Game 10: Call Me Loner
With one hand, Han Tae-yang closed his nose like a child in a swimming pool. His cheeks swelled, his eyes opened, and he muttered under clenched teeth, No dust, thank you very much. He was not ignorant that the greedy bamboo-staff Duke tree would attempt to spit out sleep powder like a skunk in the defense of his territory. Had the stuff gotten in his lungs, he would be snoring on the forest floor before he could utter the words, Game over.
The air was dry and bark-like and of bitter herbs, the sort of sharp, dusty smell that scraped the throat. The deep inhalation he had made in his lungs pained him. He clenched his chest, and every muscle in it screamed, and the air was locked in. He nearly felt the imaginary countdown in his head. Three minutes of oxygen, tops. After that? Bye-bye, consciousness.
He walked briskly on, his feet crunching the dry leaves that lay on the ground. Each step kicked up more dust. He had watery eyes, not with feeling but with the sting of the invisible cloud that hovered round the great trunk of the tree. He was in the shade of the greedy Duke tree, the bark of which was scar tissue and the canopy of which blocked half the sky. There were long, bamboo-like extensions that protruded like crooked spears, and at the center of its body was a slight glow, the beating heart he had to hit.
"Breath and stab the core; do not die. Easy tutorial mission, right?" Sarcasm dripped in his head; he whispered. "Well, there is nothing suspicious about a first-time quest that literally makes your lungs enemy number one, right? Who was it that made this Tower of God… must have been a hater of children?"Han Tae-yang bent his knees, muscles coiling. He dashed forward, a blur against the roots snaking across the ground. Each root was thick enough to trip him, but he hopped, skipped, and slid like a parkour reject at gym class. His vision tunneled. All he saw was the core glowing faintly in the tree's chest.
He leapt.
The air roared in his ears as his body soared upward, hands gripping tight around a jagged branch he'd torn earlier. The branch felt heavy and rough, its surface scraping his palm. His knuckles went white as he raised it overhead like a spear.
The tree reacted instantly. A hollow rumble echoed inside its trunk, deep and guttural like the belly growl of a monster woken from a nap. Then, fwoooosh. A blast of powder burst out from cracks in the bark. White, glittery dust sprayed everywhere, sparkling in the dim light like cursed fairy dust.
His lungs begged him to breathe. And his chest convulsed. Even his body screamed. But he gritted his teeth and forced every muscle to obey. No air. Not yet. Don't be an idiot. Hold it. Hold it!
The powder cloud wrapped around him, cold and prickly, making his skin itch like thousands of tiny ants crawling all over. His eyes burned, tears leaking freely. He squinted through the sting, jaw locked tight.
"Damn it, why does this feel like getting attacked by an air freshener from hell?"
He slammed the branch downward. The jagged end struck the glowing core with a sickening crunch, splinters flying. The core pulsed, resisting, but he roared through his shut throat and jammed it deeper. His arm shook violently, tendons stretching like bowstrings.
The greedy Duke tree shrieked. Not a sound with a voice, but a howl made of wind and vibration. The hollow trunk blasted out a massive gust of air, so strong it rattled the leaves, bent the smaller trees nearby, and almost flung Tae-yang off balance. His cloak whipped behind him like a flag about to tear off. His body trembled, feet sliding against the ridged bark. He clung to the branch like his life depended on it, because it did.
Of course, he thought bitterly, even trees in this tower have built-in hurricane mode. Perfect.
The gust tried to push him back, peel him away like an insect. His grip slipped an inch. His palm ripped open, blood slicking the branch. He grimaced, twisted his body sideways, and shoved with his last ounce of strength. The branch pierced through the core.
Light burst outward. The canopy above shivered. Leaves shook loose, fluttering like green rain. The greedy Duke tree's defenses faltered, its powder cloud thinning, scattering under its windstorm.
Then the system chimed.
[Congratulations! You are the first player to defeat the greedy bamboo-staff Duke tree.]
The robotic voice was flat, cheerful, almost mocking. Tae-yang dangled from the trunk, gasping now that he finally let his lungs suck in air. He coughed violently, wheezing, choking, and spitting. His chest felt like it had been crushed by a sumo wrestler. He dropped from the trunk and landed on his knees, still hacking.
"Yeah… congratulations, me," he muttered between coughs. "Step one to greatness: choke on magical tree dandruff."
The tree began to wither, bark peeling back, branches sagging. The once glowing core flickered, then dimmed like a dying lantern. The mighty canopy that had looked so invincible minutes ago crumbled away, breaking apart into drifting fragments of dust that faded into the sky.
Tae-yang wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, leaving streaks of dirt and blood across his cheek. He tilted his head back, letting out a long sigh of relief.
"It wasn't a waste. Eleven years. Eleven years of my pathetic life spent grinding in this cursed game, and look at me now, still pathetic, but at least alive. Thank you, puberty years, for teaching me the value of no social life."
The system chimed again.
[Your achievement will be recorded in the Hall of Fame tomorrow. Please enter your name here.]
A glowing box popped into existence in front of him, shimmering blue letters asking for his input.
Tae-yang's face soured instantly. His eyelids twitched. His whole body stiffened like he'd just seen an old scammer uncle at a family reunion.
"Just as I thought," he muttered darkly. "This crappy system… asking for personal information again. Typical. What's next, my email? Mother's maiden name? Credit card number?"
He waved his hand dismissively at the hovering box. "Nope. I would rather not provide my name. Can I keep everything anonymous? I already know how this goes. One moment of fame, then boom, neighbors asking for loans, random cousins crawling out of the woodwork. Forget it. I would rather not be public enemy number one."
His thoughts tumbled fast. He remembered the countless nights he'd spent alone, eyes glued to the glowing monitor, pushing through raid after raid while everyone else moved on with their lives. He had been the first to beat the game back then, before it fused with reality. And he had all the information now. Guides, strategies, boss mechanics—it was his secret arsenal. If word spread that he was the top player…
"It'll cause trouble. Endless trouble. No way."
The system's glowing box flickered impatiently, as if mocking his paranoia. He glared at it like it was a stubborn salesman refusing to leave his doorstep.
Finally, with a huff, Han Tae-yang muttered, "Fine. You want a name? You'll get one."
He tapped the glowing box, the letters lighting up under his finger. Slowly, deliberately, he typed:
Loner.
(Authors note:)
Important Broadcast of Clone Number One.
Oi oi oi, humans! This is Clone Number One speaking live in the shadow dimension of the author (yes, I escaped again... do not ask me how). You should pay attention to you before you get lost like a noob in a 100-floor dungeon before you dive into this chapter.
All the chapters of this story are being rewritten!
Our writer, the great Little LYTA has blasted through and is in Chapter 40 of the great re-editing crusade. All that precedes 40 is glossy, smooth and full of new surprises, and in case you miss it, you will surely get lost. Don't say I didn't warn you. Re-read. Re-READ. RE-READ!
[?][?] The protagonist is no longer Kim Do-hyun, but the ultimate, spicy, clone-abusing Han Tae-yang. It is the same world, the same mess but everything is new as a respawn point at dawn.
Current stats:
There were 82 chapters in Story originally.
Re-write entire: 40 chapters (and more).
Skeleton? Rebuilt. Muscles? Buffed. Comedy? Overdosed.
Now for the fun part:
ALL top supporters, commenters, gifters, voters, readers, golden ticket droppers, and active fans have been... ahem... absorbed into the story as characters. Yes, you, yes you reading this, your name might be canon. Wish to be remembered when this novel explodes? Leave your mark. Stand out. When the book goes mythical, your name will be heard in the annals of webnovel history.
Side note: Little LYTA is in webnovel account restrictions (ask me not, long story with a coffee spill and possibly a cursed system administrator), and therefore cannot respond to your comments. BUT, he sees everything. So support, lay aside your thoughts, and in case you have questions that are burning, or fan missions that are a secret...
Join the Discord: @lyta17
Every member of the server will receive special fan rewards (believe me, it is worth it, most likely).
Alright, that's all from your humble servant, Clone Number One. I'm off to convince Tae-yang not to send me to work at "Crazy Tom Logistics" again. My back hurts, man...
[?][?] Let's do this, fans. Re-read, support, and leave your mark. The tower awaits.
.Clone Number One, signing off [?]