At the top of the towering Peace Guild HQ, the lights on the highest floor flickered .
Inside a sleek office lined with glass and steel, Ryu Gaon, Guild Master of the Peace Guild, sat at his desk.
He wasn't calm.
His eyes were wide.
Hands trembling.
On his laptop screen: live footage of the battlefield, now replaying on every network in the country.
And there—center frame—stood Han Soo-yeon, the manic reporter wielding a rusted kitchen knife.
A knife that had just torn a dimensional portal in half.
Ryu Gaon slammed the laptop shut and stood up, scattering piles of reports and training schedules across the floor.
His bandaged head throbbed with frustration.
"Damn it! Again?!"
He paced the room, rage bubbling beneath the surface.
"Was it really her? Did she... Did she kill the First Floor Boss?!No she was with me when it happen."
Across the room stood a woman in a sharp suit, violet hair tied in a perfect bun, holding a digital clipboard.
Min Seo-ah, his personal secretary.
She raised her eyes calmly, then spoke in a flat tone:
"Sir... The Constellation of Halion, Sovereign of Balance and Unyielding Order, has just issued a directive through your system."
A glowing system interface burst into view in front of Ryu Gaon.
Lines of gold script began typing themselves across the translucent screen.
▸ Request: Recovery of anomalous weapon – Status: Urgent
▸ Entity wielding object may be unregistered divine avatar or latent vessel.
▸ Possibility of unauthorized interference: 87%.
▸ Action Required: Secure and Submit – Failing this will compromise contract integrity.
Ryu's face paled.
"I understand. I'll get it. I'll get it for you."
The screen flickered and vanished.
Min Seo-ah tilted her head.
"Did something happen, Sir Ryu?"
Gaon turned to her, voice low and urgent.
"Tell Jin Tae-woon to retrieve that knife immediately. Or recruit the girl if necessary."
"Understood."
"If we fail..." he muttered, rubbing his temples, "my father won't let me live."
Seo-ah nodded once, spun on her heel, and walked briskly toward the elevator.
"Yes, Sir."
Behind her, Ryu Gaon stared out the window at the flickering sky above Seoul.
A storm was forming.
Not from monsters.
But from gods.
Meanwhile Somewhere deep within the Tower, far beyond any floor cleared by humanity, sat a grand, circular chamber carved from celestial marble and temporal stone.
At its center was a massive, glowing round table, engraved with an intricate pocket watch design. Time was meaningless here. And yet... something about that ticking symbol made them uneasy.
Ten chairs surrounded the table.
And in them sat the Guides of the Tower—keepers of the law, watchers of balance, enforcers of the impossible.
They were not human.
One looked like a lion in a suit, mane braided with golden thread.
One was a bull-headed giant with diamond horns and cufflinks.
Another was a humanoid octopus, tentacles braided into a neat business bun.
A floating eyeball in a bowtie bobbed silently in the air.
There was even a being shaped like a melting candle—fire flickering where its mouth should be.
And of course...
Mr. Cat, short, black-furred, bespectacled, currently sweating bullets.
They all sat in silence, staring at each other, waiting.
Until finally—
"Ahem."
All heads turned.
Mr. Wolf—a tall, sleek creature in a gray three-piece suit, brown fur brushed to a shine, yellow eyes behind square glasses—cleared his throat and spoke calmly.
"Now, now. Let's not panic. Let's be grateful, yes? After all... isn't this what we wanted? For the humans to climb the tower eventually? Let's not blame this on Mr. Cat."
He adjusted his tie with a smile.
The room filled with glares.
Then—
"What a shitty joke, doggy," rumbled the lion in a velvet blazer, tail twitching as he crossed his legs. "You think the Head will smile when he hears that the boss of the first floor escaped?!"
Mr. Wolf's ears flattened.
"Don't call me doggy, you pussy cat."
The lion raised a brow, smirking.
"Aww, what's wrong, need a bone? Want me to throw a stick and watch you fetch it for the council?"
The two stood simultaneously, eyes locked, growling.
The octopus pinched the bridge of her nose with two tentacles.
"Here we go..."
"Guys," said a small, guilty voice.
All heads turned to Mr. Cat, who raised his tiny paw. He looked miserable.
"Let's not fight. I—I'll take the blame. I left him on the first floor. I didn't think he'd break the system. I—I mean, he was just lying there for thousands of years, you know? Sleeping. Eating birds. I thought he was bored..."
A pause.
Then, in perfect unison:
"YOU STUPID CAT!"
Mr. Cat flinched like he'd been smacked.
"Damn, not even a little compassion?" he whimpered.
But before he could keep sulking, his body began to glow.
A beam of divine light surrounded him, shimmering with runes and command seals.
"Ah—oh no. No no no no—"
He knew what it was.
A summon.
From the Head.
The other Guides immediately grinned and waved goodbye like schoolkids watching someone get called to the principal's office.
"Bye now!" chirped the octopus-woman, waving two arms and three tentacles.
"Have fun with divine punishment!"
"Send a postcard!" the eyeball said through telepathy.
"Take responsibility, idiot!" barked the bull.
Mr. Cat clenched his paws, ears flattening as the glow consumed him.
And then, with a final sigh—
He vanished.
Somewhere above even this chamber, in a realm beyond time, the true master of the Tower awaited him.
And Mr. Cat knew:
This was going to hurt.