Quest Of Murder

[Yes, that is what you can achieve through the tower.]

[The Desirer's Summit will provide you with everything you need. All that matters is your talent, hard work, and determination. And even if you fail to reach the Moon, you will land among the stars.]

[The tower is home to many powerful people who seek comfort.]

'Can this guy shut the fuck up?' I massaged my temples as they throbbed with intense pain. The speech was so incredibly hypocritical and shitty, that even politicians would fail to replicate such a spectacle.

Who had written these scripts?

Suddenly, a man with crimson hair stepped forth. My vision swept across the crowd. The expressions of most participants were indifferent, but some seemed visibly excited, as if they couldn't wait to challenge the tower.

The man with crimson hair stood with elegance, upright and beaming with confidence. He wore a simple T-shirt and jeans, but there was a sword at his waist. With a glance, I could tell the sword was no joke.

A Descender.

The man's hair was neat, his face containing a hint of mischievousness. His body was the ideal shape, straight out of the men's physique division of the Olympia. I hated to admit it, but he was hot.

Hotter than me, it seemed.

Tsk.

"So, if the Desirer's Summit is so good, has anyone ever reached the top? Or even close to the top?" He asked. He probably already knew the answer, but was merely trying to annoy the djinn. I suppressed the urge to clap. "If so, wouldn't the reward be invalid? If not, isn't it practically impossible, then? Because, as you mentioned, many, many people have attempted this. So is there any point?"

[Um…]

"What about the Floor Of Balance?" I couldn't help but blurt out, causing the djinn's expression to sour even further. The crimson-haired man shook his head at my words, suppressing a chuckle. "Has any Mortal even reached the 90th Floor?"

[I–I'll get back to you on that.]

[For now, your task is to eliminate half the people here. Good luck.]

[If 100 people are not eliminated in the next 12 hours, all of you will die.]

At that moment, the djinn vanished into thin air, leaving behind many indignant participants. It took a few seconds for the djinn's words to settle in, and for the participants to realize the predicament they were in.

"D–Did he say… eliminate half the people here?"

"100 people? Just like that?"

Those who weren't Descenders, and were merely people who'd accidentally entered the tower's gateway, panicked. Most had never killed anyone before, and some despised the sight of blood. But pacifism in the Desirer's Summit was merely a deathwish.

As the Descenders released long sighs, they unsheathed their weapons.

A bloodbath was about to begin.

The first taste of blood.

The crimson-haired man and I subconsciously locked eyes. It seemed he wasn't willing to fight me at the moment… I didn't know why. However, since I didn't have any particular reason to pursue him, I didn't push it.

The man simply unsheathed his decorated blade, the sound of metal reverberating across the hall. 

At that moment, so did I.

I'd gone through several wars. Although I hadn't participated in a Great War, I still had enough experience to make my way through this. 

And I also had my first target.

"Y'know, I actually feared you…" I spoke, my words reflecting that of a 8-year-old boy, as I once was. My first encounter with Kyle was a horrifying one, with him 'taming' me as his pet. It was shameful.

But I was powerless. 

Insanity was something most feared, and I couldn't decipher Kyle's true thoughts. He tormented me when no one was around, yet acted like a model student before anyone else, framing me as the 'bad' kid.

He was the reason I turned out to be such a wuss.

And now, he'd be my stepping stool.

"...But somewhere along the way, that fear turned into hatred," I said. "And then that became killing intent. And by the time I came back, I couldn't suppress this one urge that kept gnawing at me."

Kyle's face was as white as paper. He seemed to have realized I would truly kill him here.

With not a sound escaping his cherry lips, he attempted to back away, planning to scram. But how could I possibly let him? I'd sworn to 'torment my tormenters' from the day I came back. There was no exception.

"The urge to kill all that had become roadblocks in my former life."

My goal was set.

The tip of my blade thrust forward, implanting itself into Kyle's shoulder. How could I let him die so easily? Since we had 12 hours, I could play it safe and still take a bit of time to myself. But then again, there was something that needed to be done.

I needed to kill 25+ people here, at the least.

Kyle's screams reverberated across the hall, but were drowned out by the countless others who suffered the same fate. One's pain couldn't outweigh another's when they were in the same situation.

I recalled my time here, when I barely survived due to a lack of drive in the participants.

They'd left the weak and pursued the stronger ones in the name of 'honor.'

But that was stupid.

There was no rule in the 'quest' we'd been given that stated one could only kill the strong people. The point of the 'quest' was to kill as many as possible while maintaining a population of 100 in a limited timeframe.

I took my sword, locking eyes with Kyle. The latter's eyes were bloodshot, either from the pain or the hatred he felt towards me. It felt like I was looking at an ant.

Perhaps this was how the Whisperer Star, Chiron, felt as he slaughtered everyone on the 51st Floor.

Perhaps these were the feelings he'd experienced.

But unlike that battle–in which we were merely pawns…

The boy before me was the cause of my pitiful life in the first round.

Slash!

A head fell to the ground, detached from its body.