<Tower of Hanamja Strategy Guide 9>
For two weeks, I repeated only the 15th-floor missions.
While waiting for the random summon cooldown to reset, I honed my Shadow Step skill, tested the energy shield, and stockpiled magic stones to buy combat gear.
Ahhh!
Four birds with one stone—a perfect efficiency play.
What a packed schedule!
Flawless. Absolutely flawless.
"Energy Shield."
Zing!
A translucent glass-like barrier encases my entire body.
"Shadow Step."
Swish! Swisssh!
Juhyuk’s figure darts in a jagged path.
Afterimages linger with each movement.
It looks downright professional.
Anyone watching would mistake me for a high-level veteran.
Even Juhyuk sensed it.
‘Do I have actual talent?’
Nah, couldn’t be.
Just killing time on Floor 15 like this…
[Mission Complete: Floor 15]
[Level Up!]
[Reward: 1.5kg of Magic Stone]
[Exiting the Korean Black Tower.]
Another loop cleared.
The catch? Each run takes under 10 minutes.
Ends before I can even blink.
Shadow Step is manageable,
but what about the energy shield?
Gotta test it somehow.
Maybe ask Kosak to poke me with a dagger?
"Huh?"
"Stab me. Lightly. With your dagger."
"…Uuugh,"
Kosak clapped a hand over his mouth, stumbling back like I’d threatened his life.
"Wh-why me?! If you’re angry, just beat me senseless! I’ll n-never cross you again!"
"Relax. I need to check if my shield works. Just a tiny prick."
"Kyaaaah! I’m deaf! Can’t hear a thing! Lalala—!"
"…"
What’s his problem?
Drama queen.
I’m not asking for a murder attempt—just a nick!
Fine. I’ll test it myself.
Time blurred as the 15th-floor grind continued.
The goblin workers’ patterns shifted each run, but they were still pushovers.
Juhyuk drilled his skills.
Kosak decapitated goblins on the sidelines.
Gotta make progress somehow.
Then—
"Huh?"
A shivering goblin worker crawled through the underbrush, sneaking away.
‘…Just one?’
No weapons. Alone. Pathetic.
"Hmm."
Prime chance to test the shield.
What’s the move?
Gotta decide fast.
The mission’s about to auto-complete—
‘Screw it.’
Swisssh!
Juhyuk cut off the goblin’s escape with Shadow Step.
Thud!
His ankle smacked into the goblin’s skull.
The creature veered left, thinking it hit a branch—thud! Blocked again.
It froze.
Finally, the goblin lifted its head.
Juhyuk glared down. The goblin gaped up.
Eyes locked.
A beat of silence—
"Screeeech!"
The goblin sank jagged yellow teeth into Juhyuk’s ankle.
Crunch! Grind!
"Gah! Damn it—scared the hell out of me!"
It bit my leg?!
Wham!
Juhyuk soccer-kicked its head.
"Ggk!"
Whoosh!
The goblin soared toward Kosak, who was gleefully sword-dancing.
Kosak bisected the airborne pest mid-pirouette.
"Nice pass! You play futsal or—gasp!"
He paled, sprinting to Juhyuk in panic.
"SUMMONER-SSI!!! ARE YOU OKAY?!"
Flailing like a headless chicken.
"Y-you fought a goblin?! Why?! Are you hurt?!"
"I’m fine."
Seriously.
Didn’t expect my kick to launch it that far.
A worker goblin, sure—but still.
‘Then again, I’m Level 16.’
And the shield?
It definitely took a bite, but zero pain. Not even a torn pant leg.
Just shattered teeth fragments on the ground.
"I’ve warned you, Summoner-ssi! Recklessness will get you killed!"
"It’s one goblin."
"One becomes two. Two becomes three. Three becomes an army."
"It’s a weakling laborer."
"Laborers become scouts. Scouts become warriors. Warriors become shamans."
“Please take good care of your precious health, Summoner Bong!”
What’s his deal, really?
I know he’s loyal, but he’s pushing the sycophant act too hard.
If he’d been a Joseon-era eunuch, he’d have been the king’s favorite in no time.
“Alright, I’ll be careful.”
For the next fifteen days, I stuck to repetitive missions.
My skill proficiency grew, and magic stones accumulated steadily.
22.5 kilograms—selling this at market price would net me 11.25 million won.
Maybe it’s time to check out the player shop at the Management Office?
Visiting the Management Office required notifying staff first—either the contract liaison or the magic stone collector. Juhyuk knew two contacts: Team Leader Jeon Gwang-il and Manager Lee Min-ah. The choice was obvious. Dealing with a man felt simpler than navigating interactions with a woman.
After sending a request to visit the shop, my phone rang moments later.
“Hello?”
“Ah! Player Bong. You wish to visit the player shop?”
“Yes. Can I come now?”
“I’ll dispatch a staff vehicle immediately.”
“No need—I’ll take a taxi.”
“This service is standard for all contractors. You may also sell your magic stones there.”
“Hmm. Fine, I’ll wait.”
They send cars for regular contractors? Seriously?
Well, I’d take the VIP treatment in stride.
※ ※ ※
South Korea’s player population is estimated at 7,000—possibly fewer. Despite government contracts with nearly all players, exact numbers remain elusive. Unregistered players, revoked licenses, and fatalities create constant flux.
Unregistered players stay off-grid. License revocations occur when players fail to clear any tower floors for three months—the system auto-terminates them. The government learns months later, once magic stone production ceases, then cancels contracts and benefits.
Deaths spike during failed tower climbs. Higher floors mean greater danger, but even repetitive missions aren’t safe. Identical missions vary: monster spawns shift, trap mechanisms evolve. During my 15th-floor grind, complacency nearly killed me.
Aborting missions requires reaching the tower’s safe zone to formally quit. Fleeing mid-mission? Suicide. Over 20 years, thousands of Korean players have died—all declared missing, bodies unrecovered.
To boost safety and magic stone output, the government runs player-exclusive shops. The Hannam-dong Awakening Management Office basement houses one, selling gear at cost (still expensive).
Arriving by staff car, I found Team Leader Jeon waiting at the entrance.
“Welcome, Player Bong.”
“Sorry for the trouble.”
“None at all. Follow me.”
The basement shop wasn’t freely accessible.
“First, registration. Palm vein authentication.”
A glass panel scan later—beep!—done.
“You may now visit anytime without notice.”
“Thanks.”
“Need a guided tour?”
“I’ll browse alone.”
“Of course. We offer delivery—shop freely!”
Stepping inside, I realized how long it’d been since I’d visited a physical store. I could count such trips on one hand. These days? Strictly online.
Talking to the staff isn’t easy.
But since I’ve already mustered the courage, I might as well go ahead.
Juhyuk placed his hand on the vein recognition glass in front of the shop entrance.
Ding!
“Oh…”
The shop’s interior was lavishly decorated.
Staff members stood ready to assist, but not a single customer was in sight.
Even with the small number of players, this felt unusual.
Why was no one here?
‘Is it because everything’s too expensive?’
This was where elite teams had the upper hand.
They received equipment items for free.
‘Let’s start by selling the magic stones.’
Magic stone sales.
I’d earned 7 million won from clearing floors 1 to 15.
Add to that the 22.5kg of magic stones obtained from farming the 15th floor for two weeks—
“We’ve confirmed 22.5kg. The market price is 11.25 million won. Once a buyer is secured, the funds will be deposited into your account within three days.”
“Uh, c-can I use the credit here now?”
“Absolutely. Any purchases will be deducted from your pending payment. Please keep that in mind.”
“Got it.”
Time to shop.
Not that I found it enjoyable.
Better to buy what I need and leave.
‘Weapons…’
The weapon display corner gleamed with razor-sharp blades: longswords, daggers, spears, staffs, bows—even pistols.
“Are you looking for anything specific?”
“N-no, just browsing.”
“Feel free to ask if you have questions.”
Talking to strangers was awkward, but at least the staff member was male. Less pressure.
I had to clarify a few things.
“Can I take these into the tower?”
“If carried on your person, yes. They can also be stored in your inventory.”
The tower-exclusive inventory only accepted tower-acquired items.
So why could these weapons be stored there?
‘Ah—they’re made from magic stones and tower metals.’
Metals mined in the tower.
Rewards grew more substantial from the 30th floor onward: extraterrestrial ingots like adamantite, orichalcum, and sectonium.
Basic rewards offered 3kg, up to 10kg for exceptional strategies.
Equipment forged from these materials could enter the inventory—hence their exorbitant prices.
The cheapest weapon cost 20 million won. Many cost far more.
They were sold at material cost to players. Bring your own resources, and crafting was free.
“Players are exempt from blade possession permits. Firearms, however, are rental-only and restricted to designated entry points.”
Makes sense.
Even players couldn’t freely wield guns.
But guns had limits. Useful up to the 20th floor, their bullets couldn’t pierce 30th-floor monsters.
Bows and crossbows fared better—compatible with skills, unlike firearms.
I needed a weapon. Not for attacking, but for emergencies: something to smash a monster’s skull and flee.
‘Hm?’
A dark metal club caught my eye—a mace.
‘That could work.’
Testing its weight, I found it balanced and manageable.
‘Perfect.’
Bladed weapons unnerved me. Slashing moving targets? I couldn’t even gut a live fish.
“How much is this?”
“That’s an adamantite mace. The price is… 2 million won.”
“What?”
2 million? Had I misheard?
“It’s a… customer return.”
‘Suspicious.
The base price was 20 million.
‘Wait—
Team Leader Jeon Gwang-il’s face flashed in my mind. The arranged ride, the empty shop, this absurd discount…
Too calculated.
My timid nature had honed my intuition.
‘Confront him? Or play dumb and buy it?’
Ignorance absolved responsibility.
“Wow! What a steal. I’ll take it!”
“Shall I wrap it?”
“No, I’ll store it directly.”
Weapon acquired. What else?
Not much, it seemed.
※ ※ ※
Park Kyung-soo, head of the management office, questioned Jeon Gwang-il:
“Progress?”
“Player Bong is shopping now.”
“No other customers?”
“None. All players were notified the shop is closed today.”
“And the pricing?”
“A 90% discount. Free items might’ve raised suspicion.”
“Good.”
A successful haul would let him tackle the 16th floor.
