Samsara Tower: Only I Know the Plot!

After hearing Adam’s words, the gathered Samsaras finally understood his plan.

What had originally been promised as free special items now came with a price tag. Adam expected them to pay Samsara points in exchange.

The Samsaras glanced at each other in silence.

Truthfully, Adam’s demand wasn’t excessive. The operation had failed, his losses had been immense, and everyone had witnessed it. If they were in his position, they might not even be willing to part with the items at all.

One of them finally asked, ”Mr. Adam, then… how many Samsara points are you asking for these items?”

Adam produced a stack of papers with a magician’s flourish. Clearly, he had prepared this long ago.

”The exact redemption prices are all here.”

He tossed the papers out casually. ”I assure you, the prices are cheap. You won’t find special items at a lower cost anywhere else.”

The Samsaras snatched up the sheets and skimmed them. Immediately, their expressions soured.

The prices weren’t outrageous—on the contrary, they were fair. At any other time, they might have been overjoyed to buy rare items so cheaply.

But this wasn’t about the price.

They had been told—promised—that their efforts would earn them rewards. Now those rewards required payment, and no matter how low the cost, it left a bitter taste.

And the more they thought about Adam’s neatly prepared price list, the more they doubted his intentions. Perhaps from the very beginning, he had never planned to hand out items freely. The entire operation—start to finish—had been Adam’s scheme: use them as pawns, weaken Jadeveil Nation’s Samsaras, then turn around and sell off surplus items for profit.

Killing two birds with one stone.

As this realization sank in, their gazes toward Adam carried not only resentment, but also a grudging awe.

It was no wonder he was the first to break through S-rank. His mind and strategy were on a different level altogether.

As a scholar would say—this was a man with deep scheming.

—---

Samsara Space, Teahouse Box

”By the way, Fenric,” Aurora asked as she set down her cup, ”are you going to attempt the seventeenth-floor dungeon tonight?”

Fenric nodded, his expression tightening. ”Aurora, I was just about to ask you—what exactly is going on with that seventeenth-floor copy?”

He had skimmed online discussions before coming. All he found was that the floor was a large-scale dungeon called The Demon of the Heart.

But what world was it from? He couldn’t tell. In his previous life, plenty of films had carried that name, and none seemed to match. Stranger still, there were no clear strategies online.

Aurora gave a faint smile. ”You must be wondering why there are no guides anywhere.”

Fenric nodded.

”That’s because, in this dungeon, the role you play is… yourself. Or rather, yourself in another world.”

”Myself in another world?” Fenric frowned, confused.

”Think of it as a parallel world—but one suffused with supernatural power.” Her expression grew serious. ”After entering, your role will be your alternate self. The task is usually to fulfill your other self’s deepest dream, or resolve some lingering obsession.”

Fenric leaned forward slightly.

”These missions may seem simple for you now,” Aurora continued, her tone darkening, ”but there’s something you must understand. In that world lurks an indescribable horror. Complete the task and leave. Do not explore. Curiosity there is fatal.”

Fenric’s eyes widened. ”Indescribable horror?”

His mind leapt immediately to one thought—Cthulhu Mythos?

[1]

Aurora’s expression hardened. ”Exactly. Even with your current strength, if you stumble across one of those beings… it will be dangerous. Beyond dangerous.”

Fenric’s brows furrowed. He had heard of the mythos in his past life, though only vaguely. He knew enough to understand the danger—the mere names of such beings carried madness.

”Then why is there no strategy posted online?” he asked.

Aurora’s lips tightened. ”Because of their power. Even in this world, to speak their true names risks madness. People who tried posting guides ended up… unstable. Eventually, under orders from above, all strategies for this dungeon were purged.”

Her tone softened slightly. ”Fenric, remember what I said. Do not pry too deeply. After you return, I’ll explain more in detail.”

Fenric nodded solemnly. ”I understand.”

Aurora glanced at the time—it was already half past midnight. She rose. ”Then I won’t disturb you. Good luck with the run.”

Fenric stood as well, ready to see her off.

She walked a few steps, then suddenly turned back with a mischievous smile. ”By the way, Fenric—with your relationship to Yuhan… shouldn’t you be calling me sister? Come on, let me hear it.”

Fenric blinked, stunned, then rolled his eyes.

He hadn’t expected Vivienne Song, who usually acted so composed, to tease him like this.

Aurora laughed, thoroughly entertained, and left with a satisfied grin.

Fenric sat back down, his thoughts turning heavy once more.

The mythos of Cthulhu…

Even with his sharp memory, what he recalled was fragmentary—only whispers of unspeakable gods, whose very existence warped sanity.