Chapter 294. The Eternity Tower (7)

"I'm really sorry, Eun-Ho." Team Leader Lee scratched his head, which only had a few remaining strands of hair left. "HR said there’s no quota at all this year for converting contract workers to full-time. The economy’s just... rough, you know?"

"So I didn’t make the cut," Lee Eun-Ho replied calmly, almost indifferently.

His stiff, uneasy expression, along with the way coworkers stole glances before lapsing into silence, Eun-Ho knew what was coming next.

"It’s definitely not because of—”

“It’s not because of my performance, right?” Eun-Ho cut in. “I know.”

“...Ah. Right.”

Of course Eun-Ho knew. It had been the last normal day in the world.

He had replayed that day over and over again.

"It’s just... you know, rest—”

“A restructuring decision, right?” Eun-Ho said flatly. “You want to cut labor costs, but it’s hard to fire existing employees, so you just stop hiring new ones.”

“Huh?”

Eun-Ho had come back to the day he got laid off.

"Hey, let’s get lun—”

He cut in again, “Lunch won’t be necessary.”

What he sought right now wasn’t comfort, but clarity and a clear understanding of the situation. Besides, the person he had to see wasn’t this man.

“Eun-Ho! Where are you going? If you don’t want blood sausage soup, we can go across the street for soup rice!”

However, there was one thing he wanted to clarify. “Team leader.”

“One second! Let’s head out right aw—”

“I don’t like blood sausage soup.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? You always ate it!”

“That’s why I don’t like it,” Eun-Ho said. “And the rest of the team doesn’t either. Buy something decent for once. They all work hard.”

The team leader froze mid-motion, his mouth hanging open. The others seemed just as flabbergasted.

Then, Eun-Ho turned and walked out. Even though he had been running nonstop just moments ago, his legs felt heavy, like rotting logs. The place felt all too familiar, which made it unsettling.

Still, he walked toward the one and only person he could trust and depend on.

“Yes, then we’ll move the 2 PM meeting to 3, and the 3 PM report will be—”

“Ji-Eun.”

The long-haired woman, who now somehow felt unfamiliar, turned around.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Huh? Me?”

She appeared genuinely caught off guard.

Manager Choi snapped, clearly annoyed. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?!”

It was understandable. Although Eun-Ho and Ji-Eun knew each other and had even shared a few meals, they weren’t close enough for him to barge into another team’s space and pull her away like this.

“If you’re already dealing with health issues, the least you could do is have some basic manners—”

“That’s enough. Be quiet,” Eun-Ho said.

“W-what did you just say?”

Eun-Ho didn’t have the luxury of worrying about people like them when he had bigger problems.

He asked Ji-Eun, “Would you join me for lunch?”

***

The view from the rooftop café on the twenty-fifth floor was just as bustling yet peaceful as he remembered.

Ji-Eun smiled. “Eun-Ho, you like rooftops, don’t you? Especially this spot.”

“Ah, yes. You knew?”

She tucked her long hair behind her ear as the wind swept through it. “I like this spot too! I’ve seen you here pretty often.”

It had been a while since he’d seen her with long hair, and also appearing this bright and carefree.

It hasn’t even been that long, but she looks younger somehow, Eun-Ho thought.

He had probably been staring because Ji-Eun, who seemed unsure where to place her gaze, asked cautiously, “Um, is there something on my face?”

“No.”

“Then why are you—”

Right then, the pager on the table buzzed.

Bzzzt—

“Oh! The coffee!” Ji-Eun quickly grabbed it and stood up. “I’ll go get it. Think of it as exercise because I’m trying to lose weight these days.”

Eun-Ho knew it was a lie and yet, he still thanked her. “Thank you.”

After all, he wasn’t a respected chairman right now, but just a contract worker with a limp who others naturally took care of.

“Ha...”

He took a quiet breath and thought, This is a trial.

“Status window. Summon.”

Although there was no status window, item, nor countdown appearing, he knew this was a trial.

[Moving to Trial Site Four.]

Eun-Ho had definitely heard it before the nameless god’s voice faded like smoke.

The problem is, there’s no visible clear condition, Eun-Ho thought.

Up until now, every trial had been straightforward, with a clear objective such as a key or a door. Yet there was nothing this time. No matter how he looked, it was just an ordinary office with ordinary people.

He had even retraced the events of that day almost exactly, but nothing stood out, which meant it was one of two things.

Either this isn’t a trial at all, and I’ve somehow been sent back to the real past, or this is a twisted trial with no hints and no clear objective. If this really is the past... Eun-Ho wondered.

His thoughts tangled, but wishful thinking wouldn’t help. He wasn’t the type to fill his head with fantasies to begin with.

While Ji-Eun was away, he focused on what he could do and what he could test. “Petrify.”

He looked down at his hand, which should have hardened like stone. Clenching his fist, he slammed it against the bench.

Yeah, it hurts.

It shouldn’t have, but it did.

“Acceleration,” Eun-Ho whispered softly and observed the people passing by.

Time should have slowed and nearly stopped everything.

Wait...

“Soooo—”

“I toooold—”

Voices stretched unnaturally like a broken tape, and footsteps slowed as if trapped in slow motion. The world was slowing down.

Eun-Ho glanced over the edge of the rooftop. “So only the Acceleration works?”

Cars below were barely crawling, honking as they moved. A motorcycle, which had been speeding like a cheetah, was visibly slowing as well.

A strange sense of déjà vu crept in and his brows furrowed. “Huh?”

The motorcycle is moving?

Even with Level Twelve Acceleration, where a single second stretched into sixty, Eun-Ho could see the motorcycle inching forward.

Tick.

“Thiiiiiis tiiiiiime they fixed it before releasing it.”

“I tooooold youuu, I cleared it all!”

Time snapped back into place, but his mind didn’t.

But why?

His legs were still heavy like logs and none of his other abilities worked.

So only the Acceleration seems to function, but the duration is definitely shorter.

“Acceleration.”

As for cooldown, there wasn’t even a system message. The system wasn’t functioning normally.

Forty seconds? Maybe forty-five at most, Eun-Ho estimated.

[Acceleration(Lv. 12)]

- Increases the caster’s relative speed. One second can be stretched to sixty seconds.

Acceleration multiplied his perception of one second by sixty, which meant its duration wasn’t just time passing. It was how long he could perceive that stretched second. Just now, what should have felt like sixty seconds had only lasted about forty-five.

There are only two possibilities. Either my Acceleration level has dropped, or the duration remains the same, and it is my perception that has dulled.

if something was interfering with his perception of time, then this had to be a state where everything felt normal from within, even as time itself was distorted.

I know where this place is.

Eun-Ho finally understood.

Ji-Eun suddenly stumbled forward, nearly falling as she carried two cups of coffee. “Here’s your iced Americano with an extra shot—ah!”

“Ji-Eun!”

“What was that just now?” She was startled. “It felt like someone pushed me...”

Not a single soul here was capable of pushing dozens of people at once.

“Yeah, that’s strange,” Eun-Ho said.

However, under the current circumstances, it was entirely possible.

“Huh? Didn’t you hear that just now? What was that buzzing sound?”

Right on cue, the sound he’d been waiting for rang out.

[Attention, everyone.]

[As of yesterday’s board meeting, Earth has been approved for sale. Restructuring will follow.]

What came next should have been an announcement marking the beginning of everything. The dawn of a world where people would push, betray, and ultimately destroy one another.

However, it had changed.

[Survey will begin.]

Huh?

[You’ve been given a chance to change the future! Will you initiate restructuring and walk the same path, or live as if nothing ever happened? What is your choice?]

[1. Initiate restructuring.]

[2. Do not initiate restructuring.]

[You have one minute.]

[Decide the fate of 7,934,635,960 people.]

Eun-Ho let out a dry laugh.

Ha. They really made this one interesting.

At first glance, the answer seemed obvious. If he had to choose, it would be the second option.

[Decide the fate of 7,934,635,960 people.]

Even without emphasizing that absurd number, the conclusion didn’t change. Countless lives, all of human history, and the entire future ahead—none of it could compare to the weight of such a decision.

Yet, the first option was a choice that would plunge all of humanity into chaos, whereas the second choice was to stay here and live as if nothing had ever happened. Both options seemed to be traps.

If I choose the second option, I’ll probably never be able to leave this place.

The Tower had only given him two options. However, not every problem in the world had an answer. Some of them didn’t even have to be answered at all.

“Eun-Ho, what are you thinking about?” Ji-Eun asked.

He glanced at the countdown floating before him.

[00:51]

“It’s just unfortunate,” he said.

“Unfortunate? Why?”

“I liked the coffee here.”

“There’s still time,” Ji-Eun said brightly. “Let’s come back again tomorrow!”

“I won’t be here tomorrow.”

It was time to go back to where he belonged.

[If no choice is made, a random selection will occur.]

[Decide the fate of 7,934,635,960 people.]

I don’t care whether it’s random or fate.

“I’m not choosing.”

After all, this was nothing more than a dream someone had planted inside his mind.

Swoosh—!

Just then, a violent gust tore across the rooftop.

“Ah! The wind’s really strong!” Ji-Eun exclaimed. “A typhoon? In this weather?!”

They swayed as if pushed from all sides. The wind howled louder by the second, growing into a raging storm. Whatever was happening outside, it clearly wasn’t normal.

Eun-Ho rose from his seat. Then, step by step, he forced his heavy legs forward.

Beeeeeeep—!

A piercing alarm rang in his ears like tinnitus. At the same time, his legs grew even heavier, as if soaked through with water.

Then, a red warning screen bled across his vision.

[Decide the fate of 7,934,635,960 people.]

[Decide the fate of 7,934,635,960 people.]

[Decide the fate of 7,934,635,960 people.]

[Decide the fate of 7,934,635,960 people.]

[Decide the fate of 7,934,635,960 people.]

...

He couldn’t see anything because the message windows appeared endlessly.

Behind the blood-red haze, people began turning their heads toward him.

“Choose...”

“Make a choice...”

As they started to gather around him, the dream twisted into something closer to a nightmare.

[00:33]

There were thirty seconds remaining.

I have to wake up before then.

The classic method would’ve been to simply jump off the building. However, he wasn't the only one trapped in this dream.

“Activate the Defense Mechanism,” Eun-Ho muttered.

[Team Skill Defense Mechanism has been activated!]

[Targets: Lee Eun-Ho, Kim Ji-Eun, Choi Jae-Hyuk.]

Crack—

The world split apart, and color drained into monochrome as the space fractured like shattered glass.

[Status effect Delusion has been cleared.]

It was time to wake up.

***

Thud!

Ji-Eun landed hard as she finally escaped, lowering Eun-Ho and Jae-Hyuk to the ground. She had hidden them beneath the thick base of a massive tree, but she knew it wouldn’t take long before they were found.

“Ugh.”

Her wounds throbbed from the strain of running. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, but this wasn’t the time to focus on pain.

[3:16]

Seven minutes had passed since the third trial began. It also had been seven minutes since she’d been dragging two unconscious people through this nightmare.

How are they still unconscious? The ground shook so much! Ji-Eun thought.

How was she supposed to wake them? Since she alone was conscious, it had to be a matter of mental resilience. Not like she had any time to calmly figure it out.

Creaaaaak—!

Kyeaaak—!

Monsters closed in. Like eyeless eggs, their faces were mostly smooth and featureless, save for a gaping mouth lined with needle-like teeth. Long tongues slithered out between them, reaching greedily.

Then, gunshots rang out.

Bang! Bang! Baaang!

In the dense forest, where overgrown vegetation twisted into a maze, the sound of gunfire tore through the air. The shrieks of the creatures echoed like a constant earthquake.

“Haah!”

This was bad.

Ji-Eun’s clothes were torn. Her shield was shattered. She herself was drenched in blood. Worse than that, even the golden bullets she formed through sheer will were growing weaker by the second.

[You have defeated a Delusion Demon.]

[You have defeated a Delusion Demon.]

[You have defeated a Delusion Demon.]

...

The number of Demons that had fallen to those bullets had already climbed into the hundreds. Mental exhaustion was inevitable.

Shrieks filled the air.

The real problem was that they kept coming endlessly, like cockroaches multiplying without limit. As if that wasn’t enough, a foul and suffocating mist spread through the air, from which the grotesque creatures poured out as if hatching from unseen eggs.

[Please evacuate to the safe zone before time runs out.]

The safe zone wasn’t that far, assuming one could push through the tidal wave of monsters flooding the arena,

[2:07]

Ji-Eun knew she couldn’t keep fighting indefinitely while protecting the two unconscious people. She had to make a decision.

I have to become the bait!

If she couldn’t stop them all, then she wouldn’t try to. Instead, she would fly straight for the safe zone as fast as possible.

I can do this.

Clenching her jaw, she forced herself to stand, grabbing hold of her injured leg that seemed half-broken. Then, she wrapped both arms around the two of them, pulling them close.

She was ready to shield them from every incoming attack, just as they had once done for her.

“Psycho—”

“Huh?”

Eun-Ho’s voice interrupted her. It came from within her arms.

“We’re late,” he said.

Her eyes widened as she cried out, “Eun-Ho!”

“We have two minutes left, correct?” he asked calmly.

“Yes! If you head about eight-hundred meters in the two o’clock direction, there’s a safe zone!” she replied quickly.

Even battered and bloodied, with everything falling apart and death looming inches away, she hadn’t cried. Yet now, the tears finally came.

“I tried waking you both, but you wouldn’t—” she began.

“Don’t worry.”

At some point, red armor had encased him. In his hand gleamed a blade that shone like a polar beast infused with the sun. However, more striking than any of that was the sharp light in his eyes.

Relief washed over her before she even realized it.

“I’ll take over now,” he said.