ebonymovies Chapter 287 286
Chapter 287 286
The dazzling productivity of the White Tower Integrated Production Center.
El and the non-combat production-type summoned personnel were churning out supplies for sinkhole-wave defense.
Supply of Chulri Weapons had been completed for nearly every nation.
Thanks to that, Earth No. 843—on the brink of ruin—managed to claw its way back and secure a foothold for survival.
Golems were still a bit scarce, but that too was resolved by having nations coordinate and lend them to one another whenever a wave occurred.
Now, there were no more casualties in wave defense battles.
Even if undead crawled up from the holes, there was nothing to fear.
With room to breathe, attention naturally shifted elsewhere.
A flood of questions.
Who was the South Korean player that had saved Earth from the nightmare of the Dark Wave?
They knew his nationality, but not his name or face.
They said he came from another Earth in a parallel universe.
People had watched videos of the feats he'd accomplished.
Honestly, it was absurd.
Ever since the Black Tower appeared,
the scientific laws humanity had believed in had already collapsed—
But still, a parallel universe? Really?
Up to now, his performance had been dazzling.
He broke through the undead zone, overcame Kabalon's curse, and even turned the situation around by supplying Chulri Weapons and golems.
After that, he charged ahead like a spear through bamboo, speed-climbing the tower and achieving the astonishing feat of reaching the 89th floor.
And now, the capture of the 90th floor—where the Sinkhole-Sealing Event would occur—was right around the corner.
Who on earth was he?
If parallel universes were real, what would that other world be like?
Curiosity aside, above all else, there was gratitude.
If only they knew who he was, they could offer proper recompense.
They wanted to make him a hero.
Lumitri Romenkup felt the same way.
Once the world's greatest player.
Lumitri, who had dreamed of fully conquering the tower after blitzing through the undead zone with twenty-five trait enhancements.
But he collapsed upon facing Kabalon on the 70th floor.
Kabalon, a high-ranking demon.
That thing was a devil.
On an entirely different level from the undead.
It could even speak.
It saw straight through his traits.
It invaded his mind, planted helplessness and fear, and even inflicted a horrific curse.
Thus began the Curse of the Average.
Its cause: Lumitri himself, his ascent to the 70th floor.
His mentality shattered.
Fear, terror, and guilt.
It's my fault.
If I hadn't climbed, this wouldn't have happened.
I should've just died there fighting Kabalon.
Lumitri could no longer reattempt the 70th floor.
He cut off all contact and hid himself away somewhere no one knew.
When the sinkhole waves began, his guilt only deepened.
But then—what was this?
The Curse of the Average had been lifted?
And even the wave defenses were resolved?
Was this a dream?
Was it really true?
His heart felt lighter.
His shattered mentality slowly began to recover.
Then… was a comeback possible?
He still wasn't confident.
Even if it was just a copy, even if its power was weakened—how was he supposed to face that demonic bastard?
But—
"I need a Holy Weapon and a Holy Armor set."
The only way to overcome his trauma.
The answer lay in items.
Equipment said to grant courage to the wearer, and fear to undead and demons alike.
But they were hard to obtain.
They were classified as national assets, complete with serial numbers—impossible to siphon off under the table.
"Then I'll have to go directly to the country where they're produced."
Lumitri gave instructions to his secretary.
"Prepare a passport and flights. Not under my real name—you know what I mean, right?"
"Yes."
He would deal directly with the producers.
And he needed to offer his thanks sincerely.
That was the real purpose.
He had become a symbol of evil.
He bore the hatred of the entire world.
Would he have done it if he'd known? It's unfair. I didn't know. It was a floor we'd have to climb eventually anyway.
Such excuses didn't work.
The media and broadcasts pilloried him daily.
Internet communities suspected him as an accomplice of the Black Tower.
U.S. government authorities even issued a manhunt for him.
He truly wanted to end his own life.
He had actually tried.
Then, in the midst of all that, a savior appeared.
Practically his lifesaver.
Lumitri was willing to give anything the man wanted.
Even his entire fortune, if necessary.
—
Capture of the One-Horned Evil Dragon Brakios: success.
The 90th floor could be cleared whenever they wished.
In truth, tracking him had taken quite a long time.
Krackers—or rather, Crackersus, the Ultra-Speed Flying Dragon —conducted dispersal flights of tracking units.
They circled China with no response.
Europe was the same.
North America, South America, Africa—nothing worked.
Then they got a hit in India.
Just as they were passing over the capital, Delhi.
From that point on, they used the trackers carefully.
Scatter them again and again—until they finally pinpointed a shabby building.
From inside, the aura of a Black Dragon could be felt.
Goba subdued the bastard via free fall.
But the moment they entered, they witnessed the scene.
About ten trembling children.
Adults collapsed after being hit by sleep magic.
That fucking bastard!
Juhyeok, the summoned ones—everyone was enraged.
Even their dimensional farmhand couldn't contain his shaking fury.
Let this slide?
They at least succeeded in locking him inside the red gourd.
So then?
Back at the White Tower, Juhyeok opened the lid of the red gourd.
"Brakios, come out!"
Nothing.
"Come out! Brakios, you bastard!"
Silence.
Why wasn't he coming out?
Then Kosak spoke.
"Master Bong Summoner, of course he won't come out."
Huh?
"Braki doesn't have residency rights, does he? So it's not that he won't come out—he can't."
"Ah!"
"You didn't know that either? Hehehe."
Damn.
To think the owner of the White Tower didn't know that.
In an instant—
Kyeondallae's thunderous scolding rang out.
"Kosak, you wretch!!!"
"…Yes'm?""
A sudden outburst?
"Why are you like this?""
"How dare you so casually bring up your master's shortcomings?"
"N-no, that's not what I meant—""
"The Young Master may make mistakes. Even so, it is the duty of a subordinate to let it pass in silence. And yet you couldn't restrain your tongue."
"…Mm."
"How heartbroken our benevolent Young Master must be—tsk! You useless fool!"
Kosak lowered his head deeply.
The summoned ones pointed fingers at him in blame.
In a way, it was pitiful.
Kosak worked hard too, yet the moment a flaw showed, he got torn apart.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I wasn't upset.""
When Juhyeok patted his shoulder—
"Haah! It's hard to endure."
"Huh? What is?"
"The fate of the number two."
"…."
Fate, huh.
"A summoned one in second place holds a glorious position. The responsibility is immense. One must constantly prove one's worth, and willingly endure the attacks of those rising up to seize the position."
"Ah! Yes, yes."
"You can think of it as a kind of jealousy. The other summoned ones must envy the achievements Kosak has built alongside Master Bong Summoner."
It really doesn't look like that.
"Don't worry. I'll crush all conspiracies and interference, and faithfully carry out my role as number two at Master Bong Summoner's right hand."
…
"Uh, I agree you've accomplished a lot, but… weren't you ranked 15th in the popularity poll?"
"It was rigged."
"And as far as I know, even in figure sales—"
"Someone hoarded them."
Desperately denying it.
Well, as long as you can win mentally like that.
Classic Kosak.
He really is a lot like me.
"Anyway, I wanted to beat him here, but since we can't pull him out, we'll have to move locations to beat him."
"Shall we go to the Black Tower's 90th floor?"
No.
Not there.
"Let's deal with him somewhere else."
"Where…?"
"Earth No. 675."
"Ah!"
Earth No. 843's Black Tower won't do.
The moment you enter the 90th floor, a mission appears.
Then you have to clear it—and you won't be able to beat him to your heart's content.
Even entering another floor, the administrators would realize Braki had been captured.
…
They'd pull some scheme again.
"There aren't any people on Earth No. 675. Let's beat the living hell out of that Braki bastard there."
Kyeondallae said, bowing so deeply she looked ready to fly.
"Truly wise, my lord. So brilliant you are—this maiden can only ever admire you."
Well, that's that.
Shall we prepare for a raid, then?
All summoned ones, assemble.
At Juhyeok's shout, more than three hundred people came rushing over.
"Taking volunteers. Assault teams for an Ancient Dragon raid—hands up!"
Flash, flash, flash, flash.
No one waited for anyone else.
Every single hand went up.
Shall we go, then?
Off to raid a dragon.
And give the rookie summoned ones some real combat training while we're at it.
The most important rule here:
Do not kill it.
That's why we need healers.
Not healers for our summoned ones—but healers to heal the One-Horned Evil Dragon, Braki.
And prepare a huge stockpile of healing potions as well.
Woooooong!
Paaat!
Juhyeok and the summoned ones took the elevator down to the first floor of the White Tower.
The place connected to Earth No. 675.
Since it was a large-scale transfer, the elevator had to make several trips back and forth.
The administrator of Earth No. 675's Black Tower was Juhyeok himself.
Whatever happened here, neither the administrators nor the main base would know.
[Entering the 90th floor of the German Black Tower.]
This floor had originally been guarded by another ancient dragon.
But after it was cleared, it had been replaced by draconic soldiers.
First things first.
"Brakios, come out!"
Whoosh—
The One-Horned Evil Dragon slid out.
"Y-you… you bastard!!!"
Brakios's voice trembled.
This was driving him insane.
He still didn't understand what was going on.
Where is this now?
Another tower?
He'd been trapped in some strange space that completely bound his mana—and now that he was out, it was inside a tower?
Clink!
An iron collar snapped around his neck.
Cha-cha-cha-cha—
Yellow talisman papers plastered themselves all over his body.
Brakios was terrified.
Pride didn't matter anymore.
He had to live.
He couldn't just be erased like this.
"Summoner! I'll surrender—surrender! Use me! I swear loyalty to you! I'll bark like a dog, just please!"
Juhyeok didn't even blink.
As if he'd ever accept a man-eating dragon.
Still, better to hold a trial before beating him senseless.
The justification was more than enough, but he needed to crank the anger gauge a bit higher.
Even the slightest hint of sympathy would be a problem.
"You have confessed your own crimes!!!"
Swoooosh!
Pabam!
"…Guhk! W-what is this now?!"
Papapapat!
A karma-recording projection appeared behind Brakios.
He really was a man-eating dragon.
The number of victims—thousands upon thousands.
Ah…
Should he have watched this?
For soft-hearted Juhyeok, the footage was shocking.
Watching people being eaten alive in real time—
Anyone who stayed calm after that would be the strange one.
The summoned ones also fell silent, faces twisted in fury.
Once his identity as a man-eating dragon was exposed, humans, elves, and dwarves from Brakios's continent formed an alliance to hunt him down.
But he was elusive.
He escaped again and again through schemes and deception.
Eventually, a revelation descended.
In the name of God, execute Brakios.
Heroes and apostles bearing divine mandate appeared.
Brakios was driven further and further into a corner.
Then, near the end of the footage—
A conversation between Brakios and someone else.
— Brakios, make a contract with us. We'll spare your life.
— A contract? A mere human claiming he'll save me? Ridiculous.
— Do I look like I'm lying? Judge for yourself whether my words are truth or falsehood.
— …Hmm. Hah. You really believe you can save me.
— Yes.
It looked like a Black Tower contract.
But something felt off.
The human brokering the deal—
Their face wasn't visible.
Only a blurred silhouette.
"He's not an administrator."
"That is correct."
"It's mosaic-blurred."
"The voice is altered as well."
"Likely a memory restriction."
Who was it?
Man or woman? Old or young?
— Fine. Let's say you can save me. But divine providence is already in motion. Can you defy the will of God?
— Yeah. I can.
— How?
— Because I'm not from this dimension. The laws of the gods here don't apply to me.
— …What? A human crossed dimensions?
— That's right. I'm a dimensional traveler.
What?!
Did I hear that right?
Is that the same kind of dimensional traveler I know?
The conversation continued.
— And we're going to devour the gods of this world soon.
— Devour them? You?
— Not me.
— Then who?
— The god we created.
— …What nonsense. You created a god?
— Yes. And it's already devoured other gods.
— I-it's true… this is also true.
— Did you think I'd waste time playing word games with you? Choose. Join us—or be devoured.
In the end, Brakios nodded.
The contract was formed.
And the footage ended.
"…."
"Hmph."
"…Mm."
"…Ah."
"…Uh."
Honestly, it was unsettling.
To think the forces behind the Black Tower were connected to dimensional travelers.
"We" created a god.
And that god planned to devour the god of Brakios's world as well.
And the one saying all this was a dimensional traveler.
…So the fifth-floor auction house didn't just appear out of nowhere.
That mysterious human probably used the auction house too.
"Wow."
It felt like betrayal.
He'd agonized over how to list good-quality items when registering goods.
They bought things well, too—he'd thought they were decent people.
"Still, not everyone can be bad."
"That is likely true. There are good people and bad people—such is the way of the world."
"Once things on Earth No. 843 settle down a bit, we should take a closer look at the dimensional auction house."
"A fine idea."
Now then—
Let's beat Braki.
Call everyone in, evenly.
Planned schedule: three days and four nights.
"Then let's begin."
"Yes, sir!"
Thus began the disciplinary education of the man-eating dragon.
Why go through all this instead of just clearing him outright?
It was a judgment of justice.
Or perhaps a memorial rite.
For the countless lives he had devoured.
Simultaneous deployment: 22 summoned ones.
At least five veteran summoned ones on rotation at all times; the rest were rookies.
The dragon raid unfolded.
Punching, slicing, stabbing, breaking, shattering.
Brakios was afraid.
In his long draconic life, had anything like this ever happened?
Even when he was hunted by divine heroes and apostles, it hadn't been like this.
It was all because of that man.
The summoner from Earth No. 1,001.
The one who forced him outside the tower.
Brakios knew.
The summoned ones he pulled forth from the world of souls.
Some of them were said to be among the strongest in the human realm.
But at best, they should've been adult-dragon level.
That was the limit—or so he'd heard.
They could never cross the wall.
So what was this?
Among them were many who rivaled him—no, who were stronger than him.
"J-just kill me already… keh!"
"Huh? He's dying. Heal him!"
"Splash potions!"
"Who used an ultimate just now?"
"…Ah, sorry. I suddenly got pissed."
"No ultimates. Basic attacks are enough."
Brakios resisted.
He transformed into his true form, fired breath attacks, tried to flee through the air.
But what did it matter?
General Bea shot him down with a few large-caliber shells.
Or the Ultra-Speed Flying Dragon Crackersus—now an ancient dragon himself—would chomp down on Brakios's neck and drag him back before the summoned ones.
If he tried to kill himself?
A saintess would heal him.
Or barriers would be placed.
He'd be stuffed back into the red gourd for a "rest period."
"…Please… give me the chance to choose dignity. I can't live like this."
Did you give others a choice?
A bastard who ate people for fun wants dignity now?
Not a chance.
"Group Thirteen, rotation in."
Summoned-one group swap.
Disciplinary session resumed.
"You don't have to hit him hard—just don't get hurt. Anyone injured is immediately pulled out."
Brakios was stripped down to his soul.
He couldn't do anything.
He had no choices left.
Juhyeok had no intention of ending things here.
They'd booked three days and four nights—and only one day had passed.
Clearing can wait.
And really, wasn't this the perfect opportunity?
Gain real combat experience for the rookies through a dragon raid.
Plus, there was the 90th-floor clear event.
The sinkholes would be sealed.
It would be a monumental event—the salvation of the world.
No way they'd just let it pass quietly.
Make it a global festival.
As grand as possible.
Prepare thoroughly—and finish it right.
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