As they walked toward the town lord's mansion, Arjun slowed his steps slightly and leaned closer to Divya. His voice dropped to a whisper—low enough that only she could hear.
"Inside the Tower… don't call me son," he said calmly. "And I won't call you Mom."
Divya faltered for half a step. She turned to him, her brows knitting together. "Arjun… why?"
"Information leaks kill people here," he replied without looking at her. "Relationships, weaknesses, attachments—everything has value. Until we know everything about the tower, it's safer this way."
Divya's lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, hesitation flickered in her eyes—then she gave a small, controlled nod.
"…Alright," she said softly. "What should I call you?"
"Just Arjun," he answered. "And I'll call you Divya."
It hurt more than she expected, but she understood.
As they continued walking, Arjun suddenly noticed something strange. The guards, the townsfolk, even the captain leading them—all were clearly speaking different languages. The accents, the sounds, the structure… none of it matched anything he knew.
Yet he understood every word.
He frowned slightly.
"Divya," he murmured, "are they… speaking our language?"
She blinked, then listened more carefully. Her eyes widened. "No. They aren't."
That was when realization struck her.
"We're understanding them anyway," she whispered. "All of them."
The captain ahead of them glanced back, clearly overhearing their confusion. A faint, knowing smile crossed his face.
"You noticed quickly," he said. "That would be the Akasha System at work."
He tapped the side of his temple lightly. "Automatic translation. Spoken language, intent, even context—it bridges everything. As long as you're within a domain governed by Akasha, communication won't be a problem."
Arjun exchanged a glance with Divya.
"…That's absurd," Divya said under her breath.
Arjun exhaled slowly, his excitement mixed with unease. "So even language isn't private anymore."
As they walked through the main street, Arjun's gaze paused on a large wooden notice board fixed beside the road. Unlike the smaller signs scattered around the town, this one was layered with engraved plates, neatly carved text, and faintly glowing runes that shifted as people passed.
"Hold on," Arjun said, slowing to a stop. "That board."
They stepped closer.
Divya scanned it carefully. Lines of information were arranged with unsettling clarity:
Tax Structure (Monthly)
Level 1 → 10 Gold
Level 2 → 20 Gold
…
Level 10 → 100 Gold
Her fingers tightened slightly. "Monthly…?"
Arjun nodded. "So it's not a one-time payment."
Below the tax section, bold crimson letters pulsed faintly, drawing the eye:
[MONSTER TIDE IN 10 DAYS]
Further down were additional notices—resource regulations, entry permits, penalties for law violations, requirements for adventurers, and warnings about restricted zones beyond the town walls.
"They're taxing people based on level," Divya said, frowning.
"And the increase is linear," Arjun replied. "No exemptions."
His gaze returned to the crimson warning. "Monster tide. Ten days."
"That sounds less like a warning," Divya said quietly, "and more like a deadline."
A guard standing nearby noticed their lingering stares and approached, spear resting against his shoulder, armor clinking softly with each step. "First time seeing the notice board?"
Arjun nodded. "Is all of this official?"
The guard gave a short, humorless laugh. "Every order, warning, and event is announced there. If it's not on the board, it doesn't exist."
Divya hesitated. "And if someone misses a notice?"
"That's on them," the guard replied plainly.
Arjun pointed to the lower corner of the board. "What about this?"
"Notice fees," the guard said. "Each announcement costs ten gold. Requests, warnings, information—pay first, then it goes up."
Divya inhaled sharply. "Even information has a price."
"Information has value," the guard corrected. "The Tower makes sure everyone understands that."
Arjun looked back at the board. "The tax—collected every month?"
"On the first day," the guard answered. "Miss it, and your name goes on the defaulter list."
Divya's eyes hardened. "And then?"
"Fines at first," the guard said with a shrug. "After that… forced work assignments. Or exile."
Silence settled between them.
____
They finally reached the town hall.
Arjun had expected something far more extravagant—a towering structure bloated by tax money and authority. Instead, what stood before them was a moderately sized villa, well-maintained but restrained. Solid stone walls, clean banners, and practical defenses. No excess. No unnecessary luxury.
"…That's it?" Divya murmured.
Arjun nodded slowly. "At least the gold isn't being poured into decoration."
They were escorted inside by the guards and led into a spacious dining hall. A long wooden table occupied the center, already set with warm food and simple but hearty dishes.
At the head of the table stood the town lord.
He was a middle-aged man with pale skin and neatly combed blond hair, his posture relaxed but alert. His eyes were sharp—used to measuring people.
"Welcome," he said, offering a polite nod. "I am Paul."
A faint blue glow flickered beside his name.
[Paul — Level 10]
"Please," Paul continued, gesturing toward the table. "Sit. We can talk while we eat."
They exchanged brief glances before taking their seats.
As they began eating, Paul observed them casually. "First time in the Tower?"
Arjun nodded. "Yes."
"That explains it," Paul said with a small smile. "Then the Akasha System should be assisting you right now."
Divya paused mid-bite. "Assisting how?"
"It will temporarily quantify your stats," Paul explained. "Strength, agility, perception—everything. Think of it as training wheels."
Arjun frowned. "Temporarily?"
Paul nodded. "After your initial trial, everything except level and talent disappears from the interface. No numbers. No guidance. You'll have to figure out your limits the old-fashioned way."
"That's… harsh," Divya said.
Paul shrugged lightly. "The Tower doesn't care about comfort. Only progress."
Arjun opened his status window quietly—and froze.
"Divya," he said under his breath. "Look at this."
Next to his level was a faint label:
Level: 1 (Tier-0)
He looked up at Paul. "What does Tier-0 mean?"
Paul's expression sharpened with interest. "You noticed that already?"
"So it matters," Arjun replied.
Paul set his utensils down. "After reaching certain level thresholds, you'll gain the ability to upgrade your Tier. Tier-1, Tier-2, and beyond."
"And the benefit?" Arjun asked.
Paul smiled thinly. "A higher ceiling," he said. "Better compatibility with skills, equipment, and higher worlds."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"And according to the rumors," Paul added, his voice dropping, "true immortality is possible."
Divya stiffened. "You mean… eternal life?"
"Literal," Paul replied. "No aging. No decay. No natural death."
Arjun didn't react immediately. "According to rumors," he repeated.
Paul chuckled softly. "Of course. No one at my level has seen it confirmed. But the stories are consistent."
He leaned back in his chair. "They say that after reaching a certain Tier, death simply… stops applying."
Divya frowned. "And monsters? Weapons?"
Paul's smile faded. "Immortality doesn't mean invincibility. You can still be killed."
Arjun nodded slowly. "So the Tower removes the clock, not the blade."
"Well put," Paul said, clearly impressed.
For a moment, silence settled over the table. Then Paul's expression shifted—less guarded, more curious.
"You're from a newly integrated world," he said. "Tell me… what was it like outside the Tower?"
Divya glanced at Arjun before answering. "Normal," she said after a moment. "Crowded cities. Jobs. Schools. People worrying about tomorrow, not monsters."
Paul listened intently.
"No levels," Divya continued. "No systems. People aged, got sick, and died. Slowly. Quietly."
Paul exhaled through his nose. "A world without quantification."
"We had laws instead of levels," Divya said. "Money instead of mana. Power came from influence, not strength."
Paul shook his head lightly. "Hard to imagine."
"And yet," Arjun added, "people still fought, still ruled, still crushed each other."
Paul laughed softly at that. "Some things transcend worlds."
He set his utensils aside, signaling the end of the meal. "That is as much as I can say openly."
Paul stood and straightened his coat. "The rest isn't meant for public discussion."
His gaze locked onto Arjun. "Come. My office."
As they rose from their seats, one thought echoed clearly in Arjun's mind—
If immortality was real, then the Tower wasn't just a trial.