I Don't Need To Log Out-Chapter 271: Zar’veth

Arlon could see the name and level of the monster.

Even against the boss of the previous floor, he had been denied that information. His skill had been too weak to overcome whatever obscured it.

But now, it was there.

Not all of it. Not everything.

But enough.

The realization sent another wave of unease through him. Was it because this monster was weaker in some way? That didn't seem likely.

If anything, it was the opposite.

It could also be caused by him being level 299 now.

Maybe his training was on par with level 300 existences.

Or maybe the boss on the previous floor was at a higher level than this one. If the Tower was broken again, it was possible.

It didn't matter now, though.

A deep frown settled on his face as he shifted his gaze back to the creature.

And then, something else clicked.

Even though only a few seconds had passed since he entered the floor, the monster hadn't moved.

It wasn't that the monster didn't attack him; it didn't move a muscle.

Not a single twitch.

Arlon's grip on his weapon tightened as his gaze sharpened.

The monster wasn't waiting.

It wasn't preparing an attack.

It was frozen.

The longer he looked, the stranger it seemed.

The natural instincts of a predator were missing. It wasn't sizing him up, wasn't getting ready to charge, wasn't doing anything.

It was just... stuck.

Arlon didn't move either.

He had no idea what was happening, but approaching without understanding the situation was reckless.

His heartbeat remained steady as seconds ticked by.

One.

Two.

Three.

The air behind him shifted.

Immediately, Arlon turned—his body reacting before his mind could process the movement.

His stance dropped low, his weapon raised, his entire focus snapping toward the presence that had appeared out of nowhere.

And what he saw made his eyes widen slightly.

"...Jiroeki?"

Standing behind him, in the middle of Floor 91, was the very being he had been thinking about just moments ago.

Arlon didn't let his guard down. His fingers remained tight around his weapon, and his stance didn't waver.

It wasn't impossible for an enemy to create illusions, and he had no intention of lowering his defenses just because something looked familiar.

But before he could demand an explanation, Jiroeki spoke.

"Before you think I am just an illusion created by the monster or something and attack me, let me explain," it said, as if reading Arlon's mind. "I came here to inform you that the Tower is not broken."

Arlon stared.

The words processed, but they barely settled before Jiroeki continued.

"Normally, I shouldn't interfere like this. But since you underwent some things due to my negligence—though it wasn't my fault—I decided to help you here.

Ah, it might be misunderstood. The thing is, if you hadn't seen a broken Tower, you wouldn't think this floor was broken.

And that is why I interfered. This is the Tower's mechanic. So, don't worry, and continue."

Arlon remained still.

His mind raced to keep up with the sudden information dump.

The Tower wasn't broken.

This wasn't a bug.

The rules were still intact.

And yet—

"I just slowed the time on this floor except for you," Jiroeki added, cutting through his thoughts. "So the monster will move after I leave."

Arlon inhaled sharply.

That explained everything.

The monster wasn't frozen.

It was simply trapped in a slowed state of time.

No wonder it hadn't moved.

No wonder it seemed unnatural.

Finally, the tension in his shoulders loosened just slightly.

He met Jiroeki's gaze and gave a short nod. "Thanks," he said.

Jiroeki didn't respond.

Arlon wasn't sure if it was because it didn't care for gratitude or if it simply didn't think much of this interference.

Either way, he was relieved. The anxiety clawing at him over the Tower breaking again had vanished.

But there was still one thing left.

"Then tell me," Arlon asked, his voice firm, "What is this mechanic? Why is there only one monster?"

Jiroeki didn't answer.

It simply remained silent, its expression as unreadable as ever.

Arlon exhaled through his nose.

He didn't push.

If Jiroeki wasn't going to explain, then there was no point in wasting his energy.

This was fine.

A single level 300 enemy was far better than facing hundreds of them.

Arlon relaxed his posture slightly, giving the being before him one last glance. "Then I won't ask for anything else," he said.

Jiroeki didn't hesitate.

It simply vanished.

The moment it did, a shift rippled through the air.

Arlon turned back toward the monster.

The stillness was gone.

It moved.

Arlon's grip on his weapon tightened.

Jiroeki had given him an answer—one that meant more than what was simply spoken.

It had been watching.

It had always been watching.

Maybe it watched everyone.

Maybe it observed every Tower across every world at speeds beyond comprehension.

He still didn't know how the Tower worked.

But this change—this structure—meant something.

If the floors were shifting, then the end might be near.

And that thought rekindled something inside him.

The ambition he had nearly lost.

The reason he had climbed this far.

He steadied himself, eyes locked onto the monster before him.

No more distractions.

It was time to fight.

---

After Jiroeki left, the monster started moving.

But it didn't approach Arlon.

That alone was strange.

Every non-humanoid monster he had encountered in the Tower had always attacked immediately, either by charging at him or leaping forward the moment they spotted him.

There had never been hesitation. Never a moment where they put distance between themselves and their target.

But this one was different.

Zar'veth moved away.

Arlon remained in his stance, keeping his defense tight.

His instincts screamed at him not to lower his guard, no matter how odd the monster's behavior seemed.

Arlon started analyzing the monster.

First of all, its level wasn't too high—level 300 was intimidating but not an impossible wall. He could win. He was sure of that.

But it certainly didn't mean he could be careless.

Secondly, the monster itself was unlike anything Arlon had encountered before.

It was not particularly large—at most, its body stretched to the length of one and a half humans.

In comparison to the towering monstrosities he had faced since passing the fiftieth floor, it was almost small. But that only made it more unsettling.

Its entire form was covered in a deep, blood-red exoskeleton, a smooth yet unnatural sheen reflecting the ambient light of the floor.

Its face—if it could even be called that—had no eyes and no discernible features aside from a jagged, vertical maw lined with overlapping fangs.

The opening was narrow, almost as if the creature had to tear itself apart just to bite down on something.

And then, there were its arms.

Six limbs extended from its torso, each one segmented like an insect's but ending in wickedly sharp, spear-like points.

At first glance, Arlon had expected them to be rigid, weapons that could only stab straight ahead, but as the monster shifted, he noticed that they flexed with unnatural ease—like a predator's legs poised to strike.

That was part of the reason he had assumed the monster would leap at him.

Everything about it screamed that it was built for impalement, for rushing its prey and striking before they had time to react.

But it didn't.

Instead, it moved further away.

Arlon's grip on his sword tightened, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed every movement.

The monster had started by retreating to the far end of the floor, its long arms twitching slightly as if adjusting to an unseen rhythm.

Then—without warning—Zar'veth shot something.

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