“No, no, no, no! It’s too unfair!” Hamustra flapped his sleeves like a butterfly. “I object! I firmly object! If Kim Yul leaves, who will take care of the books? I’m going too! I’ll go, no matter the cost!”
“My god! Mr. Librarian is flapping!”
“Move aside! I’m getting the front-row shot this time!”
Around Hamustra, his stalkers—the Assistant Writer and his followers that had come down from the fiftieth floor—were having the time of their lives. What a mess.
Adding to the chaos, the Medicine King, the manager of Cafe Planetarium, bellowed, “If you’re going to make a scene, do it outside! You’re disrupting the business!”
“Sorry...”
“This is the problem with young people nowadays. Ugh! Why are they so much like me when I was young?” the Medicine King grumbled, shaking his head.
“But I’ve told you this many times. There isn’t a single person here younger than you. Isn’t it about time you remember that?”
Hamustra’s stalkers began glaring and growling at the Medicine King. This was now a daily routine here.
Hamustra pushed his stalkers aside and gave me a plaintive gaze. “Look. Look at this pathetic mass in front of you. Do you see what you’ve done to me?”
“Strictly speaking, you brought that upon yourself,” I replied with a carefree shrug.
Hamustra was one of the few people I treated casually. I felt like it would be unpleasant to be treated like Yoo Soo-Ha, but Hamustra seemed to have already calmed down.
Avoiding my gaze, he grumbled, “Hmm. Well, that may be true. But even so, taking Kim Yul away is…”
“Don’t worry.” I stirred Hamustra’s frappuccino and handed it to him. “You don’t really want to use Mr. Kim Yul as a librarian, do you? You just want to be with him.”
“Well, yes, but... Hmm... Ah, I see. I see. Why don’t you take me as one of your ga—”
“No, I won’t.”
I chose not to bring Raviel here in the fear of turning the flowers into mere exhibits, so I would never let this voyeur into my garden.
“Then?”
“I’m planning to build a path to my holy ground in this library.”
I briefly described the layout I had in mind.
As a high-level Constellation who had spent some time managing the Tower’s floors, Hamustra understood me quickly. “So, you want to use this place as a cafeteria?”
“A lounge, to be more precise.”
It was like constructing a small building. Within that building, my holy ground would be a roof garden. The twentieth floor was under my control, as well as the paradise where Estelle used to live and the twenty-second floor where Teacher’s grave was. These floors would be under the roof, like a Tower within the Tower. Like that, Cafe Planetarium, where Hamustra lived, would serve as a lounge where gardeners and guests could rest.
“Hmm… Well, if that’s what you’re planning, I suppose I’ll get to see him once a day.”
“Yes. Not bad, right?” I asked.
“I would be lying if I said I don’t have any complaints, but… Okay.”
Hamustra looked at my fox god around my neck with slight jealousy before sighing. He sipped on the cappuccino I had handed him. “Why do you climb the Tower? Honestly, I’ve been asking myself this since I heard you reached the eightieth floor. Gong-Ja, you’ve proven everything you have set out to prove. You became a complete Constellation and fixed nearly every fault in your world’s Tower.”
Hamustra rested his chin in his palm and stared at me.
“Do you know what Constellations that reach that level usually do?”
“They stop taking challenges?” I speculated.
“That’s right. From that point on, they focus on gathering followers, cultivating their divine power, and collecting items. If they spot another world that looks easy to plunder, they might go for a raid.” Hamustra stirred his frappuccino with the straw. “Only those who feel there’s nothing more to do or who are tired of renting start building their own homes, their holy ground. That’s how they rise from the eighty-first to the ninetieth floors.”
“I see.”
“That’s the difference between high-level and ordinary Constellations. That’s all there is to it. … But we don’t need to have a home to live, right?”
Hamustra’s followers and the Medicine King kept arguing. After stealing a quick glance in their direction, Hamustra then looked back at me.
“Even if you spent twenty million years in sweatpants, dipping fries into milkshakes and licking your fingers afterward, no one would have said a word. But you continued challenging the Tower. I heard that you nearly died—no, nearly faced a fate worse than death because of it. Is it worth the risk?”
Perhaps that question was to be expected.
“Are you doing this to become a Pillar?” Hamustra asked.
I frowned. “Who told you that?”
“I still have many strings left, so I hear news floating around. It’s bothersome, but… Anyway, is that why? Or is there something else?”
Hamustra didn’t ask whether I was doing this for the Tower master.
I said, “In your eyes, wouldn’t it be more strange for me not to climb the Tower?”
“As a fan, it’s better for you to climb the Tower, but reality is different,” Hamustra answered calmly, cupping his cheeks. “Hmm. Of course, if you were to say, ‘I’m doing this to make you, my fan, happy. That’s why I’ve decided to climb the Tower!’ Then I would immediately die from happiness.”
“I promised someone.”
Hamustra fell silent.
I added, “I promised someone to climb the Tower. Since you read my book, you should know to whom I made the promise.”
I stood up. Hamustra stared at me, then behind me, his gaze fixed on a man he would never be able to see but who was clearly beside me.
“I see,” Hamustra murmured. “That’s what it was.”
I turned away. My belt, now without Hwia, held only the dagger I’d always carried. This left me feeling empty yet oddly free.
“Now, shall we go?” I asked.
The man, who had taught me swordsmanship since I had been carrying only this dagger wrapped in duct tape, replied to me.
—Yeah. Let’s go.
The next floor was the ninetieth. Ten floors remained until the top, and nine floors were left until the floor where the Sword Emperor had stopped.
✦ ✦ ✦
1. More like a father figure. ☜
✦ ✦ ✦
Translator's Thoughts