Tower of Endless: Death Granted Entry

After his shower, Moon went for dinner. Once he was done, Ed instructed, "Go take a break for now. Once you’re feeling in your best condition again, go to the ring; I’ll be waiting there."

Moon placed his platter on the counter before turning around to sprint.

"Make sure you bring everything you would bring in a fight; we’re going all out," Ed reminded, getting comfortable in his seat again.

Samuel and Uon have yet to come, so he’ll be staying here for a little longer.

Moon, on the other hand, rushed to his room. He first secured Liquid Mountain on his waist before fishing the knife from the belt it came with and fixing it to his left, the opposite side of Liquid Mountain’s handle.

Then, he grabbed Colten’s sword and fixed it over his shoulder.

Moon ran to the mirror to check how he looked, and he looked—

"Dashing, like shit!" he said, before scratching his forehead.

The scabs fell, revealing a small dent in the skin. Moon ran his fingers over it a couple of times.

"Doesn’t look like it’ll leave a scar," he said, satisfied.

"These scrubs aren’t worth carrying scars for," he said, walking back to the desk.

The problem of his hair looking like it was scorched and heavily damaged was still there; the density was also gone.

As for his eyebrows, they still hadn’t gotten enough time to regrow.

Thus, even though he looked awesome with the weapons around, his face and hair didn’t come anywhere near as good as they should have been.

He grabbed the helmet from the desk and put it on his head. It was time for a change.

He walked back to the mirror and looked at himself for a moment.

He then nodded and gave himself a thumbs-up.

Before leaving, he remembered the third guy in the picture. Ed and Samuel’s old friend.

’Did that guy ever wear a helmet before?’

’Is there anything that could make him look like shit?’

’No wonder Chef always calls him a bastard!’

Moon looked into the mirror again and gave himself another thumbs-up... "I’m still more dashing!" he told himself that last thing before heading out.

It was time to get going.

Moon stepped out and made his way to the ring.

Soon, he started passing by scattered fresh ascenders, who couldn’t help but stare at the sudden, unusual sight.

A guy walking around armed, wearing a helmet but not a single piece of armor, with a round, bouncy object following him around.

It wasn’t hard for anyone to identify him, yet no one spoke a word about the weird sight or tried to ask where he was going.

Except for one.

"BOSS, ARE YOU GOING TO WAR BY YOURSELF?" Basil shouted from meters ahead, running at Moon.

He was holding something carefully with both hands while running, something that looked like—

"Is that a cup of coffee?" Moon squinted his eyes behind the helmet.

Screech~

Basil hit the brakes with his legs and drifted his way to Moon. "Yes, boss... Want me to grab one for you?" he offered, before leaning close to Moon.

"Or maybe," he whispered, "do you want a helping hand beating up some scrubs?" He winked.

Behind the visor, Moon’s eyes rolled. "Come with me; if I still have time, we can drink coffee." Moon waved for Basil to follow him, and he did readily.

"You still have time; go do what you want... I’ll let you know once I’m done."

Moon suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Boss?" Basil asked, perplexed, excitedly following.

Ed’s voice came to his ears again. Moon pursed his lips. "Let’s have coffee; I still have time."

"Sure, boss," Basil said, extending his hands forward to Moon. "Take care of that babe for me, boss. I’ll be back in a second." He handed Moon his coffee and sprinted again.

He suddenly paused. "BOSS, HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR COFFEE?"

"JUST LIKE HOW YOU DRINK IT!" Moon answered, his voice somewhat muffled under the helmet.

He then ignored the running Basil and looked around, located an empty bench, and took a seat. To his side, his Echo kept bouncing, and in his hands was the cup of coffee.

He sat down; only after a few minutes did Basil return in a wild sprint once again.

"Here, boss... I made you one like how I drink it." Basil posed, half-kneeling with both hands extended forward with the coffee.

Moon took the one in his hand, and placed the one he had in Basil’s hands. "Sit, let’s talk," he ordered.

He brought up the helmet’s mask. The helmet had a design where the eye visors were small but unmoving. Instead, the entire face would slide up, exposing everything below his eyebrows.

That’s how he took advantage of the design to behead Dave back then.

"Sure, boss." Basil sat.

Moon started drinking, but when he glanced at Basil, he wasn’t drinking. "Aren’t you going to drink?" he asked.

"I would take off my mask for boss, but not in public," Basil answered straightforwardly.

Moon nodded, not sure what that was, but it wasn’t something he would argue over.

"How much did we earn from the last round of betting?" Moon asked; he was still unsure of how money works beyond the first floor, or even on the first floor, but it was time to know.

"Ah, that..." Basil’s eyes smiled with pride. "You see, boss... Barrett is taking care of everything. We earned around 3,000 Tower coins, if I remember right."

Moon blinked, not sure if that was a lot or a small amount, but he was certain it was probably a decent amount considering the smile on Basil’s face.

"Why Barrett, though?" Moon asked.

"Maybe we never had a chance to introduce ourselves, but Barrett is actually the son of a merchant. Though he only received basic training from the guards, he’s good when it comes to handling money," Basil explained.

Moon nodded; some things would need some time to figure out. Yet, "What about you? What did you do before ascending?" Moon asked.

Basil’s eyes darted left and right, back and forth. He leaned close to Moon’s ear and whispered.

"I used to be a thief from the third floor," Basil answered.

Moon raised his eyebrows. "You were?" he asked back, not sure if it was a good or bad thing.

Basil proceeded to tell Moon about how he lived on the third floor, his ’work’ as a thief, and the significance of the mask over his face.

So many things he wasn’t sure about, but he listened well, for he felt his life and the one Basil led weren’t that much different.

The only difference was that Basil’s wasn’t as bloody, but other than that, it wasn’t much different.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the Southern Branch, Ed stood by himself, or maybe waited, though he wasn’t wearing his chef’s or blacksmith’s clothes right now.

He wore a basic, loose white robe; on his back he had two blades, on his waist a blade like the one Moon had, Liquid Mountain, and around his chest, a belt of knives stacked one next to the other.

He wasn’t wearing any armor at all.

Seconds passed slowly, and soon, someone appeared like a descending star before his eyes.

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