Game 31: Booze, Blood, and Breaking News
Han Tae-yang leaned against the fence after his sparring session, chest heaving, sweat dripping, and a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
His sister Han Ha-neul stood opposite him, her Ghost Bride swirling beside her like a pale storm cloud stitched into human form. The phantom's torn hanbok shifted with each flicker of moonlight, casting ghostly shadows across the yard. Ha-neul herself was breathing hard, her arms trembling faintly, but her chin was raised like a queen claiming victory.
Tae-yang squinted at her.
She had grown stronger. The Ghost Bride wasn't some weakling pet anymore; with their synergy, Ha-neul could genuinely go toe to toe with him.
"Not bad, kid," Tae-yang said, wiping his forehead with the edge of his shirt. "If it was anyone else in your shoes, they'd be face down on the grass right now, drooling into the dirt. You? You actually pushed me to move. Respect."
Ha-neul smirked, proud but trying to hide how much she enjoyed hearing it.
Tae-yang's eyes softened, just for a moment. He remembered the upcoming Tower Trials, the endless dangers, the bloodbath that would chew up countless unprepared players. His little sister wouldn't be one of them. With her familiar, her quick wit, and his guidance, she'd survive.
He patted her on the shoulder.
"You'll be fine in the trial. Survive it. That's all I ask. Leave the flashy heroics to me."
The Ghost Bride tilted her head, glowing eyes watching him silently, as if acknowledging his words in her own spectral way.
---
Scene Shift – Seoul, Nightfall
Later that evening, the neon heartbeat of Seoul flickered alive as Tae-yang pushed open the creaky glass door of a small, smoky bar tucked between two tall apartment complexes.
The sign outside buzzed faintly in broken Korean and English: "Red Tiger Bar – Cold Beer, Warm Lies."
The interior was the usual: wooden counters scarred by years of spilled soju bottles, cracked leather stools that stuck to your pants if you sat too long, and the constant hum of an ancient ceiling fan that sounded like it might fling off a blade at any moment.
Tae-yang walked in with the lazy confidence of a man who had seen worse dives. His boots scuffed across sticky tiles as he slid onto a stool.
The bartender, a bald man with a handlebar mustache, squinted at him.
"You look like you wrestled a thunder god and lost. Beer or soju?"
Tae-yang tapped the counter.
"Beer. And keep it coming until I either pass out or ascend to enlightenment."
The bartender grunted, sliding him a frothy glass.
Tae-yang took a long pull, foam clinging to his upper lip. He wiped it away with his sleeve, sighing in contentment.
"Finally, a safe place. Just me, alcohol, and zero drama."
At that exact moment, the flat-screen TV bolted to the corner wall flashed to life. A breaking news alert.
The bar's chatter stuttered, fell quiet, then rose in shocked gasps.
On the screen, a stern-faced anchorwoman spoke over grainy footage of chaos inside the National Museum of Korea.
> "Breaking news tonight: tragedy has struck in Seoul. At least twenty-three people are confirmed dead, and over fifty others injured in what authorities describe as a violent raid at the National Museum. The death toll is expected to rise."
The footage rolled, shaky security cam clips of masked figures darting between shattered exhibits, glass crunching underfoot, artifacts ripped from pedestals. The sounds of screams, gunfire, and strange magical explosions filled the bar's speakers.
The entire bar leaned forward, stunned. A man in a construction vest muttered, "What in the hell…?"
Another woman gasped, hand over her mouth. "Those people… they're killing for artifacts?"
The anchor's voice continued:
> "Similar incidents have now been reported worldwide, in the United States, Japan, and across Europe. Experts believe the targets are powerful artifacts linked to the Tower of Trials."
Tae-yang froze mid-sip.
His eyes narrowed. His instincts screamed.
Just as I expected. The players aren't waiting. They're already moving… preparing for the climb.
He set his glass down, fingers drumming against the wood.
On-screen, the footage replayed, slowing down on one figure in particular: a tall man wielding a long, painting that turned into a huge tiger. His movements were fluid, deliberate, inhumanly fast. The tiger blurred, smashing through the museum Hallway and Anubis Guardian like they were made of paper.
In the bar, someone exclaimed, "Unbelievable! How can humans move like that?"
A younger man squinted, pointing at the screen.
"Wait a second… isn't that the same guy from the community forums? The Tower Trial thread? The one who defeated that tree monster? The Loner"
Another nodded rapidly.
"Yeah, look at how he moves. Same stance, same weapon! That's him!"
The bar buzzed with whispers and disbelief.
Tae-yang nearly choked on his drink.
Wait, what?
He stared at the screen. His stomach flipped.
The resemblance was uncanny. The figure's stance, the timing of his swings, it really did look like him.
"Hold on," he muttered under his breath. "I haven't even stepped into the Tower yet. How the hell are people already recognizing me?!"
A woman two stools down squinted at him suspiciously. Tae-yang panicked internally, plastering on his dumbest grin.
Think, Tae-yang. Think. You're a genius detective, master of deception, future Tower legend. If this keeps spreading, I'll get dragged into the spotlight before I'm ready. Heroes, villains, government dogs, they'll all come sniffing.
He gulped the rest of his beer in one go, slamming the empty glass down. His reflection in the counter stared back at him, foam dripping down his chin.
"Great. Fantastic. Just peachy. I need a disguise. Maybe a fake beard? No, too obvious. Sunglasses? No, that screams 'suspicious guy from spy movie.' Ugh. Why wasn't I born with a boring face?"
The bartender raised an eyebrow. "You talking to your beer again?"
"Shh. It understands me better than most people."
---
On the screen, the news shifted.
> "In response to these global incidents, the Korean government has announced the formation of a new organization: The Awakened Association. This group will consist of individuals who have manifested abilities through the Tower's trials."
The room erupted in murmurs.
Tae-yang's fingers froze on the counter. His mind snapped into overdrive.
The Awakened Association. An official body. Government-backed. Tasked with handling people like him.
A chill ran down his spine.
So they're making their move already.
His beer sat forgotten as the TV anchor leaned forward, her words sharp and deliberate.
> "The Awakened Association will begin immediate recruitment and surveillance operations, with full authority granted by the state."
The bar fell silent.
Tae-yang's knuckles tightened around his empty glass.
His gut told him this wasn't just a headline. This was the start of something much bigger.
And if he wasn't careful, his name would be plastered across every wanted poster in Seoul.