Chapter 82: The Masked Auction (4)

...One person?

I frowned.

He was offering me a legendary-grade skill stone in exchange for killing a single person?

“If you wish to accept the offer, simply use the skill stone. One unit will be deducted.”

“...”

I remained silent.

Thoughts flooded my mind.

The first thing that occurred to me when I heard the price—one human life—was...

‘...Is that all?’

And honestly?

Yes.

I wasn’t nearly as noble or selfless as everyone seemed to believe.

People kept calling me humanity’s savior, but I was no saint.

Not ten thousand lives. Not even a thousand.

Just one.

Some might ask how anyone could dare place a price on a human life.

And they would be right. Human life was precious.

But by my standards, its value was not absolute.

When necessary, it was something that could be weighed against other things.

And this was no ordinary reward.

It was a legendary-grade skill.

A full tier above epic.

Legendary.

Even Destruction Ray, an epic+ skill, was already terrifyingly powerful.

...So what kind of power would a legendary-grade skill possess?

How great an advantage would it give me as I continued climbing on Nightmare difficulty?

One life out of eight billion, sacrificed in exchange for overwhelming power.

Somewhere on Earth, one person would die. One more name added to the hundreds of thousands who died across the world every day.

...I couldn’t help but think it was a reasonable trade.

I remembered the person at the auction who had shouted that I should take the skill stone for myself.

Honestly, ninety-nine people out of a hundred would probably have told me to accept the legendary skill.

It was tempting.

Exceedingly so.

And yet...

My mind remained calm.

Because the one making the offer was none other than the Tower.

‘What are you trying to accomplish?’

Why was the Tower making me this offer? What did it hope to gain?

Was it trying to break my conscience?

Was it merely toying with me, testing whether I could still refuse after being presented with such an irresistible reward?

...Neither explanation felt quite right.

The Tower wanted me to fail my climb.

It wanted me dead.

Why, then, would it grant me an enormous increase in combat power merely to test my morality?

This was different from the penalty on the fourth floor or the Ark offered on the sixth.

No matter how I looked at it, the arrangement overwhelmingly favored me.

All I had to do was compromise my conscience—just a little.

“Why are you offering me this?”

I asked the Auctioneer directly.

“This reeks of a trap. Do you honestly expect me to swallow it without question?”

The Auctioneer said nothing.

Apparently, he had no intention of answering.

I stopped time.

After thinking it over for a long while, I reached a decision.

Then I allowed time to resume.

“I have two conditions.”

“...”

“Accept them, and I’ll take the deal. Otherwise, we’re finished.”

“What are they?”

I had half expected him to ignore me again, but to my surprise, the Auctioneer responded.

I stated my first condition.

“I choose which Non-Climber dies. It won’t be random.”

I still had no idea what the Tower intended.

But I trusted its malice.

What if the victim wasn’t truly chosen at random?

What if the entire offer had been rigged so that the Tower could target someone in my family?

That suspicion alone had nearly convinced me to reject the offer outright.

So I presented an absurd condition, fully prepared to walk away.

Naturally, I expected it to be refused.

The Auctioneer paused briefly before answering.

“The Master says he will accept the condition you have stated.”

“...”

He accepted it?

So my family wasn’t the target?

The Tower’s willingness to agree so readily only deepened my unease.

[Legendary-Grade Skill Stone]

When used, allows the acquisition of one legendary-grade skill.

“Please state your second condition.”

I stared at the legendary-grade skill stone for a moment before continuing.

“Replace this one with a legendary skill stone that displays the skill’s name and description—the same kind of skill stone awarded for clearing a floor.”

“...”

“Whether I use this stone to acquire a skill or you simply hand me one directly, the result is random from my perspective either way. So give me one whose description I can read.”

Compared with my first demand, it was hardly unreasonable.

Yet the Auctioneer did not respond.

“...Nothing to say?”

I kept my eyes fixed on him.

A long silence passed before he finally answered.

“He says that condition cannot be accepted.”

“...Why? Is that truly such a difficult request?”

“He says that condition cannot be accepted.”

The Auctioneer merely repeated himself.

Ha...

This son of a bitch.

I looked from the Auctioneer to the skill stone and let out a hollow laugh.

“It isn’t random, is it?”

“...”

“What skill were you trying to give me?”

There was a rare-grade skill called Heavyweight.

It greatly increased the user’s physical durability at the cost of reduced movement speed.

The problem was that it was a passive skill. Its effect remained active at all times, whether the user wanted it or not.

And once a skill had been acquired, it could not be deleted.

That possibility had occurred to me while I was considering the offer.

What if the legendary skill contained within the stone wasn’t random at all?

What if the Tower had predetermined it?

And what if it was a passive skill like Heavyweight—one that granted a powerful benefit while also imposing a disadvantage?

...What if that disadvantage proved fatal to me?

By now, I was almost certain.

The Tower had accepted the outrageous condition that allowed me to choose the victim, yet refused to reveal the skill’s description?

The whole thing stank.

It reeked of a rigged skill stone.

I closed the lid of the box.

“If you can’t accept my condition, take it back. I wouldn’t want it even if you gave it to me for free.”

The Auctioneer continued to stand there in silence.

He simply stared at me.

I glared back.

Then, without warning, the box containing the skill stone vanished.

A moment later, the Auctioneer crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“...”

I looked down at him.

He lay perfectly still, like a machine that had run out of power. Then his body dissolved into smoke and scattered.

I stood there blankly before speaking into the empty air.

“...Hello?”

What was supposed to happen now?

If this was over, they at least needed to send me back—

“Oh.”

The scene before my eyes shifted.

I was standing in my room.

I was back.

The mask had vanished from my face as well.

I exhaled deeply.

“Phew...”

Sitting down in my chair, I carefully reconsidered everything that had happened.

Had there truly been something wrong with the skill?

Almost certainly.

The Tower had even agreed to let me choose the person who would die.

No matter how I looked at it, something had been off.

...Come to think of it, perhaps setting the price at a single life had been part of the trap from the very beginning.

Had the Tower offered me a legendary skill for free, I would have suspected it immediately.

Maybe it had deliberately demanded one life so that all my attention would be drawn to the moral cost.

It wanted me to believe that its only goal was to corrupt my conscience while concealing the real trap elsewhere.

...If that was true, the Tower was one devious bastard.

This incident had made one thing clearer than ever.

Whenever the Tower offered me something, I could not afford to lower my guard—not even for a moment.

Anyway...

The rule had ended without anyone dying.

Except number 41.

I was exhausted in every sense of the word.

I threw myself onto the bed and closed my eyes.

***

After the climbers invited to the Masked Auction returned safely, the first place to erupt was the Communication Channel.

[Receipt: You guys have no idea what happened in there. It was insane.]

[Hecty: What? Tell us. What happened?]

[Receipt: When we were transported into the auction hall, everyone was wearing masks...]

Eager to share their experience, the participants began recounting everything with great enthusiasm.

They spoke of an auction where the lives of Non-Climbers had been used as currency.

Every item placed on the block had been a rare+ skill or better, and even an epic-grade skill—a full tier above rare—had appeared.

Above all, they spoke about Person123.

They described what had happened during the auction and how the horrific incident, with countless civilian lives hanging in the balance, had finally ended.

Those listening were utterly stunned.

[Watchdog: Seriously? Person123 was invited too?]

[Viper: Person123 killed one of the bidders to invalidate the auction? For real?]

[Davin: Wait, what’s this about shaking hands with Person123?! Explain it properly!]

Stories of every kind spread through the Communication Channel, keeping it ablaze for the entire day.

The real world was no less frenzied.

Eyewitness accounts from people who had seen Person123 in person immediately became the most sensational topic of the age.

There was scarcely a story anywhere in the twenty-first century that could rival it.

During the Wang Kai incident, the members of the Security Corps and the Black Star Society who had been directly involved had released only official statements. None of them had spoken freely about what had occurred.

This time, however, things were different.

Broadcasters and media organizations desperately competed to secure interviews with the climbers who had been taken to the Masked Auction.

It wasn’t long before one such interview went on the air.

“There are all kinds of stories circulating about the Masked Auction. Isn’t that right, Brooks?”

“That’s right. And that’s precisely why I’m here—to tell everyone what actually happened.”

It was the famous podcast The Jude Noise.

Brooks, an Easy-difficulty climber on the seventh floor and number 27 at the Masked Auction, had appeared as a guest.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, they moved on to the main subject.

The host, Jude, asked,

“Shall we begin, then? What exactly happened at the Masked Auction?”

Brooks adopted a grave expression as he recalled the scene.

“First, when the appointed time came, we were transported into a dark auction hall. There was a stage and an audience area. All one hundred invitees, myself included, were wearing masks, with numbered tags attached to our chests. And then, on the stage...”

He briefly explained the hundred invitees, the mysterious non-human Auctioneer, and the skill stone presented as the first item.

Then he continued.

“...When I heard what the Auctioneer said, I couldn’t believe my ears. Each of the hundred invitees had been given a balance of one million—but those figures represented the lives of Non-Climbers. Their lives were the currency we were expected to use when bidding on the auction items.”

“My God. That’s horrifying. Wouldn’t that amount to one hundred million lives in total?”

“It would. In any case, the auction began, and someone immediately rose to her feet and shouted. Her name was Shin Su-jin, a Korean climber. She’s fairly well known on the fifth floor and serves as an officer in the Security Corps.”

Brooks explained how Shin Su-jin had removed her mask and urged everyone not to place a bid.

Then he spoke about the troublemaker who had appeared afterward.

Number 41.

“...Number 41 was completely insane. He argued that if civilians had to die, then so be it. According to him, the climbers needed to claim the auction items, grow stronger, and use that strength to help the world. He kept saying that tens of millions of people died every year anyway, so sacrificing this many wouldn’t matter. He said everything he could to provoke the others.”

“My God...”

“...And then it happened. Person123 revealed himself!”

Excitement crept into Brooks’s voice.

“Sir Person123 spoke up. He warned us not to play into the Tower’s hands. He asked everyone not to place a bid—and said that he trusted us.”

Jude leaned forward.

“So Person123 revealed his identity because he was worried that people would be persuaded by number 41? Because once one person placed a bid, everyone else might follow?” ℴ

“Exactly. But even then, number 41 refused to stop. In the end, he placed a bid worth one thousand lives.”

“Oh dear...”

“That lunatic continued spouting nonsense. He asked why no one else wanted to participate in such an entertaining auction and boasted that he would simply claim every item for himself.

“Eventually, several others began bidding as well. The price quickly rose from one thousand to five thousand. There was no telling how high it might have gone. But then...”

Jude stiffened slightly.

He already had a rough idea of what had happened next.

Brooks raised one hand.

“In the midst of all that chaos, Sir Person123 slowly lifted his hand.”

“...”

“He wasn’t placing a bid. He calmly asked the Auctioneer a question: what would happen if the highest bidder died?

“The Auctioneer replied that the bid would be invalidated and the auction would begin again. The moment Sir Person123 heard the answer...”

Pew.

Brooks shaped his raised hand into a finger gun and mimed firing it into the air.

“Number 41 simply vanished. It was exactly like the power we had only ever heard about in rumors.”

“...The Pitch-Black Ray.”

“That’s right. There wasn’t even a sound, which somehow made it even more chilling. Number 41 disappeared as though he had never existed. We didn’t realize he was dead until the Auctioneer announced that the highest bidder had been killed.”

Brooks released a quiet sigh before continuing.

“Then Sir Person123 walked to the front of the stage. While everyone stood frozen in silence, he made a declaration.

“No one was to bid.

“Anyone who did would die.”

Jude swallowed involuntarily.

“He had already asked them several times not to place a bid, but they refused to listen. So he made his decision. Had he allowed the auction to continue, at least five thousand civilians would have died.

“After that, naturally, no one dared to bid. Who would have, after seeing what happened to number 41?”

“No one could have.”

“Exactly. Every remaining item passed without receiving a single bid. Then the final item appeared—an epic-grade skill, one tier above rare.”

After briefly describing Lion’s Roar, the epic-grade skill presented at the auction, Brooks recounted the final moments.

“We were all waiting for the last item to pass without a bid, just like the others. But suddenly, someone stood and shouted that Person123 should take at least this one item. They said that even if ten thousand people had to be sacrificed, the man destined to save humanity deserved to have it.”

“I understand. Since it was an epic-grade skill...”

“But Sir Person123 firmly shook his head. To him, it wasn’t even worth considering. And so the final epic-grade skill stone also went unsold.

“That was how the auction ended.”

Only after Brooks finished his lengthy account did Jude breathe a sigh of relief.

Even before recording began, he had been certain the episode would perform well.

Now, however, he was convinced that it would shatter every viewership record The Jude Noise had ever set.

“...There have also been numerous claims that the participants shook hands with Person123 afterward. Is that true?”

Brooks grinned proudly.

“Ah, that? Yes, it’s true. Sir Person123 shook my hand as well. I held his hand myself—with this very right hand.”

“...! Could you tell us more about it?”

“Haha! Of course. I’ll tell you everything.”

He spoke about the brief gathering after the auction had ended.

And about how Person123 had shaken hands with every participant.

With that, the story of the Masked Auction incident came to an end.

After Brooks’s podcast episode aired, news outlets, media organizations, online communities, and even the Communication Channel erupted.

— Person123 saves 100 million Non-Climbers at the Masked Auction...

— Person123’s unwavering decision to protect the people...

— One hundred million lives at risk? How Person123 saved them all once again...

[Chris: Again, again, again, again—AGAIN! It’s you again?!]

[Cheese: Great Person123, how much longer will you continue protecting humanity?]

[Trimidibi: Damn, killing the bidder to invalidate the auction was genuinely insane.]

[Sobo: “Bid and I’ll kill you.” Jesus. If I’d witnessed that in person, I would’ve shit myself.]

[Fighter: Has anyone identified that piece of shit number 41?]

[Goblin: Dude, he’s already dead. Who cares?]

[Spin: Oh, fuck off. I kept praying not to be selected, and this is the one time they actually listened?]

[Vodka: I didn’t even pray, and I still wasn’t selected. What the hell?]

[Jumprope: Honestly, I’m so fucking jealous of everyone who got to witness it in person.]

[Yus: Shaking his hand is what I’m jealous of. When would anyone ever get another chance to shake hands with humanity’s savior?]

[Snowfall: When he killed number 41, it was so brutal that no one could even breathe. But after the auction, he treated everyone else so gently. He really was like a savior.]

Not long after clearing the sixth floor, the entire world was once again singing the praises of Person123.