Gi-Gyu stood on the 60th floor of the Tower. Everyone who had passed this floor had claimed it was the safest yet, but it was also the longest and most tedious.

‘Just because it’s safe doesn’t mean it will be easy.’ 

The world around him was dark, pitch black, with not a single light ray. Gi-Gyu sat in the lotus position.

Initially, the space was only missing light; as time passed, he felt he was slowly losing his other senses. It began with sight, but his sense of touch, hearing, and taste would follow.

And once they were all gone, Gi-Gyu knew he would have to spend eternity here. It would be however long the Tower deemed necessary.

[2160:00]

In the lightless space, a billboard materialized. The light on it flickered, and the number on the board changed.

[2159:59]

The first number represented the hours, and the second number the minutes. Of the 90 days he had to spend here, he had already spent one minute. He had to survive on this floor for the next three months.

‘Well, this is what the Tower wants, so…’ 

Gi-Gyu closed his eyes, and the billboard disappeared along with it. There was no way of knowing when this billboard would reappear; until then, he just had to fight the terrible boredom.

It was like fighting himself.

***

Before Gi-Gyu had left to take the 60th-floor test, Soo-Jung asked him, “You look good, huh?”

Gi-Gyu was stretching his arms leisurely. His recovery was quick. Although he wasn’t fully healed, moving around was no problem now.

Soo-Jung was visiting him in his room. They were alone now.

Gi-Gyu replied, “Yup, I feel good. Can’t be better.”

He wasn’t at his peak, but he replied with a content smile, “My head feels much clearer now.”

As if lost in thought, Soo-Jung stared at him for a long time before asking, “You used it, didn’t you?”

“...”

She hesitantly clarified, “I’m talking about God’s power.”

Gi-Gyu stopped stretching and turned toward Soo-Jung. He gave her a wide grin, and they shared an odd look.

He opened his lips and finally broke the awkward silence. “I think we should first go visit Advisor Lim Hye-Sook.”

***

Gi-Gyu couldn’t tell how much time had passed. This world of nihility had consumed his powers and senses.

How long had it been?

One hour?

A day?

A month?

Perhaps he was close to the three-month mark.

But...

[2150:59]

The billboard had seemingly materialized only to disappoint him.

Nine hours.

The cruel number almost made him laugh.

But…

‘It’s okay.’ 

What he needed was time. And not just any time but one that stopped and didn’t go on. This was precisely why he came here. Unlike other players, he didn’t have to worry about the time on the billboard because it was hell to the others but a chance to him.

Gi-Gyu was here out of necessity. To him, this was a safe haven. He felt much better now. No, actually, he felt a little impatient. Every second counted, so he turned off his consciousness again.

His senses and the billboard disappeared along with him.

Fwoosh.

Eventually, Gi-Gyu could see. This was no longer a place of pure darkness. Both time and all of his senses awakened. He would soon forget the flow of time, but he at least got his senses back.

According to players who had passed the 60th, there was nothing worse than losing one’s senses.

‘Sensory deprivation is the scariest experience you can ever have. There is nothing worse…’

The other players feared the loneliness that his vast, empty place brought. But this didn’t concern Gi-Gyu. The other players probably couldn’t understand, but he didn’t feel lonely at all in this place.

“Dammit, isn’t it over yet?” Jupiter, wrapped in metal chains and standing in front of Gi-Gyu, muttered.

As always, seeing his other self was like looking in the mirror. They looked the same, but he knew better now. He was now aware of Jupiter’s true identity.

Gi-Gyu grinned. He wasn’t lonely anymore. He couldn’t be. The Tower isolated him from everyone and everything, but it chose not to separate Jupiter from him.

This was because Jupiter and Gi-Gyu were the same. There was no way to separate them.

“There is still a lot of time left,” Gi-Gyu replied.

This seemingly endless amount of time was a huge gift to Gi-Gyu.

“Let’s get started, Jupiter.”

“Tsk.”

The metal chains that bound Jupiter slowly began to loosen.

***

“This is shocking,” Lim Hye-Sook whispered.

“Do you like it?”

“How could I not?!”

She had been lying on the bed like a corpse only a few minutes ago; now, she was strolling in her beautiful and youthful form.

“I feel no different from before,” Lim Hye-Sook announced as she stood in front of Gi-Gyu as his Ego.

Gi-Gyu had already talked to Yoo-Bin about what to do. The only way to save Lim Hye-Sook was to egofy her. Perhaps using God’s power was another way, but Gi-Gyu was uncertain he could use it successfully again.

“Thank you,” Lim Hye-Sook thanked Gi-Gyu. He had given her a new lease on life.

She continued, “Is this the loyalty your other Egos feel? How interesting.”

There was one emotion that all his Egos felt—unexplainable and unconditional loyalty—and Lim Hye-Sook was now feeling the same too.

Gi-Gyu was beginning to understand his Ego Master title, but he still couldn’t do anything about this.

What his Egos felt was like…

‘Protective instinct.’ 

It was like the Egos were born to protect their master, and Gi-Gyu could do anything about it.

Lim Hye-Sook seemed amused by the situation. She commented, “This isn’t a bad thing. It’s not a bad feeling.” Turning toward him, she asked, “Is Yoo-Bin okay?”

“Of course. She’s in better condition than before, so you don’t have to worry.”

Lim Hye-Sook seemed finally relieved by Gi-Gyu’s reassurance.

“I want to see Yoo-Bin,” she replied childishly.

But…

“No, not yet,” Gi-Gyu replied firmly.

Lim Hye-Sook looked confused.

Creak.

Before Gi-Gyu could explain, Soo-Jung walked into the room.

She asked, “Guess you’re okay, huh?”

Lim Hye-Sook muttered, “You’re as rude as ever, aren’t you?”

“Hmph.” Soo-Jung harrumphed. It looked like Soo-Jung and Lim Hye-Sook didn’t have a good relationship.

Gi-Gyu interrupted their conversation to lighten the mood and explained, “Yoo-Bin is still getting used to her new body. Until then, it would be best if you don’t see her.”

Looking at them, Gi-Gyu added, “We have some time, so shall we talk now? Since Advisor Lim Hye-Sook has recovered, I think it’s time.”

“All right,” Lim Hye-Sook shook her head and replied. She felt fine, but her mind still felt a bit disorganized.

Gi-Gyu turned to look at Soo-Jung. It was as if he was asking her if it was okay for Lim Hye-Sook to hear their conversation.

Soo-Jung mumbled, “Why are you looking at me? Isn’t she unquestionably loyal to now? So it doesn’t matter if she hears it. In fact, what you want to hear from her will probably overlap with what I’m about to say, so it will be more convenient.”

She added, “And why don’t you get Lou and El too? It will be helpful if they hear about this too.”

Gi-Gyu nodded. He had waited so long to hear this story; finally, it was time.

***

Whoosh.

The chained hand rushed toward Gi-Gyu as it cut through the wind. Gi-Gyu moved his foot to get out of the way, and the chained hand missed. Then, a sword appeared in Gi-Gyu’s hand.

It was a black sword made of Death. Gi-Gyu raised it to cleave Jupiter into two.

“Haa,” Jupiter sighed. He didn’t move; instead, he accepted the sword with his body.

Clunk.

The sound of two hollow metal pieces colliding rang in the air. The sword made of Death had reached its target, but not a single wound appeared on Jupiter.

Jupiter seemed annoyed as he growled, “You can’t harm me with your current strength.”

Gi-Gyu bit his lips and leaned back while Jupiter only watched, unconcerned about what would be Gi-Gyu’s next move.

Gi-Gyu repositioned himself as another sword appeared in his other hand. Like the first, this one was also made of Death.

Jupiter smirked. “You can’t even use Death fully, so how can two swords change anything? You can have four swords, but the result will be the same.”

Jupiter was right. As long as Gi-Gyu couldn’t use Death’s fully, he couldn’t even scratch it.

Jupiter was just that strong.

“Don’t you even get tired?” Jupiter asked with a sigh.

Ignoring him, Gi-Gyu aimed both of his swords toward his target.

Boom!

Gi-Gyu sprinted toward his enemy so fast that he became invisible.

Clankkkkk!

A different sound was heard this time, as Gi-Gyu had rotated like a peg-top to attack Jupiter.

“Not bad.” Jupiter realized that Gi-Gyu had tricked it, and a serious look appeared on its face. It turned out that Gi-Gyu hadn’t simply made another sword of Death. The Death energy was thicker than before, but Jupiter didn’t realize it until now.

Gi-Gyu had made the change secretly, so an unaware Jupiter had faced the attack head-on.

Clankkk!

As the metal chains and the Death swords collided, sparks of bewildering colors flew everywhere.

“I’m so bored,” Jupiter muttered, but they were just empty words.

Whoosh!

Its fist tore the air inside this virtual space—which Gi-Gyu had created inside his shell—as it rushed toward him. Jupiter didn’t put all of its strength into it, but it was still enough to make Gi-Gyu gasp.

He tensed when Jupiter’s fist stopped right before his eyes. The first didn’t move further; it remained suspended in the air.

“Dammit,” Jupiter swore.

Clatter.

The loose metal chains tightened around Jupiter again, pulling him back to where he was.

Jupiter yelled, “Just how long do I have to do this? This is so annoying. If you would just stop resisting and let me have your body… I would have been able to do everything you wanted.”

“Shut up,” Gi-Gyu replied to Jupiter for the first time since he got here.

Gi-Gyu knew better than anyone how disgustingly powerful Jupiter was. Perhaps there was no one else stronger than Jupiter. But Gi-Gyu would never let it have his body.

“I will defeat you,” Gi-Gyu said to Jupiter as he lowered his Death swords.

Accomplishing this would be impossible in his current condition, but…

“I have plenty of time,” Gi-Gyu announced as he took a battle stance.

Clatter.

The metal chains around Jupiter loosened again and hit the ground.

“Dammit, not again.” Jupiter’s annoying voice filled the space.