Chapter 474: Ninety-Eighth Floor, Waiting Room (2)

Chapter 474: Ninety-Eighth Floor, Waiting Room (2)

[38 hours 46 minutes until the rest period ends. Please take a rest.]

“Su-Hyeok, will this do?”

“

Hmm.

No, let’s stack it a little higher.”

Poong-Lyeong nodded and immediately drew upon the power of the storm. “Okay.”

The nearby pile of dirt that formed a massive hill rose into the air, carried effortlessly by the swirling wind. Under Poong-Lyeong’s meticulous control, not a single speck of dust drifted astray. The lifted soil settled neatly atop the towering column in the distance, raising it even further.

Hmm, calling it a pillar doesn’t quite fit anymore.

It was far beyond a simple column now. What stretched toward the sky resembled a full structure, something closer to a tower. It wasn’t elegant like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but it had a defined form and presence. If I had told Poong-Lyeong to refine its exterior, it probably would have looked like an actual tower.

Still, it looks fine as it is.

After finishing my training, I had purchased a large amount of soil and spread it across the ground. At first, I had only planned to pile up the dirt, which wasn’t difficult. The mimic produced the soil while Poong-Lyeong handled the rest. The massive hill beside us had been the product of that first attempt.

At that point, Poong-Lyeong had suggested building something more structured. It claimed it could manipulate the moisture within the soil to create a stable building. Of course, it also mentioned that it would need the Flame of Aspiration’s power to succeed. I had initially doubted it was worth the trouble, but now that I saw the result, I realized it had been a good decision. The outcome more than justified the effort spent.

This should last for at least half a year.

It was slightly wider than the remaining portion of the Star Devourer, but it was tall enough to reach the heavens. I had worried it would collapse, but Poong-Lyeong reassured me that it had infused the storm’s energy into the soil.

𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Now that we had completed the exterior, we only had to fill the inside with soil. The Star Devourer was resting temporarily atop the mound, so once we stuffed the tower, I could move it there. From how we designed it, there was no way for the Star Devourer to burst out the side after it consumed a decent amount of soil.

The dirt will sink in a way that will keep it centered.

At first, I wasn’t sure building a tower was necessary, but it turned out to be a great decision. Later, I could simply remove the Star Devourer and refill the soil it consumed, which would make maintenance easier.

I had purchased far more soil than needed anyway, just to avoid making repeated trips. Even after this project, there was still plenty left, enough to last for years without worry.

“Su-Hyeok, the tower’s interior has been filled.”

“Good. Nicely done.”

“It was nothing.”

I smiled faintly and turned to look back. The earthen mound beside us was still enormous, so I had definitely overpurchased. Still, it crossed my mind that Poong-Lyeong could use it for future projects. It wouldn’t be able to create anything elaborate, but simple structures would be well within its ability.

After all, people still lived in earthen homes even now.

Maybe I should build a few in advance for the fallen climbers.

The tower had taken time to complete because of its height, but simple houses would be quick. Larger communal structures could wait. Even if only one percent of the freed climbers came, that would still mean well over a million people. Come to think of it, that was quite a number.

Will that be too much work?

Even if I grouped ten together, I would still need to make at least ten thousand homes. That seemed like a massive waste of effort. Since I had more than enough achievement points, perhaps I should buy tens of thousands of portable tents from the shop.

Or maybe not.

Tens of thousands of tents sounded excessive. Even if I could afford it, it would cost an unbelievable amount.

Hmm. There I go again.

I cleared my throat quietly. It hadn’t even been a couple of minutes since the last time I told myself not to get ahead of things, but here I was again, overthinking. I attributed it to the bond I had formed with the wraiths. The cloak had played a part, but that exchange of emotion had been genuine. There was something deeply moving about the idea that there were beings willing to follow me of their own will.

The climbers from Earth believe in me, but none would go so far as to give up everything for me.

Perhaps the members of the Shadow Su-Hyeok fan club would, but I would think about them later.

Now that I had thought through creating homes for my future followers, I realized I had oversimplified the task. Besides, one percent was probably a massive overestimation.

After conquering the tower, I would have plenty of ways to seek help anyway. I could reach out to Earth or even ask another god for assistance. The latter would mean owing a debt, so I would likely go with the first option.

I instinctively recalled my old bank account balance.

Well, I don’t have much money at my disposal.

Before entering the tower, I had been working part-time while preparing for graduation and job searching. My savings weren’t very impressive. Maybe two or three million won at most?

The moment that thought crossed my mind, I realized how ridiculous I was being. Given who I was now, earning money wouldn’t be difficult.

If I summon lightning a few times, the Korea Electric Power Corporation will probably make me rich overnight.

Still, that felt far too modest for a god.

Hmm.

It was a strange feeling. Inside the tower, I was number one, and I knew it. However, when I thought about Earth, my perspective still felt trapped in the mindset of an ordinary person.

Probably because I lived that way for so long.

On Earth, I had been the very definition of ordinary. Just another student attending university, working part-time, and preparing for employment. Because of that, it was hard to imagine what it would be like once I returned.

Living the way I once had was no longer possible.

My every action was being broadcast live, and countless people placed their faith in me. The sheer amount of divinity flowing toward me made it clear just how many there were. My thoughts wandered in every direction, yet in truth, I had no real idea what awaited me.

Will there be paparazzi?

When I returned, I would already be one of Earth’s gods. That would certainly be bothersome, but inevitable. Even if they appeared, though, I could always sense them first and steer clear.

On the other hand, I wasn’t sure how people from such a scientifically advanced world would perceive someone like me. Many offered me divinity now, but perhaps that was only because I was far away, confined within the Tower of Ordeal. If they were to see me face-to-face, that faith could waver.

Of course, not everyone would welcome me.

People rarely need a reason to love or hate. Ah, whatever... no, that isn’t quite right.

I caught myself and realized there was no real reason to avoid thinking about it. I had just finished training and was about to rest anyway. Usually, I pushed stray thoughts aside to focus on upcoming trials, but perhaps I should think about the future for once. Besides, I would be returning to Earth soon, so it wasn’t too early to prepare.

What will I even do once I get back?

Naturally, I couldn’t return to job hunting or office work as I had before entering the tower. My face was far too well-known, and with these abilities, living that kind of life would be impossible. My mindset wasn’t the same anymore either.

Plus, there are already more than enough responsibilities waiting for me.

I had plenty of promises to keep, and I had to fulfill my duties as a god. I probably wouldn’t earn money on Earth, but surely the government would take care of my livelihood. When Ha Hee-Jeong first told me that our lives were being broadcast to the world, I had asked her something.

How are my parents doing on Earth?

At the time, I had asked out of worry, but in hindsight, it was only natural. She said that during her previous life, a portal had opened, and the government had ensured the safety and welfare of the climbers’ families.

If I were in their position, I would have done the same.

From a national standpoint, upsetting a top climber could cost them an entire city. In my case, the scale would go beyond a city, perhaps even an entire continent.

Modern weapons didn’t frighten me anymore. I could dodge bullets—or even catch them midair—and though a nuclear weapon had never hit me, I was fairly certain I could defend against it using causality.

If I see it descending from the sky, I can leap away before the blast even reaches me.

Either way, my livelihood wasn’t something worth worrying about. People’s reactions were the greater concern, but that wasn’t something I could control.

Maybe this is why people always speak of their hometowns with such affection.

It felt as if my thoughts ran deeper than when I pondered the tower itself. I wondered if it was because of the homesickness I had felt ever since the first floor. The tower had been intense, but the twenty-four years of my life on Earth were much more deeply ingrained in my subconscious.

It really won’t be easy to readjust.

Put simply, returning to an ordinary life on Earth was impossible. That wouldn’t apply only to me. Most climbers would likely feel the same. PTSD and depression. Ninety-nine percent of us suffered from some degree of mental disorder, mild or severe. I was no exception.

I liked to think I hadn’t changed much, but that probably wasn’t true. There were moments when I felt something was off, a strange detachment toward trivial things. After all, I had spent over a year killing, fighting, and living in constant tension.

Hopefully, I was just overthinking it.

Even so, I doubted I would spend much time on Earth once I returned. I would see my parents, then fulfill my godly duties along with the promises I had made. I would also need to contend with hostile deities.

My parents would probably worry.

We weren’t especially close or affectionate, but that didn’t matter. Any parent would be concerned if their child lived a dangerous life. They were likely spending every day on edge while I was in the tower. In the end, there was nothing I could do about it. I was only doing what I had to. The thought left a faint, heavy feeling in my chest. I had pushed thoughts of my parents aside for so long, but when they resurfaced like this, they were difficult to restrain.

I breathed in deeply and deliberately turned my thoughts elsewhere. The first person that came to mind was Ha Hee-Jeong.

She is probably doing well, right?

Knowing her, she was endlessly worrying about me. Even during the climb, she had always tried to check on me whenever she could—on every floor and every spare moment. She had kept track of my condition and supported me mentally to the point it would have seemed excessive to anyone else.

Though to me, it hadn’t felt bothersome in the slightest. If I were still mentally sound after everything, it was largely thanks to her. Since the ninetieth floor, the trials had grown increasingly difficult, which had to be hard on her.

Maybe I should have sent her a sign. At least once.

She couldn’t see me while I was in the waiting room, so it would have to be during the trials. I didn’t know where the tower watched me from, but I could wave or smile toward the air to let her know.

It was such a simple thought, but it had never crossed my mind until now.

Leaving a message on the ground would be too conspicuous with so many spectators.

A single smile would be enough for Ha Hee-Jeong to understand.

Yeah.

I would make sure to do it once I entered the ninety-eighth floor. It was a little late, but better late than never. She had spent so long worrying, so I wanted her to know I was all right.

“Su-Hyeok?”

“Hmm?

”

A sudden voice pulled me back to the present. Poong-Lyeong was watching me with a concerned expression.

“You were so still. I’ve never seen you so deep in thought. Should I not have called you?”

I shook my head lightly. “No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

Done with my battlefield experiments, I opened a portal leading back to the waiting room. Perhaps because I had decided to send Ha Hee-Jeong a sign, I found myself eager to reach the ninety-eighth floor as soon as possible.

Should I just go now?

The thought crossed my mind, but I dismissed it. Rushing wouldn’t help. It was better to proceed calmly without mistakes.

For now, it was time to rest and gather strength for what lay ahead.