Mackenzie Dronak.

Lord of the Ruby Mage Tower, craving recognition, an extremely extroverted 9-circle attention-seeking mage.

Yes.

An attention seeker.

A Catalog title that suited him perfectly.

He proved it from the very first moment he was summoned.

He darkened the living room, announced his presence with miniature fireworks, and then dropped two spotlights.

The performance continued.

The stars of the show were Juhyeok and Mackenzie.

Everyone else was just background.

SQUEEZE!

Mackenzie suddenly wrapped his arms around the stiffly standing Juhyeok.

The two spotlights merged into one.

At the same time, majestic background music began to play.

Ta-daaan! Tta-ja-ja-ja-jan... tta-jan!

It was a truly perfect stage.

Rose petals conjured through illusion magic covered the entire living room.

It was an astonishing sight.

“Thank you! Truly, thank you! No—mere thanks are not enough, for you have pulled me out of hell!”

“Ah, yes, yes...”

“We are truly a match made in heaven. I felt it the moment we met. You felt it too, didn’t you, Summoner?”

A match made in heaven, my ass—

The heartfelt, powerful hug continued.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, the Mad Demon finally spoke.

“That damned attention-seeking bastard. I’m worried. Seriously worried.”

Mackenzie turned a cold glare toward the Mad Demon.

“What? Jealous?”

“Jealous? As if I would be jealous of the likes of you.”

“Then why are you picking a fight?”

“Let me say one thing. If you pull that meteor-summoning nonsense outside the Tower again, you die by my hand.”

...

Did that strike a nerve?

Mackenzie’s expression twisted instantly.

And then—

FWOOSH!

Flames roared up behind his back.

CRRRRZZZZT!

Electric sparks crackled from the tips of his bristling hair.

What was this?

It did not feel threatening.

It was not even hot.

It was merely a visual effect expressing his anger.

... He really was like a living anime character.

It seemed to be a kind of magic that manifested unconsciously according to Mackenzie’s emotional state.

“Damn it! Why would you bring that up?!”

FWOOSH! CRRRRZZZZT!

“Do not get carried away. The moment you even show signs of summoning a meteor, your head will go flying.”

“... Tch! You dare, knowing your place? You think that’s possible?”

“When did I ever say I would do it alone?”

“If not alone—”

At that moment—

Mackenzie realized there were others glaring at him as well.

SHOOOO!

Meatshield enlarged his body through giantification.

SHU-SHO, SHU-SHUSHUT!

Cossack lightly shifted his footing, making wind noises with his mouth.

TSHHT!

Gyeon Dallae pulled a talisman from inside her robes and looped it around one finger.

SHRRRK!

At some point, Aliamari’s homunculus had already wrapped itself around Mackenzie’s lower body.

PSSHHHK!

The visual flames behind him vanished.

The hair that had been standing on end with sparks settled back down.

Gulp.

After swallowing once, Mackenzie spoke.

“... I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You look like you might. So please, go ahead and cause trouble. It’ll make it easier to deal with you cleanly.”

“Kill me? You think that’s possible? The Summoner would never just stand by.”

“Rule Three, Clause Three!”

“... Fuck.”

SWOOOONG.

Mackenzie’s form dulled.

All the flashy visual effects vanished.

He simply turned dark.

As if someone had painted over him in black.

“Wow.”

The more you looked at him, the funnier he was.

A summoned entity who showed different special effects for every emotion—openly and vividly.

A genuine comic-book man.

A rare one, indeed.

His background description had said:

His magic also boasted extremely flashy effects, with full awareness of people’s attention.

So that was what it meant.

Even now, Mackenzie continued growing darker.

Not figuratively—literally black.

“Do not take Earth lightly. Especially here!”

“I’ll say it again—never summon a meteor outside the Tower.”

“...”

“Answer!”

“... Understood.”

Juhyeok simply watched.

It was entertaining, but it also felt like the Mad Demon and Mackenzie shared some kind of history.

They would sort it out themselves.

That aside—meteor summoning.

Was it even possible inside the Tower?

“Well then, since Mr. Mackenzie is now part of the family, White Tower Floor 17 Residency Rights—”

“Wait a moment!”

Huh?

Mackenzie suddenly raised his hand.

FLAAASH!

A shining radiance burst out.

The spotlights descended again.

Ugh, it was dizzying.

Dark one moment, shining the next.

“I have a request, Summoner.”

Juhyeok already knew what it was.

“Please dismiss my summon right now.”

Just as expected.

“Give me about ten hours. It is tight, but I need to go boast as quickly as possible.”

Understandable.

A soul starved for attention and recognition would never miss a chance to brag.

But how much bragging was he planning to do if even ten hours was tight?

There was no helping it.

He had to grant the wish.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Go brag to your heart’s content.”

“Thank you! Hahahahaha!”

Mackenzie floated up into the air.

WIIIIING!

Nine glowing circular rings spun endlessly around his entire body like hula hoops.

Special effects at every possible opportunity.

No telling what he would be like inside the Tower, but he was definitely entertaining.

“Mackenzie Dronak, Dismiss Summon.”

“Hahahahaha!”

POOF!

And just like that, Mackenzie returned to the Infinite Prison immediately after being randomly summoned.

Anyway, now that he was gone—

“Wasn’t that a bit harsh? He’s still LSSR rank, and you were already talking about killing him.”

“Not at all! He is the sort who could snap at any moment. The second you lower your guard, who knows what kind of catastrophe he will cause.”

Really?

He seemed like a decent person.

A person who showed his emotions instantly and vividly through special effects, no less.

Ding!

: If he does anything stupid, I’ll blow him up with a homunculus.

Even Mari was extremely wary of him.

“A man who enforces Rule Three, Clause Three with such strange logic... stay strong, Summoner.”

“This warrior will remain at your side and watch closely.”

“You must not lower your guard for even a moment.”

Says who?

They had all forgotten what they used to be like before they turned into frogs.

He needed to go see Commissioner Jeon Gwangil.

There were several things he wanted to ask.

Ah!

And Mr. Rajix’s badge ceremony still had to be held.

That could wait until everyone gathered later.

China was being swept up in a storm of chaos.

A terrorist bombing at the Continental Crisis Management Headquarters.

It was an extremely serious incident.

The earlier deaths of the former chairmen had all already been explained.

Lin Chaoming—heart attack.

Wang Yuan—killed by Bailong.

But the recent deaths of Chairman Liu Zhao and the Standing Committee members remained a complete mystery.

The motive, the method, the suspects... even the bodies had never been found.

The dead had all been leading figures in China’s political factions.

Their absence sparked power struggles everywhere.

And that was not all.

The dissatisfaction of Chinese players was boiling over.

In truth, the treatment of # Nоvеlight # Chinese players ranked near the bottom globally.

Inside China, they were constantly treated like punching bags.

That was despite China having the largest number of players in the world.

In this incident as well, under the pretext of hunting terrorists, public security forces swarmed them—forcing inventory inspections, interrogating their whereabouts at the time of the explosion, probing for “anti-Communist sentiments,” and harassing players day after day.

State-sponsored players were treated somewhat better.

But discrimination against ordinary Chinese players was severe.

They could no longer endure it.

They decided they could not keep taking it.

Thus, centered around several players, a tentatively named “Chinese Player Association” was formed.

They recruited members through social media and rapidly expanded their influence.

The Association’s first move:

The immediate suspension of the current oppression of players.

If their demands were not accepted, they warned that they would refuse to sell high-grade Magic Stones to China—and would even consider halting Tower climbs altogether.

Did the Chinese government accept those demands?

Of course not.

The Chinese government designated the Chinese Player Association as a rebel organization, announced strict investigations and punishment, and immediately began hunting down its leadership.

At this rate, could Tower progression even continue properly?

Of course, if they relied only on state-sponsored players, collapse could still be avoided.

The real issue was the resources extracted from the Tower.

Warning lights began flashing in China’s Tower materials market.

Ordinary Chinese players refused to climb the Tower.

And even those who did climb refused to sell high-grade Magic Stones to the government.

The conflict was growing more severe by the day.

Meanwhile, outside China?

The paradigm of science was changing.

In the 70th Floors of the Black Tower, humanity had encountered a revolution.

All of it driven by high-grade Magic Stones, which were transforming industry across the board.

The Black Tower was no longer seen merely as a nuisance, but as a treasure vault.

As long as collapse could be avoided, was the Tower not simply a mine for high-grade Magic Stones?

But not everything went smoothly.

The identity of the 80th Floor boss, revealed by the Korean Awakening Administration:

Nightmare, the Black Demon Knight.

An extremely dangerous monster.

A skill that put players to sleep.

Once trapped in dreams, players could do nothing and would simply be killed.

Staying awake was essential.

So what was the countermeasure?

Was there not some item, like the holy sword that had been key in the undead zones?

Of course there was.

On the Korean Awakening Administration homepage, a huge banner appeared the moment someone entered.

An item scheduled to be sold soon in the Player Shop—

a Dream Resistance Kit for clearing the 80th Floor boss, Nightmare, the Black Demon Knight.

The package consisted of one bottle of Potion of Sleep Control Magic and one Exorcism Talisman.

Two items per set.

Price: one million dollars per set, tax included.

A product sold exclusively to state-sponsored players.

After all, it was the 80th Floor.

Ordinary players could not even reach it.

The moment the banner went up, preorders poured in.

Nearly every country currently clearing the 70th Floors contacted the Administration.

The United States called directly—Director Antonio himself.

— Hello, former Commissioner.

“Haha, have you been well, Director?”

— I’m always free, you know. More importantly, you must be busy, former Commissioner. You need to level up as a player, and you still have commissioner duties to handle.

“At this point, I’m almost regretting awakening as a player.”

— Hahaha, you exaggerate. With talent like yours, too.

Talent, my ass.

Anyway, he wanted to reserve Dream Resistance Kits.

“How many do you need?”

— Let’s start with thirty sets. Would that be possible?

“It will be possible, but you’ll have to wait a bit. We’re only taking reservations for now.”

— I can wait as long as needed.

“I’ll make sure yours are prepared with special care.”

— Oh! By the way, about the Pyongyang terror attempt.

“... Yes? Why bring that up?”

— There’s a rumor that China was behind it.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. The North Korean government probably does.”

— Then it’s not connected to the Beijing explosion either?

“I told you already—I don’t know anything. That is also something the Chinese government should clarify.”

— Ah! Yes, yes. Understood.

“Then we’ll end it here.”

Click!

Commissioner Jeon Gwangil hung up.

“Who are you trying to fool?”

Of course, Jeon Gwangil already knew.

He knew who the bombing at the Beijing Continental Crisis Management Headquarters was connected to.

The United States probably knew as well.

But they would never truly find out.

Nor should they.

Honestly, seven deaths were not enough.

No matter how powerful those people had been.

Those damned Chinese bastards.

If it were up to him, he would have blown up all of Zhongnanhai.

At that moment—

Ding!

A smartphone notification rang out.

He checked it.

“Oh!”

It was from Player Bong.

— I’m thinking of visiting the Korean Awakening Administration today. Is the timing okay?

Of course it was okay.

He would cancel every schedule he had if necessary just to meet him.

Jeon Gwangil hurriedly replied.

— Please come whenever it is convenient for you. I’ll be waiting.

The Infinite Prison.

The sorrow of those left behind.

Being unsummoned was painful enough already.

「I swear I’m not lying—I was just shouting heave-ho! over and over. And then suddenly? I felt my body floating, my five senses came alive. When I opened my eyes, there was an old man who looked like the Mad Demon, a hamster beastman, and a magic-empire gunmage standing right there...」

...

...

...

「My first impression of Earth’s Summoner was... how should I put it? A soulmate of my soul? Two sides of the same coin? Opposite poles of a magnet? You all know it, right? The truth that extremes resonate with each other.」

『...』

『... White Tower?』

『You didn’t go in there?』

『If I accepted Residency Rights, I wouldn’t be able to come back here. So I asked him to Dismiss Summon me right away. I wanted to at least say goodbye to all of you.』

[Go.]

『Hurry up and go!』

[Shut up.]

『That’s enough already.』

『Tch, this is unbearable—just get lost.』

『Fuck you, bastard.』

『What is wrong with all of you? I shouted heave-ho so hard every time you prayed. And look—it worked! Hahahahaha!』

That damned attention-seeking mage.

The souls were being driven insane.

They had to listen to him brag for a full ten hours.

And when time finally passed—

in the now-quiet world of souls, stilled by envy, jealousy, disappointment, and rage, someone sent out a telepathic message.

『... Hea—』

At the same time—

[—ve.]

『Hea—』

[—ve.]

『Hea—』

『—ve.』

The voices were not loud.

But they were desperate.

At the Korean Awakening Administration Tower Materials Warehouse, Juhyeok met with Commissioner Jeon Gwangil.

They had both been so busy lately that they had only spoken over the phone.

“Player Bong, it’s been a while.”

“Haha, how have you been? Have you leveled up much?”

“Well... I haven’t had time to enter the Tower.”

“That’s a shame!”

If he could, Juhyeok would have loved to enter the Tower together and carry him through it.

But the rules for clearing Towers required solo play, so there was no easy way around it.

They talked about many things.

The supply of Dream Resistance Kits for the 80th Floor,

methods for clearing giant monster zones beyond the 81st Floor,

distribution of Tower materials, and more.

“Commissioner.”

“Yes.”

Jeon Gwangil already knew almost everything about him.

That being the case, Juhyeok felt it was time to tell him about White Tower Floor 17 as well.

There were things he needed to confirm.

“I have a place I’ve been assigned.”

“Assigned? An apartment? Where—”

“The White Tower, 17th Floor.”

“... Pardon?”

What did that even mean?

Was there an apartment building called the White Tower?

“It’s easier to show you than explain it. If you’re not busy...”

“Ah—n-no, I’m not busy.”

“Then here. Take this.”

Juhyeok pulled out a sheet of paper from his inventory and handed it to Jeon Gwangil.

Issued on White Tower Floor 17.

<One-Day Trial Pass>

Unlike the permanent Residency Rights card, the one-day trial pass was made of thin paper—so fragile it looked as though it might tear if handled carelessly.

It did not cost much either.

Just 1 kg of high-grade Magic Stones.

Jeon Gwangil looked confused as he accepted the paper.

In that instant—

TSZZZT!

Letters were engraved onto the paper.

What?

— White Tower Visitor: Jeon Gwangil

At the same time—

Ding.

A message rang out in his mind.

[A temporary skill has been registered to your universal skills.]

“... Uh.”

Jeon Gwangil’s eyes widened.

His Status Window had changed.

This was something Juhyeok had long been curious about.

When summoned entities were granted Residency Rights, they fully moved in.

Then what about players?

What happened if players were granted access?

“Do you feel any changes?”

“I—I do.”

“What kind of...?”

“There’s an additional entry in my universal skills...”

Jeon Gwangil’s Status Window now read:

[Universal Skills]:

Tower Entry (once per day) / Tower-Exclusive Inventory / White Tower 17th Floor Entry & Exit (valid for 24 hours)

For players, it registered as a skill.

Since it was a one-day trial, it lasted only 24 hours.

“Would you like to try entering?”

“Where? The 17th Floor?”

If he was told to do it, then he would.

He was curious anyway.

Jeon Gwangil quietly activated the skill.

White Tower 17th Floor Entry.

Instantly—

SPOT!

The surroundings changed in the blink of an eye.

Just moments ago, he had been inside the Korean Awakening Administration warehouse.

This is... the White Tower?

It had to be.

He had entered through a system skill.

“... Wow.”

His mouth fell open and refused to close.

Houses were scattered throughout the area.

Asphalt roads stretched between them.

In the distance stood something that looked like a communications tower, and beside it were buildings whose purpose he could not even guess.

My god.

How could this be a Tower?

At that moment—

“Wah?”

Someone appeared—no, a beastman.

Rajix stood before him riding a massive red wolf.

“Ah, h-hello.”

“WAAH!”

“Woof woof!”

Rajix wore a card necklace around his chest like an ID badge.

At a glance, Jeon Gwangil could read the words: White Tower 17th Floor Residency Rights.

Even the wolf had a small card necklace hanging from its neck.

So Rajix has Residency Rights... and the wolf does too...

Meanwhile, he had only a one-day trial pass.

“Waaah.”

Rajix gestured for him to follow.

Jeon Gwangil hurried after the red wolf.

Now that he thought about it—

his body felt full of energy.

It seemed player abilities worked inside the White Tower as well.

Before long, he saw a group of people gathered in the distance, chatting together in a small cluster.

“Oh! Former Commissioner!”

“Welcome.”

“You were granted Residency Rights as well?”

Jeon Gwangil held up the scrap of paper Juhyeok had given him.

“... It isn’t Residency Rights. Just a one-day trial.”

“Tsk tsk, I see. We have permanent Residency Rights.”

They proudly displayed the plastic cards hanging from their necks.

“You’ll need to keep putting in effort from now on. Permanent Residency Rights are not given to just anyone.”

“Well, perhaps one day.”

“Ehh, Residency Rights are not handed out so easily.”

“The former Commissioner isn’t just anyone, though.”

“Still feels like he’s a little short.”

“Wah!”

Jeon Gwangil felt strange.

Almost as if he were being left out.

Permanent Residency Rights...

What would it take to get them?