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Translator: penny
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Training Equivalents
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Train for ten years, and you get the equivalent of ten years' worth of gains.
Twenty years, twenty years.
Thirty years, thirty years.
No growth caps mean your skills climb linearly with each stubborn year of honest training, like a straight line on a graph.
So for anyone training in the Tower, assuming all other stats are equal,
a swordsman with 25 years under their belt can never beat one with 50.
In the real world, maybe it's possible somehow...,
but not in the Tower. Growth never plateaus without limits.
No growth caps apply equally to stats like strength or agility.
Keep grinding away with steady training, and they go up eventually.
Irrespective of age or talent, it's a relentless upward linear trend.
And all that raw prowess gets quantified into your Survivor Level.
That's why mine's at 0.
I've never put in any real effort or training inside the Tower.
I'd love to claim popping zombie heads counts as dedicated marksmanship practice...,
but Easy difficulty survivors talk about folks who just stared at a wall and trained for a solid ten years...
Whining that my Survivor Level won't budge after gunning down a few zombies
feels pretty shameless, honestly.
'I kinda knew this already,
but everyone else's trials sound insanely boring.
Rock climbing and scaling some imaginary mountain taller than the Himalayas...?
And it's not even your choice—fixed formats? Damn....
Easy floor 1 is dodging traps to escape a cave, fixed.
Floor 2 is swamp trekking or jungle survival? Total snoozefest, for real.'
No choices for others like I had. Every trial was peak boredom survival grind.
'Normal difficulty floor 19: bare-handed tiger takedown? Whoa....
I lucked out diving into game worlds or manga realms. Honey fun.
Turns out others were just grinding survival the most miserable way up the Tower.
At least assassinating a prince after punching through royal guards in a fantasy kingdom had some flair.'
Plenty of death-trap mega-maze escapes too.
Anyone who digs that more than me has gotta be an even bigger freak.
'...Raising my Survivor Level might be impossible for me.'
But that's fine.
I skip the training grind and just buy it all with points.
Easy survivor, level 10 cap?
Already maxed the basic six stats minus Magic Power~
Normal survivor, level 30 cap?
Piece of cake... soon buy points to hit Strength, Agility, Stamina, Endurance, Luck, Dexterity skills all at Lv. 30~
Others grinding swordsmanship 150 or 300 years in the Tower...?
I just stockpile points later and buy Swordsmanship Lv. 15 or 30.
That's eating-and-sword-only for 150 or 300 years straight.
'Passive skills give 10 years' training per level...
Compensation like a decade of practice.
So with Aiming, Reloading, and Shooting at Lv. 2 each...,
that's me at 20 years of rice-and-aim, rice-and-reload, rice-and-shoot mastery.'
Plus Weapon Mastery Lv. 1 means every weapon feels like a decade of handling ingrained in me.
No wonder I picked up weapons so effortlessly and shredded with guns.
Veteran proficiency across the board, experience baked in.
'This puts me at veteran-of-veterans in special forces terms.
Even among spec-ops vets, not many hit my level?
Rice-and-aim 20 years,
rice-and-reload 20 years,
rice-and-shoot 20 years,
plus a decade handling every weapon like a pro.
Not "rare"—straight-up nonexistent.'
Now I could gauge my specs and true strength.
'Special forces veteran level.'
That realization...
blasted away the dread for Hye-jeong's sister rescue op coming up.
Guess I was spooked venturing beyond the apartment complex into zombie-infested unknowns.
Tower Floor 1—Project Zombie World—isn't like Floor 2 Battlegrounds 2. One bite or death, game over.
Literally death.
I didn't want to die.
Craved a new Pussy Slave sure, but not enough to shrug off permadeath.
This self-audit killed my fears big time.
'...If shit hits the fan,
bolt to another floor and chill.
Power up, then hit Floor 1 again....'
- Ding dong! -
- "Delivery!" -
"Yessir~! Coming right up~!"
Mind squared away, perfect timing—McNalds delivery hit.
Grabbed armfuls, subspace'd them the second the driver vanished from sight.
"Hop in the Tower, chow down with the Pussy Slaves...?"
Stepped into Tower Floor 1.
Still geared head to toe: Lv. 3 plate carrier, Lv. 3 helmet, full kit.
"Ah..., right. Still in full battle rattle.... Hate stripping it off again...."
"...Master? ...What's up all sudden?"
Hye-jeong, who'd just helped me gear up, shot me a baffled look.
No time passed here, so she had no clue I'd stepped out.
"Screw it, you two. Munch on this yourselves.
I'll snag a Big Mac and go snag a new Pussy Slave...,
Hye-jeong's little sis rescue. Order more when I get back...."
""...?""
Handed the puzzled Pussy Slaves the steaming fresh McNalds bags straight from subspace.
Kim Hye-jeong and Lee Seo-yeon's eyes bugged out huge.
The savory fry-and-burger aroma wafted through the master bedroom.
Subspace froze time, so hot foods stayed hot, cold stayed cold.
Delivered-fresh perfection.
"...W-Wow...! M-Master. Th-This is...? No way...?!"
"Whoa...! No freaking way...? Holy shit..., jackpot..., holy... Master, you're the best..."
Kim Hye-jeong and Lee Seo-yeon gulped saliva, peeking at me.
Sudden fun idea popped up...,
that earlier thought resurfaced...
Grinned, fished out a fry cup from the bag,
plucked the longest, thickest fries from it...,
one by one, offering them to the girls.
Steam curled off those prime two longest thickest fries, mouthwatering scent rising.
"...Shove these in your pussies, pull out, eat.
Like..., ten in-outs each...,
then you can have 'em one by one."
""...""
"...Don't want to? Fine, don't eat."
"...N-No, I will. In-out, got it."
"...Just pussy-stuff 'em? Ten times for a full fry cup?"
"Yep."
"..."
"..."
The two Pussy Slaves glanced at each other wordlessly...,
Lee Seo-yeon first snatched the fry from my hand, slid it into her pussy slit.
Watching her, Kim Hye-jeong followed suit.
Both pussies still oozed my cum heavy...,
fries instantly glazed in semen and juices.
"...Ten times, right...?"
"Yep."
They silently rushed ten piston reps each, no chit-chat.
Averted eyes, embarrassed to look.
Pulled out the cum-soaked, sopping wet fries from cum-packed holes, chewed 'em down good.
Semen-and-juice drenched, yet they devoured happily...,
bliss from fast food in zombie apocalypse vibes.
Passed each their fry cups.
Pussy Slaves lit up at the french fries.
Tempted to cum-top 'em,
but let it slide watching Lee Seo-yeon sniffle and munch through happy tears.
Kim Hye-jeong and Lee Seo-yeon wolfed fries like they vanished before eyes.
Gulped, eyed other fries, burgers, McNuggets, McWings.
"McNuggets same deal. Pussy ten in-outs for a four-nugget box."
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