Ever since I was little, I had this inside urge. This feeling which told me something was off, something was wrong. I grew up and it grew up with me – the uneasiness. As I began getting smarter, I managed to stick the pieces of the puzzle. The wrong thing – was me. To be more precise – 'I' didn't belong to this world. To this place. It sets different standards – you should be gentle, calm, polite, you should study, get good grades, and graduate. You should find a job, a partner, and settle into a new house. You should create a family, have kids, be a parental figure. All of these were "should's". And 'I' didn't want to be told what to do, I didn't want my life to be controlled. These criminals, which were labeled "bad", these creative people, which were labeled "strange", these cartoon villains, which were labeled "evil" were all free. So, being free was considered an evil deed. Something bad, terrible, devilious. And 'I' was by exchange – evil.
My family was rich, high in the hierarchy, it was a family just like the ones in the movies – a family that set an example. And 'I' as a continuation had to go by the "standard". 'I' wasn't necessarily special – 'I' wasn't too stupid, nor too smart, 'I' wasn't too weak, nor too strong. But the gazes, expectations, words were starting to pile up and 'I' knew if this went on the same way, something would break. Cracks were slowly appearing in this perfect picture and it seemed 'I' was the hammer that had started the damage. "When will he make something great, meaningful, something to shut the mouths of the media, of the press, of the other families with high status? Their kids have talents – they are excessively smart, strong or can draw very well, some play the piano, others – the guitar, some are singing. When will 'he' make something to make us proud?" It was as if different pieces were being thrown one after another, a tall building was being created and it was about to fall.
In school, one day, a teacher didn't have a coin for the vending machine. 'I' helped. A classmate had lost his scissors – 'I' helped. A girl had its phone battery at 0% and couldn't call her parents – 'I' helped. On the upcoming test – the boy covered for me, the girl gave me the answers and the teacher pretended not to notice – after all 'I' had helped them. This all continued – week after week my grades improved. Some classmates were beginning to notice but when they were in need of help – 'I' helped. In fact, sometimes 'I' deliberately created situations to make some be in need of help and then – 'I' helped. Not too long after that the whole school was mine. No one could speak. 'I' knew their secrets, 'I' knew how they also cheated and how the teachers had helped. 'I' went to a contest, a Math one. The first round was in school. And 'I' had helped. So, by extension, 'I' was first. No one minded it.
Hearing the news, at home, everything was smooth. 'I' knew this won't go on forever. Even by that time 'I' had learned to steal, but "stealing" was a bad word. 'I' had learned to help those with a lot of money by freeing them from the weight and, by extension, helped those who were lacking by freeing them from part of the misery in which they were. 'I' was piling up resources for when it cracks. This whole "mission" had begun when 'I' was in 4th grade and continued for 3 years. 'I' had won and passed every single test – perfectly, every contest – regional level, country level, national level. 'I' was a professional "cheater" by 7th grade – the moment it fell. The cracks were covered with glue. They weren't fixed. The company of 'that' family had lost resources – a serious business loss. And suddenly – they spoke. The teachers, the classmates, the headmasters, the parents. They were apparently waiting – for a slip. And 'I'? – I knew that this would happen. Every media was after 'that' family. Their son was a "bad" – he dared to lie, he was "strange" – why would he cheat, he was "evil".
They stripped me of 'my' titles, of my medals, of my achievements. But you see – those were never 'mine' to begin with. They belonged to the system. To the world 'I' never accepted. When the foundation cracked, 'I' smiled. Because 'I' knew that was the day 'I' stopped pretending. 'I' was sent away. Not to prison, not to juvie – no, nothing so dramatic. 'I' was "re-educated," rehabilitated. Behind closed doors, of course. Not for 'my' sake, but to save face. The 'family's' reputation needed cleansing. But when you break a mirror, taping it back together doesn't make it whole again. 'I' watched the world turn on me and realized – this game, this real world – was easier to break than 'I' thought. So 'I' disappeared. Not physically. Not yet. 'I' made myself invisible in another way. 'I' stopped answering to the name they gave me. 'I' stopped being the polite, well-mannered prodigy. 'I' taught myself everything they didn't want me to know.
Hacking? That's too simple of a word. 'I' didn't just break into systems. 'I' rewrote the rules. 'I' created doorways in places no one even knew existed. The same way 'I' manipulated people back in school, 'I' started manipulating code. Algorithms. Traffic lights. Surveillance. Bank accounts. Everything had a backdoor. And 'I' always found it. They thought 'I' was gone. Good riddance. But while they were busy pretending the scandal never happened, 'I' was building. The building they couldn't build, the image they couldn't hold. A second life. No – a second self. This was me.
It took years. I erased myself from every public record. I created dozens of identities, shadow accounts, and data masks. I funded myself through cybercrime – except I never targeted people. Only corporations, only systems. If someone exploited others, I exploited them harder. Some called it justice. I called it balance. Then I found it. As if someone had purposely slipped on the way and had left that backdoor. Their security was top level, maybe even otherworld level but there was just a single line of code done wrong. And I had exploited it the way the person on the other side wanted. They knew about me and wanted me to find out.
"The Tower Project". This was the name that was given.
At first, I thought it was a myth. A hidden digital network, disguised as a game, a social experiment, a simulation. But the deeper I dug, the more real it became. It wasn't just a game. It was a mirror—a warped version of society, exaggerated, controlled, twisted. A perfect place for someone like me. I slipped into the system like a whisper. No entry logs, no registration, no tutorials. Just a breach, a crack in the wall, and then—I was in. I didn't play by the rules. I bypassed the tutorial zones. I entered the intermediate tower islands on Day 1. They called me a glitch. A threat to the system. But there was something or someone that supported me and covered for me – "The Cheater's Hall". This organization was something beyond the tower islands. The invitation I had received from them showed it – they had issued me….., no – us – a challenge. To all of us, the ones who wanted to be free.
I watched from the shadows. I learned. Analyzed. I saw [The Faculty Director]. The Council he controlled. I saw the fake leaders and the pawns who worshiped them. And then, I saw him. Noah.
The system hated him for the same reason it hated me. Because he wasn't supposed to exist. Because he bent things. But I noticed something different about him. He wasn't just breaking rules—he was following his own. That intrigued me. So I kept following. Tracking. I prepared – for this moment. The moment the Director would finally overstep. The moment this isolated battlefield would be sealed. The moment the rules would collapse entirely. That moment was now.
Noah had triggered his trap and now I had triggered mine. Because the "reality", the director so much wanted to control – was already "rewritten" – it wasn't his own to begin with. It belonged to the system – and we were after this system, we were rewriting it. From the moment I saw Noah, I knew how smart he was. I was drawn to his intellect, intuition, and talent in the purest form. I knew we could speak without saying words. That was the power we had.
「[The Faculty Director] entered "Crimson State", current number of Locks: 10 」
「You have been defeated. 」
「Myth-grade Achievement rewards distribution is pending, final verification has been confirmed 」
「Do you want to use "Crimson Heart"? Note that after effect is over, your defeat will not be undone 」
[Yes] [No]
[Item: Cheatcode Fragment — Crimson Heart Restore (Limited)]
[Effect: Let's you return to Real Heart after Crimson Heart Effect is over, can only be used in battles against enemies in "Crimson State"]
[Coin Cost: -5 000 000 000 000/use (+2 500 000 000 000/use)]
Bzzzz.
[Coin Cost: –]