Chapter 37: Return to the Demon Tower — For the Third Time
Narrator's POV
Akira entered his house without saying a single word. He closed the door behind him, walked straight to his room, and began changing clothes with a mechanical routine—but with a clear goal in mind. He put on a light white shirt, reinforced black pants, a long hooded coat that swayed lightly as he moved, and sturdy athletic shoes. His expression was serious, determined.
It was time to return to the Demon Tower.
He had set that challenge aside for a while, focusing on more immediate matters in the human world… but now he felt it was the perfect time to go back. He needed to level up, strengthen his abilities, and test how far he could go with his new shadows and the power he had been accumulating.
"If I remember correctly, I haven't even reached the tenth floor yet…" he said as he opened the system shop with a mental gesture. "With Igris, Gillian, and my new skills, clearing the levels will be a piece of cake."
He navigated through the system's menu efficiently until he found what he was looking for: a fire-resistant cloak. He bought it without hesitation and draped it over his shoulders. The fabric adjusted to his body like a second skin—light, yet firm.
As he finished equipping himself, his mind drifted to a recent memory: Rukia's eyes, filled with resignation. That dim gaze that seemed to accept punishment, to accept death… as if she had no other choice. Akira frowned.
He knew that expression well.
He had worn it on his own face for a long time, back when he was nothing more than a nobody in this strange world—before he had the system. He had accepted that his role would be insignificant, that his fate was already written. That he would never matter.
And that… that was something he had hated.
(Ugh, I wasn't supposed to get involved in this… but I made a promise—and a real man never breaks his word.)
He tugged his coat into place with a firm pull, raising the hood over his head. This time, he wouldn't climb the tower just for himself. He would grow stronger… so that no one around him would ever have to surrender again.
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Akira stepped once more onto the seventh floor of the Demon Tower, now completely empty. The echo of his footsteps resounded over the cracked, blackened ground—a silent witness to past battles. It was here that he had received one of the most important missions of his life: the one that had changed his class and allowed him to take a true step toward power.
To him, this place wasn't just another floor. It was a symbol. A new beginning toward something greater.
"This time, I'm not here to play around…" he said with determination as he crossed the threshold leading to the eighth floor. "Thanks to Harribel, I know I need to make Gillian develop a will of his own…"
The new level revealed itself before him like an extension of hell: demons of various shapes and sizes lurked among the ruins and in the skies above—a seething pit of hostility.
(My Gillian can absorb power by devouring Hollows, but that doesn't mean he levels up. Power and level aren't the same…) he reflected, pausing for a few seconds.
His shadow spread across the ground like a dark, serpentine mantle. From it emerged his troops: armored knights, hooded mages, silent assassins, Igris with his overwhelming presence… and of course, his latest acquisition—the Gillian, the massive dark Hollow that now served him.
They didn't need orders. With flawless synchronization, the shadows charged into battle.
The Gillian opened its monstrous jaws and gathered a crimson Cero, which it then unleashed violently at a cluster of flying demons. The explosion of energy was devastating.
The demons disintegrated on contact, leaving a void in the air. The mages conjured fireballs, lightning, and support spells, covering the knights' advance. The armored warriors charged fearlessly, cutting through the chaos with lethal precision.
Igris stood out above the rest, moving like a sharpened shadow. His movements were clean, elegant, and deadly. Every strike ended a life—no wasted effort, no hesitation. He was, without a doubt, the living embodiment of Akira's power.
And then…
[Notification]
[You have leveled up]
[You have leveled up]
A faint smile curved Akira's lips. He wasn't just watching the battle—he was about to get his hands dirty too. He unsheathed his daggers in a smooth motion, cursed energy flowing along the dark blades like a spectral flame.
"I promised Rukia I'd save her… and that's exactly what I'm going to do," he said before launching himself into battle with devastating speed.
The war on the eighth floor had just begun… and Akira was ready to tear everything apart.
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Akira watched calmly as his shadows wiped out the demons on the floor. Sitting atop a broken rock, he took another bite of food, using the short break his army had earned him.
In the distance, his Gillian was preparing another Cero. A sphere of crimson energy slowly formed inside its mouth before being fired violently toward a horde of demons. The blast was deafening, and the result immediate: everything caught in the explosion was reduced to ashes.
Despite its size and sluggish movements, the Gillian possessed a destructive power that couldn't be underestimated. When it came to wiping out large groups, it was a trump card.
"It's been two days since I entered the Demon Tower," he muttered quietly, wiping his mouth with an improvised napkin. "I made sure to bring enough food and water. I knew I'd be here for a while."
The constant level-ups and use of potions allowed him to maintain a stable flow of energy. His MP regenerated fast enough to keep all his soldiers active, without interruption.
After setting aside the remains of his meal, Akira drew his Demon Blood Dagger, a blade sharp and tainted by dark energy. He didn't even have time to assume a stance—
a demon lunged from the shadows, thrusting a bone spear straight at him.
Akira barely moved.
He leaned slightly to the side, dodging the attack with ease, and with a single precise swing, decapitated the creature.
He sighed, turning toward the next wave of enemies that approached with guttural growls.
"We've kept a good pace. We've already reached the fifteenth floor," he said as he vanished and reappeared in the blink of an eye among the demons, slicing through them with surgical precision. "Even Gillian leveled up… and he's starting to show signs of higher intelligence."
The bodies fell around him in silence. It wasn't a battle. It was an execution.
"If what Harribel said is true… then I'm on the right track with his evolution," he added, his eyes shifting to his shadow—where the massive silhouette of the Gillian slowly emerged.
Yes. The experiment was progressing well. And with each step, Akira was closer to achieving the power he needed—to change the fate of those who, like Rukia, had once accepted their doom without fighting back.
Akira scratched the back of his head, lost in thought. He felt like something was slipping away from him—an idea hovering just out of reach. A few seconds passed in silence… until he snapped his fingers.
"That's it! I still haven't trained my own fighting style." A faint, nervous smile appeared on his face. "While my shadows take care of the demons, I might as well train too… at least learn a proper way to fight."
So far, his style had been pure instinct—hit hard, move fast, stab where it hurt. But that wasn't enough. If he wanted to stand among the true monsters of this world, he needed technique, control, and precision.
Suddenly, a familiar sound appeared before his eyes.
[Notification]
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[New System Mission]
[Mission: The Path Toward Physical Power – Learn one of the following combat styles]
1. Dark Fist
2. Heartburst Liberation Fist
[Choose which martial art you wish to follow]
[Penalty for mission failure: ???]
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Akira frowned as he read the message. He was used to missions… but this one carried something that unsettled him. The punishment.
Three question marks hovered ominously, like a silent threat.
An unknown penalty.
It could be anything—from a simple debuff, to losing his power… or something worse. The system never issued missions without consequences.
"Tch… damn mysterious system," he muttered under his breath, swallowing hard as he studied the two options.
Both combat styles sounded powerful—even dangerous. One evoked darkness; the other, a brutal release of inner energy. This wasn't a decision to take lightly.
But whatever choice he made, Akira knew one thing for certain—
it was time to evolve not just in magic or spirit, but in physical strength as well.
The true balance between body and shadow… was only beginning.
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End of Chapter.