The Longest Eight Days

The golden light of the spatial transfer wrapped around Lee Seo-Jun like a warm blanket.

He took one last breath of the Tutorial Tower's purified air.

The transition ended with a soft, gentle hum.

The bright, endless void of the Tutorial vanished.

It was instantly replaced by the familiar, comforting shadows of his own bedroom.

Seo-Jun stood perfectly still on the polished hardwood floor.

He closed his eyes, his senses still dialed to the absolute maximum from the battlefield.

He slowly forced his muscles to relax.

The air here did not smell like rotting monster blood or toxic cosmic energy.

It smelled like fresh laundry.

It carried the faint, lingering aroma of sesame oil and toasted rice drifting up from the kitchen downstairs.

He opened his eyes and looked at the digital clock resting on his wooden nightstand.

The glowing red numbers read eight in the evening.

He glanced at the calendar pinned to his wall.

The date displayed was the eighth of August, two thousand twenty-five.

Exactly eight days had passed since he first stepped into the Verdant Hell.

Inside the Tutorial zone, the archaic system sustained the human body with ambient mana.

It had entirely suppressed any feeling of hunger, thirst, or natural fatigue.

He had fought terrifying monsters and survived literal nightmares without needing a single drop of water.

He had waged war against an ancient cosmic parasite without a single hour of proper sleep.

To him, the continuous adrenaline made time feel like a fleeting blur.

But for the loving families waiting desperately on the outside...

Those eight days were an absolute eternity of mental torture.

BANG.

The wooden door to his bedroom suddenly burst wide open.

It slammed against the wall with enough force to rattle the picture frames.

Standing in the doorway were his parents.

Lee Kang-Ho and Choi Min-Ah looked completely, utterly exhausted.

Dark, heavy bags hung under their bloodshot eyes.

Their usually neat, expensive clothes were wrinkled and messy, smelling of stale coffee and anxiety.

They had clearly not slept a single wink since the morning he vanished into the blue portal.

For a brief, agonizing second, they just stared at him.

Their eyes were wide with a mixture of absolute disbelief and overwhelming, profound relief.

"Seo-Jun," his mother gasped.

Her voice cracked wildly, completely devoid of its usual stern authority.

Min-Ah crossed the bedroom in a single, desperate blur of motion.

She threw her arms around his neck, nearly tackling him to the floor.

She buried her face deeply into his shoulder.

She sobbed openly, clinging to his shirt with desperate, trembling fingers.

She held him so tightly it felt like she was trying to fuse their souls together.

As if her sheer willpower could ensure he would never leave her sight again.

Kang-Ho followed right behind her.

The massive A-Rank vanguard wrapped his thick, heavy arms around both his weeping wife and his son.

He enclosed them in a massive, unbreakable protective embrace.

He buried his face into the dark black hair of his son.

Seo-Jun could actually feel the hot tears of his father soaking through the fabric of his shirt.

It was a heavy, silent weeping that spoke volumes of a father's terror.

In his previous life, Seo-Jun had lost them far too early.

He had spent decades fighting entirely alone in a dead world.

He had lived in an apocalyptic wasteland with nobody to hug him.

He had fought cosmic gods with nobody to cry for his safe return.

Feeling their absolute, unconditional love right now broke the dam inside his heart.

His own eyes burned fiercely with unshed tears.

He wrapped his bruised, battered arms around them.

He hugged them back with every single ounce of his enhanced strength.

"I am home," Seo-Jun whispered softly into the quiet room.

"I promised I would come back safely."

They stood there in the middle of the bedroom for a long time.

They just held each other, letting the terrifying anxiety of the past week wash away entirely.

✦ ✦ ✦

Eventually, Min-Ah pulled back slightly, sniffing softly.

She wiped the tears from her red eyes, but her hands remained firmly planted on his broad shoulders.

She looked him up and down with frantic, searching eyes.

She inspected his body for missing limbs, gruesome scars, or hidden curses.

Thanks to the absolute healing inside the tower, his physical vessel looked perfectly healthy.

But the overwhelming relief in her eyes was suddenly replaced by something else.

A fierce, burning maternal anger flared in her gaze.

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She raised her hand and swatted him firmly on the arm.

It was not a gentle, teasing tap.

It was a solid strike fueled by days of pure, undiluted terror.

"Ouch," Seo-Jun laughed softly, rubbing his arm.

"Do not laugh, you foolish boy!" Min-Ah scolded him loudly.

Fresh tears welled in her eyes as her voice shook with residual fear.

Kang-Ho crossed his massive arms over his broad chest.

His expression was incredibly stern, but his large hands were still trembling slightly.

"Do you know how agonizing the last four days were?" Min-Ah demanded, her voice cracking.

"Ha-Neul completed her tutorial on the fourth of August!"

Seo-Jun's eyes widened slightly.

He had lost track of Earth's exact time flow while deep inside the clockwork chamber.

"As soon as she exited, she came straight to our house," Min-Ah continued, her voice rising.

"She was absolutely terrified. She was crying on our doorstep!"

Min-Ah grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him slightly closer.

"She told us that you willingly accessed Stage Five!"

The room fell deathly silent at those words.

The temperature in the bedroom seemed to drop by several degrees.

"Stage Five is absolute, certain death, Seo-Jun," Kang-Ho said with a heavy, serious voice.

"The Hunter Association has strictly forbidden any novice from entering the Zenith Crown."

Kang-Ho stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over his son.

"Nobody has ever returned from it. Not a single soul in history."

"Your mother fainted when she heard the news," Kang-Ho revealed quietly.

"She collapsed right in the hallway from the sheer stress."

Seo-Jun looked at his mother in shock.

Min-Ah looked away, wiping her eyes angrily, refusing to show weakness.

"Why would you risk your life like that?" Kang-Ho asked, his voice thick with frustration.

"You had already survived Stage Four. You had already secured your Awakener status. You had won!"

Seo-Jun looked at his parents, his heart aching deeply.

He understood their anger completely. It was born entirely from love.

To them, he was just a twenty-year-old boy.

A novice who had recklessly gambled his life for unnecessary glory or youthful pride.

They did not know the truth.

They did not know he was a regressor carrying the absolute weight of a doomed planet.

They did not know he desperately needed the supreme authority of the final stage.

He needed it to stop the cosmic parasites from treating humanity like livestock.

But he could not tell them the whole truth yet.

The burden of the apocalypse was far too heavy for anyone else to carry right now.

"I am truly sorry I made you worry so much," Seo-Jun said with absolute sincerity.

He looked directly into their eyes to convey his deep, unwavering conviction.

"But I did not do it for glory, and I didn't do it out of foolish pride."

His dark eyes shifted, carrying the ancient, heavy gaze of a veteran general.

"The monsters waiting inside the Tower are evolving," Seo-Jun said softly.

"The standard rewards from the first four stages are not going to be enough."

He placed a hand over his own heart.

"If I want to protect this family in the future, I needed absolute power."

"I saw an opportunity to gain the strength required to keep us safe."

"And I took it, because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I could win."

Min-Ah stared at her son, her breath hitching.

She sighed heavily, the fierce anger melting away, leaving only profound, maternal love.

She reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of black hair from his forehead.

Her fingers trembled against his warm skin.

"You have grown up so much in just a few days," Min-Ah whispered softly.

"You look at the world with eyes that have seen far too much."

She cupped his cheek gently.

"I do not understand what you experienced in that dark place."

"But please remember this," she said, her voice fiercely protective.

"Your life is infinitely more important to us than any magical power or legendary artifact."

"Do not ever throw your life away for strength," she pleaded.

"Don't ever leave us behind again."

"I will never leave you behind," Seo-Jun promised firmly, placing his hand over hers.

It was a vow forged in the fires of a ruined timeline.

✦ ✦ ✦

Kang-Ho cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that lingered in the room.

The relief of seeing their son alive had yet to fade, but something else now occupied his mind.

He studied Seo-Jun with a complicated expression.

Part disbelief.

Part curiosity.

Part awe.

"Seo-Jun..." he began slowly. "Right before you appeared in this room..."

He paused, exchanging a meaningful glance with Min-Ah.

"...the entire world received a World Notification."

Seo-Jun remained silent.

His expression revealed nothing.

Kang-Ho continued.

"Every Hunter."

"Every civilian."

"Every person on Earth saw it."

Min-Ah took over, her voice still carrying traces of disbelief.

"It announced that the Hidden Tutorial Scenario had been cleared."

She swallowed before continuing.

"And that the First Tower Quest had been completed."

Even after saying those words aloud, they still felt surreal.

For twenty-five years since the Tower's descent, humanity had uncovered countless mysteries.

They had discovered Hidden Pieces.

Secret Bosses.

Legendary Relics.

And countless secrets buried within the Tower.

Yet...

Never.

Not once.

Had anyone ever heard of something called a Tower Quest.

There were no records.

No historical accounts.

No mentions in any Hunter Association archive across the world.

It was as though such a system had never existed until today.

The words First Tower Quest were completely unknown to humanity.

As if the Tower itself had revealed an entirely new layer of its existence.

Min-Ah slowly continued.

"It also announced that the Tutorial had been... purified."

"And that Stage Five would no longer be a permanent death zone."

Kang-Ho folded his arms, his expression becoming increasingly grave.

"Then came the final notification."

His sharp eyes locked onto Seo-Jun.

"The Stygian Tide Rate..."

"...decreased by zero point five percent."

Silence filled the room.

Neither parent spoke for several long seconds.

Finally, Kang-Ho asked the question neither of them could avoid.

"...Was that you?"

Seo-Jun looked at them quietly.

These weren't merely his parents.

They were veteran A-Rank Hunters.

People who understood the weight of every word spoken by the Tower.

Lying would accomplish nothing.

He slowly nodded.

"...Yes."

"I was the one who cleared it."

Min-Ah inhaled sharply, both hands instinctively covering her mouth.

Her eyes trembled.

Kang-Ho unconsciously took a step backward.

For perhaps the first time in years...

The veteran Hunter looked genuinely shaken.

"You..."

His voice cracked.

"...You purified a Tower Stage?"

Seo-Jun nodded.

"I did."

Kang-Ho stared blankly.

"You actually..."

"...lowered the Stygian Tide Rate?"

Seo-Jun answered with the same calm expression.

"I found the source of the corruption."

"A parasitic existence had taken control of the Tutorial."

"It was manipulating the trials and spreading corruption throughout the stage."

"I destroyed it."

Silence.

Neither of them knew how to respond.

They simply looked at their son.

No...

At the young man standing before them.

It felt less like they were looking at a Hunter...

And more like someone who had rewritten one of the Tower's immutable laws.

"My God..."

Min-Ah whispered.

Her knees weakened ever so slightly.

"Seo-Jun..."

"Do you even realize what you've done?"

Her voice was barely audible.

"For twenty-five years, humanity had believed that the Stygian Tide Rate had never once decreased."

"Not by a fraction."

"Not by a decimal."

"It has only ever risen."

She stared at him with trembling eyes.

"But you..."

"...you changed it."

Kang-Ho suddenly stepped forward, gripping Seo-Jun firmly by both shoulders.

The shock in his eyes had vanished.

In its place was something far more serious.

An urgency so intense it made the atmosphere inside the room turn heavy.

"Seo-Jun..."

His voice was lower than before.

"You must never tell anyone what really happened."

"I know," Seo-Jun nodded. "I know exactly how much disruption it will cause."

"Because if the world learns that one person discovered and completed the First Tower Quest..."

He exhaled slowly.

"...everything will change."

"It's not just disruption!" Min-Ah warned, her voice tight with rising panic.

"The major Corporate Guilds have built entire empires on the fear and mystery of the Tutorial. For them, it isn't just power, it's control over the entire world's awakening system."

Her hands trembled slightly as she continued.

"If they discover that a single, unaffiliated novice shattered that monopoly…"

Kang-Ho's expression darkened instantly. His grip tightened unconsciously.

"…they will send every assassin, every covert operative they have to erase you from existence before the truth spreads."

Min-Ah nodded grimly, her gaze hardening.

"They won't just try to kill you."

"They will try to dissect you, your body, your mind, your mana circuits, anything that might explain how you did it."

Her voice dropped even further.

"Or worse… they'll try to force you into a slave contract. If they can bind you, they can bind the Tower's functions through you. That's the only way they'll tolerate losing control."

The room fell into a heavy silence after her words.

Seo-Jun listened quietly.

A faint smile appeared on his lips, not arrogance, not dismissal.

Something softer.

Almost distant.

They were afraid for him.

Desperately so.

But what they didn't realize…

If the Corporate Guilds truly sent assassins after him, the ones who should be afraid were not Seo-Jun.

It would be them.

"I won't tell anyone," Seo-Jun said at last, his tone calm and reassuring.

Smooth.

Certain.

A promise that carried no hesitation.

"As far as the world is concerned, the identity of the anomaly is a complete mystery."

Kang-Ho let out a long, shuddering breath, pulling his son into another tight hug.

"Good. Keep it that way. Let the politicians chase ghosts."

Min-Ah wiped her eyes, her natural maternal instincts finally taking over the shock.

"You must be absolutely starving," she said suddenly.

"The system might suppress your hunger in the tutorial, but your soul still needs real food."

She turned toward the door, already rolling up her sleeves.

"Go take a hot shower. Wash the smell of that tutorial off your skin."

"I am going to make a massive feast to celebrate your safe return."

Seo-Jun nodded eagerly, a genuine, youthful smile breaking across his face.

A real, home-cooked meal sounded like absolute heaven after consuming nothing but cosmic tension.