Ha Hee-Jeong reassured me that she would head over first to make the necessary preparations, so I remained seated, turning the situation over in my head.

Ten minutes felt woefully insufficient to the heads of state of various nations. With the added difficulty of varied time zones, we were contacting them in the middle of the night. Also, in that short window, they would also need to summon their aides and attendants. Of course, they would be more than a little flustered—I hadn’t told them that I would be visiting them directly.

I told them, “Everyone will need to prepare,” though.

Anyone competent enough to become a national leader should have grasped the implication behind those words, at least in broad strokes. By now, they were probably agonizing over who exactly was included in that “everyone,” turning the question over again and again.

In any case, because the meeting itself was so abrupt, coordination between allied nations would also be exceedingly limited. Everything about it would be rushed, forcing them to fumble around to see what they could do.

I wasn’t concerned about that.

From the beginning, I hadn’t intended for this to be an extravagant event with assembled entourages. If that caused complaints, it didn’t matter. Moreover, even if they knew which countries were participating, it wouldn’t meaningfully impact our talk.

They have surely prepared to some extent already.

During my rest, they wouldn’t have been idle, so at the very least, they had a rough idea of what to expect. The balance of power between nations hadn’t shifted dramatically while we were inside the Tower of Ordeal. Well, I had heard that Korea enjoyed a relatively easy time diplomatically because of me. Regardless, that wasn’t an important point. Just because it was my homeland didn’t mean I planned to give it any special consideration. It wasn’t a matter of fairness, exactly. Rather, what I was about to say wasn’t something that could be selectively applied in the first place.

It is closer to a rule that simply has to be upheld.

Truth be told, the climbers had arranged a meeting after conquering the tower. I had beseeched everyone to speak freely, and as expected, a wide variety of opinions had surfaced. Some had naturally suggested that the climbers who had suffered for Earth’s sake should be granted certain conveniences or privileges. That had been immediately followed up with a common-sense counterargument—yes, the climbers had endured a lot, but for the most part, I had conquered the tower. Though they had used my achievements as the core of that argument, their reasoning aligned closely with my own thinking, lending it weight.

The climbers did suffer, but...

Even so, I didn’t want to put preferential treatment into law. Once I had made that point, no one had objected further. Among the climbers, no one had been inclined to challenge my stance.

My desire was simple—a free and peaceful world, one without irrational or reckless behavior between nations. Because I wasn’t omniscient, this wasn’t a problem that could be easily solved. The climbers were in the same position. There were many learned individuals among us, but it would be impossible to predict every consequence of our actions. That was why we had decided to establish a broad framework and focus on gradual change. There was no need to force an immediate conclusion.

Progress could be made step by step.

That was partly why I hadn’t merely rested. Even while taking breaks, I had devoted considerable thought to a wide range of issues. I had met with prominent figures like professors, scholars, and experts from fields spanning society, economics, and beyond to exchange views.

Hendrick really went through a lot, too.

Although we hadn’t decided upon a particularly grandiose plan, unforeseen problems could always arise. There was also much to consider regarding divinity and mana.

We had to consider whether Earthlings as a whole should have access to those powers.

In most of the worlds I had experienced within the tower, people made use of mana. Of course, there were exceptions, but among the worlds I had personally seen, that was the prevailing pattern.

The issue was that Earth had no compelling reason to follow the same path, and doing so would inevitably give rise to countless secondary problems. Even without mana, accidents and incidents occurred frequently. If it were suddenly unleashed without thought, even minor disputes could spiral out of control.

Even if I could grant mana to Earth’s people with absolute control, I wouldn’t want that.

Preventing accidents before they happened would require imposing strict mental constraints on common folk, which added additional risk. Moreover, nothing on Earth truly demanded such overwhelming power. Using it merely to assist physical labor felt vague and ill-suited.

Considering all of this, there was no pressing reason to release mana. Unlike the worlds I had seen in the tower, hostile gods weren’t targeting Earth. Well, if one were to lose its mind and attack, I alone could stop it.

Divine energy, though. That is more complicated.

Unlike mana, divine energy held far greater potential to benefit Earth. Through holy spells, priests could heal previously incurable patients. However, it wasn’t an issue that could be handled lightly. Treating illnesses beyond a certain threshold required an enormous amount of divine energy. That wasn’t something that could simply be distributed at will—it required sincere faith. After the foundation of Earthling priests’ divine energy had been anchored to me, while some had become stronger, others had weakened considerably.

Releasing divinity merely to treat minor injuries would be a delicate matter.

Because faith was a prerequisite, backlash from other religious groups would be inevitable. While many were currently friendly toward me, there was also no shortage of religious figures who voiced their dissatisfaction.

Heresy, they call it.

I hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, but releasing divine energy could easily escalate the issue. There was also the matter of livelihoods for those already working in medicine or pharmaceuticals.

Strictly speaking, I could just change people’s perceptions.

Again, though, that wasn’t what I wanted. If I were that kind of person, I wouldn’t have succeeded in climbing the tower in the first place. The anger I had felt upon witnessing the oppressed and persecuted during my ascent had become one of my driving forces.

My convictions were firm. I didn’t intend to arbitrarily manipulate the world.

Admittedly, my current actions could be seen as contradictory to that belief. Still, I chose to accept that much. Perfection was impossible, and some compromise was unavoidable. The Primordial God had failed while maintaining a detached, observing stance. I couldn’t let myself repeat that mistake.

In the end, I had decided to postpone distributing divine energy on a wide scale.

Drastic changes will only increase the chaos.

When I did release divine energy, I would begin with medical professionals. Divine energy could produce a meaningfully synergistic effect when paired with science and a professional’s expertise.

Hmm.

Less than a minute had passed for me to think all of this through at length. My thinking had already been fast while I was in the tower, but now it was on an entirely different level—it had transcended the flow of time itself.

As I mulled over what lay ahead, a message arrived from Seo Ho-Su.

- Su-Hyeok, is it time?

- Yes. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

I had told him a date and time, but I hadn’t explicitly summoned him. There was no need for many people to gather in the first place. More influential climbers wouldn’t benefit the situation, and it could even create an unnecessary atmosphere of intimidation. Not that I planned to do such a thing, but that was how it would appear to others.

Aside from me, most climbers had ties to their governments, and unnecessary actions could lead to faint resentment. Well, once everything was over, complaints were bound to surface in one form or another.

- Gosh, I’ve been getting calls nonstop since earlier. I told them I didn’t know anything. Go handle it well.

- I figured as much. Thank you.

- Haha, what’s there to thank me for? You’re getting moving now, right?

- Yes. I’ve rested enough. It’s not like I’ll be working nonstop anyway.

- Good. If you get bored traveling alone, call me anytime. I’ve got plenty of free time.

Imagining Seo Ho-Su’s face and voice as I read the messages, I quietly chuckled. He was still one of the few people I could speak comfortably with. That fact stemmed from the fact that, while ascending the tower, I hadn’t built close relationships with the other climbers, having devoted myself to conquering the trials.

Additionally, from the very beginning, I had topped the Leaderboard, and my performance across every floor had made many climbers uneasy around me. After I conquered the tower, that distance only grew more pronounced—I had become Earth’s god.

Aside from our party, Alexei’s party, and perhaps a small handful of others, few could still speak to me without reservation. Of course, the fact that I had also inherited the Primordial God’s position was something only they knew. Anyway, those relationships were precious to me. They brought with them small, unassuming moments of happiness that I hadn’t realized I still needed.

No matter what kind of existence I had become, my childhood on Earth had been an ordinary one. These people kept me anchored, reminding me of that ordinariness, of the life I had lived before everything changed.

- Actually, I have been planning to reach out to you once I meet up with Doppy and Ryun.

- Haha. That’s good to hear. I’ll be waiting.

Even as I spoke with him, messages continued to arrive from other climbers—Alexei, Cole, and several others. They were all saying the same thing: their governments had contacted them with a clear message. Those politicians were trying to read my stance, to glean my intentions through indirect channels.

It was more or less what I had anticipated.

Thankfully, none of them had attempted to use their personal connections to make requests or favors. They had simply asked whether today was indeed the day.

After offering a few measured replies, I steadied my breathing. It was about time to move.

***

The conference room Hendrick had prepared wasn’t particularly large. It held a single wide table and twenty-one chairs, nothing more. On the table before each seat, he had placed a small bottle of water, each one placed with uniform precision. However, the room itself carried a sense of quiet refinement. A wealthy climber had assisted us in securing it, and it showed.

There was no security detail. Kwon Su-Hyeok would be present—that alone made such precautions unnecessary.

In the empty conference room, Ha Hee-Jeong and Hendrick checked the time. Ten seconds remained, but they knew they didn’t have to remind Kwon Su-Hyeok.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One...

Within a moment after Ha Hee-Jeong and Hendrick fixed their posture, the leaders of the G20 nations appeared. For some, it was still the dead of night, yet all of them arrived properly dressed, appearances hastily but carefully arranged.

“W-what happened?”

Though they had likely anticipated something unusual, teleportation would feel strange to any non-climber at this point. Confusion surfaced across most of their faces. Fortunately, Kwon Su-Hyeok’s mastery over teleportation placed them directly into their seats. No one stumbled or collapsed in the process.

A few had remained composed, quietly surveying the unfamiliar surroundings with calm expressions.

Of course, not everyone reacted the same way. Some had found the experience deeply unsettling, not to mention that they were alone in an unfamiliar location. Unease lingered in the air, and before long, restrained complaints began to surface.

“Ahem. Why are we the only ones here? Where are our aides?”

“Is it acceptable to transport people so abruptly, without any prior notice?”

While it was true that every nation on Earth was mindful of Kwon Su-Hyeok, not all of its leaders shared the same attitude. Many were tense, wary of an unfamiliar and absolute existence. Their knowledge of him had its limits, too, since the climbers had never spoken freely about Kwon Su-Hyeok. Because of that, some had concluded that he wouldn’t act in an overly coercive manner, at least from a humanitarian standpoint.

This level of dissatisfaction wasn’t entirely unreasonable. Teleporting them without warning was hardly courteous. Still, Ha Hee-Jeong inwardly dismissed their restrained indignation. Courtesy was something required only between those of equal or similar standing. In fact, in her opinion, Kwon Su-Hyeok had already shown considerable restraint. Also, this situation wasn’t entirely accidental—the climbers were establishing the initiative.

Ha Hee-Jeong and Hendrick didn’t respond. They stood on either side of the seat of honor, waiting in silence, their expressions unreadable. When no response came, the leaders cautiously tested the atmosphere, seemingly gaining confidence.

One by one, they began voicing further complaints.

“Say something!”

“No matter what miracles you can perform, this treatment is unacceptable!”

“And without interpreters, what exactly is this supposed to—”

The overlapping voices came to a sudden halt. Only then did they realize something strange. Even those who didn’t speak English were communicating freely.

That was when Kwon Su-Hyeok’s voice reached them.

“There’s no need to worry about that. As you’ve already noticed, communication isn’t an issue.”

A few quick-witted individuals, who seemed to have realized it earlier, nodded quietly. As the startled leaders looked around at the sudden voice, they noticed that Kwon Su-Hyeok was now seated at the place of honor.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Kwon Su-Hyeok.”

Countless gazes converged on him. Some carried an inexplicable warmth, some were distant and unreadable, while others masked irritation beneath a thin veneer of composure.

Kwon Su-Hyeok met each gaze in turn.

What they felt, and what lay beneath their expressions, was irrelevant. He wasn’t here to negotiate.