Something that possessed offensive power without a tangible form.
Elements such as wind, electricity, or fire.
Of these, fire proved to be the easiest for me to visualize.
‘I’m sure I heard that simply burning it would suffice.’
Reaching out my hand into the empty air, I visualized and then drew a blazing flame. It was a greedy element, searing hot, capable of incinerating anything in its path.
As I shaped the flickering flame with its blue trajectory, and the drawing manifested exactly as I had envisioned, a startling transformation occurred.
With a sudden whoosh, a blaze the size of my head materialized before me.
Not that it was particularly large; this body’s head was simply rather diminutive.
“Still, this is incredible, isn’t it?”
If this wasn’t magic, then what else could it possibly be?
A satisfied smile spread across my face as I beheld the fruit of my creation.
With this power, that slime creature would pose no challenge.
“Perish, you experience point shuttle!”
Feeling a subtle drain within me, I hurled the newly conjured flame directly at the slime.
As the flame struck the slime dead center, a searing sizzle echoed through the corridor, and the creature thrashed wildly, its tremors indicating immense agony.
Yet, with an abrupt sputter, the fire engulfing the slime extinguished itself.
“Oh?”
I found myself bewildered as the slime, now appearing enraged, crept towards me at an even greater speed than before.
Though I could distinctly see its surface still bubbling and sizzling, had my attack truly been too weak?
I needed to conjure an even larger, more potent flame.
One powerful enough to incinerate that colossal creature in a single strike—
‘A wilder, more intense flame. One grand and flamboyant enough to devour everything in its path.’
Even as the slime closed in, I moved my arm in a frenzy, completely lost in the moment, as if wielding an invisible brush. I swept my arm in broad, impassioned strokes, pouring my entire being into the creation.
The instant the tip of my shoe began to emit white smoke from the slime’s corrosive acid, a surge of power erupted.
****
KWAARGH! A sensation of being utterly drained enveloped my entire body as an inferno of immense power erupted from my fingertips, tearing straight through the slime.
It was a veritable torrent of fire.
Witnessing its thrilling, destructive beauty, I finally understood why Equality Before the Flamethrower had been so eager to boast about their abilities.
This was magic… but the mana expenditure was utterly exorbitant. Perhaps it was because I wasn’t inherently a mage-class character.
****
A profound sense of exhaustion, as if my entire body had been soaked and weighed down like waterlogged cotton, enveloped me.
With the slime vanquished and the corridor charred black, I collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent.
****
‘The Tower… it might actually be worth ascending further than I initially imagined.’
Pain? I despised it. Hardship, too, was something I wished to avoid.
The media’s portrayal of heroes and champions enduring immense suffering?
It was entertaining to observe from a distance, but if I were to be possessed and forced to endure such tribulations myself, I would unequivocally refuse.
How utterly delightful was a life spent simply lounging in bed, scrolling through my phone.
Only moments ago, upon my unexpected transference to the Tower, my sole intention had been to clear the first floor by any means necessary, then return home and never cast a glance back.
‘But wait, I can also wield magic within these quests.’
Mages, often dubbed the ‘Golden Spoon’ (TL Note: A Korean term referring to someone born into wealth and privilege) class.
I found myself capable of roughly emulating their abilities.
To turn away from such a freely bestowed gift would hardly be the act of a man.
Though, admittedly, I was now a girl.
****
‘However, this truly presented a significant predicament.’
A sigh escaped my lips as I once again became acutely aware of my current state.
A girl. And not just any girl, but a mere child.
While I could still return home, given that I lived independently, in this form, I couldn’t even register as a hunter to subjugate gates.
My ID stated I was a twenty-year-old male, yet I possessed no means to prove it.
‘For now, I simply needed to leave.’
Lingering in this smoke-filled corridor would only exacerbate my headache.
Perhaps my mind would function more clearly upon a soft, comforting bed.
Ah, should I perhaps post proof of my clear on the Tower Gallery (TL Note: An online forum/community for Tower climbers) as well?
****
[제목 : 덕분에 1층 클했다. ㅂㅂ]
[작성자 : 피꺼솟 (TL Note: A Korean slang term, ‘pikkeosot,’ referring to extreme anger or frustration, literally ‘blood spurting out.’)]
(Image: A photo of a corridor thickly coated in soot.)
Easy.
[One-Second Swordsaint: ??? You claimed you weren’t a combat class.]
–[Snowman: They were an abominable fire mage, da-yo!]
[Back-Handed Climb: But what in the world is this? What did you do to make the slime vanish without a trace and burn the entire corridor?]
[I’m a F***ing Tank: Damn it, am I the only ‘Dirt Spoon’ (TL Note: A Korean term referring to someone born into poverty or a disadvantaged background) class…. ]
–[Vegetarianism Spreader: For a newbie, this much power means they’ll climb quickly, yeah.]
[Equality Before the Flamethrower: A lie.]
–[Snowman: LOL, they’re a washed-up relic now, just dying embers! They got scared seeing a newbie’s fresh fire show, da-yo!]
–[Equality Before the Flamethrower: Shut it, Snowman.]
–[Snowman: They’re fuming, da-yo. If you check their body temperature now, it might be hotter than your skill, da-yo!]
The other users expressed their astonishment, while Equality Before the Flamethrower immediately launched into denial.
Snowman’s incessant teasing, which seemed to gnaw at Equality Before the Flamethrower, quickly devolved into a chaotic comment war.
Truly, this was the essence of the gallery.
Finding a strange comfort in the familiar chaos, I closed the gallery window and made my way toward the exit.
The moment I was seamlessly transferred back to the familiar comfort of my own room, a series of notifications chimed.
****
[Tower First Ascent Reward!]
[You have gained experience.]
[You have gained experience.]
[You have gained quest experience.]
[Lv2! Your level has increased.]
[Skill, Fireball (B-rank), has been generated.]
[Your Drawing Creation Limit has increased by 1.]
“Wow.”
The boisterous notifications nearly overwhelmed me; I was simply too ecstatic.
My lips stretched into an uncontrollable, boundless grin.
With the bonus quest experience, I had leveled up instantly.
This accelerated growth rate would undoubtedly set me apart from other climbers, making the perceived difficulty of the Tower feel considerably diminished.
Furthermore, my sole limitation—the creation limit—had been extended by one.
‘What should I draw next?’
At this juncture, I once again found myself deep in contemplation.
What could I draw that would truly be useful?
While I had initially panicked and drawn the quest window, that spontaneous act had, in fact, allowed me to manifest magic.
****
‘Perhaps I should enroll in an art academy?’
Although my drawing skills were passable, they were still far from perfect.
Things like detailed depiction, composition, or expression?
Even if I had a clear vision, failing to render it accurately could result in something entirely unexpected and potentially disastrous manifesting.
For instance, if I aimed to draw a water bomb, but instead, something bizarre like a slime emerged?
My mana would be wasted, and if the outcome was botched, it would be a serious issue.
‘I’ll ponder that later. For now, rest!’
Oh, my beloved, long-missed bed—
As I flopped onto it, my now-lighter body merely bounced with a soft thud.
Being small certainly had its advantages.
My single bed now felt as sprawling as a queen-sized one.
But perhaps I should first acquire some new clothes?
The shorts I had been wearing now resembled baggy long pants, and my stretched-out t-shirt had become an oversized garment, slipping off my shoulders.
In such situations, online shopping was, of course, the obvious solution.
I figured a small size would suffice… but then, where was my phone?
“…Ah, I left it behind…. ”
My world crumbled.
I had pulled it out in the Tower waiting room, intending to browse the internet, but had become so engrossed in the Tower Gallery that I had completely forgotten about it.
Ah—oh no!
What purpose did I serve without my phone?
My very existence… how could it now be verified?
While I could technically use a computer, tasks like these were truly meant to be enjoyed while lounging! Furthermore, with all my easy payment options and site passwords automatically saved on my phone, this was nothing short of a grave predicament.
‘For now, I’ll just buy some basic clothes.’
I painstakingly navigated to a women’s clothing website and, with considerable effort, manually entered my card details digit by digit to finalize the purchase.
But could I truly not revert to my original form…?
Surely, I wasn’t destined to live the remainder of my life as a TS (TL Note: Transsexual, referring to a change in biological s*x) character?
While I was at it, I impulsively searched for various related topics, but found no answers.
Come to think of it, there was a persistent rumor that clearing the Tower entirely would grant a wish….
Though its ultimate end remained shrouded in mystery, with Equality Before the Flamethrower claiming it had forty-two floors, it was a distant, almost mythical tale for someone like me, who had only just cleared the first.
‘I don’t know. I’ll just sleep on it and figure it out in the morning.’
Far too much had transpired in a single day.
Compounding matters, I still felt utterly drained from the lingering aftereffects of the magic.
Typically, leveling up would fully restore one’s condition. How utterly stingy, stingy indeed.
“Haaahm—”
Perhaps owing to my younger body, an overwhelming wave of drowsiness washed over me.
****
Curiously, the world beneath the bright sky also seemed imbued with a painterly quality.
It felt as though if I were to touch the air, blue paint would stain my fingers.
This was the power of my awakening as an Artist, a Painter.
Regardless, having moved diligently since morning, I now felt utterly exhausted.
“Ugh, I’m so tired.”
It was the weekend, the day after clearing the Tower. I found some clothes that roughly fit my new frame and immediately sought out and registered at a nearby art academy.
Iroha.
When I was younger, I disliked my gender-neutral name, but now, it was a relief that I could use it without needing a change.
The only issue was how incredibly awkward it felt to be addressed as ‘Miss Roha.’
After a series of questions—where were my parents, had I come alone, and so forth—I finally completed the registration process and was on my way home.
What had previously been a restricted area due to a gate incident was now bustling with people, gathered and murmuring.
Normally, I would have simply walked past, but having now officially become a hunter, a sense of curiosity about gates had taken root within me.
What could be happening that even ordinary citizens were flocking here?
I pushed and squeezed my way through the dense crowd, finally breaking through to the front.
In the desolate clearing where the gate had apparently been, heavily armed hunters stood gathered, their expressions grim.
The gate seemed to have been subjugated… so why were they still like this?
Upon closer inspection, I noticed someone lying on the ground beneath them, their gazes fixed upon the figure.
Blood gushed profusely from their abdomen.
“Damn it, where’s the ambulance?”
“The road is blocked, delaying entry!”
One of the paramedics desperately pressed a cloth against the wound, attempting to staunch the flow, but it appeared to be in vain.
Crimson blood.
As it spurted between the paramedic’s fingers, my vision seemed to overlay with an unreal filter.
It was as if red paint was splattering forth—
The female hunter’s wound appeared like an impossibly vivid painting.
[Emergency Rescue. (Reward: Skill)]
