The wasteland stretched on forever.
The 11th floor's sky was a constant thunderstorm, its air heavy with ash and sulfur. Jagged peaks jutted like broken teeth from the earth. It was a place designed to grind hunters into dust.
But not me.
The trolls lumbered across the land, their footsteps shaking the ground. Each one was a walking fortress of muscle and stone. The hunters feared them, fought them desperately.
I embraced them.
Every blow they landed on me was a gift. Every death was a door. Every regression was a rebirth.
By the third day, the hunters were shadows of themselves.
Their supplies dwindled. Their spells fizzled. Their blades cracked.
But I only grew sharper.
Stone Skin (D-rank). Crushing Grip (E-rank). Heavy Strike (D-rank). Iron Stomach (E-rank). Pack Instinct (F-rank). Keen Scent (E-rank). Quick Step (F-rank).
Dozens of skills—stacked, fused, overlapping until they blurred together inside me. Weak on their own, terrifying in sum.
The trolls struck me, and their weapons no longer broke my bones. Their claws raked across my skin, and I felt only scratches.
The others noticed.
They tried not to look, but they noticed.
Their fear was thick, suffocating.
On the fourth night, whispers broke out.
"…We should leave him."
"…He's not human anymore."
"…He killed the guild master. Now he's feeding himself to trolls like a lunatic…"
I sat by the fire, sharpening my sword with steady strokes, my smile fixed.
They thought I couldn't hear.
But I could. Keen Scent let me smell the sour tang of their fear. Pack Instinct told me how prey whispered when they wanted to betray a predator.
I waited.
One of them, a spearman named Jin-woo, finally snapped.
"He's dangerous. We should kill him while we still can."
The words dropped like stones into the firelight. The other hunters flinched. Some nodded reluctantly.
I chuckled.
Their heads whipped toward me.
"Kill me?" I tilted my head, eyes gleaming. "Go ahead. Try."
They froze.
I stood slowly, Sword Aura flaring, silver light humming against the night sky.
"But remember this—" I whispered, stepping closer. "When you kill me… I come back stronger. Every. Single. Time."
Silence.
Their faces drained of color.
I laughed, long and loud, until they broke, scattering back like terrified animals.
Good.
Let them hate me. Let them fear me. Both were sweeter than contempt.
The next day, the trolls weren't enough.
I wanted more.
I left camp, walking into the wasteland alone.
My blood thrummed with need. What would happen if I died to something even greater than trolls? A true floor boss?
The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
Hours passed before I found it.
A shadow moved across the clouds.
The ground shook with every beat of enormous wings.
And then it landed before me.
A beast of nightmare—scaled in obsidian, eyes glowing red, jaws lined with rows of serrated teeth.
A Drake.
Its roar split the heavens, deafening, raw. Lightning cracked in response, the storm itself bowing to its presence.
My smile stretched until my cheeks ached.
"Perfect."
The Drake struck first.
Its tail whipped like a battering ram, caving in my chest.
[You have died.]
[Regression activated.]
[You have acquired the skill of your killer: Scaled Hide (C-rank).]
I gasped awake. My body tingled with power, my skin harder, denser, almost metallic.
I laughed.
The Drake roared again, and I charged.
Its claws pierced me—
[Predator's Reflex (C-rank).]
Its breath burned me alive—
[Flame Resistance (C-rank).]
Its jaws snapped me in half—
[Draconic Intimidation (C-rank).]
Each death was horror. Each rebirth ecstasy.
I threw myself into the beast's maw again and again, stacking its gifts like jewels, stealing its essence piece by piece.
By the tenth death, my body felt alien—armored in scales beneath flesh, movements sharp and feral. My gaze alone made lesser beasts shrink.
By the twentieth, I no longer knew if I was man or monster.
And I didn't care.
The Drake weakened, bleeding from dozens of wounds.
The final strike was almost merciful. My Sword Aura cut through its throat in a blazing arc, silver against storm.
The beast collapsed, shaking the wasteland. Its final breath rattled the world.
[Congratulations. You have slain a floor guardian.]
[Reward: Skill Evolution unlocked.]
My breath caught.
Skill… evolution?
The notifications burned across my vision.
[Quick Step (F-rank) + Predator's Reflex (C-rank) → Phantom Step (B-rank).]
[Pack Instinct (F-rank) + Draconic Intimidation (C-rank) → Commanding Presence (B-rank).]
[Keen Scent (E-rank) + Flame Resistance (C-rank) → Elemental Awareness (B-rank).]
My laugh turned into a scream of joy.
So even scraps weren't wasted. The Tower itself refined my madness into weapons.
I threw my head back and howled into the storm, drunk on power.
When I returned to camp, the hunters gawked.
I stank of blood and smoke, my aura heavier, sharper. The storm itself seemed to follow me, lightning flickering in my wake.
They didn't ask what I had done. They didn't dare.
But they knew.
And their fear fed me like wine.
That night, the void came again.
But this time, the whispers weren't vague.
You climb well, little pawn.You die well.How long until you break?
A chill crawled down my spine.
"Break?" I whispered into the dark. "No… I'm only getting started."
We are watching.We are counting.Die more. Show us more.
The voices laughed, countless and hollow, echoing endlessly.
And I laughed with them.
Because I would.
I would die more.
Until the Tower itself bowed at my feet.