A space of pure white.

Yurian, the youngest of Gnosis, walked straight through the rows of bio-breeding capsules.

Behind the cylindrical reinforced glass of the capsules, living beings of every shape were curled up like children.

Yurian gazed at the failed creations, a smile tugging at his lips.

'These won’t be needed anymore.'

Because at last, they had succeeded in creating a “master.”

It was to deliver this joyous news that Yurian sought out Han Roun.

But Han Roun was in the middle of a phone call with someone.

'Is he receiving a report on the experiment?'

Yurian halted, waiting for the call to end.

Then suddenly, Han Roun’s expression twisted.

It was the first time Yurian had ever seen him make such a face.

Why...? For an instant, his heart plummeted.

Then Han Roun noticed him, smiling faintly.

What was going on? Seeing the charming dimple appear on his cheek, Yurian’s eyes flickered with unease.

“What’s wrong? Something went off track?”

“No. It has nothing to do with our work.”

Still smiling, Han Roun tilted his head and stepped down on the head of a failed creation crawling on the floor.

Crunch.

Its skull burst, sticky blood spilling out.

Yurian frowned, but Han Roun’s face was as indifferent as ever, utterly accustomed.

Han Roun fixed his gaze on Yurian, who refused to look at the specimen.

As if he had already sensed the unease sparked by his phone call, he changed the subject.

“I heard some of it. You said there’s good news?”

“The core reacted. Just for a moment, but it linked with a master.”

Yurian clenched his fist tight.

He could not hide the joy of success at last.

Han Roun nodded slowly as he watched him.

Chrrrr—

At that nod, ninety-eight cores rose into the air like stars, encircling Han Roun and Yurian.

Yurian’s eyes shone as he took them in one by one.

'The new Tower’s cores.'

They were the databases for the new Tower’s floors.

At first glance, nearly complete. But a Tower could not be realized by data alone.

They required an administrator-like entity who could summon, modify, and manipulate the cores.

This was what they had long called the “master.”

What Gnosis had been experimenting on all this time was the creation of cores, and the artificial linking of cores with a master.

After endless research, they had managed to artificially craft cores and build pocket dimensions resembling dungeons—but that was all.

Humans could not become the Tower’s master.

Thus, Gnosis had repeated experiment after experiment, pushing humans beyond their limits to make them into masters.

Even so, they had been at an impasse—until a small item created by a Korean genius shifted the tide.

Yurian opened his hand, revealing the Cretaeto Reactor.

The explosive mana surge generated in the instant of its reaction had, for one fleeting moment, made the impossible possible.

Now they would become beings beyond human.

Masters of a new world.

Yurian’s face brimmed openly with anticipation.

The reasons people joined Gnosis were varied.

Some for money, some to fulfill intellectual desire.

But Yurian had only one reason.

'I will be reborn as the master of a new world.'

Han Roun stared at the gap in the array of cores, then tilted his head, locking eyes with Yurian.

[“What.”]

[“The paperwork’s all done. You have to complete compulsory education.”]

Was this really the time to talk about school?

Yurian sighed irritably and turned his head. He could never guess what his master was thinking.

[“Was that what the call was about?”]

To send him to school?

But instead of answering, Han Roun asked lazily:

[“By the way, Yurian. Where’s Dominic?”]

[“Don’t know. That clown’s probably off somewhere fooling around.”]

[“There you go again.”]

Han Roun brushed Yurian’s hair back with a gentle smile.

[“Find Dominic. For now, he needs to become the master of the 99th floor.”]

The master of the 99th floor was practically the master of the Tower itself.

With their research still incomplete, Dominic, as an SSS-Class, had to serve as its pillar.

Yurian sighed again and waved his hand dismissively.

Without him, the plan wouldn’t progress smoothly. He would have to comply.

[“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go look.”]

As Yurian turned to leave, Han Roun hid his expression smoothly—but his hand clenched around the phone.

Reiji had completed his last contract and surrendered.

To say he wasn’t surprised would have been a lie, but then, there were few as unpredictable as Reiji.

At least the job had been done successfully—that was some relief.

Reiji had delivered the report of success casually, leaving his client, Han Roun, with one last message.

[- More interesting than that, I heard something. A rumor that she had a child.]

The voice carved itself into his mind like a brand.

'A child?'

But Han Roun soon gave a derisive laugh.

He knew clearly.

She hadn’t wanted children.

She had said if she ever had one, she’d erase it without hesitation.

And Chloe Han was not someone to speak nonsense.

So he knew it was impossible.

Yet...

Even knowing that expectation always betrayed him.

Why did he still end up expecting?

At that moment, Han Roun’s eyes burned a coral red as a system window opened.

[A Title is activating.]

The title floated before him.

And with it, his heart went frighteningly calm.

As if the heat blazing within had frozen solid in an instant.

***

Chapter: The Children’s Unauthorized Raiders

The ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) Thinking Chair hurt her butt.

That was what Guru thought, sitting in the chair for the first time in her life.

Perched on an adult’s chair shoved against the study wall, she wriggled her hips and pressed her back to the edge of the seat. Her legs were so short her knees stuck up, stretched straight out on the chair.

At her sudden fidgeting, Mephisto, dozing off on her head, gave a start and fluttered into the air.

“Mepiii, no sweepin’. We gotta wefwect.”

Guru whispered sternly.

“Ppiii...”

Mephisto poked his beak in a pout, then settled back atop her head, full of sulky complaint as if insisting he’d done nothing wrong.

Jurim had left her there with instructions to sit quietly and reflect, while he spoke with Yeongran, the housekeeper, in the living room.

In truth, it was less a conversation than Yeongran worrying aloud while Jurim sat in a daze.

Guru narrowed her eyes.

'Someding’s off with Daddychann.'

Since the Bureau incident, Jurim had seemed lost in thought.

He hadn’t answered her calls for a long while, and had even contacted Yoon Seojun to ask him for a favor.

Why would he do that?

'Maybe cuz Gwuu did weawwy bad ting dis time...'

Sulky, mouth drooping, Guru peeked through the half-open door, kicking her ankles while pretending to reflect.

'Gwuu’s fauwt...'

She recalled running around the Bureau clutching the ticking bomb.

'Dat was fun...'

She could almost hear the ticking in her ears again, her heart pounding.

Sweaty-palmed tension and dopamine!

'Gwuu wanna do it again...'

Her mouth hung open in a silly grin—then she shook her head hard.

'Nooo! No fun! Gwuu must wefwect, wefwect...'

But thoughts trailed one after another.

'Biwth of staws... Big Bang... chicken and egg... two chickies and Mephisto...'

Soon, her little head was awash in chaos.

And at the end of it—

'Gwuu must make new item!'

—an utterly groundless resolution.