I prepared food and water first, stuffing them into a small bag that wasn't even worthy of being called a backpack. I tucked my small axe at my waist—a worn-out tool that was probably more suitable for uprooting tree stumps than fighting monsters in a mythical tower. But with the Heavenly Demon Cult martial arts beginning to seep into my bones, I didn't really care about weapon aesthetics anymore.
Sometimes I think my life has truly gone into absurd territory.
Six months ago, I was just an ordinary human. Now? I was standing in the middle of a forest, wearing grandmaster murim clothing, carrying a rickety axe, and preparing to challenge something called the Tower of Babylon.
'Honestly… this has really gone far past normal. How much further will my life drift from its original genre? Maybe after this I'll suddenly find a dragon trying to rent an apartment?'
I took a deep breath and opened the newly unlocked feature in the system: Tower Access.
In an instant, my body was wrapped in something—like a clear bubble that pulsed gently, sending faint electric currents from the soles of my feet up to the nape of my neck. It felt cold, piercing, and gave absolutely no time to adjust.
Then the world vanished.
The ground, the air, the trees—everything was dragged from beneath me like a carpet yanked too fast.
I appeared in a dark room.
Not ordinary darkness—but the kind that felt like an empty space with no direction, no scent, no walls. Only the echo of my own breathing existed, as if marking that I was the only living thing there.
And as I began focusing my senses, faint blue light crawled from the air like ancient script forced into a digital shape.
[SYSTEM — Welcome to the Tower of Babylon]
[You are on the Ground Floor]
...
The first floor greeted me with a damp smell and dim lighting—darkness that felt not because light was absent, but because light here chose to conserve energy. The stone floor was cracked, moss clinging like green embroidery. In the distance there was a scraping of gravel, not the sound of human footsteps; it repeated, small, fast—like a pack of overly confident rats.
I adjusted my breathing, feeling the now-stable dantian pulsing in my abdomen. The rune-light on the walls flickered softly, signaling some kind of spawn area. And from behind the shadows appeared small green creatures—short, stubby arms, jutting teeth, mischievous glowing eyes. Goblins. Exactly as I'd read in fantasy novels: sly, thieving, and without shame.
'Goblins. Classic. If this is a test, at least it's a logical one,' I thought while checking the small axe at my waist. It felt light in my hand, but that wasn't the determining factor. I was already used to turning my fists into weapons through Heavenly Demon training—this was about rhythm, not tools.
They saw me, clicked their tongues, and suddenly gathered; three, then five. One raised a small stick that looked like a regular branch—but at the tip was a faint green crystal. They screamed in unison, raspy voices that somehow made the air around me grow colder.
'Don't underestimate. Even goblins can be troublesome when they swarm,' I muttered, lowering my stance to set the distance. I didn't want to kill too many; my goal was to ascend floors, not clean out a miniature forest. But taking down one or two goblins would give me practical data on how effective my new movements were.
I stepped forward. A simple movement: stance, hip rotation, one straight strike accompanied by a slight flow of Qi—the basic technique I named in my head because its original name was too dramatic to say every day: training-version Demon Palm.
One goblin shot toward me, its agility surprising. I responded with a light parry using the back of my hand—not to injure, just to redirect—then twisted my body, kicking its side. My kick hit its small abdomen, and the goblin gagged out a sound, flinging into a pile of stones. The others rushed at once, biting from various directions.
At one moment, my hair stood on end because one goblin pulled out a small pouch and threw it to the ground—a cheap smoke bomb that exploded into a stinging green dust. The cloud burned my nose, made my eyes water, and disrupted my Qi focus for a heartbeat.
'Yeah, that mischievous face really comes with its own battlefield antics,' I thought while closing my eyes momentarily, letting the Cloak-Anchor dampen the energy output so I wouldn't trigger resonance. I relied purely on bodily movement—speed, rhythm, and a little weight-shifting. Without opening the system panel, I knew my status was still stable, but I didn't want to trigger any alarms.
When the smoke thinned, I was already in the middle of the pack. Punch after punch, kicks, and several slip-steps knocked the goblins down one by one. They weren't strong—small, stubborn, but lacking coordinated lethal technique. In a fleeting instant, I saw the internal conflict between cruelty and irony: killing small creatures just to ascend floors felt strange, yet the reality said otherwise.
I steadied my breath, channeling thin Qi into my palm to end the fight quickly—a push that felt like clenching the air. One consolidated strike: palm spread, energy focused, and a small wave blasted outward. The goblins were blown into the walls, some not getting back up. The survivors—two of them—saw their fallen comrades and bolted, disappearing into narrow cracks.
As the dust settled, I stood staring at the remains of the fight. My breathing was heavy but stable. The small axe at my waist was now dirty, but not thick with blood—more like grime and fragments. Among the small bodies, several little pouches lay open, containing small green stones, a few old coins, and a sheet of worn paper.
I picked up the paper, examining it briefly—rough handwriting, strange goblin symbols. Maybe a clue, maybe just a food note. Beside it, a notification appeared in my mind's space, calm as always.
[Loot Acquired: Crystal Shard x3, Coin (Low) x8, Note: 'Offer to the Rock']
'Crystal shards—small ritual materials,' I muttered while stuffing everything into the bag. These little loot items might be useful for crafting, or barter materials if I encountered a merchant. Or… just collectibles.
I took a breath, staring toward the staircase leading to the second floor. The room was still dark in the corners, damp-smelling, but there was a small sense of satisfaction—greater than simply clearing an encounter: I had proven I could survive against living creatures in this strange place. My body understood movement more deeply; my Qi grew more sensitive to its own rhythm.
'Second floor awaits. Hopefully it's not as drunk on ideas as goblins who love smoke bombs,' I sighed lightly, then stepped toward the stairs, placing one hand on the cold stone railing.
My footsteps were still steady—breath controlled, dantian stable, mind clear. But the moment the sole of my foot touched the teleportation circle at the end of the first floor, everything changed.
The light rose like an inverted flame—wrapping me from bottom to top, twisting my body without actually twisting it, then pulling my consciousness as if someone yanked a blanket too quickly. A floating sensation, slight nausea, then silence.
When the light faded, I was standing on the second floor.
This room was wider, brighter, but not a comforting kind of bright. Pale blue light emanated from the rune stones on the walls—a light that felt as if it was judging whether I deserved to be here or not. The walls were higher, and the air heavier… as if gravity had recalibrated to a higher degree.
And then I saw them.
Goblins—again. But this time, they weren't alone. Among the group stood a creature nearly twice the height of a normal goblin, muscular, dark green skin, larger jaw, and yellowish eyes that reflected the light like the eyes of a predator. A hobgoblin.
'Oh great, the upgraded version. I knew the Tower wouldn't let me climb without adding more stress factors.'
The goblins moved restlessly, fewer than on the first floor, but more organized. They didn't rush. They didn't scream. They stood in a semicircle, maintaining a safe distance from the hobgoblin that was clearly acting as the leader.
The hobgoblin stomped its foot on the stone floor. Once. Twice. The thud echoed through the entire room, almost like the ritual opening of a battle.
I felt my ribcage tremble slightly.
Qi rose instinctively to the surface of my skin, like a breeze trying to stabilize the body.
"Hah… looks like the Tower is getting serious," I murmured quietly.
The hobgoblin crouched slightly, its body tightening like a drawn bow—then the creature jumped.
Not jumped… but crashed into the ground as if its body were a warhammer. The landing created small cracks that crawled toward me. Air was sucked in as if the pressure dropped—then came the shockwave.
I raised my arm, lowered my center of gravity, letting Qi flow into my legs to absorb the tremor.
The attack didn't hit me directly, but it was enough to make my soles burn.
'If that was just the opening greeting… it means I have to get serious from the start.'
I moved.
One step left, two forward—reading the distance of the hobgoblin that had just landed. The creature stomped again, trying to predict my direction. But Heavenly Demon does not operate on the opponent's rhythm; my entire movement flow works against the enemy's tempo.
When the hobgoblin swung its wide arm like a club, I was already half a step beneath its armpit, twisting my waist and slamming my palm into its ribcage.
A heavy thud rang out.
It felt like punching a sandbag wrapped in thin metal.
The creature shook, but didn't get thrown.
'Hard. Like punching a refrigerator with muscles.'
I took a short breath, twisted again, using the momentum of small steps—the movements I trained for months in the forest—and struck different points: the neck's edge, the stomach, the knee. Qi flowed, but softly, not explosively.
The goblins at the back started panicking. They made strange growls, but didn't dare advance. The hobgoblin didn't fall, but its attacks became sloppy. My movements slowed it down, broke its rhythm.
Until the big creature attempted a straight punch—a heavy fist that generated a sharp gust of wind.
'Opportunity.'
I entered its range.
One pushing palm, Qi compressed in the hand, the signature Heavenly Demon movement—forming a short burst as if the space in front of me cracked open.
Demon Palm – Disrupt Form.
The hobgoblin's chest jolted backward. Its body lifted slightly off the ground before crashing onto the stone and going still.
Silence filled the room.
The remaining goblins stared at their fallen leader—and like wild animals who just lost their alpha, they all simultaneously bolted into the back corridor. I didn't chase. No need.
I stood in the center of the room, breath rising and falling. Sweat dripped, Qi buzzing like electric cables.
'Floor one was a warm-up… floor two is proof that I can't afford to be careless.'
The system appeared again, calm, flat, as if I wasn't almost turned into paste by a hobgoblin moments ago.
[Second Floor – Clear]
[Reward: +15 tower coins, +1 random item drop]
A small light appeared on my palm, turning into a small black leather pouch.
I reached for the stone handrail leading to the teleportation circle for the third floor.
My breath was steady again, but I knew one thing:
'If the second floor is already like this… the third floor is definitely going to try killing me with much more annoying creativity.'
With steady steps, I stood at the center of the circle.
The light rose again.
The third floor awaited.