Worldwide Class Change: Minimal Effort, Maximum Reward!-Chapter 76, Exiting Floor, Lin Yi Path to Glory!
The thirty-ninth floor arrived without warning.
One moment the staircase was carrying them upward, the familiar transition between floors passing like a breath held and released. The next moment, the door opened, and the world changed.
It wasn’t heat this time. It wasn’t cold, or darkness, or disorienting terrain. It was pressure. A pure, undiluted weight that descended the instant they crossed the threshold, pressing down on every part of them simultaneously, as though the air itself had gained mass and decided to use it.
Wang Hao made it three steps before stopping. His knees bent slightly without his permission. His hand went to his chest instinctively. "...What is this."
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement made by someone whose body was already providing the answer whether they wanted it or not.
Su Qinghan fared better, her Frostblade class providing marginal resistance through the cold aura that surrounded her constantly. But even she had slowed. Her steps were deliberate in a way they hadn’t been on any previous floor, each one requiring conscious effort to maintain. Her grip on her weapon was tight enough to whiten her knuckles.
Lin Yi walked forward steadily.
The pressure touched him. He felt it clearly, pressing against his chest, his shoulders, his mind. It wasn’t subtle. It was the kind of force that communicated intent, a warning built into the fabric of the floor itself. *Turn back. You are not ready for this.* He acknowledged it the way he acknowledged most things. Calmly, without giving it more weight than it deserved.
His eyes moved to the center of the floor.
The monster was already there.
It stood at the far end of the arena, motionless, facing away from them. It was enormous, close to five meters tall, built like a mountain given form and anger. The body was that of a man, heavily muscled, armored in natural bone plating that had grown directly from its skin across the shoulders, forearms, and chest. The head was that of a bull, horns curved and scarred from use, its breath coming in slow visible clouds despite the heat of the lower floors still lingering in the air. One hand rested on the ground. The other held a weapon. A chain. At the end of the chain hung a spiked iron ball the size of a small boulder, resting on the stone floor with a weight that had already cracked the surface beneath it.
A system prompt appeared.
[Ruinborn Minotaur]
Threat Level: 39 (Boss)
HP: 24,600 / 24,600
Physical Attack: 680–820
Physical Defense: 560–640
Magic Resistance: 120–180
[A creature born from accumulated destruction within the tower’s deepest pressure zones. Its body is hardened by decades of accumulated force, making it resistant to most physical strikes. The chain weapon it carries generates gravitational pressure with each swing, amplifying the floor’s existing suppression field. Direct combat is not recommended without significant level advantage.]
[Pressure Aura: Continuously generates a suppression field that scales with proximity. Reduces movement speed and attack power of targets within range.
Gravity Smash: Swings the chain weapon in a full arc, releasing a gravitational shockwave.]
[Ruincharge: Lowers head and charges in a straight line with enough force to destroy reinforced stone.
Weakness: The bone plating across the lower back did not fully form. The spine is exposed.]
Wang Hao read the prompt. He read it again. Then he sat down on the floor.
He simply sat down, his legs crossing beneath him with the quiet resignation of someone who had arrived at a conclusion through careful and honest reasoning.
"I can’t fight that," he said. "I want to be very clear about this. I cannot fight that. My legs are already barely working from the pressure alone and that thing’s passive aura hasn’t even noticed us yet."
Su Qinghan said nothing. Her eyes were on the Minotaur. Her frost energy was pushing back against the suppression field actively, and even with that it was costing her. She could feel the drain. The pressure wasn’t just physical. It pressed against concentration, against the spiritual channels that connected a hunter to their class abilities. A sustained fight under these conditions would exhaust her reserves before she could meaningfully contribute.
She knew it. And accepting that knowledge without arguing against it was its own kind of discipline.
She turned to Lin Yi. "We’re leaving."
Lin Yi looked at her briefly.
"I know," he said.
Wang Hao looked up from the floor. "You’re not going to tell us to stay and fight?"
Lin Yi shook his head.
Wang Hao exhaled slowly. "Okay. Good. That’s the right answer."
He then planted one hand on the floor and pushed himself to his feet, the pressure making even that simple motion feel like lifting something heavy.
"Three hundred and ninety points." He said it as though tasting the number. "That’s not nothing."
"It’s not," Lin Yi agreed.
Su Qinghan moved toward the exit staircase that had appeared along the wall, the tower’s system generating a retreat path as it always did when a floor was entered but not yet engaged. She paused with one foot on the first step. Her eyes went back to the Minotaur. Still motionless. Still facing away. As though it already knew it wouldn’t need to turn around for most visitors to this floor.
"You’re staying," she said. It wasn’t a question.
"Yes."
She looked at him for a moment. Something passed across her expression that wasn’t quite concern and wasn’t quite confidence, but existed in the space between them.
"Don’t die," she said. Then she climbed the staircase and disappeared.
Wang Hao lingered. He looked at Lin Yi, then at the Minotaur, then back at Lin Yi. "I genuinely cannot tell if you’re brave or insane," he said. "I’ve been trying to figure it out for weeks."
He started backing toward the exit. "If you don’t come back..." He stepped onto the staircase. "Come back, Brother Lin."
Then he was gone.
The exit staircase retracted. The pressure in the room redistributed slightly, as if the floor recognized that only one challenger remained.
The Minotaur turned.
Its eyes found him immediately. Pale, colorless, carrying the flat and absolute attention of something that existed only to destroy. The chain in its hand shifted, the iron ball lifting from the ground with a sound like a glacier moving, and the suppression field in the room spiked instantly. The air became heavier. The floor cracked in a widening circle beneath the creature’s feet as its full weight settled into a combat stance.
Lin Yi opened his system panel. Not to check his stats. To confirm what he already knew. Level 42. Against a Threat Level 39 boss with a suppression aura and a weapon that amplified gravitational force. The numbers were workable. The reality of the room was something else. He closed the panel and drew the Celestial Lord Blade.
The golden runes along the weapon’s surface ignited immediately, responding to the pressure in the room as though recognizing a genuine threat. The light they produced was steadier than usual. Brighter. As if the blade itself understood that this floor was different.
The Minotaur moved.
It swung the chain first, a single rotation overhead, the iron ball building speed until the air around it was screaming. Then it released the swing sideways, the ball arcing outward across the arena floor in a horizontal sweep that didn’t need to be aimed precisely because at that size and speed it didn’t need to be.
Lin Yi jumped. The chain passed beneath him, the gravitational wake of its passing dragging at his legs as it went, pulling him downward harder than gravity alone could account for. He landed and immediately moved, because the chain was already coming back on the return arc, the Minotaur’s wrist turning to redirect it upward.
He ducked. The iron ball passed close enough that the pressure displacement pushed his head to one side.
*Fast, for its size.* He was already retracking the chain’s next arc in his peripheral vision. *And the gravitational pull extends well beyond the direct impact zone.*
He pushed forward.
Phantom Void Step.
