Chapter 604
The 50th floor of the Tower of Trials — [Palace of the Foolish King].
A place filled with structures and landscapes so bizarre that they defied the very concept of sanity.
Even the Administrators who designed the Tower themselves felt their reason slipping just by gazing upon it.
And at the center of that chaos stood Azathoth, ruler of all primordial beings—alongside the “Man.”
The Man sat before a massive chessboard shaped like Seoul, upon which enormous pieces crafted from countless individuals—including those of the Veteran Corporation—were arranged.
“Heh heh. What’s the point of all this wargame nonsense? The Administrators you command had their precious barrier completely shattered by Kang Jinhyuk in a single strike. How are we supposed to cooperate after a humiliation like that?”
Nyarlathotep snickered, his tone dripping with mockery.
Immediately, killing intent flared from the bodies of the figures standing beside the Man.
“You dare flap your tongue without knowing your place?”
“Do you forget that you are merely a creation of ours?”
“And you, Nyarlathotep—wasn’t it your so-called Indian pawns who failed their mission and caused this mess?”
“What? You insolent worms dare call us creations?”
“How arrogant, speaking that way before Father himself…”
“You think your pathetic tricks could work against us?”
The primordial beings bristled, tendrils rising in fury.
Rumble…!
Waves of mana warped the space itself.
The tension was palpable—one wrong move, and this place would become a battlefield of gods and monsters.
Just then—
“Hm. I understand everyone’s a little on edge, but could you all quiet down a bit?”
The Man spoke slowly.
Snap—!
The heated air froze instantly.
An unimaginable force pressed down on every being present—so overwhelming that defiance itself was crushed.
“Th-this power…”
Even Nyarlathotep could not conceal his shock.
Only Azathoth stood unaffected.
“Now that’s better.”
With silence thick as death, the Man smiled faintly.
“We’re all on the same side, remember? I know you hate each other’s faces, but let’s pull together for a common goal. And don’t worry so much—I never expected hunting Kang Jinhyuk to be easy.”
Without touching the board, invisible power moved several chess pieces. The terrain and buildings of the miniature Seoul shifted accordingly.
“After all, his every thought, every move—it’s all predictable. We designed the board. We hold the initiative. So what’s there to fear?”
He acknowledged that Jinhyuk had a talent for creating unpredictable variables.
But still—there was always someone above even the cleverest.
The Man’s lips curved oddly as he looked toward the opposite side of the chessboard.
That space was empty—
But in his mind, he could see his opponent clearly.
‘Come on… make this interesting. Give a little excitement to my dull, eternal existence.’
The next moves of the chess pieces—their goals, their hidden strategies—he already knew them all.
And yet his heart still raced.
Because his opponent was none other than Kang Jinhyuk.
The only being in this world capable of threatening him.
⁕⁕⁕
Vrooooom!
Motorbikes tore down the highway at over 150 kilometers per hour.
Having shaken off the Gandhara rankers, Jinhyuk took the shortest route toward the Seoul Arts Center.
The roads were blocked, and it was early dawn—
If all went well, they’d arrive within moments.
But their plan hit a snag.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Before they could even travel a full kilometer, several helicopters appeared overhead.
They shouldn’t have been able to find him so quickly.
The reason revealed itself at once—
Flashes of light high above.
Reconnaissance satellites—eyes of modern warfare.
“…They’re not letting us go easily.”
In the worst case, the Awakeners’ Association might decide to eliminate both the Unknown under their protection and Jinhyuk’s group together.
That meant securing the target within the time limit was crucial.
Now he understood what it meant to be hunted at a national level.
Vwoooom!
Alice instantly summoned blood spears.
“Pesky flies. I’ll knock them all down.”
“No. It’s pointless. Even if you destroy the helicopters, they’ll keep tracking us as long as the satellites remain.”
“Hmm. Even I can’t reach that far into the heavens.”
“Yeah, space is a bit much.”
Even Alice couldn’t throw a spear that high without propulsion.
“I’ll handle it.”
Lee Tae-min stepped forward as five attack choppers closed in fast.
Blue mana flared from his body.
[Lee Tae-min activates the Unique Holy Spear ‘Last Meister’!]
The ability to manipulate all machinery at will—
Impressive in the Tower, but overwhelming in modern warfare.
His wide-reaching signal instantly engulfed the helicopters.
Bzzzzzzzt!
“What the hell?”
“Controls—won’t respond!”
“We’re crashing—!”
BOOM!
The helicopters plunged into the Han River below, water erupting high into the air.
He’d even unlocked their emergency escape systems—none of the pilots would die.
‘Reliable as always.’
Jinhyuk couldn’t help but admire.
He’d copied Tae-min’s ability before, but he could never manage such precision.
Moreover, the unique mana field now hid them from satellite tracking.
They had gained a brief window of safety.
“We can use this time to reach the Association.”
Chun Yoosung revved his bike again.
Just five minutes to go.
But then—
BOOOOOOM!
A wave of black liquid surged upward from the Han River—
A towering, sticky tide dozens of meters high.
‘What the hell is that?’
The thought barely formed before—
Sizzle!
Teresa’s holy barrier, placed ahead for safety, melted the instant it touched the substance.
The golden veil vanished, and the black liquid crept closer.
“We need to move! Now!”
Her voice trembled.
For a Level 30 divine skill to be undone that easily—no one could survive contact with that liquid.
Maybe Alice could, but the others would be reduced to bloody pulp.
And escape proved impossible.
[…Additional condition fulfilled.]
Rumble!
Red system windows appeared as the road warped.
Bridges twisted, buildings shifted—the entire cityscape transformed like a scene from a disaster movie.
A structure akin to a [Barrier]—
At least 12-star grade or higher.
“Hyung! My ability—it’s not responding anymore!”
“What the hell is this place?”
“Oppa! Creepy black goo’s pouring in from the left side!”
Panic spread among the team as the world itself changed.
“Damn it…”
Jinhyuk ground his teeth.
To think such an enormous skill could activate without him noticing—it wasn’t something made in a few days.
It must’ve been prepared for months—maybe longer.
‘Don’t tell me… they predicted I’d come this way?’
It sounded insane.
Yet nothing else made sense.
[‘Zone 153’ is now being erased.]
[Time limit: 0h : 19m : 59s]
Roooooar!
Massive waves of black fluid poured in.
Zone 153… did that mean they’d divided Seoul into 153 sectors?
And the 20-minute limit—what was its basis? What did it lead to?
His mind raced with possibilities—but first, they needed higher ground.
“Move!”
Jinhyuk sprinted through the warped city, searching for an escape route.
⁕⁕⁕
Three days had passed since Jinhyuk and the Veteran Corporation vanished from radar.
During that time, the world had changed beyond recognition.
Ever since the Covenant’s countdown began, massive outbreaks had erupted worldwide.
“…It’d almost be better if a meteor hit. At least we could all face it together.”
Han Sangjin pressed his temples, overwhelmed by the endless reports.
The frequency of Outbreaks was bad enough—but the grades were worse.
By the fourth day, even rankers struggled against the monsters invading cities.
The United States, Europe, South America, the Middle East, West Africa—
Over twenty major cities had been taken by named monsters.
Hundreds more were under evacuation orders.
It was the most catastrophic state since the Tower first appeared.
Korea too had lost Busan and Daejeon, and Seoul’s Yeongdeungpo, Yongsan, Seongnam, and Bundang were on the brink.
The digital map glowed red across the nation.
No one in the video conference could offer a solution.
Then a staffer whispered something to Han Sangjin.
“Mr. President… urgent news. The B-rank Outbreak in Cheonan has been reclassified to A-rank. Multiple Black Ogres have appeared among the orcs…”
Three strike teams had been dispatched to Pangyo—
barely scraped together amid manpower shortages.
They could handle orcs, maybe.
But Black Ogres? Their hides could shrug off any standard attack.
Cheonan was effectively doomed.
“How much time remains?”
“About 88 hours left overall, but once S-rank Gates emerge, there’ll be nothing we can do. Realistically, the deadline is 36 hours.”
Just 36 hours left for humanity.
“And Player Kang Jinhyuk—still no trace?”
“…None. Even with U.S. satellites assisting, his signal vanished entirely after the Olympic Highway incident.”
“Then that confirms it. The one we have must be the fake.”
“If not, he’d have no reason to hide.”
They had deduced which was real and which was false—
but finding the impostor was impossible.
Time kept slipping away.
‘So this is how it ends.’
Han Sangjin closed his eyes in resignation.
And then—
[Unknown requests a video call.]
The silent Unknown had finally made a move.