11 chapter - C-Class Promotion Exam (2)

A top-tier skill, paired with a handsome face.

Sometimes people like that just… show up.

Hunters born to be stars—loaded with talent and buzz potential right out the gate.

…I’m jealous.

They say when you’re standing, you want to sit. And when you’re sitting, you want to lie down.

Just the other day, I was practically jumping for joy over getting my hands on Choi Changshik’s Trait. But now that I’ve seen someone with something even better, I’m just bitter.

They say the grass is always greener, and in this case, that grass was definitely bigger than mine.

Mana Infusion, seriously…

Mana Infusion was an extremely versatile ability.

Not only could it create sword aura to massively boost attack power, but it could also be used to coat clothes in mana, basically turning them into armor. There were endless ways to apply it.

If Choi Changshik’s awakened skill had been Mana Infusion…

His original skill that pumped up his physical stats wasn’t bad—but compared to Mana Infusion, it was way less useful.

Combine Mana Infusion with a Predator-Type Trait, and the synergy would be insane.

That would be overwhelming growth potential.

That was the real advantage of Mana Infusion.

You could bring anything in or out of a Gate.

Once you infused something with mana, you could carry it into or out of a Gate.

Basically, that meant you could walk into a Gate with a gun and massacre monsters.

In F-Class or D-Class, firearms are absurdly lethal.

It made it possible to speed-run early-level monsters and snowball your growth.

Reaching B-Class would be a matter of time—very little time.

There actually was a Hunter in South Korea who had both a Predator-Type Trait and Mana Infusion.

South Korea’s Sword Saint—S-Class Hunter Han Sooyoung.

These days, her trademark was that massive, glowing sword aura. But when she was still a low-ranked Hunter, her main weapon was a gun.

Which made perfect sense.

Firearms are the peak of modern humanity’s destructive technology.

That guy—Team Hi’s leader—would most likely end up using guns too.

The only reason he was using a bow now was probably because firearms were banned for the exam.

Well, most Hunters can’t use guns anyway.

Unless you had something like Mana Infusion, you needed a custom-made firearm built for Hunters with ground-up mana stones. And those were stupidly expensive.

And it wasn’t just the guns—the bullets were consumables and cost a fortune.

If you went into a Gate with that kind of setup, your costs would outweigh the profit.

The bullets cost more than the loot.

Unless you were filthy rich, there was no way you could use custom guns regularly.

And since this was an exam to evaluate a Hunter’s abilities inside a Gate, firearms were banned by design.

If they weren’t, even regular civilians could pass the qualification test by just pulling a trigger.

That’s why they restricted gun usage.

“Alright, reporters, one question at a time, please!”

“What’s your name?”

“Jung Minwoo. Next.”

“How was the difficulty of the test?”

Jung Minwoo let out a dramatic yawn and said,

“Not much, honestly.”

Yeah, this guy was a total attention-seeker.

To act that casual in front of a live nationwide broadcast—he was born for the spotlight.

He kept doing interviews, clearly loving the media frenzy.

Not just the reporters—everyone at the site was focused on him.

Some with envy, like me.

Others with jealousy.

Didn’t matter what the emotions were—he was the center of attention.

I was worried my signature might get caught on camera.

“Signature” referred to the actions needed to activate my skills—like putting blood in my right eye or making skin contact with Lee Yuna.

Jung Minwoo, huh? Thanks for the perfect distraction.

There weren’t any cameras on me right now. Still, just in case, I hid in the crowd and put in the blood-infused eyedrops.

Done.

Everyone’s attention was still glued to Jung Minwoo.

Thanks to that, I didn’t miss my window.

“Next! Please come forward for mana testing.”

“Ah, yes.”

Even the staff member managing the mana reader was totally distracted by Jung Minwoo’s spotlight.

“What’s your team name?”

“Choi Changshik.”

“...Team Choi Changshik?”

“Yes.”

He tapped on his tablet for a moment, then gave me a confused look.

“You don’t… have any team members?”

“Nope. I’m solo.”

He looked at me like I was crazy, then nodded slowly.

“Uh, alright. Please place your hand on the crystal ball.”

Following his instruction, I quietly placed my hand.

The orb responded, lighting up with my reading.

[ 3,258 ]

“Th-th-three thousand two hundred?!”

The guy practically shouted in disbelief.

The moment he did, every Hunter nearby turned to look at me.

“3,200? Did he say 3,200?”

“That’s B-Class level!”

“Is that a glitch?!”

I wasn’t expecting that either—my mana had stacked up that much?

I didn’t think I’d break 3,000…

Even I didn’t expect to be this close to B-Class in terms of raw mana.

I’d just assumed I’d pass the 1,000 threshold and hadn’t bothered checking.

At most, I thought maybe high 2,000s…

Choi Changshik really was a freak.

He kept grinding low-tier Gates over and over until his mana reached this point.

Well, I guess he couldn’t get promoted even if he wanted to.

His social skills were trash.

No way he could build a team or earn performance records. There’s no shot he could’ve ever completed the qualification phase with others.

Instead, he just kept hunting solo until he got strong enough to do it alone.

Thanks for doing all the hard work, Choi Changshik. I’ll enjoy the fruits of your labor.

I was in the perfect situation to enjoy the sweet rewards of everything he built with blood, sweat, and tears.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but could we test that again?”

The reaction was completely different from what the guy with 998 got.

Weren’t they just saying no retests allowed?

“There’s no reason we can’t.”

I calmly placed my hand back on the reader.

[ 3,259 ]

It had even gone up by one—now 3,259.

The staffer, still stunned, read the number out loud.

“M-Mana level 3,259. Passed.”

Thanks to his little freakout, every Hunter around the reader was staring right at me.

“Who’s that guy?”

“Did he show up thinking this was the B-Class exam?”

“Idiot, the B-Class exam’s in September. You think he’d get the dates wrong?”

All eyes were on me now—uncomfortably so.

The attention that had been on Jung Minwoo had now completely shifted.

Even Jung Minwoo himself was watching me curiously.

[3,000! That’s a record-breaking number!]

[Who is this Hunter who just smashed the previous C-Class mana record?!]

[The team name says “Choi Changshik”!]

[Looks like he registered under the team leader’s name. Does that mean this Hunter’s name is Choi Changshik?]

[I believe so… Uh, wait—]

[What is it?]

[He has… no team members!]

[What?!]

[S-Solo entry! He’s flying solo!]

The commentators' conversation made the crowd even louder.

Solo entry.

It wasn’t unheard of. There had been a few solo entrants in past exams, and they always became the center of attention.

Great. This is gonna be annoying.

I wasn’t the kind of guy who enjoyed the spotlight.

I figured this might happen—but actually experiencing it was incredibly uncomfortable.

It made me realize how weirdly impressive it was that Jung Minwoo enjoyed this kind of attention.

“Solo entry?”

“He must be really confident.”

“Well, if you’ve got over 3,000 mana, I guess you would be.”

“Still, going solo?”

“Wait, what was his team name again?”

“Choi… Changshik?”

“…Huh?”

Not many people knew what Choi Changshik looked like.

But his name? That had been making the rounds across Hunter forums for a while now.

“D-Class Choi Changshik… is that the guy?”

“The asshole?”

Apparently, a lot of people were starting to recognize the name.

I had a feeling this might turn into another incident like the one with Kim Woojin at the soup restaurant.

What a pain in the ass.

I turned to the staffer still staring blankly at the mana reader.

“Should I head over to the spot where Team Hi took their exam?”

“Ah, yes. You can go in now.”

The qualification testing area inside the stadium was intense.

“AAARGH! MY ARM!”

The main broadcaster would censor stuff like this, but the independent streams? They aired everything raw.

This kind of violent, brutal footage was exactly why people tuned in to watch the C-Class promotion exams.

That team’s out.

There were almost no teams that finished the exam as overwhelmingly as Team Hi.

Jung Minwoo was an unusual case.

Kim Jieun’s summons were each powerful enough to rival a D-Class Gate boss.

You basically had to be B-Class to take one down solo with ease.

“Fall back!”

“Block it!!”

Because the test was so close to real combat, serious injuries like this weren’t rare.

Thanks to the deployment of numerous top-tier staff, there were no fatalities—but the test content itself was brutal as hell.

“Team Crow! A team member is incapacitated! You’re disqualified!”

Whenever someone was severely injured, combat was stopped immediately by a safety officer’s judgment, and that team was disqualified.

“Who the hell said we’re disqualified?!”

“Sir, please calm down.”

“What?! Do you even know who I am?!”

Team Crow’s leader was clearly an idiot.

Not surprising, considering the safety staff on site were all—

“Aaagh!”

—all Hunters with at least C-Class strength.

The man was pinned down in the blink of an eye.

Huh? That person...

Was it a coincidence?

The one who subdued the idiot from Team Crow was the purple-haired woman who’d shown up at my funeral.

Didn’t think I’d be seeing her again like this.

Weirdly enough, kind of glad to see her.

She spoke calmly.

“Please cooperate.”

“Kgh...”

While Team Crow’s leader was being restrained, the medical team had already rushed in to treat the injured.

“You’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you? You’ll feel better soon.”

Vwoooom.

As the healer in the lab coat activated her ability, the man’s severed arm reattached.

The medical staff secured it with bandages and said,

“Get him to the hospital. Fast.”

He was carried out on a stretcher.

A lab coat, huh...

I couldn’t help but glance around, wondering if the woman who saved me that day had come too.

And then—eye contact with Lee Yuna, waving from the stands.

I gave her a light wave back and kept walking.

Grrrr...

The moment I stepped onto the field where Team Hi had taken their test, the brown wolf appeared.

Not a scratch on it.

Even if their heads get blown off, summons don’t die—they’re just unsummoned. As long as Kim Jieun had the mana to spare, they could be resummoned in perfect condition like this.

I’m ready.

My skill was already activated.

I gripped my sword tightly with both hands.

Adrenaline surged, and my heart began to pound.

The chaotic surroundings blurred, and only the wolf in front of me remained crystal clear.

Every tiny movement, every puff of breath from it—I locked in on all of it.

Come on!

It charged at me.

“Raaah!”

It was fast, no doubt about that.

But thanks to my heightened focus, I could keep up with its movements.

I saw it extend ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) its legs. I saw its shoulder muscles shift. I even saw its sharp claws swinging toward me.

As the brown wolf got within striking distance, I stepped into its attack.

And with that step, I swung my sword.

Shhhk!

The brown wolf’s neck was cleanly severed.

Its body scattered into glowing blue light as it was unsummoned.

That went well.

It had rushed in, worked up and reckless—that made it easier for me.

[One strike! He took down the summon in a single blow!]

[So clean! No way this guy’s just a D-Class Hunter. How many people have ever shown this level of performance in a C-Class qualification test?]

[Well, there was one earlier!]

The commentators were freaking out. So were the spectators. So were the Hunters watching.

The scene I’d just delivered was that overwhelming.

Then Kim Jieun’s voice echoed across the stadium.

[Quiet. You’re disrupting the test. All completed teams, please exit the stadium. Results will be sent via text later.]

That was clearly directed at me.

She was staring right at me.

I walked silently toward the exit, glancing up at the giant screen.

The Kim Jieun on that screen didn’t look sleepy at all.

Sometimes she made expressions like that.

Like when Jung Minwoo took out the wolf with a single arrow—she’d worn the same look.

Eyes burning bright like fire—sharp and piercing.

That was Kim Jieun’s way of giving top-tier praise.

Guess I really might become famous after this.

At the very least, anyone in the Hunter scene—or aspiring to be—would remember my face after today.

Not a bad thing.

In this era, fame was a kind of power.

Having it never hurt.

Sure, it came with downsides. But the benefits were bigger.

“Hey, you there.”

It was Jung Minwoo.

He wore a face full of goodwill.

He casually threw an arm around my shoulder and spoke.

“You were amazing. Seriously badass.”

I asked cautiously,

“Do you… know me?”

Jung Minwoo shook his head and answered,

“First time seeing you.”

“…”

He acted so familiar, I thought maybe he’d known Choi Changshik personally.

“I just like strong Hunters. Like you.”

“...Thanks.”

“No need for thanks. Talk to me like a friend.”

“How old are you…?”

“Me? Born in ‘91.”

That made him thirty-one.

Seven years older than Choi Changshik, and five years older than my original age.

With that face?

He looked like he was in his early twenties. Dude was seriously baby-faced.

“So, which guild are you with?”

“None.”

“Really? Wanna join ours? I can recommend you.”

“No thanks.”

As someone who’d spent their whole life as an outsider, the idea of joining a guild full of extroverts was instinctively off-putting.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

Even if I'm promising, I’m still just a D-Class Hunter right now.

I had no idea where Jung Minwoo ranked in his guild, but no matter how much potential a rookie had, a D-Class wouldn’t have much influence.

Meaning his recommendation wouldn’t get me any real perks.

And if he did have influence, that’s even worse.

A guild where a D-Class Hunter held sway? That would mean it was total trash.

Joining would do me no good.

Signing a contract now would only screw up my market value.

Thanks to all the personality drama surrounding “Choi Changshik,” I couldn’t even find a single teammate.

Anyone doing a basic background check would figure that out.

There was no way I’d get a decent contract offer right now.

I’ll join a guild when I’ve jacked up my market value as high as possible.

Once I built my own party, racked up clear records in D-Class Gates, and proved my ability.

That would be the best time to make a deal.

Problem is, who the hell would want to join a party with “Choi Changshik” right now?

I needed to fix that image first.

Only then could I recruit party members.

And right on cue, a perfect opportunity showed up.

“Hunter! Hunter! Can we get an interview?!”

“May we ask a few questions?”

I gave the crowd of reporters a quick glance and replied,

“One question per person, please.”

That day, I answered every reporter’s question sincerely.

With the kindest voice and expression I could muster.