Back then, Bong Juhyeok was at his family home.

He’d stopped by on the way—before returning to the Cheongdam-dong place from the Namyangju villa.

He’d been calling often, but it had been a long time since he’d actually seen their faces.

“I’m here. Juhyeok’s here.”

But then—

“Uh, w-welcome. N-no... nothing....” His father trailed off, then corrected himself. “No, I guess there is.”

His father was watching his expression.

‘Hmm.’

Is it hard for him to deal with a son who’s growing into the richest man in the world?

‘Fair enough.’

He got it.

Even for parents, having a kid doing too well could be a burden.

His younger brother Minhyuk also shuffled out of his room, half-awkward.

“Bro? You’re okay, right? You’re not... thinking bad thoughts or anything, are you?”

What’s with this little punk now?

Bad thoughts, my ass.

Mom spoke in a calm voice, too.

“Juhyeok, don’t take it too hard. You’ve made so much money. Just because it broke doesn’t mean you have to regret anything. Maybe later, when technology advances, it can be repaired.”

Ah.

Now I understood.

“Wait—are you trying to comfort me because the holy sword broke?”

“Ahem. If you can’t be a holy-sword owner, what’s wrong with being a building owner? Take the money you’ve saved and buy a building.”

“We’ve lived without greed this whole time, bro. It’s okay. Everything will work out.”

“And the money you gave us before—I haven’t spent a single won. I kept it safe. You can take it back.”

Jesus. Not a single won?

This weak-man family, I swear.

“I knew this would happen. I told you to spend it however you want. I’ve got money, okay? Mom, go luxury shopping at a department store, okay? Dad, buy yourself a high-end car, okay? And Minhyuk, go to an Apple Store and buy the most expensive pad they’ve got—make the staff clap for you, okay?”

Minhyuk stared at me, blank-faced.

“...What are you talking about? Why would they clap for me?”

“That’s just how it works, you little punk!”

No choice.

I was planning to save the “holy sword repair” as a decisive moment—BANG!—for later.

I’d even coordinated it with Jeon Gwangil.

But—

“Whew. Mom, Dad, and Minhyuk.”

The family could know, at least.

It wasn’t some massive secret.

“The holy sword... I fixed it.”

“...Fixed it? It snapped clean in half three days ago.”

“I reattached it. Perfectly. But it’s a secret, so don’t go blabbing about it anywhere.”

“Y-you... really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not lying?”

“It’s me. Bong Juhyeok. If I lie, it shows right away.”

“Well... that’s true....”

In that instant, Dad’s eyes lit up.

“Then can I buy a car?”

“Buy it. A good one. Just don’t drive fifty kilometers an hour on the highway later.”

“Huh? Is there some crazy bastard who does that?”

“...Probably not right now.”

Still, I was grateful they’d worried.

“But aren’t you feeding me?”

“Just wait a second. I’m setting the table right now—”

“Ah, I’m starving. Hurry—”

That was when it happened.

[World Notice: Humanity encounters an intelligent demon monster for the first time.]

[World Notice: High-Ranking Demon Kabalan Duke (Copy) observes the world.]

A World Notice?

What the hell is this now?

The mood in the house wasn’t normal either.

Everyone froze mid-motion, then flinched.

“D-demon? Is that like... a pork hock name?”

“Why can I hear this?”

“Mom too?”

“Y-yeah. It’s ringing right next to my ear.”

“Why is Duke Carnival observing us?”

“It’s not Carnival. It’s Kabalan.”

“Right, right. Carnival Copy.”

They’d all heard it.

Juhyeok realized it.

World Notice.

The recipients were, literally, the “world.”

*****

From Black Tower (France) Floor 65 through Floor 66, 67, 68, and 69—one continuous streak, without stopping.

Because it was Black Tower (France), French Players were the first to recognize it.

At first, all they felt was shock.

Five floors cleared all at once?

No—had the Black Tower lost its mind?

Was it some kind of system error?

The clear timestamps were spaced one second apart by floor.

No matter how you thought about it, it wasn’t normal.

And then came the next message.

This time, it was a “World Notice.”

Not just French Players—every Player across the entire world, no, every person on Earth...

Everyone heard it.

Even the elderly couple walking down the street holding hands.

Even the elementary, middle, and high school students heading home after class.

The merchants selling goods in the market, and the laborers on construction sites.

Politicians, civil servants, office workers, shut-in unemployed... even newborn babies heard it.

Of course, they wouldn’t have understood the meaning.

But in this moment, the world must have gone quiet.

Kabalan Duke?

Curse of the Average?

Match Floor 70?

Why 70, of all numbers?

The world fell into chaos. What, exactly, was all this for?

After the uproar swept through, people turned their eyes to France.

Because the first anomaly had occurred there.

Five floors cleared in five seconds, and France’s Tower progress flipping to Floor 70 overnight.

The French government couldn’t hide it.

They had no choice but to make it public.

Why it had happened.

The clue was the death of the top Player, Guillaume Loiret.

CCTV footage from the cameras installed in Guillaume’s residence—set up because Guillaume had long been monitored due to depression.

Guillaume entered the Tower, and right after the Global Notice and World Notice rang out, Guillaume appeared again—dead.

From that, one hypothesis took shape.

“There is an item called a Tower Jumping Ticket. The reward chance is extremely slim, but it does exist.”

Director Antonio’s face was stiff as they reported to Minister MacMillan.

“I know. And I know it’s a damn useless item.”

“Normally, government collection and storage is the principle, but...”

“So Guillaume was hiding it.”

“Yes. That’s how it was possible to clear five floors in a day. And there’s an extremely high probability that Demon Kabalan Duke is the boss of Floor 70.”

“Probability? It’s certain.”

The first intelligent monster.

And it spreads a curse outside the Tower?

Curse of the Average.

Ten countries were selected.

Republic of South Africa, Mexico, Saudi Arabia, America/USA, Japan, the Netherlands, Senegal, Sri Lanka, Malaysia, Kazakhstan.

This was insane.

America was included too.

The selected countries had to clear upper floors fast.

Because it said the clear time limit would keep shrinking.

And it did shrink.

For example, the Tower progress Status Window showed:

[Time Limit] : 101 days 5 hours 25 minutes 38 seconds

Like that—you could confirm down to hours, minutes, and seconds.

But then it began dropping rapidly.

The speed was getting “gradually” faster.

Like a time-bomb timer you’d messed with by accident, the time limit was falling at a terrifying pace.

Gradually, gradually, gradually—accelerating—

The curse was real.

“To lift the curse, it says we have to match an average of Floor 70... is that even possible?”

“Well, if there’s enough time given... it might be possible.”

There were 145 Towers on Earth.

Not every country had a Tower.

Some countries had one, some didn’t.

The criteria were population and territory size.

Countries with small territory, or populations under three ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) million, didn’t have a Tower built in them.

Also, for divided countries like North and South Korea, the Tower was unified as one.

Of course, some countries had multiple Towers.

One hundred forty-five Towers.

Assume every Black Tower on Earth rises to an average of Floor 70.

Exclude repeat clears and re-clears.

Count only first-time ascents of uncleared upper floors.

If 145 Towers average Floor 70, the total required sum is 10,150 floors.

But the current worldwide average climbed floor was about Floor 55.

The total sum of first-time ascents of uncleared upper floors so far was about 7,975 floors.

10,150 minus 7,975 is—

“By simple calculation, the number of uncleared upper floors the world must clear from now on to reach an average of 70 is 2,175.”

“I’m going to lose my mind.”

Not everyone had to reach Floor 70.

Only the average had to match.

But was that possible?

“If countries below Floor 60 push themselves and climb ten floors or more...”

“Tch. Easy to say.”

“We’d have to apply pressure. Set Tower-clear quotas, too.”

“You’re saying something insane. Do you think that’s possible?”

That’s right.

Each country’s Tower climbing was purely decided by that country’s Players and government.

Would it work if you tried assigning quotas like, “Your country must clear the Black Tower to Floor X”?

And if a country refused cooperation with, “We weren’t selected among the ten countries, so we won’t rush climbing,” they’d draw hostile looks from other nations.

That was the terrifying part of the Curse of the Average.

A country that couldn’t reach the average, a country that dragged down the average, would obviously become the world’s outcast.

The seed of conflict was being planted.

If it went wrong, World War Three might break out.

“At this point, war might be easier. If we conquered the world and made it one country, how convenient would that be?”

“...Before that, the planet would be finished.”

“What about clearing Kabalan Duke?”

“Well. The condition is killing the True Body, not the Copy. There’s a high chance Kabalan on Black Tower (France) Floor 70 is also a Copy.”

Then where was the True Body?

“Somewhere among the 145 Towers’ Floor 70s. In the end, that means every country must clear Floor 70 to lift the curse.”

“Hahaha. We’re screwed.”

You could see the future clearly.

Black Towers collapsing across the globe.

Earth punched full of holes—BANG BANG.

The world changed in an instant.

From now on, the entire landscape of Tower climbing would change completely.

America was one of the ten selected countries, so clearing Floor 67 was urgent.

But the biggest remaining problem—

“If only the holy sword hadn’t broken...”

“Haa...”

The holy sword.

With the holy sword, reaching an average of Floor 70 wasn’t an impossible goal.

Countries in the 50s could be handled by advanced nations through temporary naturalization, and countries in the 60s could climb upward using the holy sword—

“The key is the holy sword. If we can repair the holy sword somehow, there’s hope.”

But could it be fixed?

Experts were overwhelmingly pessimistic.

Repair was impossible.

Even if it was repaired, it wouldn’t show the same effect as before.

“Should I contact the Korean government?”

“Again?”

“It’s urgent.”

“Just leave it. They’ll announce a stance soon. We can pray and wait.”

*****

Saudi Arabia felt like dying.

Putting aside the criticism from other countries—

They could just shut their eyes and endure that.

But Saudi Arabia’s name was included among the ten selected countries—told to climb rapidly to achieve the average.

Among the ten, only two were in the 60s: America and Saudi Arabia.

The other eight were all countries in the 50s.

In the 50s, there were many methods.

Temporary naturalization was one of them.

Players above Level 50 were fairly common.

So they could climb—some countries just delayed because they wanted to match the time limit.

But countries in the 60s?

Were Level 60+ Players common?

And now the holy sword was broken.

Originally, Saudi Arabia had the most time left on the clear time limit.

Because it had cleared most recently.

But the moment it was selected, the clear time limit began shrinking noticeably.

And because it had the most time left, it was shrinking the fastest.

King Ibn bin Alwahid of Saudi Arabia asked Minister Majed.

“Can Nasser clear Floor 67 within a month?”

“If he achieves Trait Enhancement one more time, then maybe...”

“I don’t need vague assumptions. I need certainty.”

“...”

Minister Majed couldn’t answer.

In fact, they had already deployed Nasser into Floor 67.

But Nasser couldn’t kill even a single Phantom Reaper.

It wasn’t even the same dimension as Specters.

Light-attribute items were basically trash.

In the middle of all this—if Trait Enhancement happened one more time?

It wouldn’t work.

In truth, even when Nasser challenged Floor 66, Nasser had already gone up after a Trait Enhancement.

And still failed.

They had no choice but to borrow the holy sword to succeed.

And now Floor 67?

“So it’s difficult.”

“...I—I’m sorry.”

“Hoo. If only the holy sword hadn’t broken.”

Broken?

It had been broken, but King Alwahid of Saudi Arabia refused to admit it to the end.

Japan was burning inside too.

Tower Collapse becoming reality.

The clear time limit dripping away like sand in an hourglass.

How were they supposed to clear Floor 58?

There was only one method.

Prime Minister Kawaguchi shouted at the foreign minister.

“Request it from Saudi Arabia. We formed a Tower Collapse defense treaty, so tell them to honor it.”

“We already requested it.”

“And their response?”

“T-they said Saudi Arabia is in a difficult situation right now too. And they said the defense treaty was only verbal, so it has no legal effect...”

“What?”

That was true.

They’d only talked about making a treaty—they hadn’t signed anything or stamped a seal.

“You piece of—!!!”

Then who was going to clear Japan’s Floor 58?

Tower Collapse was truly right in front of them.

*****

TOWER PLAYER AWAKENING ADMINISTRATION (Korea).

It was chaos there too, but comparatively relaxed.

Because they had something to rely on.

Park Kyungsoo asked Jeon Gwangil, who had just ended a call.

“Did you call? What did Player Bong say?”

“Yes. He said we can reveal it right away. He wants us to resume holy sword rentals quickly.”

“Whew. Then what about the rental fee?”

“He said to keep it the same. He said now isn’t the time to raise the holy sword rental fee.”

“Heh heh. Truly a great man. He could easily cash in big at a time like this.”

“That’s why he received the holy sword as a reward, wasn’t it?”

Park Kyungsoo nodded and continued.

“I wonder if people even know that gratitude.”

“They won’t. Just look at what Saudi Arabia is doing. They cleared Floor 66 using the holy sword’s power, then broke it, and now they act shameless.”

If they’d said even one word of apology, it wouldn’t have been this infuriating.

“What should we do? Japan is Japan, but we can’t just leave Saudi Arabia alone.”

“Don’t worry. I have an idea.”

“...What kind?”

Park Kyungsoo smiled, the expression sharp.

“If we reveal the repaired holy sword, Saudi Arabia will have no choice but to bow its head, right?”

Of course.

To survive, it would have to.

“But an ordinary apology won’t cut it.”

If you accepted a simple apology, you were basically a sucker.

“At minimum, they should crawl on all fours with a Trait Enhancement Rune, shouldn’t they?”

Jeon Gwangil also smiled as if satisfied.

“That’s right. A mere verbal apology is meaningless. We need something we can give Player Bong as well, don’t we?”

Trait Enhancement Runes.

An item that was hard to obtain now.

Early in Tower climbing, a lot had been released into the market.

Because the reward probability had been very high back then.

But as time passed, the probability kept dropping, and now it almost never appeared.

When it was flooding the market, the country that swept them all up was Saudi Arabia.

They would absolutely have at least one.

“When will the press conference to reveal the holy sword repair be?”

“Tomorrow. Immediately.”

“Will you do it personally?”

“I did it before, and it was exhilarating.”

“Hahaha. I’ll prepare it.”

*****

If you had to pick the most shocking events in human history—

First was the Towers’ appearance.

Second was the Mumbai Tower Collapse.

Third was the Tower’s World Notice.

Even ordinary people, who had been third parties until now, heard Kabalan Duke—no, the curse the Tower had imposed.

Of course the world turned restless.

Strange, terrifying, worrying, dazed... beyond words.

And in the middle of that, a press conference was announced by TOWER PLAYER AWAKENING ADMINISTRATION (Korea).

Was it about the holy sword repair?

Was it repaired? Or had it failed?

If repaired, could it fully demonstrate its original performance?

If it failed, would they hand it over to a country with stronger technology than Korea?

Every media outlet in the world focused on Korea.

The press conference was held in the ADMINISTRATION’s main auditorium, and there wasn’t even room to stand.

Park Kyungsoo stood at the podium.

Jeon Gwangil stood beside.

“First, please watch the footage.”

Footage?

The hall began to murmur.

A video played on the giant screen.

Bodycam footage.

A Specter was descending from the sky toward the ground.

In that instant—

Fwoooosh!

A brilliant light filled the screen.

“Gasp!”

“Ah...”

“T-that...?”

“My god!”

“Holy—!”

It was the holy sword.

The same holy sword they’d seen in old footage.

But the intensity—the Radiance—was completely different.

If the old Radiance had been firefly-level, this Radiance was a high-powered searchlight.

Slice, Slice, Slice,

With three cuts, the Specter burned up.

“The holy sword has been completely repaired.”

Park Kyungsoo continued, wearing a full smile.

“No—rather than repaired, it would be more accurate to say it has been reborn. Citizens, citizens of the world: you can rest easy about climbing the 60s. Do not worry. Continue your livelihoods.”

Silence fell over the hall.

“The repair of the holy sword was carried out personally by its owner. Yes—the very person who first obtained the holy sword. Humanity should rightly hold sincere gratitude toward that person. And then...”

Park Kyungsoo’s final line.

“We will now accept holy sword rental reservations.”

At the same moment, the press hall exploded into cheers that felt like the roof might lift.

Not just there.

Everywhere TVs were installed, it was the same.

Even if it wasn’t a perfect solution, it meant they’d crossed a dangerous ridge.

Everyone felt relieved.

Everyone was happy.

Everyone was grateful.

Of course, there were countries that couldn’t bring themselves to smile.

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