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In a blue challenger\'s room—the size of a large studio—"borrowed" to one of his followers, Kai, an averaged size overweight man with Asian facial traits, was sitting at his desk, staring at maps of the second, third, fourth and fifth floors.

He rubbed his chubby thumb and index together while examining the maps. It was a habit gained after counting money. With time, this habit became a tic when thinking, calculating his next move.

Each map was segmented into sections. The second-floor map had particularly a lot of them, majorly illustrating the five districts. Miniature squares with numbers symbolizing every shop could be seen. A rectangle area on the side, the map\'s key, contained brief information on each location.

Red lines depicted the major streets, occupied by more challengers during rush hours, meaning at the start of the day and end of the day.

What buggered him the most was the lack of a real clock. The gods had provided the challengers with some kind of internal clock, allowing them to feel the end or beginning of a day. Though the feeling was subtle. So subtle that most challengers weren\'t even aware of it, thinking it was natural to know the CDs period.

Another way to know the time was to either ask a moderator, shop owner or simply pay attention to the overall behavior of the crowd, which most people did.

Kai\'s dark iris was set on the map of the third floor, where small purple and black dots were located. The moderator and black challenger. He cared little about the moderator. To him, they were nothing less than simple workers. They usually were passive as long as rules were respected. Though, he had never tried to break them "openly" until today.

Kai had purposely sent Sam to harm the black challenger in front of Gwen for that reason, but also another. The baldy, blinded by revenge and his fealty to the sect, had accepted without batting an eye. As expected, the results were negative, but not fruitless.

His report was interesting because of a single fact, Sam had made it back in one piece. Taking that into account, plus the few other information partaking in a show of force from the moderators, he concluded they would or could never kill a challenger. That could be a hole in the security he could eventually exploit if needed.

\'As for the black challenger,\' he thought, eyeing the black dot. \'He may just be the real deal. May, but uncertain.\'

Like everyone else, Kai had heard of the exploit of past black challengers who were able to clear the eighth floor from his guide. Even some shop owners talked about them, more because they were supposed to be good customers than anything else.

Those greedy workers were probably here for the soul cores found on the other floors that could be sold for TPs at what Kai expected to be an unfair price. Probably why some of them came into the Tower.

Apart from soul cores, he couldn\'t really see any other motivations. After all, TPs could only be used in the Tower, so it was pointless to keep them outside. To his knowledge, they couldn\'t be exchanged for whatever currency was used in Iris.

\'Hum, I\'ll gather info on that later.\' He thought, writing on a small notebook made of light brown paper. \'Now, what to do with the black challenger?\'

He had previously sent his most loyal "employee" to test the terrain, knowing fully that Sam wasn\'t the most diplomate of men and could certainly provoke a fight.

If the black challenger had died or accepted to meet him, Kai would have been severely disappointed, since it meant he was easily influenced, in other words, a pushover.

Kai already had hundreds of pushovers under his command. A bunch of lost sheep who couldn\'t walk their own road in times of need.

It had been so easy to gather followers. Under the influence of confusion and despair, people were willing to follow someone who "seemed" to be a good leader. He rounded his first followers this way. A magnificent speech, peppered with charisma, an amuse-bouche of what they would get and voilà!

Their wills had already been fragmented by their revivals, making it even easier for him to influence them the way he needed.

In dark, confusing times, people usually searched for somewhere to belong, especially on foreign soil. Thus, he provided them with a group that soon turned into a real community, a sect he had named "Chosen."

A particularly meaningful name, considering their situation. Revived by gods. Presented with supernatural abilities upon completion of their trial or even before for the few with Gifts. And, also chosen by him.

He had gained their trust bit by bit after piling success after success against other leaders of the white trial. Using his calculative mind, he had brought other leaders to their knees in a matter of less than a month and monopolized the resources available.

Using the monopole, he "persuaded" them to obey him by using various means but not forced, not entirely at least.

One of them was a simple brainwashing technique. Each meal would be served under his name, as a true blessing, causing people who had mixed feeling about Kai to slowly come to accept him. It also deepened the loyalty of his other followers.

Of course, with only two months, he hadn\'t been able to convince them all. More than half of the remaining challengers reclaimed their freedom upon entering the Tower. No matter, he had several hundred under his command, anyway.

What mattered now was to clear the Tower and obtain the coveted reward awaiting those who did—although he didn\'t know what was past the eighth floor, yet. Nobody really knew, but Kai intended to get his hand on the reward, since it could only be exceptional.

However, he wasn\'t a man of action. He could lead people from behind, not the front. Kai knew himself. He was shrewd, smart, could manipulate people to do his bidding. But when it came to actual fighting, which he supposed the fourth to tenth floors were filled with, he probably wouldn\'t be able to come back alive. He did not want to risk his new life.

That\'s why he needed a leader, a manager his other employees could follow to victory. Sam was…

\'Too dumb. A good loyal employee, but a leader? No. At best, he is a good warrior.\' He thought. \'The others also can\'t fit the bill.\'

They were all currently stuck on the fifth floor despite the fact that he was pouring a portion of the soul cores provided by other, less important employees into his managers. Hoping they would gain more strength.

But when Sam, a level 2 warrior class…

\'What was it again?\' Kai thought, browsing through his employees\' sheets. Managing hundreds of people was hard. Even more, since he hadn\'t earthly modern means at his disposal.

And Sam had recently leveled up, so there were some changes to his sheet the baldy had made a few hours ago after recovering from his injuries using recovery beads.

\'Found it,\' he thought, taking out a sheet from his pile.

____________________________

[Sam Ford]

[I. General Info]

Death: March 22nd, 2030

Species: Human

Sex: Male

Age: 35

Height: 175cm

Weight: 73kgs

Emotional state (at the time it was written): Angry

Class: Lv2 Swordsman

Titles: White Challenger, Talkative Baldy

[II. Attributes]

1. Gifts:

- Body Blessed (Permanently increases Body by one level)

2. Skills:

Passive:

- Sword mastery Lv2

Active:

- Durability Lv1

- Power Slash Lv1 (A powerful downward slash)

[III. Basic stats]

- Strength: Lv2

- Body: Lv2

- Stamina: Lv2

- Agility: Lv1

- Mana: Lv3

- Destiny: Lv1 (cannot level up with Glory Points)