I took out a baseball from my inventory and rolled it in my hand.

I composed myself.

Time to move forward. I have to keep moving.

Only now was I finally ready to take out the Transcendent Gallery terminal.

"What a mess."

—You alive???? Climber dude??

—14th floor? 14th floor? Life??

—Bro just post a title and a period. Anything. We’re begging you.

—Fuck, if you’re alive, SHOW YOURSELF AAAAAAAAAAH!!!

—Hooeee... hooeee... there’s a living person hereeee.

Every single thread title was wondering whether I was still alive.

I started typing a post.

It was all over the place, but the seniors in the Transcendent Gallery would get it. They were more sensitive therapists than I gave them credit for.