The mark of pursuit has no form.
You could think of it as tiny fragments of magic power, compressed and bound together so they won't disperse.
Of course, there is a risk of being discovered—
if the target is a knight or mage stronger than oneself.
But could the humans of Earth really notice it?
When he first encountered them, he only placed the mark.
He wondered if he was being overly suspicious for no reason.
But the next day—
Kosak sensed the marks.
Three fragments of magic power circling near the officetel.
There was no doubt about it.
They were watching this officetel.
A place that looked ordinary, yet housed many players.
The space where Summoner Bong resides.
And they dared to pull something funny here?
A bitter memory resurfaced.
The memory of failing to protect his summoner.
For players, the world outside the Tower was more dangerous than the inside.
Any sprout of threat, no matter how small, had to be eradicated completely.
Among other summoned beings, there were terrifying individuals who, in the name of protecting their summoner, had wiped out entire nations.
Better that than the world being destroyed.
If he were ever placed in such a situation and given the opportunity, he would do the same without hesitation.
That was why he asked to be resummoned under the pretense of watching soccer.
Yes.
He lied.
An act that should never be done, and indeed cannot be done.
But the third clause of the Third Principle of Blood-Summoned Ones had already been triggered.
Thus, justification for the lie was granted.
And what did that mean?
It meant that those marked were connected to Summoner Bong.
While Summoner Bong slept, he activated a stealth skill and quietly slipped out of the officetel.
Since the mark had already been placed, finding them was not difficult.
And so, the place John Kosak arrived at was an abandoned massage parlor not far from the officetel.
The door was locked, but isn't picking a lock a basic virtue of an assassin?
Making as little noise as possible—
click.
Using stealth, he entered the place where the mark was.
There were eight people in total.
They were talking, but he couldn't understand what they were saying.
He shared a language with Summoner Bong, so if it were Korean, he would have understood—
but was language really the issue here?
What mattered was that among the photos scattered across the table, there was one of Summoner Bong.
I'll have to deal with this.
Sssrlk—he revealed himself.
Then he spoke a single line.
The bastards noticed him.
He poured sword aura into his dagger and took one of them first.
Tsphit!
Slash!
"Ghk!"
"Th-this—!"
"Grab his arm!"
"Shoot him with the gun!"
"You bastard—!"
Thud! Thup! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud…
Did he really need assassination techniques against trash like this?
One shot, one kill.
With twin daggers in both hands, he stabbed their chests and shattered their hearts.
Before he knew it, the room had fallen silent.
Seven corpses in total.
One survivor.
Deng Guanlin felt as though he were dreaming.
Where was this place? And who was that man?
A Korean intelligence agent? A special forces soldier like UDT or HID?
Impossible. Neither.
The inhuman martial power the man displayed—
Was that even human?
…A ghost.
But he had felt something like this before.
A memory flashed through his mind.
A Black Tower raid video.
A player.
If that man was a player, did that mean abilities from inside the Tower could be used in the real world?
At that moment—
The terrifying ghost turned his head this way.
Deng Guanlin staggered backward.
His legs trembled so badly they barely moved.
If he counted the number of people he had personally killed, ten fingers and ten toes wouldn't be enough.
He had also gone through countless training sessions and real combat.
What was a few people dying right in front of his eyes?
And yet—
At this moment, he was truly terrified.
Fear flooded over him, turning his mind blank.
"You're the last one left, huh?"
Drip, drip—
Blood trickled from the ghost's blade.
"Say 'I'm sorry.' You know Korean, right?"
Deng Guanlin had no choice but to answer.
It felt like he had to.
"I'm sor—"
Thud!
Crunch!
The dagger pierced his lower jaw, punched through his head, and emerged from the crown of his skull.
Kosak checked once more to make sure no one was still breathing.
One beheaded, six with shattered hearts, one with a pierced head.
Then, to finish up…
Unconsciously, Kosak reached into his chest and pulled out a ribbon.
But—
"Gah! I—I almost tied it. Haa, haa…"
Hold it. Hold back.
He had to.
His signature mark.
His hand trembled violently with the urge to tie the ribbon, but he forced his instincts down.
One might call it truly superhuman self-restraint.
Any fellow assassin who knew him well would be utterly shocked.
"You're not leaving a mark? Are you really Kosak?"
He had decided to hide it from the beginning.
If he had informed Summoner Bong beforehand, given the summoner's personality, he would have definitely been dissuaded—told never to do it.
On the other hand, it was something Kosak absolutely had to do.
He might be reprimanded again, like before.
Of course, he probably wouldn't be cast aside, but…
Hoo.
Honestly, even that was uncertain.
The future felt unstable.
He might be abandoned.
Gobang, who had been an R, had risen to SSR and firmly established his position as a tanker.
Meanwhile, Kosak's once-solid position now seemed shaky.
And soon, it would be the day of random summoning.
Fortunately, if a trait enhancement occurred, there would be one more slot—but if not?
The role an assassin like Kosak could play in the Tower was extremely limited.
If someone absolutely had to be expelled, that person would be himself.
"Th-that can't be. That must not happen."
He had to remain by his side for a long, long time.
Now, it was time to leave.
But he couldn't return to the officetel.
How could he enter that sacred place with the stench of blood all over him?
He's probably still sleeping, right?
He hoped Summoner Bong was sleeping deeply.
Sound sleep was closely tied to good health, after all.
As for himself?
He would wander around outside until his summoning was, then return.
※ ※ ※
Juhyeok woke up after a deep sleep.
When he went out to the living room, the TV was off, and Kosak was gone.
He wondered if Kosak had enjoyed the soccer match.
First things first—get ready to go out.
He planned to visit his parents' home.
Then, in the afternoon, he'd climb the 35th floor of the Tower.
He called a car and arrived at his parents' place.
The bodyguard waited downstairs.
"Your son has arrived."
At that, his father, Bong Cheolsu, frowned.
"Why have you been talking so weird lately?"
"Yes? Is that so, sir?"
"Something good happen to you?"
"Your son's life is always filled with good things. That's why I wanted to share some of it."
His mother, Hong Geum-ja, let out a small chuckle and spoke.
"You haven't eaten yet, have you?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Good. If you eat, at least you'll stop talking like that."
After finishing the meal his mother prepared—
"Mom, don't you need some spending money?"
"Huh? No, I'm fine. I'll be getting a job soon."
"Where?"
"I'll try working at a restaurant or something."
Ah…
Korea's top player.
A man with assets in the billions, yet still unable to let his parents live comfortably.
"I'll transfer some money to your account. Take your time finding a job—"
"No need. How could I use money my son earned by risking his life? Save it. You never know what might happen later."
Then, from the side, his father Bong Cheolsu curled his finger and poked his own chest.
Without making a sound, mouthing the words—
Send it to me. To me.
"…."
Good grief, the power of genetics.
"Oh! Right. Here's Nam Ga-eun Player's autograph, and—take one of these each. Keep it in your pocket or wallet at all times."
"Huh? …A talisman?"
"Yes! This one is for health, this one is for good luck. I prepared three each—for Father, Mother, and Min-hyeok."
"You believe in stuff like this?"
"I came to believe in it completely recently. The effects are incredible. A truly gifted shaman wrote them."
That wasn't a lie.
They really were a gifted shaman.
He'd experienced it himself.
"Hmm, alright. You've got one too, right?"
"Of course."
They'd be healthier from now on.
And blessings would settle upon the household—
Even if only in small ways.
※ ※ ※
After returning from his parents' house, Juhyeok gathered the summoned beings.
Gobang the R had been reborn as Gobang the SSR, so the 35th floor was a must.
"With three SSRs, reaching the 40th floor at S++ should be no problem, right? Or is that pushing it?"
"You underestimate us. Even the 50th floor would be easy."
Oh!
It really did seem like Gobang becoming SSR was a huge deal.
"However, from the 51st floor onward, an S++ clear would—"
He knew.
Giant flying monsters.
Griffins and wyverns that used feather attacks and breath abilities.
Not only were they strong enough to prey on minotaurs and ogres, but the fact that they were flying monsters made them troublesome, and on top of that, they used magical attacks as well.
In any case, he planned to summon one more being somewhere in the 40s.
The key question was whether trait enhancement would appear.
That was why he stuck the talisman inside his underwear.
If more meant better effects, he would've plastered himself with them, but since one or a hundred worked the same, there was no point.
"Let's go. Time to hunt the cow-headed king."
"Yes, sir!"
[Entering the 35th floor of the Black Tower of the Republic of Korea.]
The mission was—
[35th Floor Mission: Defeat 80 Minotaurs of any type and 1 Minotaur King.]
[Time Limit: 13 hours.]
[Completion Conditions: All Minotaurs 0/80, Minotaur King 0/1.]
Good grief,
That's a lot.
White ones, black ones, spotted ones, small ones, big ones.
He glanced to the side and saw Kosak staring straight ahead with a stiff expression.
He looked incredibly determined.
He wasn't even flattering like usual—just pulled out his twin daggers, flooded them with sword aura, and muttered to himself,
"I can't be abandoned. I absolutely can't be abandoned. I'll stay till the end. Till the very end."
What's he talking about?
Who's abandoning whom?
Did he suddenly lose his mind?
It's not like he bet on sports gambling while watching soccer.
Jingle-jingle-jingle!
Starting with Gyeondallae's bell ringing, the 35th floor raid began.
And at that very moment—
Speeeefit!
Kosak shot forward like a bullet.
In an instant, he leaped and slit the throat of a stage-three minotaur, then was already charging toward another target.
"…Hmm."
What's with Mr. Kosak this time?
He should hunt safely.
He could just stick behind Gobang and pick up scraps.
Had he gotten restless after being idle for too long?
More importantly, what should I do?
I'll just hunt some stage-one or stage-two minotaurs.
Chzzzt!
Energy barrier activated, hand shield and mace out.
The worried glances from the summoned beings bothered him a little, but—
"Who am I? A talent monster who pulled off Shadow Step in midair!"
Before they could stop him, he should take down a few.
"Hyaah!"
Smack! Smack!
But then—
"GRAAAAAAAAH!"
The Minotaur King appeared on the battlefield, wielding a massive axe.
Already?
"Hey now! This is ridiculous! I'm just getting started."
As soon as the King appeared, SSR Gobang—
Swoooooosh!
Charged forward at terrifying speed with a full-body tackle.
Bam!
"Ummerrh…!"
The Minotaur King was smashed into a bloody pulp and sent flying.
Its axe went spinning away as its body was flung far, far into the distance.
"..."
SSR Gobang was, without question, balance-breaking.
At least in the 30th-floor range.
[Notice: You have achieved an S++ clear on the 35th floor of the Black Tower (Korea).]
[S++ Clear Reward: A Platinum Badge has been awarded.]
Now all that remained was to check the special reward.
Please!
※ ※ ※
Yellow police tape was stretched across a building in Seoul's entertainment district.
A mass murder had occurred at the closed-down shop .
In the morning, a mail carrier delivering letters caught a strange, fishy smell wafting out through a slightly open door.
Thinking it might be the smell of blood, he reported it to the police.
Homicide detectives stared at the crime scene with grim expressions.
Another mass murder.
How long had it even been since the last one?
"Could this be connected to the Smile Cash incident? That was also a mass killing."
"Hard to say. Only one body has a cleanly severed head. Most of the others were killed by heart destruction, and one by head penetration. Most importantly—there's no ribbon."
Still, the way a person's neck had been sliced so cleanly was eerily similar.
"Have we secured the CCTV footage?"
"There were no cameras inside the shop. The convenience store CCTV across the street only shows these victims coming and going."
"Tsk… looks like we're in for a long haul."
Yet another unprecedented mass murder.
The media would swarm like a pack of dogs.
And the police would be buried under criticism.
"Chief."
"What is it?"
"Please take a look at this."
"Hm?"
One detective pulled an item from a victim's body.
"It's a handgun. Looks like a Tokarev."
"What?"
A Tokarev—
One of the most widely copied pistols in the world.
Which meant it was extremely common.
"There's more. Here too, and here… All of them were carrying one."
The handguns weren't the only suspicious items.
Military knives, syringes filled with clear liquid, ropes and duct tape, handcuffs for restraints…
And that wasn't all.
Photos scattered across the floor.
Close-up shots of a specific person's face—about ten of them.
Who were these people?
"The murder suspect is suspicious, but somehow the victims seem even more suspicious."
The detective chief nodded.
"IDs?"
"They were all carrying them."
"Run them. Now."
A moment later, a detective who had contacted headquarters spoke up.
"Chief, this is really strange."
"What is?"
"All the IDs are fake. The names exist in the database, but the faces don't match."
"…I figured as much."
So who the hell are these guys?
By instinct, they didn't seem Korean.
Illegal immigrant laborers?
No way.
Laborers don't walk around carrying pistols.
Then organized crime?
That was unlikely too.
All the gangs in this area were already accounted for—
Domestic or foreign.
The homicide chief had one particular suspicion.
The syringes found among their belongings.
Most likely drugs—or anesthetics.
They were trying to kidnap someone.
Whom?
The person in those photos, obviously.
That needed to be confirmed.
"Contact upstairs and ask them to get in touch with the NIS. Tell them to send an agent immediately."
Time passed.
An NIS agent arrived at the scene.
"Whew, thank you for your hard work. Must've been rough. The victims?"
"This way, please."
"Understood."
The moment he entered the room, the stench of blood hit him.
Covering his nose with a handkerchief, the NIS agent carefully examined the bodies.
Then—
"…Huh?"
His gaze shifted to the photos scattered on the floor.
He stepped closer absentmindedly, picked one up, then another, then another—
"Fuck!"
The curse burst out suddenly.
The NIS agent's eyes sharpened.
His face stiffened completely.
"Chief."
"Yes?"
"This case hasn't been reported to the media yet, has it?"
"They shouldn't know yet."
"Then we'll be taking over. This appears to fall under NIS jurisdiction."
And that day—
Both the National Intelligence Service and the Awakened Management Administration were thrown into complete chaos.