Chapter 59: Sub-Tower (5)

A Sub-Tower’s Mana Vein could emerge at random anywhere within a hundred-kilometer radius.

This was the first time Magic Stones had ever appeared as natural minerals in the real world, outside the Tower.

For now, the only practical method of locating them was to follow the fragments protruding from the surface and dig along their roots, pulling them out much like a cluster of sweet potatoes.

Once the Mana Vein’s approximate scale had been mapped and preliminary estimates completed, full-scale mining operations would begin.

Japan, too, had thrown itself into surveying for Magic Stones within the radius of the Sendai Sub-Tower.

“...What?”

The scholars and specialists overseeing the excavation froze when the Magic Stones in their test pit suddenly went dark.

And the phenomenon was not limited to that one site.

Every Magic Stone at every location Japan had discovered lost its glow at the same moment, as though they had reverted to ordinary rocks.

The only Magic Stones left intact were the small number that had already been extracted as samples.

It was as if a river had dried up overnight.

The Mana Vein had been severed in an instant.

“What the hell is happening? Why did the Mana Vein suddenly disappear?”

“The other countries’ veins are still functioning? Then why are we the only ones affected?”

Japan was thrown into an uproar.

Some time later, a post appeared on the Communication Channel.

[Person123: Whoever conquers a Sub-Tower is granted the authority to activate or deactivate its Mana Vein.]

[Person123: If a Mana Vein becomes the cause of conflict, I will deactivate the Mana Vein belonging to the country responsible.]

Person123’s announcement sent the Communication Channel into another frenzy.

[Torch: Sub-Tower ownership? So the person who clears one gets a personal reward too?]

[DanceWithMe: Japan’s Mana Vein just completely vanished, and they’re losing their minds. So Person123 did it.]

[Insomnia: Why? What did Japan do?]

[Pepper: I checked the news. Apparently they unilaterally withdrew from some international accord.]

Japan’s withdrawal from the Magic Stone Accord had barely registered internationally amid the chaos surrounding the Sub-Towers.

Person123’s post changed that instantly, dragging the matter into the center of global attention.

[Turkey: Lmaooo. Greed got them smacked first.]

[Blaze: World peace is Person123.]

[Sherlock: A healthy market economy is Person123.]

[ProbAndStats: Brazil and Mongolia got lucky. Japan took the hit before either of them could try anything stupid.]

[MangoJuice: Wait. So China knew about Sub-Tower ownership and hid it to squeeze more concessions out of Mongolia?]

[Bant: Is anyone honestly surprised?]

Japan had gambled away an enormous national windfall and was now being mocked from one end of the Communication Channel to the other.

[Hyaru: But this proves Person123 definitely isn’t Japanese.]

[Mephisto: Who knows? Person123 seems like the type who’d punish their own country the second it crossed a line.]

[Curd: Yeah, that sounds about right.]

[Blizzard: Maybe they’re from one of the countries in the Magic Stone Accord?]

[333Draw: Which countries are in it?]

[Finger: Look it up yourself.]

[Jennifer: Korea, Vietnam, the Philippines, Thailand, and Malaysia.]

[Ullaryu: It barely made the news, but the punishment came immediately. Honestly, Person123 might be from one of those countries.]

[Gold: Or maybe they just watch the news a lot?]

While the rest of the world gathered to enjoy the spectacle, Japan—the house currently on fire—descended into absolute chaos.

Something always hurt more after it had first been placed in your hands and then taken away.

Japan had briefly held the chance to become one of the world’s leading Magic Stone superpowers.

Then that opportunity had fluttered straight out of its grasp.

“Damn it!”

Prime Minister Sato was on the verge of losing control.

If only he had known, he would have read the situation more carefully and proceeded with caution.

If only he had possessed the slightest hint that something like Sub-Tower ownership existed.

“How was anyone supposed to know such a thing was possible?”

There was no other choice.

Somehow, he had to humble himself before Person123 and persuade him to reactivate the Mana Vein.

But Person123 ignored every message unrelated to Nightmare consultations.

As expected, the appeals sent through the Communication Channel received no response.

Prime Minister Sato immediately issued an official statement.

“...The decision regarding withdrawal from the Magic Stone Accord was an unfortunate incident caused by insufficient communication between the parties involved. We deeply regret the misunderstanding, and this cabinet accepts full responsibility for actions that may have appeared somewhat unilateral.”

Stripped of its diplomatic language, the statement meant only one thing.

We will not withdraw from the accord.

We will apologize to the member states and negotiate with them properly.

And if Person123 has any demands, we will accept those as well.

So please give us back the Mana Vein.

Person123’s response?

Nothing.

No further post appeared on the Communication Channel, and the Mana Vein beneath the Sendai Sub-Tower remained dark.

Public outrage swept across the Japanese archipelago and turned squarely against Prime Minister Sato.

Person123 had been the one to deactivate the Mana Vein.

But no matter how bitter the Japanese people felt about having it taken away, how could public criticism possibly gain traction against the man regarded as humanity’s savior?

Naturally, every arrow was redirected toward the already unpopular Prime Minister.

Had the plan succeeded, no one would have blamed the government.

In fact, few would have cared how it had been achieved.

But the outcome had been the worst imaginable.

The story spread like wildfire.

The Prime Minister had made a catastrophic blunder and squandered Japan’s greatest opportunity.

Watching the entire situation unfold, Mongolia—despite having done nothing at all—felt a quiet sense of relief.

“We will seek coexistence and cooperation so that all nations may share in the benefits.”

Brazil, which had quietly been preparing to test the patience of its neighbors, hastily put on an innocent expression and issued a statement of its own.

Meanwhile, Korea and the Southeast Asian nations—the actual parties affected by Japan’s withdrawal—were simply bewildered.

Person123 had intervened on their behalf?

Why?

The matter was hardly trivial to the countries involved, but was it truly important enough to attract the attention of someone occupied with saving humanity?

The only previous occasion on which Person123 had involved himself in international politics was when tensions between national governments and climber associations had been approaching a global breaking point.

This dispute was nowhere near that scale.

It was difficult not to wonder what had motivated him.

“Maybe he was angry because they tried to exploit a Sub-Tower he personally cleared.”

“Or perhaps he takes the conflicts Mana Veins might cause seriously and intends to stop them before they begin. Either way, Japan has been turned into the perfect cautionary example.”

“This situation is advantageous for us, but deciding how to respond is another matter.”

Japan now had a fire beneath its feet and was practically clinging to the other accord members, Korea included.

The Japanese government seemed to believe that if it could stage a convincing reconciliation with the countries it had offended, Person123 might reconsider.

That left the Korean government with a dilemma of its own.

If the terms of the accord could be renegotiated so that even a small portion of the Mana Vein’s profits flowed to Korea, then naturally, Korea would be happy to shake hands and cooperate.

A mutually beneficial agreement was still beneficial.

But would Person123 truly reactivate the Mana Vein once such an agreement was reached?

Japan had clearly fallen out of his favor, and Korea could not help proceeding cautiously.

Japan and the other nations involved could do nothing but wait with bated breath for Person123 to issue another statement.

***

After shutting down the Mana Vein beneath the Sendai Sub-Tower as an example, I began receiving a steady stream of Whispers from people claiming to represent the Japanese government.

I ignored every one of them.

At first, I had no intention of turning the Mana Vein back on.

It hadn’t existed before, and now it simply didn’t exist again.

That was all.

I had already cleared the tower for them.

No one was going to die just because the vein remained inactive.

“Hmm...”

But the longer I thought about it, the more my position began to soften.

Maybe shutting it down permanently was a little too harsh.

China would be happily mining Magic Stones from its Mana Vein while Japan alone was left with nothing.

That was undeniably a serious loss.

Still, I did not want to start issuing personal demands to the Japanese government.

I knew next to nothing about diplomacy, international politics, or governing a country.

So I decided to handle the situation another way.

[Person123: Negotiate with the nations of the Magic Stone Accord and conclude a treaty concerning the Mana Vein. If all five countries—Korea, Vietnam, the Philippines, Thailand, and Malaysia—agree to its terms, I will reactivate the Mana Vein.]

The best outcome would be for them to settle the matter among themselves.

At the very least, this would prevent Japan from running away with the entire pie.

The Sub-Tower had appeared on Japanese soil, so technically the Mana Vein belonged to Japan.

There was nothing inherently wrong with that.

But sitting next door while Magic Stones poured out of the ground in Japan, leaving us with nothing but our thumbs to suck?

That left a bitter taste.

I was the one who had cleared the tower, after all.

I was only human.

I could not help feeling somewhat emotional about it.

That said, I had no desire to manipulate the situation solely for the benefit of my own country either.

This was as far as I intended to push it.

Either they reached a fair agreement and divided the profits reasonably, or nobody received anything.

End of discussion.

[Time until the fifth Sub-Tower appears: 5 minutes, 1 second.]

Time passed.

The appearance of the fifth and final Sub-Tower was now imminent.

Hoping it would emerge somewhere closer this time, I sat in my chair and waited.

[The fifth Sub-Tower has appeared.]

The message appeared.

Then another followed immediately after it.

[A more valuable reward will be granted to the first person to clear the fifth Sub-Tower.]

[Fifth Sub-Tower Time Limit: 29 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds.]

“...?”

A special reward?

And the time limit was thirty days.

The previous Sub-Towers had allowed only seven.

Was the fifth Sub-Tower fundamentally different?

[Satellite: Did you all see that? A special reward?]

[Hwiba: The time limit isn’t seven days. It’s thirty.]

[Huhahu: I don’t like them throwing us a curveball like this;]

[Blade: Where did the Sub-Tower appear?]

I continued watching the Communication Channel, waiting for someone to report its location.

The answer was Tajikistan.

The tower had emerged in Dushanbe, the capital.

Central Asia, huh?

I opened a map and searched for the city.

Tajikistan bordered China.

The distance was roughly five thousand kilometers.

Well...

That was far better than Brazil.

After subtracting the approximately 120 hours of charge I had accumulated over the past week, I would need around 280 more.

I immediately began charging the Warp Device.

Still, if the system was promising a special reward, would the difficulty really remain the same?

Probably not.

There had to be a reason the time limit had been extended.

The fifth Sub-Tower was almost certainly more difficult than the others.

But since all ten floors had to be cleared in a single attempt, surely each individual floor would not be as brutal as Nightmare difficulty.

As the tedious hours crawled by, I continued replenishing my Willpower until the Warp Device was finally ready.

I set my destination toward Tajikistan and activated it immediately.

The first jump placed me well outside the Sub-Tower’s radius.

I corrected my direction and warped once more.

[Will you enter the fifth Sub-Tower?]

I had entered its radius.

“Enter.”

With my guard slightly raised, I stepped inside.

[You have entered the first floor of the fifth Sub-Tower.]

Out of habit, I stopped time and examined my surroundings.

At first glance, the environment looked no different from the previous Sub-Towers.

Weapons had been laid out on the ground in front of me as usual.

But...

There’s nothing here?

There were no monsters.

I allowed time to resume.

I had no idea what was happening, but I was no longer inexperienced enough to be rattled by something so minor.

I calmly began scanning the °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° area.

Then, without warning, my Sixth Sense flared.

Killing intent.

Directly behind me.

Whoosh!

A Goblin appeared out of nowhere and lunged at my back with a dagger.

But I had already leaped away from where I had been standing.

“Keuruk—”

It was a dark-skinned Goblin with a strange pattern painted across its face.

Concealment.

It possessed some form of Concealment ability.

And it was not merely invisible.

Like Diul’s ability, it could erase its presence completely.

Even so, judging by the speed of its attack, its physical abilities were pathetic.

At most, it was slightly stronger than an ordinary Goblin.

I could have taken the dagger head-on without suffering so much as a scratch.

The Goblin turned transparent once again.

“You think that’ll work twice?”

I launched Flame Strike directly at the spot where it stood.

The newly concealed Goblin burst into flames with a sharp pop.

[You have successfully cleared the first floor.]

I watched its ashes drift through the air.

A Concealment-type assassin Goblin...

Things were already getting strange on the very first floor.

The fifth and final Sub-Tower.

Just as I had expected, it was nothing like the others.

It was faint, but unmistakable.

I could already taste it.

The taste of Nightmare.