<Tower of Hanamja Strategy Guide 7>
Section Chief Jeon Gwang-il was just as shocked.
At first, he couldn’t understand why Section Chief Lee Min-ah was so startled.
He assumed Player Bong Joo-hyuk had reappeared within 10 minutes because he’d abandoned the mission.
But then, notifications flooded his smartphone:
Team leader, another system-wide alert just went out.
11 consecutive S++ clears on record.
The Director has convened an emergency meeting.
Wrap up your business trip and return immediately.
He’d already told Director Park Kyung-soo that Bong Joo-hyuk wasn’t an S++ record holder—just a regular contract signee who’d leave promptly.
But this?
It was him.
The meek Bong Joo-hyuk, who couldn’t even hold eye contact with Jeon or Lee Min-ah, was the S++ record holder.
Unless he’s an idiot, how could he not know?
Bong kept calling it a coincidence—
“Coincidence, my ass.”
The floor numbers and timing matched perfectly.
Yet Player Bong Joo-hyuk doubled down:
“Ah, s-s-see, it’s a coincidence… S-sorry, my speech is messed up—anyway, it’s n-not me!”
He stammered but denied it brazenly.
“You’re really not?”
“Yesss! I mean, no!”
But Jeon Gwang-il knew.
Bong Joo-hyuk was the S++ ranker.
His forced calm cracked through his expressions and gestures.
“I see.”
“…Hahaha! T-told you!”
“Since we’ve confirmed your potential, let’s draft the contract. Section Chief Lee Min-ah?”
The sharp-eyed Lee Min-ah produced a document from an envelope—prepared in advance, exclusively for S++ record holders.
“Th-this isn’t a regular contract. It’s an elite team agreement!”
“No. This is beyond that. Call it an ultra-elite contract.”
“…”
“Only Player Yoo Cheol-min in South Korea holds one.”
Player Yoo Cheol-min.
A household name—Korea’s top player, conqueror of the 65th floor and current challenger of the 66th.
“Review it. Every national benefit is included: 12 billion won annual salary, real estate, VVIP privileges, security, even legal immunity.”
“Why… offer this to me?”
“You’ve proven unparalleled talent. Decide now—for Korea’s sake.”
It’s over.
Thanks to that bastard John Cosack and his absurd Three Summoned Principles.
‘Damn it—this spiraled too far.’
Lee Min-ah, noticing his dismay, smiled warmly.
“You deserve recognition, Mr. Joo-hyuk. Join the elite team.”
Thud.
His heart dropped.
‘A woman… smiling at me?’
Joo-hyuk had zero resistance to women. He needed to focus—one misstep, and he’d be trapped.
Steeling himself, he said flatly:
“…I’ll quit if it’s not a regular contract.”
“What?”
“Why?!”
Joo-hyuk clenched his fists.
“I hate attention. Stress kills my motivation.”
“…”
“…”
It was true—he’d always been this way.
“Climbing’s fun now, but it’s only the 11th floor. The future’s unclear. I’m not ready.”
Finally, Jeon Gwang-il understood.
Bong Joo-hyuk’s personality was like the customer who avoids stores where clerks are overly friendly, or the regular who ghosts a restaurant if the owner gets too chatty.
Some recoil from attention—like MBTI’s extreme introverts.
Time to retreat.
“…Understood. We’ll proceed with the regular contract.”
“Oh! Thanks!”
Joo-hyuk skimmed the new contract and signed.
Disaster averted.
Why insist on a regular deal? Why not grab elite benefits?
Because elite contracts chain you to unclimbed floors—no quitting. Plus, he’d have to broadcast his strategies, exposing John Cosack.
And John wasn’t some mindless summon. He was a person.
Need to consult him first.
※ ※ ※
Hannam-dong, Seoul.
Director Park Kyung-soo blinked dumbly at Jeon Gwang-il’s report.
Bong Joo-hyuk—the timid player he’d met earlier—was the S++ record holder? Almost confirmed?
He repeated the question. The answer never changed.
“Team Leader Jeon, your mid-report said he lacked ambition!”
“Correct.”
“But he’s S++?”
“Also correct. Timid, unmotivated… but S++ talent.”
Director Park’s brain short-circuited.
"Well..."
Jeon Gwang-il began recounting the recent events.
Director Park Kyung-soo blinked in disbelief.
"...Could it have been a coincidence?"
Manager Lee Min-ah, herself a seasoned player, responded:
"The timing was exact. This was no accident."
She’d witnessed it firsthand—the flawless synchronization between the tower’s clearance alert and the player’s exit.
The evidence pointed to one conclusion: an S++ rank conqueror existed.
Yet why insist on remaining with the regular team? Were they content to waste such prodigious talent?
"Did you fully explain the elite team’s benefits?"
"Repeatedly. I emphasized every advantage."
"...And they still refused?"
What could motivate this?
"Perhaps they’re angling for better terms—"
"Unlikely. It’s likely their inherent temperament."
"So they’re genuinely that timid?"
"Most probably."
"God, this is infuriating."
What now? Without drive, even genius deserved abandonment.
But an S++ prodigy?
"Contract status?"
"A standard agreement remains safest. Aggressive recruitment risks backlash."
"You’d have us do nothing?"
"Never. That talent can’t be ignored. We must secure them for the elites."
Director Park nodded.
"Agreed—but tread delicately. True introverts might abandon their player status entirely."
"We’ll first profile Bong Joo-hyuk. Identify leverage points."
"Keep this confidential. Only you, Team Leader Jeon, and I are privy."
"Understood."
"Likewise."
The failed elite contract changed nothing. They knew his identity. A standard pact was foothold enough.
Security became paramount—vultures circled rare talent.
"Might he clear Floor 12 at S++?"
"Possibly. Or he might sandbag—delay clears, complicate runs."
"To dodge elite recruitment?"
"Alternatively, he’ll keep dominating. He did call tower climbing ‘fun.’"
Uncertainty lingered. They needed confirmation of his skill yet feared exposing him.
Next morning:
[Notice: S++ Rank Achieved – Black Tower (Korea) Floor 12]
Again? Jeon Gwang-il called immediately.
"Player Bong Joo-hyuk—was that your work?"
...Yes. But Floor 13 may be difficult.
Next day:
[Notice: S++ Rank Achieved – Floor 13]
Difficult?
[Notice: S++ Rank Achieved – Floor 14]
Three consecutive days.
It’s authentic.
Timidity? Irrelevant. Results spoke.
Director Park’s resolve hardened.
"Bring him into elites. Now."
Jeon concurred.
"Assign a handler?"
"Too conspicuous. Maintain standard treatment—too many observers."
"Agreed."
Strategy shifted: slow trust-building. Even extreme reserve might thaw with familiarity.
"Develop closer ties."
"Frequent interaction is key."
"Handle it personally, Team Leader Jeon."
"Of course."
※ ※ ※
Three days prior, post-Floor 11:
Joo-hyuk summoned Cossack, feigning irritation.
"I said gradual progress, yes?"
"...Yessum."
"Then why this exposure?"
"Apologies, summoner."
"Repeat this, and I dissolve our pact. No warnings."
"Understood."
Guilt nagged him—Cossack acted in his interest.
"Mr. Cossack."
"Summoner?"
"What if I revealed you publicly?"
"Your choice, master."
"Truthfully—would you mind?"
"...Hasslesome. Prefer secrecy."
"Noted."
Cossack hailed from another realm. Exposure meant endless scrutiny—origins, motives, identity.
Best to remain hidden.
This path suffices.
Then, to the 12th floor.
[12th Floor Mission: Defeat 20 Ice Spear Weasels.]
[Time Limit: 3 hours.]
[Completion Condition: Ice Spear Weasels 0/20]
[Failure Condition: Death or Abandoning the Mission]
"Take it easy! Let’s proceed normally."
If we clear the 12th floor conventionally, even the Tower Administration might not give up on us.
"Charge!"
Kossak, whose speech cuts through the air like a crisp wind.
This time, he seemed trustworthy.
Unlike the 11th floor’s suffocating swarm of tunnel serpents, the Ice Spear Weasels were sparse and elusive.
We had to venture deeper to hunt them down.
But the 12th floor’s environment was the real enemy.
A vicious, soul-numbing cold.
I’d prepared with a padded jacket and scarf, but razor-edged winds still seeped through every gap in my clothes.
It would’ve been bearable if I could’ve stayed motionless at the tower entrance...
But I had no choice except to keep moving.
Straying from Kossak’s sight alone? Who knew what dangers lurked.
Yet the further we advanced, the more the cold gnawed at us.
My pre-packed heat patches proved useless.
Teeth chattering. Lips turning violet.
Just as I considered pacing to generate warmth—
"We’ll freeze solid at this rate. I’ll wrap this up fast and get you to a heated room."
Kossak lunged toward clusters of Ice Spear Weasels scattered like frostbitten weeds.
"Wait here. This won’t take long."
"No, really—take your time..."
Kossak, predictably, ignored me.
"Hey! You swore absolute obedience—"
And then—
[Notice: S++ Rank Achieved on Black Tower (Korea) Floor 12.]
[Reward: Platinum Badge awarded for S++ Rank Clear.]
‘Bullseye.’
Fine.
Let’s play this game.
"Ahhh, warmth at last. I’ll head out and catch a drama—"
"Summon Release."
Poof!
What dramas? No rewards for defiance.
Team Leader Jeon Gwang-il called immediately after.
Asked if I’d really cleared Floor 12.
Why deny the obvious? I confirmed.
Floor 13’s mission: a corridor riddled with traps.
"Unavoidable. Our task is to cross it. Blades erupt from walls and floors—lethal. I’ll dismantle the mechanisms swiftly."
"..."
Floor 14’s cave:
"A Giant Eyeball Bat. Its sonic scream is an area attack—you’ll be caught in it, Summoner Bong. I’ll eliminate it preemptively."
"..."
Kossak remained unmoved even by my summon-release threats.
Summoned Servant Principle #3.
Infuriatingly. Stubbornly. Stubborn.
Juhyeok surrendered.
Absolute obedience? What a joke.
The man’s ears were decorative.
Fine. Have it your way.
Curious how far this’ll go.
Not that I’ll quit either.
My body’s already conditioned.
My bank account bulged—2.75 million won from magic stone sales up to Floor 10, plus 2 million in player subsidies.
Another 5kg of magic stones from Floors 11-14 sat in my inventory.
‘This batch alone’s worth 2.5 million.’
Total? Over 7 million earned.
Future earnings? Unfathomable.
I’d quit convenience store and butcher shop gigs permanently.
Focus breeds success.
Abandon the tower now?
Please—
I’m cautious, not delusional.
