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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Qualifying Tournament
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A month later, I sat for the Hunter qualification exam. The despair I'd first felt at the Seongnam Memorial had been tucked away, more or less.
The anger toward the monsters still burned vividly in my heart, but I hadn't let those emotions drag me into wasting time like some amateur.
"Time to jack up my price a bit."
Before, I'd had just one goal. Save this doomed world, and I could go home. Recognition didn't matter. I was leaving anyway.
But now? Two goals.
Wipe out every Erosion Core on the surface—and grab the rewards that rightfully come my way in the process. After all, I've got to keep living here.
Gotta eat well and live well.
To pull that off, I had to turn this ridiculous tournament into my stage and deliver results.
"Yoo Chan-seok, Hunter candidate."
Lee Hyun-seok was now Yoo Chan-seok. Only natural with a new body.
"Yes."
I stood and followed the guide to the central arena, eyes on me from all sides.
―No casualties or injuries beyond a certain level are permitted. If there's no clear winner, the guild Hunters watching from these seats will decide the outcome.
These lives were too valuable to waste here. I gripped the spear they'd provided.
―Begin.
I flicked my spear tip with my toe. My opponent wielded one too.
"Come on!"
He swiped his hand down the shaft, flames blooming in its wake.
What a coincidence. My signature move looked pretty similar on the surface. I glanced at his spear, settled into stance, and drew a deep breath.
With the inhale came faint mana, which I channeled straight into my body and weapon. He sneered at me.
"What the—? They said no Academy record, but you're straight-up trash."
"Yeah, heard there's this kindergarten for raising kids."
I'd considered enrolling. Age didn't match, though.
"Kindergarten."
He muttered it with an incredulous look.
"Try getting beat by a kindergartener."
"Or get your ass handed to you and go crying to the teacher."
A quick extra jab, and the fight was on.
"What the hell kind of spear work is that?"
I dodged his straight thrust, let out a small sigh, dropped my spear mid-evade, and drove a few punches into his gut.
"Keh... hek!"
Embarrassing to even hold a spear at this point.
The mana built up in his body was on par with a decent squire from that other world. But his skill and application? Not even close.
Fifteen years, huh. No surprise his utilization lagged behind guys who'd been nursing a single strand of mana for thousands of years.
"Think of it as getting hit by a truck."
To finish him off clean, I slammed two more punches into his chest and head, then turned and walked out of the arena without checking.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The flame in the pipe Lee Se-eun held had gone out completely. You had to puff periodically to keep the embers alive, and she hadn't for a while.
She watched the loser hack and cough in the arena for a bit, then flipped through the roster without a word.
"Yoo Chan-seok. Applied a month ago. Hasn't set foot near the Academy."
She shook out the dead pipe.
"Previous job... logistics company intern? What is that guy?"
Where the hell did a monster like that pop from?
"Almost no mana accumulated in his body. That movement was impressive, but..."
At those words, she flicked a piece of yeot from her pocket at her aide.
Candy meant praise. Yeot meant scolding. The aide shut his mouth the instant he caught it.
"He's deliberately not building it up. Or... how is that even possible?"
The word genius flashed through her mind. Lee Se-eun spoke with conviction.
"I wanted to see his spearwork."
The guy had started with a spear in hand. Meaning it was his main weapon. Knocking the opponent out with fists just meant the guy wasn't worth drawing it for.
"Wouldn't Han Sang-ah—the one 1st Team Leader took interest in—use a spear too?"
Lee Se-eun shook her head firmly. She'd seen Han Sang-ah's skills already.
"No chance. That guy's just gonna keep punching."
They were in a different league. She stood, dusted off her rear, straightened her pant legs, and said,
"I'm going to see the Association President."
The folks from other companies were probably all tapping away at mental calculators right now.
"While the others fiddle with their calculators..."
Lee Se-eun was the type to crunch numbers fast and act immediately.
"Association President."
"Ah, Miss Lee Se-eun. What can I do for you?"
A fairly aged man with a solid build spotted her, doffed his bowler hat, and bowed. His gleaming bald head matched his beaming smile. Lee Se-eun spoke up.
"I came to ask a favor."
"Depends on the favor..."
She said it casually, like it was no big deal.
"The ongoing Hunter selection, right? I want to teach the final winner a move or two."
The president gave a mildly surprised look, eyed her, then chuckled.
"You've got your eye on that Yoo Chan-seok kid, I take it."
"Yes."
A man of his stature wouldn't have missed the buzz around this sudden freak candidate.
"There was another kid drawing attention right up until the matches."
"Well, she's not useless. Just drawn an unfair comparison."
He stroked his chin, deep in thought.
"Other companies might have something to say about that."
"Tell 'em to eat yeot. A scout's ass works better the lighter it is."
It was their fault for being slowpokes. She wasn't wrong for making the offer here.
Besides, this balding middle-aged guy wasn't incompetent enough to let that level of grumbling slide.
"Understood. I'll see what I can do."
"Appreciate it."
With business done, Lee Se-eun turned to leave.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
One by one, I handled my opponents.
What the hell did they even teach at the Academy?
"Rushing to bloom flowers without roots."
Like trying to cook galbitang when you can't even boil ramen. Heartbreaking.
These guys had just started sensing and handling mana. And they were already leaning on it to solve everything.
"You."
Finally, one opponent left. The sword-wielding woman eyed me with faint hostility.
"Did I do something to you?"
"..."
She didn't answer. But she couldn't hide the curiosity in her eyes.
I scanned her up and down and clicked my tongue.
"You've built up a decent amount of mana."
A substantial reserve hummed inside her. She looked young—could you even accumulate that much at her age? She replied calmly.
"Compared to that, you've got nothing. You've been lucky to get this far, but no more."
"Where do you even pick up lines that bland?"
I hadn't failed to accumulate mana. I just chose not to.
"Looks like you haven't awakened your Unique Trait either."
"Unique Trait."
Once your mana mastery hits a certain level, the ability latent in your soul awakens. Things like breathing fire or teleporting.
I had one too. But the reason I stuck to pure physical enhancement? Simple. Going beyond into my signature move would cause irreversible damage.
I'm no butcher. Turning someone into a cripple just for being a little cocky? That's psychopath territory.
―Then, begin.
With the announcement, she assumed her stance. One hand on the scabbard, the other lightly on the hilt.
I gave her a pitying look.
"Out of all the sword styles, you pick iaido?"
Iaidō—also called quick-draw. Handy for ambushes, maybe. But taking that stance in an open duel? A special kind of stupid.
"Hup."
Her internal mana surged toward the scabbard. A sharp crackle, pale sparks flying.
Lightning. My battle-honed instincts clocked her plan instantly.
"Ah, now that's different."
She was running current through the sheath and blade to magnetize them.
Using that magnetism to amp up the draw strength—like a railgun.
"Must've been tough developing that. You're definitely the best so far."
No doubt she'd put real thought into it.
"I won't kill you."
With that, she charged, locked in iaidō form.
A thunderbolt slash. Incredibly fast. Incredibly powerful.
"What...?!"
But it never connected. The lightning strike whistled past my chest.
"You have to actually hit your opponent. And you're way too arrogant for your skill level."
She'd poured every ounce of mana into the iaidō, even committing her full body weight.
A miss like that leaves you wide open. She hadn't even considered I'd dodge.
And the price for that honest, arrogant strike? My fist rocketing toward her gut.
"Grk...!"
She scraped together her remaining mana for a hasty defense and got shoved back.
"That was supposed to be undodgeable."
"Faster. Stronger. Right?"
I stepped back, bounced lightly on my toes with fists clenched, and tsked.
"You got too fixated on that."
To accelerate the draw even more, she'd laid mana rails in the air.
Which telegraphed the sword's entire path before she even swung.
No matter how fast or powerful, telegraphing your attack like a telegraphed punch? Who falls for that crap?
"..."
She gripped her drawn sword and reset her stance.
At least she wasn't dumb enough to resheath and try iaidō again.
"I can still take you head-on."
"Dream on. Anything's possible in dreams."
She closed in with rapid slashes. Long, steady training was evident.
I'd give her that much. My raw physicals were way below hers. I loosened my fists a touch.
My body flowed with her slashing rhythm.
Deflect, steal her tempo, shatter her balance. Her fierce cuts raked only empty air, never touching me.
"Raaagh!"
Her rhythm broken, no clean hits landed. Rage took over as she forcibly drained her reserves.
Keep this up, and she'll get hurt. Time to end it.
"..."
Don't watch the tip. Focus on her body. She moves the sword. Read the body, anticipate the blade.
Now.
My raised hand slapped the flat of her downward swing. The sword flew upward, gut wide open.
"If it hurts, raise your left hand."
Not that it'd change anything.