Santa Meta.
Like Santa Claus, who gives presents to good children and nothing to the bad ones, I’ll be subtly sprinkling awakeners.
Is it simply because there aren’t enough Hunters?
We had a million awakenings not long ago, and yet… do we still need to increase the number of Hunters?
Yes, we do.
Because Hunters are disappearing faster than new ones can be added.
“So, the number of ‘non-Hunters’—those who’ve awakened but don’t actually climb the Tower—is increasing.”
What is a Hunter?
A hunter is someone who hunts.
The prey is the beasts within the Towers.
The summoning ability is the Hunter’s poacher’s rifle.
But if they don’t go to hunt those beasts, and don’t even enter the Towers, then they’re just someone with a rifle sitting at home.
That naturally breeds unease.
If you don’t know, you might just ignore it. But if you knew your upstairs neighbor, the one causing all the noise, had a poacher’s rifle, would you be able to knock on their door?
Even the police would need to show up fully armed.
Unless, of course, the police are Hunters themselves.
And beyond what’s happening on the ground, even in the skies, we need as many Hunters as possible.
“Just because of Babel alone, I think it’s best if the number of Hunters increases.”
Babel is dangerous.
I did manage to clear it, but the next attempt won’t be easy.
So even one more ally from our Earth going up to Babel would be a great help to us.
While I’m taking on the boss, that comrade can deal with the Ironblood up there.
And even if the roles were reversed, that would be fine.
Someday, Babel will disappear.
Because I’ll keep clearing it.
But Babel aside… what about the Towers?
“Master. An A-rank Tower just appeared in Samcheok, Gangwon-do.”
“Again?”
Just like the report Elaine brought, the Towers are continuously appearing in real-time.
“So I guess we really do have to view Babel and the Towers as separate phenomena?”
The East Asian skies are clear and blue.
I thought the Towers in East Asia would stop appearing once Babel was conquered—but they keep sprouting up, like mold.
“If we consider Babel to be an SS-rank Tower, then I suppose we should see this as an independent phenomenon?”
“Then if we clear all the Towers in the world, maybe they’ll all disappear? Haha.”
“That’s probably the most likely outcome.”
So how can we ensure the Towers never appear again?
Humanity has formed one hypothesis.
‘Wipe out every Tower in the world so not a single one remains.’
No matter if it’s an S-rank or F-rank, every Tower must be cleared?
It’s not an impossible task.
If enough Hunters appear worldwide, it’s doable.
If everyone agreed to clear their assigned Towers within an hour, and all Hunters entered a Tower suited to their ability, defeated the boss, and exited…
Even if new Towers appeared, we could instantly dispatch teams to handle them.
If we have the numbers.
And if both the quantity and quality of Hunters increase, then it’s a manageable goal.
But that doesn’t mean we can just recklessly increase the number of Hunters.
“Elaine. If all the Towers disappear, will summoning abilities remain with humans… or will they vanish too?”
“…”
A world after the Towers are gone.
If there’s nothing left for Hunters to hunt, then… who becomes the next target?
“I’m serious.”
“I don’t know. Isn’t that something only Alice would know?”
“True. But she doesn’t know either.”
The control AI, Alice, gives no answer.
It’s not because she lacks authorization—it’s because even she doesn’t know.
“Honestly, maybe the best thing would be for humanity to go back to a world without Towers.”
“Master… that’s…”
“The world’s become completely upside-down because of Towers and Hunters. So many villains. People like the Ironblood too…”
So.
We must prepare in advance.
“If all the Towers disappear, then all Awakened abilities disappear too.”
“…”
“Even if that happens—even if all abilities vanish—I’ll still clear every last Tower.”
“…”
Even if everything disappears, I won’t stop moving forward.
“Does that upset you?”
“Not at all.”
Elaine softly shook her head with a faint smile.
“That’s exactly why I trust and follow you, Master. And you never know… Even if everyone else loses their abilities after conquering Babel, maybe you alone will be able to retain yours.”
“Yeah… that’d be a nice kind of miracle.”
They say we don’t need to worry too much about the future, but at the very least, we should be mentally prepared.
“As Santa, let’s take a look at who’s getting presents this year. So… hmm?”
[Hey, Commander. Can you hear me?]
An unexpected call from Drei.
Surprisingly, it didn’t come through the terminal—it came through an electronic signal.
[Something important came up for a moment.]
“Something important?”
[Yeah. Well… it’s not bad, exactly, but it’s… unsettling.]
“??”
[That thing we were worried about finally happened, and it’s just… how do I put it…]
“Wait, did the Chinese government start taking servers or something?”
[Close. But from our team’s perspective, it’s not really a bad thing.]
“…??”
What is she talking about?
“You mean China is cracking down on game companies now?”
[Yeah, it’s censorship… but it’s more like, they’re trying to censor while keeping the Master in mind.]
“…What on earth?”
[Could it be—]
Drei spoke cautiously.
[Have you ever heard of You-nam-bul-wan?]
* * *
Shanghai.
Far from Beijing, the capital of China, in one of this city’s ultra-luxury hotels, a large number of people had been invited to sit at round tables.
Hundreds gathered, and most of them were men.
Unkempt hair, bulky builds, forward-jutting necks, the look of people who don’t manage their bodies well—classic developer types.
To anyone watching, it looked like some kind of gaming forum event.
But this was actually an official gathering hosted and supervised directly by the Chinese government—no, by the Party itself.
“Director entering the room.”
At those words from a man dressed in a military uniform resembling the old-style Mao suit, a dignified middle-aged man stepped onto the stage and took the mic.
“Ahem, ahem.”
His gaze swept across the attendees at every table.
His expression was somewhat displeased, yet there was also a kind of resigned acceptance—as if convincing himself that this was the only way.
Then he gripped the microphone and spoke.
“Who are the four greatest beauties of China, known around the world?”
Ears perked up at the first sentence. Most of the attendees were wearing checkered shirts.
“Xi Shi, Wang Zhaojun, Diao Chan, Yang Guifei. These are the four women most people mention first. ‘Fish sink, geese fall, the moon hides, and flowers blush.’ Of course, some may substitute Yu Ji for Diao Chan. But look here.”
The director pointed to the massive screen displaying a PowerPoint slide.
There were four old-style portraits of these historic beauties, painted in a traditional aesthetic.
Many attendees shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
“Any of you thinking, ‘Are they forcing us to model our in-game characters after women like this?’”
Faces froze.
Some felt like their thoughts had been exposed.
Some were shocked the director would say it out loud.
“A year ago, maybe that would’ve been the case. But now that the Master exists, that’s no longer acceptable.”
Snap.
With a snap of his fingers, four new images appeared—photos, source unknown.
“From now on, these are China’s new four great beauties.”
“Khmm.”
“Khehmm.”
The screen displayed character illustrations in an art style that was immediately familiar to all the developers in the room: anime-inspired “moe” girls.
Based on the photos, someone had redrawn them into idealized, youthful girl characters in a popular style.
“Maid. Neko. Hacker. Battleship AI.”
“…”
“Do you know what these four have in common? You there, the ‘father’ of the hacker character—go ahead.”
The director pointed out a burly man with a mohawk seated at the front table. The man slowly stood.
“…This might be the answer you’re expecting, Director. But honestly, it’s an answer every gamer here would agree with. To put it simply…”
He gave a small preamble and continued.
“They’re ‘moe’ girls that otakus love.”
The director nodded.
“…But there’s nothing Chinese about them. So—”
“Exactly why we’re having this conversation.”
Snap.
Once again, the screen exploded with a flood of character illustrations.
“Gasp…!”
“These are the characters you’ve developed or are developing. Submitted for review to receive publishing licenses. The higher-ups have only two demands.”
With another snap, a character in a cheongsam appeared on the screen.
“First, they must wear a cheongsam. Be it a skin or the main outfit. And second…”
The cheongsam in question was revealing, sexualized to the point of being embarrassing. Still, the director pressed on with unwavering conviction.
“They must be able to ride a unicorn—and they must be untouchable, pure beings untouched by any man.”
“!!!”
Unicorn.
Of course, every developer present knew what that meant.
“Excuse me.”
A developer who wasn’t wearing checkered flannel but instead dressed in luxury brands raised his voice.
“Will that… sell?”
“…”
Click.
The director made a hand gesture, and uniformed officers immediately dragged the man out.
“Begin production. Just one character in your game is enough. More is better. You can even base the game world on reality, just reimagine it as a dungeon instead of a Tower.”
This was Shanghai, China.
“Develop them.”
A place where failing to obey orders… might make you disappear.
“Someone the Master would be able to summon.”
* * *
“So basically…”
[Every Chinese game company is now developing over-the-top harem games for otakus.]
“…”
[With only female characters.]
Hmm.
“…China?”
