Chapter 17: Plan Change

Top floor of the Thousand-Day Training Tower.

”…What a madman.”

The words slipped from Ilcheon Dangsa’s lips.

But the tone was vastly different from when he’d first sent the Heavenly Vine to Taejun.

Back then, his words had been venomous, fueled by hatred.

Now, they carried the weight of grudging admiration, tinged with affection.

“Truly, a madman.”

He was indeed gazing contentedly at Taejun’s reflection in the jade orb.

Despite the Heavenly Vine’s toxin turning his entire body a ghastly blue.

Despite him gritting his teeth, legs crossed in lotus posture, stubbornly enduring.

“He seems to be holding on by chugging Stamina Recovery Potions… but he must be drowning in agony.”

Yet instead of abandoning the trial, he was even more intensely focused on cultivation.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone so dedicated to self-improvement.”

Over the past ten days, Taejun’s bizarre behavior had finally begun to make sense.

He must have been constantly awakening his own consciousness to maintain reason amid the illusions.

“Truly, ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way.’ What a tenacious bastard.”

The novices Ilcheon Dangsa had encountered in the tower until now had all lacked such resolve.

They were only concerned with finding easier, more convenient ways to get what they wanted, their eyes slick with greed and complacency as they groveled before him.

Ilcheon Dangsa felt disgusted by those who sought only the comfortable path.

That’s why he had upended the established rules and increased the difficulty of all the trials.

To teach them the truth: that no one in this world can easily obtain what they desire.

I had hoped to awaken even the youngest and most immature.

But the old monk’s intent went unheeded.

The footsteps of those seeking the tower gradually ceased altogether.

Thus, the old monk became a forgotten relic in the back room.

And so.

“I thought no one with such tenacity remained these days.”

Could this mere stripling possibly be the ‘first disciple’ the old monk had awaited for so many long years?

Click.

The sound of Ilcheon Dangsa opening a bottle echoed. It was the Nutritive Strengthener Taejun had given him.

He drained it in one swift gulp.

“I will endure until the deadline I set.”

Ilcheon Dangsa held up the empty bottle, his gaze fixed on Taejun within the jade pendant.

“Excellent. If your tenacity remains unbroken until the end, I will repay this gift with an extra boon.”

Another ten days passed.

It was the twentieth day since I had begun the trial in the Hall of Great Illusion.

I checked the clock on my Status Window and stretched once.

”…Ugh!”

[…]

Even then, I didn’t forget to let out a painful groan, as if reminding myself of the suffering.

I was just beginning to consider summoning Ilcheon Dangsa when—

Swish.

Suddenly, the ground beneath me sank sharply.

The vines that had been supporting me had vanished.

Then, everything flashed bright, and my surroundings completely changed.

Before me stood a towering, pristine white Ma Tower, its base shrouded in ankle-deep clouds.

I had escaped the tower.

Immediately, a rough voice beside me growled like a phlegm-filled throat.

“Heh heh, you look like a mess.”

“Master.”

“Humph, I told you to stop using that insolent title. The connections forged in this tower are as fleeting as a dragonfly’s wing. Now that the trial is over, there will be no further ties between you and me.”

Ilcheon Dangsa struck the ground sharply with his staff, the daebong, and roared.

But his demeanor lacked the razor-sharp edge it had before the trial.

So I replied, “I was taught that one who serves as a master for a time must serve as a master for life.”

“Even with that sickly pallor, you still wag your tongue so freely. How is your body?”

I glanced at my arm, which had turned a ghastly blue, and nodded.

“It’s bearable.”

“Then that’s sufficient. The swelling will subside soon, and you’ll return to your original appearance. Don’t worry.”

The old monk continued, his face softening with satisfaction.

“You endured the Trial of Phantom Reality admirably. Now, depart.”

Once again, Ilcheon Dangsa struck the ground with his daebong.

At that moment, a dimensional portal leading to the outside world materialized beside me.

“Thank you for everything, Master,” I said, bowing deeply in farewell before stepping through the portal.

Just then, Ilcheon Dangsa spoke. “One last question.”

“Yes, Master?”

“In the outside world… are there any others left with your kind of tenacity?”

“Ah.”

This didn’t even require contemplation.

“Not a single one, I believe.”

“As expected.”

“Absolutely, Master.”

“Understood. Now, depart.”

“Yes, Master!”

With a vigorous answer and clasped hands in a formal bow, I prepared to leave.

“Ahem… what a preposterous disciple.”

That was the last I saw of Ilcheon Dangsa, his awkward cough echoing as he waved me off.

Once again, I returned to my original world—the entrance to the dungeon’s dimensional portal.

The moment I landed in the plaza before the Ma Tower, Manager Mi remarked:

“Of course there wouldn’t be. No human being would openly scam NPCs like Taejun did.”

“A scam? I haven’t broken any rules at all.”

“Enough nonsense. Let’s just check the rewards.”

I immediately opened the Status Window.

And then.

“Huh?”

My eyes widened in shock.

“Manager Mi, something’s off with these stats.”

After a brief silence, Manager Mi spoke again about five minutes later.

“So…”

I turned my gaze to the floating window before me.

I endured the Trial of Phantom Reality for twenty days, so I should have only gained 480 mana.

It made sense that Experience Poison Immunity had ranked up.

Around the midpoint of the trial, Thousand Hands Worms had been added.

Thanks to that, I’d gained immunity to the toxin of insect-type monsters.

“But why did the rest increase?”

Strength, Agility, and Stamina had all increased.

And not just by a little, but far beyond the maximum stats normally obtainable from the Thousand Training Tower.

“I got extra rewards, then.”

I recalled the final expression on Daesoo’s face before I left the dungeon.

He grumbled to the very end, calling me all sorts of names, so I was just relieved to finally receive proper Mana stats.

Never did I imagine they’d add more rewards.

“His Excellency must have been deeply impressed by my tenacity.”

I wonder what he would have done if he’d realized it was all Taejun’s scam.

I nonchalantly ignored Manager Mi’s muttering and rechecked my Status Window.

Thanks to this, my average stats had exceeded 80.

Status Window Synchronization Rate has increased by 5% due to stat growth. Current Synchronization Rate: 20%

A new function has been unlocked upon achieving 20% Synchronization Rate.

Another new function unlocked in my Status Window.

“Oh.”

My eyes widened as I reviewed the function.

I’d need to examine it more closely to be sure, but…

For now, the unlocked function was nothing short of amazing.

Immediately after checking the newly acquired Status Window function…

Another Status Window had activated.

Unlike before, this time a new phrase had been added:

Upgrade a function of the Status Window?

Manager Mi shook the chat window as if even more astonished than I was.

Ignoring his mumbling, I turned my head, deep in thought.

My growth had far exceeded my initial expectations. Ascending to C-rank for my next goal was no longer just manageable—I could accomplish it with my eyes closed. And now, this completely unexpected growth quest.

If that’s the case…

“I need to revise my plans.”

All promotions, except for S-rank, are conducted under the auspices of the Hunter Union’s headquarters.

Thus, the day after returning from the Thousand-Day Training Tower,

I left home early in the morning and arrived at the headquarters in Yongsan.

As soon as I entered the main building, Manager Mi swayed dizzily, shaking her chat window.

“Why?”

In truth, the lobby of the Union headquarters was already packed to the rafters.

It was hard to tell if I was at the headquarters or a bustling marketplace.

But this was a familiar sight to me.

So, I actually scolded Manager Mi.

“What’s wrong with outdated Status Windows?”

“Hmm, how should I put it? It feels like a tenth-circle archmage peering down at a tightly packed goblin village. Do you understand what I mean?”

“That’s a bit much.”

So, you’re saying you considered me no better than a goblin when we first met during that Q&A session?

“Ahem, and the people gathered here… they seem weak, even beyond their outdated Status Windows…”

The quick-witted Manager Mi swiftly smoothed over her words.

I nodded in agreement.

“True, most of the applicants are D-rank.”

The C-rank license assessment carries minimal risk, as it’s conducted in a simulation room rather than a real dungeon. Thanks to this, during the promotion application period…

The area becomes a sea of D-rank awakeners who have gathered from all corners of the land.

“I was stuck in that crowd myself until last year.”

Caught between porters and guides engaging in a tense standoff, each boasting about their pathetic guilds.

All for a chance to obtain a C-rank license.

But not right now.

I bypassed the long queue of hunters locked in fierce competition.

And headed to the information desk in front of the elevator inside the management headquarters lobby.

“How may I assist you?” the receptionist asked with a smile.

I immediately stated, “I’m here to apply for the B-rank special promotion exam.”

“Huh… a special promotion exam?” The receptionist’s face registered surprise.

He tapped on the computer at his desk, then asked again, “So you’re a D-rank license holder applying to take the B-rank promotion exam this quarter?”

Technically, even D-rank holders are eligible to take the B-rank exam.

Of course, that wouldn’t be possible for the A-rank exam, held only once a year, or the S-rank exam, conducted internationally every few years.

“That’s right. I don’t see any problems with your application.”

“There are no issues. However, it’s been quite some time since the last special assessment…”

As far as I knew, it had been five years since the last one.

In any case, since the system hadn’t been abolished, I asked without much concern:

“Are there any special eligibility requirements?”

“You need a record of passing the stat measurement and one nationally recognized achievement. Meeting those two conditions is all it takes.”

The receptionist, tapping at her computer, continued:

“Um, and this isn’t a requirement, but if there’s a glaring skill gap during the assessment… there’s a provision for mandatory disqualification and a three-year ban on reassessment applications.”

Skipping a whole rank comes with a significant penalty.

But for me, such a rule was meaningless.

“So, the requirements are public achievements and stats?”

Stats could be easily verified using the measuring devices at the Alliance Headquarters. While the devices couldn’t provide precise numbers as displayed in the Status Window, they could still assess my capabilities, determining something like “Capable of operating at the B-rank level.” In any case, resolving this issue would be straightforward.

The remaining concern was public achievements.

My past experience as a porter for the Bicheon Guild wouldn’t count towards that.

But that didn’t matter.

“Speaking of achievements, I sealed a gate.”

“A gate?”

“Yes. The one from three weeks ago.”

“Ah, could it be…”

The guide’s eyes widened, and he froze in place.