Chapter 193

A giant meteorite fell from the sky, and the processed fragments of it were known as moonstones. The reason it was named moonstone was quite simple: the surface of the massive meteorite resembled the moon.

The Camilton Empire, fortunate enough to monopolize the production of these moonstones, analyzed this mysterious ore and soon discovered that its strength surpassed that of any other ore on earth.

‘The problem is that it ended there.’

She had given part of her own flesh, imbuing it with her power. Thus, the moonstone was not just a robust ore but was also imbued with divine power, like orichalcum or adamantine.

“I had no way to convey my intentions to you,” Luna continued, a look of regret on her face. Despite her efforts to aid humanity, they had not fully embraced her help. Her carefully given power had lost its meaning. All Luna could do was watch.

“I will make it right,” Seojin declared.

“I appreciate your gesture,” Luna responded.

“...I will spread your words to the world. That Babel exists in this world, and there is someone in that place who cares for us.”

That was all Luna wanted. Unlike other gods, she didn’t seek offerings or an increase in the number of her followers.

The altruistic girl nodded contentedly. Seojin seemed so admirable to her. Despite her concerns about the first visitor being a foreigner, she felt reassured seeing a human like him.

“I will always watch over you, ensuring you do not falter.”

“It’s a grace to meet you like this,” Seojin concluded, putting a period on their conversation.

Having asked his questions and confirmed the existence of moonstones, Seojin had fulfilled his duties and rights as a Harmonizer. It was now his role to lead and utilize Luna’s help effectively.

Luna, too, was satisfied. It seemed that her task here was finished, as far as a meeting between a god and a stranger could go.

“We humans...”

Seojin didn’t want to leave it at that. The girl before him was more than just a simple NPC.

“Are blinded by the glory of the day, we have forgotten our gratitude for the moonlight.”

Luna nodded quietly, willing to accept Seojin’s gratitude. Then, she flinched. Her large eyes stared intently at him, almost glaring.

“We humans believe that what we do not see does not exist. That makes us humans, and that also allows us to set things straight. If I may dare presume, I believe your will to not abandon us humans also stems from that reason.”

A sense of déjà vu enveloped Luna. She had heard these words before. The tone might have been different, but the words were the same. The atmosphere, too.

Luna moistened her lips. It was an unwritten rule not to show human-like behavior in front of humans, but she had no time to worry about such promises.

“My child, you are... certainly...”

“I will convey your intentions here. Goddess of humans, may you be at peace.”

Seojin turned away, no hands to hold him back, no voices to call after him. As he stepped toward the exit, a trembling voice reached his ears.

“...I will wait here.”

“I will return.”

“I don’t know how long it’s been since waiting has been a joy. Do you know that feeling?”

Seojin didn’t look back. After a brief hesitation, he replied.

“I cannot know. For I am but a mere human living in the moment. But...”

“...?”

“I will try. To dare to understand your intentions.”

That was the end of their conversation.

Seojin left Babel. It was time to descend from the boundaries of heaven, back to the earth.

He had to meet with the Staff of Faith, eagerly awaiting him, and inform Montblanc, who had trusted and followed him, that the path was open.

‘There are things I need to ask a fellow ranker. It’s going to get busy again.’

The stakes were already high.

And at the end, as always, what Seojin desired awaited him.

But the sight that greeted Seojin outside was not what he expected.

“What is this now?”

It wasn’t the Pantheon. The staircase of light, the ceiling of Aikora, the face of Harry gazing desperately at the sky, were nowhere to be seen.

Entry Requirements Met

Entered: 1st floor lobby

Following the message he had seen once before, a space entirely filled with pure white appeared.

* * *

‘...It feels like the Tower of Qualifications?’

Seojin thought, as soon as he was face to face with the white space again.

This place resembled the first floor of the tower where he took trials to obtain his two Leagues and even managed to converse with the developer.

It wasn’t just the atmosphere of the place that was the same either. The NPC waiting for Seojin there was also identical.

The nameless guide.

Seojin waved at her as if pleased to see her, just like when he first saw her with her dry-faced expression.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

The guide nodded slightly. Only when Seojin stepped closer did she speak.

“I have been waiting for you.”

“Me? Why? I’m in a hurry. Could you open the way out?”

“You, the adventurer, have proven your qualifications.”

“I’m really in a hurry. I don’t have time to chat.”

“You have obtained three Qualifications and conquered three towers. You are among the highest in this land.”

“Right. So now I need to go down.”

“You can now receive your reward. The process takes time, and you cannot cancel it midway through.”

The guide’s demeanor was as if she couldn’t hear Seojin. Her face and voice were like a machine.

Eventually, Seojin gave up and asked back.

“Can I receive it later?”

“If you forgo the reward, it will be deleted.”

“Then I won’t recei... Hmm, how long will it take?”

“The duration varies depending on the progress.”

What now? This was an unexpected event for Seojin. He had just begun to understand the events unfolding in the Empire and was about to make a move.

“The reward is just a few words with the developer... No, the person who set up this tower, right?”

“I cannot say.”

“Then... I won’t receive it. I give up the reward.”

Seojin decided.

Of course, being the developer of Asgard, who was known to design and check every single quest himself, the reward left by such a person would normally be tremendous, but Seojin wasn’t the kind of person who liked freebies.

‘Don’t know how long it will take? Just how long do you plan to have me trapped here?’

The guide had just said that the time required varied depending on the progress.

A fitting reward for a challenging quest—this one sentence ran through the heart of the game, from Asgard to Midgard.

‘If it’s a reward for finding Babel, it should have been given right away. Instead of attaching such unnecessary conditions.’

However, the guide’s “reward” had conditions attached, and the meaning was clear.

“Open the door, please.”

“Level 4 rewards will be provided.”

“No...”

Seojin frowned, visibly annoyed. His face was full of displeasure as he said,

“I knew it was a trap, and that’s why I avoided it. Shouldn’t you let me out now?”

“The reward is being prepared. Please wait a moment.”

“I said forget the reward and open the door!”

His firm request was cleanly ignored.

Finally, you have arrived here. Excellent. It was worth the wait. Even watching the process was a delightful anticipation.

Messages began to appear in the same format as before.

The difference between then and now was the emotion Seojin felt reading the messages.

“...A game where the developer forces a reward upon you, that’s new. Is this even allowed? If I can’t complete the quest on time because of you, will you take responsibility?”

-The reason I waited is...

“A game that emphasizes freedom? What a joke. Can a developer do this? Holding up a busy player and forcefully feeding them your own philosophical crap?”

What was the RPG genre about? It was where each player gets assigned a role, immerse themselves in it, and enjoy the process, a role-playing game.

Seojin had been over-immersed in the game from the start.

But just when he thought he was taking a break, he was stopped in his tracks.

“Just keep rambling. I won’t watch.”

Seojin turned away from the message, literally, not to see it.

He was being childishly stubborn.

But the developer’s response was even more childish.

... Just in case you didn’t hear, I’m saying it again, the reason I waited here is...

The message’s position changed. Now it appeared in the direction Seojin was facing.

Finally, Seojin, with his arms crossed, closed his eyes.

“I said I’m not looking.”

His body language expressed his twisted mood. The sound of a keyboard tapping continued, but Seojin, with his eyes closed, had no way of knowing what it said. He forcefully suppressed his curiosity.

‘This person will never give up here.’

If the person Seojin faced was indeed the developer, it was certain.

These messages were not ‘records left from the past’ but typed in real-time.

‘Last time he jumped out and used an NPC’s mouth. If he’s not doing it this time, maybe...’

Two assumptions came to mind.

‘Either the company stepped in to stop his antics, or the developer himself developed a sense of boundary not to interfere in the game.’

And Seojin’s mind leaned towards the first assumption.

‘The company must have stopped him. If he were such a rule-follower, he wouldn’t be labeled a half-mad genius.’

The sound of typing stopped. This place was completely cut off from the outside, so only complete silence lingered.

And when Seojin mentally counted to ten...

“Another salary cut!”

The guide’s voice that reached his ears was full of vivid emotion.

“I knew it. If you have something to say, say it directly. Don’t unnecessarily set the mood.”

“You knew?”

“How could I not?”

“Then you should have pretended to be fooled!”

“What...?”

It was an utterly ridiculous reaction for Seojin. But wasn’t that a vibe of real resentment?

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m giving you a reward! You’ve accomplished something great, so I’m giving you a great reward!”

“I said I don’t need it.”

“I need you to need it!”

“I don’t want it. Is the translation system weird? It seems like the meaning isn’t being conveyed properly?”

“Right now, for you...”

“I know it’s in real-time, so I’m not curious anymore.”

Seojin interrupted the whining voice.

“I’m not curious, so I don’t need to ask. Besides, a person who claims to be a developer wouldn’t directly intervene in the game to give an influential gift, and more importantly...”

“...?”

“I’m very busy right now. My immersion has been shattered long ago thanks to you.”

Seojin was staring straight into the guide’s eyes. His face had softened, but his eyes were filled with irritation.

‘I’m not the one being desperate here.’

Seojin remembered his conversation with the guide.

“You can’t even imagine. The quantity and quality of the variables have sharply increased. Those few elements were trying to completely revise the wrong direction, weren’t they?”

The voice that called him a variable. The attitude that was happy that he had corrected the wrong direction.

As no player had reached Babel until now, if the conjecture was correct, Seojin must have been the “variable” the developer most valued.

“You must be curious. Definitely. For example, about the place you’re about to go to.”

Now the guide blatantly provoked Seojin. In the end, it was a question about whether he needed information about the new continent.

Of course, Seojin’s response was predetermined.

“If you sincerely think that way, you should step away from game design.”

“...What?”

“If you know in advance, where’s the fun? You have to do it yourself to make it meaningful. Shouldn’t that be obvious to a person who claims to make games?”