I splash water over my face.

It feels unbelievably refreshing. The last time I had anything close to a proper bath was days ago. And even then, scrubbing with a rock while splashing myself with cold water barely counts. But it's as good as it gets. Soap, shampoo, a heated shower—those only exist in my fantasies now.

I hold my gauntlets in my hands, scrubbing my forearms and arms while keeping them close. I don't let them out of sight. Honestly, I really, really like them.

The moment plays back in my mind—the fall from the giant crab as it disintegrated. I'd landed on a red orb, which immediately absorbed into me. It restored my body to perfect condition, granted me a 0.300% stage progress boost—nearly as much as I'd earned from the 49 crabs—and, as if that wasn't enough, gifted me this incredible gear.

The more I inspect them, the more I like them.

For one, the weight and fit are perfect. No, beyond perfect—if that even makes sense. I suspect the weight might even scale with stage progress, just like my sword. And durability? Not a single scratch after the fight with the Climbers. For all I know, these gauntlets are indestructible.

Perfectly fitted, indestructible gauntlets. What more could I ask for?

But that's not even the best part.

It's their reaction to my mental waves. The conductivity is unreal, off the charts. They're at least twice as responsive as my sword. With the same waves, I can generate double the magnetic force on them. Double. Coupled with my steadily improving pulses, these things mean my strikes can now accelerate faster, provided I coordinate my arm and wave movements seamlessly.

And then there's the dream.

Flying. Countering my weight entirely using my waves.

With these, I'm closer than ever.

I paddle hard with my feet, pushing against the water, and channel my mental waves through the gauntlets. The combined force launches me out of the river in a burst of motion, landing on the riverbank where my clothes are laid out.

I grab a handful of broad palm leaves and dry myself off quickly before gearing back up.

My eyes fall on the mask, its broken state drawing a sigh from me. Without it, my max pulse intensity drops by a staggering 34%. I'll need to craft a new one on the way back.

As I give it another look, memories of the fight flood back. It felt much better than I want to admit. Outmaneuvering them with ease, fighting one on eight and still holding the upper hand, all while knowing Houston was employing Phase 2 in the background. Yeah, that felt really good.

Well, to be fair, my stage progress is much higher than theirs, and I had the gauntlets. But hey, Chiara gave me a beating when I first arrived at the Oasis under similar conditions. Let's see who's laughing now.

I hope the orbs I left behind give them a good boost. Would they get the gauntlets too? The thought makes me grin. The more the merrier. Maybe our next encounter won't be so one-sided.

I chuckle as I induce a magnetic polarity in my gauntlets, causing my sword to float in the air between them. The feeling is fantastic.

With a slight shift, I cancel the polarity in one gauntlet, letting the sword snap into my hand. I grip it tightly. Time to move.

I glance at the sun, gauging its position. I probably won't reach the new zone today.

The swamp it is, then. I'll camp there for the night. Oh, and I have to pick up my backpack on the way. Nearly forgot.

With that thought, I take off, pushing myself forward, laughter still lingering as the memory of the fight plays back in my mind.

I recline myself near a crooked tree. I've already taken out all the slimes—or whatever they are—in the surrounding area, so they won't appear again until tomorrow. I can sleep in peace.

"So, what are your thoughts on today's events, Houston?"

"Reckless and stupid," Houston's dry voice cuts into my head, sharp and unrelenting. The words sound as though he'd been holding them in all day… which, knowing him, he probably had.

"No risk, no reward," I grin.

"You're unbelievable," he snaps. "That wasn't risk. That was sheer lunacy. You nearly got yourself killed—multiple times! Do you even realize that?"

I shrug. "But I'm not, so—"

"Stop brushing this off, Alonso," Houston interrupts, his tone harsher than usual. "You think this is a game. It's not. Learn to value your life, or you won't make it far. And no amount of stage progress will mean a damn thing if you're dead."

I let the silence linger before I reply, my voice calm. "That's my way—to live and rise, dancing on the knife's edge. That's how I've made it this far, and it's how I'll keep going. So spare me the lectures, and let's move on."

Houston lets out a sigh, long and tired, as if there's nothing more to say.

"Do as you wish," Houston mutters after a pause, his tone resigned. He stays silent for a moment longer before speaking again, his tone shifting. "About those gauntlets—they're pretty good. The fact that The Tower is now gifting valuable gear on top of stage progress is definitely something to keep in mind."

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I clench my fists as I stare at the gauntlets. "Makes me wonder. This happened seven days after I—or rather, we all—arrived in this trial. It also happened in one of the zones. Could it happen again after another seven days, in a different zone?"

Houston is silent for a moment. "There's a high possibility, yes."

"So… considering The Tower's obsession with the number seven, there should be, what, seven zones and seven bosses. So… seven pieces of equipment?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves with assumptions. For now, we've explored and cleared five zones, and we've already caught sight of the sixth. Potentially, we should aim to max out on all zones before day 14 hits and prepare for the worst."

I nod. "So, any tips, advice, anything else?"

"Focus on hunting as you've been doing. Once you max out, I've got some ideas for training. Also, get used to the gauntlets and practice synchronizing your body movements with your wave manipulation. The more aligned they are, the better the output will be. I'll temporarily add this to the status screen to track your progress.

And… avoid overexerting yourself until you're fully accustomed to them. Even with your enhanced body, pulling in opposite directions during high-intensity combat under full Overdrive creates a 78.4% chance of tendon strain, a 42.8% chance of tearing, and, with compounded forces, a 65.8% probability of fracturing a bone, considering, for reference, a focused pulse output of 4.00 SU and an angular momentum of the arm of—"

"I think I got the idea, Houston. Thanks," I interrupt with a wry smile. I fall silent, my gaze fixed on the night sky. "What do you think the others will do now? Will they rebuild the camp in the same place?"

"Why not? But… I don't follow. Why does it matter?"

"Nothing. Just… thinking."

"Hmmm, thinking… You miss talking to people that much?"

I chuckle, the sound dry. "Me? Nah… I love suffering alone every day, playing with oversized creatures trying to kill me, eating whatever scraps I find, and then spending the night talking to a voice inside my head. It's perfect, really."

Houston lets out a heavy sigh. "Well, do what you want. I've already shared my thoughts on the matter long ago."

I stare at a single spot in the sky—a small star, faintly visible. The silence stretches as I let time pass.

"That thing Chiara said… about the possibility of all this being a grand simulation, and we're just copies of our real selves back on Earth… still living life, completely unaware of all of this… Do you think—"

"Does it change anything?" Houston cuts me off.

My mouth stays open for a moment longer. Then I slowly close it.

Indeed… it doesn't.

Chiara stared at the orbs, but her thoughts were far from them.

The rest of the group remained still, their eyes shifting toward her. None moved to greedily absorb the orbs. There were eight of them and only six on the ground, after all.

Were they waiting for her call? She sighed.

"Thanks, everyone," she said, brushing off her swirling thoughts. She spoke in English while simultaneously sending the Mandarin version to Ayu via mental waves. "I believe we need to decide who takes the orbs. We all know their value—and the responsibility they hold. To put it frankly… we don't even deserve them. They were gifted to us, whether we like it or not, by someone who earned them with his life on the line."

She paused, scanning their faces. Some nodded solemnly, others clenched their teeth, and a few looked down.

She continued, her tone steady but firm. "I think it's clear now—all we've done, all the training and pushing we thought was enough, amounts to nothing. We're weak. Pathetic. Alonso started with worse odds than any of us, arriving late to the Oasis, and a few weeks later, he's out there kicking the shit out of us in a one-on-eight. So, where does that leave us?"

Her voice grew sharper. "We call ourselves Climbers, but what the fuck are we climbing if not our own delusions? We're supposed to be the elite unit of the camp? We're clowns in the face of real strength. As we are now… we are nothing. I can say without a shred of doubt that our chances of reaching the peak of The Tower are zero."

Her teeth clenched, her voice trembling with restrained frustration and conviction. "I want you all to think. Are we doing enough? Are we putting our lives on the line? Ask yourselves, what makes Alonso different from us? Does he have some superpower? Is he an alien? No. He started the same as us. And now, look at the gap."

Her voice cracked with raw emotion as she pushed forward. "While we spend the night comfortably in a camp, where do you think he stays? In the swamp, surrounded by creatures we don't even dare to face. When we eat spiced food and laugh by the campfire, what do you think he does? He eats whatever he hunts, maybe cooked, maybe not, and he talks to no one but himself. While we wear tailored clothes and carry fancy tools, what does he have? Last time I saw him, he was in rags, fighting crabs with nothing but his sword. Everything he has, he achieved by himself."

Her hand tightened around her sword. "And us? We're still treating this like some adventure, clinging to comfort. But it's not. We're here representing mankind, carrying the hopes of our families, our friends—everyone we care about. We came here to climb this fucking alien tower. We came here to suffer, to fight, and to stay standing. So, tell me—are we doing enough!?"

They all remained silent. Chiara let the quiet stretch, giving her words time to sink in—not just for them but for herself as well.

She took a steadying breath and continued, her voice firm but measured.

"As for the orbs, anyone who wants to take one can. But let me make this clear—the orbs come with responsibility. Taking one means committing to something bigger than yourself. It means fighting day and night, pushing yourself to the edge, and facing whatever creatures this Tower throws at you. It means exploring new zones without hesitation, without fear. These orbs don't bring comfort—they bring risk. So, choose wisely."

Her gaze swept over the group, lingering on each of them in turn.

But before anyone could move, Rakesh stepped forward.

"I wanted to kill him. I still do," he admitted, his voice firm but heavy with burden. "But if I take an orb now, I know how this ends. I may gain confidence, try again, and I won't survive this time. The orb would be wasted on me. And… I was frozen at the start. Arjun, Ishaam, and then Wang—they stepped forward, but I did not. I… was afraid."

Rakesh then turned to Chiara. "I'll take my leave and regroup with the others. You can decide with the rest. Thank you for everything, Chiara."

With a deep bow, he walked away.

"Wait!" Ishaam suddenly shouted. He turned to face Chiara. "You six are stronger than me. I don't even have my sword anymore. I won't stop fighting, but… it makes no sense for me to take an orb. You six are the strongest we have. Grow stronger and… make it to the top."

Ishaam smiled faintly, though his knuckles were clenched. He then bowed to them. "Make Siddharth proud," he said, and followed Rakesh.

The remaining six watched the departing duo, then turned to one another. A heavy silence lingered between them.

Chiara scanned the remaining group, her gaze firm. "So… are you willing to do what it takes?"

For a brief moment, none moved. Then, one by one, they looked at her and nodded. Determination flickered in their eyes.

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