The thunderous crash of collapsing buildings reverberated through downtown Seoul.
Choking clouds of dust billowed from every direction, while the heavy stench of blood assaulted the air.
Lee Jin-gu lay sprawled across the cold asphalt.
The shield clutched tightly in his right hand had already split in half and become useless.
A gaping hole had been punched through his abdomen.
Hot blood poured endlessly from the wound.
“Cough!”
Every time he coughed, clots of blood rose through his throat.
He could no longer feel the pain. His nerves had been severed, leaving his body numb.
Darkness was already creeping inward from the edges of his vision.
A large-scale Gate had suddenly collapsed.
Even the hunters from the major guilds had been too busy fleeing for their lives. In the midst of such a catastrophe, there had been nothing an ordinary C-rank hunter like him could do.
All he could do was serve as a human shield, buying time against the monsters’ claws.
That had been Lee Jin-gu’s role.
So this is how it ends.
He had never dreamed of becoming some great hero.
He had only wanted an ordinary life—one where he could sit down and share a proper meal with his family, just like everyone else.
But a hunter’s life always seemed to end in vain.
As the monsters’ roars faded into the distance, familiar faces flashed through Lee Jin-gu’s mind.
The first was his father.
He remembered him lying in the living room every night, groaning in pain.
Even with pain-relief patches plastered across his bent back, he would rise every morning and trudge out the front door toward another construction site.
Next came his mother.
Her sneakers had been worn so thin that the soles were falling apart.
Yet she could never bring herself to throw them away. With her rough hands, she would force a needle through the fabric, stitch them back together, and wear them to her public works job.
And then there was Su-a.
His only younger sister.
The day she secretly tore up the university application she had kept inside her desk drawer, saying she wanted to help pay the installments on her brother’s hunter equipment.
“I’m not cut out for studying. Besides, they say restaurant jobs pay better.”
Her face as she forced herself to smile remained vivid before his eyes.
Why did I do it?
Why hadn’t he abandoned his foolish dream of becoming a hunter sooner?
If he had understood his limitations and taken an ordinary job at a factory or logistics center, he might at least have lightened his family’s burden.
His greed—his worthless pride—had dragged his entire family into misery.
Regret and guilt, far more agonizing than the fear of death, overwhelmed him.
Tears slipped from Lee Jin-gu’s unfocused eyes and ran down his blood-soaked cheeks.
Just one more chance.
If he were ever given another opportunity...
He would never live so helplessly again.
Never again would he leech off his family while chasing an empty dream.
With that desperate, agonizing vow, Lee Jin-gu’s consciousness sank into a profound darkness.
Everything went black.
***
“Ticket number 142, Lee Jin-gu! Are you coming in or not?”
An irritated voice blared through a microphone and struck his eardrums.
Lee Jin-gu’s eyes snapped open.
The suffocating stench of blood was gone. In its place, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled his lungs.
“Gasp! Haa...!”
He sucked in a frantic breath and shot upright.
Then he hurriedly felt his abdomen.
“What...?”
There was nothing there.
The horrific wound that had threatened to spill his intestines onto the ground had vanished without a trace. Even his clothes were completely dry.
He stared around himself in a daze.
There were no collapsing skyscrapers and no monster corpses.
All he saw were white walls and rows of plastic chairs.
It was the worn-out waiting room of the Hunter Association’s First Examination Center.
“Ticket number 142! Is Lee Jin-gu not here? If you don’t come in after one more call, we’re moving on to the next number!”
Beyond the reception desk, an employee holding a microphone glared into the waiting room with a deep frown.
Lee Jin-gu’s gaze moved past the employee and landed on the large electronic calendar hanging on the wall.
The date glowed in red numbers.
It was exactly ten years ago.
The very day he had first come to take his hunter awakening examination at the age of twenty.
“What in the world...?”
The sensations of his approaching death had been so vivid, yet the reality before him was unbearably peaceful.
The contrast made his head spin. Lee Jin-gu covered his face with both hands.
This was not a dream.
The warmth of his palms against his cheeks felt far too real.
The miraculous realization that he had returned to the past struck him like a bolt of lightning.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart began pounding madly.
Ten years ago.
That meant his father had not yet collapsed from overworking himself.
His mother had not yet lost her health, and Su-a was still a high school student.
The family he had failed to protect—the time he had regretted so bitterly—had been returned to him.
Relief and elation surged through him, and Lee Jin-gu clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
“Oh, come on. Is number 142 here or not?”
Just as the thoroughly annoyed employee was about to slam the microphone down, Lee Jin-gu sprang to his feet and raised his hand.
“I-I’m here!”
The employee looked him up and down before jerking his chin impatiently.
“Then hurry inside. Can’t you see how many people are waiting behind you?”
“I’m sorry.”
Lee Jin-gu quickly entered the examination room.
At its center stood a cylindrical mana-measuring device as tall as a person.
“Place your palm against the center of the machine and hold still for five seconds.”
The employee suppressed a yawn as he gave the instructions indifferently. From the way he stared blankly at the monitor, it was obvious he had grown exhausted from repeating the same procedure all day.
Lee Jin-gu approached the machine.
Memories of the past surfaced in his mind.
His twenty-year-old self had believed this single examination would change his life.
He remembered placing a trembling hand against the device and praying desperately.
How foolish he had been.
But the Lee Jin-gu of the present felt no nervousness at all.
Calmly, he placed his right hand on the measuring panel.
Whirrr—
The machine hummed as blue light enveloped it.
A reading immediately appeared on the monitor atop the employee’s desk.
The employee narrowed his eyes at the screen before announcing the result in a dry voice.
“Mana capacity: twelve.”
It was exactly the number Lee Jin-gu had expected.
“Bottom-tier. F-rank.”
The employee tapped several keys, pulled a sheet of paper from the printer, and held it out to him.
“You can receive the basic equipment subsidy by submitting the necessary documents at the information desk on the first floor. Next, number 143.”
Lee Jin-gu accepted the result sheet and turned away. As he did, he heard the reactions of those peering in from the waiting room.
“Mana capacity of twelve? Wow, that’s seriously low.”
“With F-rank stats, shouldn’t he just work as a porter? Did he really come here expecting to become a hunter?”
“Tsk, tsk. Poor kid.”
Some spoke with pity, while others whispered with open contempt.
Ten years ago, the result would have made Lee Jin-gu’s face burn bright red. He would have lowered his head in despair, feeling as though his entire world had collapsed.
He had loudly announced to everyone in his neighborhood that he would become a hunter, only to be classified as F-rank. The humiliation and resentment had driven him to spend several nights drowning himself in alcohol.
But the current Lee Jin-gu’s expression did not change.
He simply nodded calmly.
His F-rank classification was identical to the one he had received in the past. Returning through time had not suddenly caused his innate mana to explode or awakened him as an S-rank hunter.
That was only natural.
It doesn’t matter.
He had no intention of becoming a hero anyway.
Joining a major guild and risking his life to close Gates was a job best left to others.
Lee Jin-gu’s mind was packed with the survival knowledge he had accumulated while clawing his way up from the bottom during ten years as a C-rank hunter.
Monster behavior, ways to exploit the terrain inside Gates, methods of setting traps, and—most importantly—how to survive in the field.
With that knowledge, even his F-rank mana would not prevent him from earning money.
He could take the low-ranked requests everyone else ignored and avoided.
The pay might be meager, but as long as he steadily gathered small jobs that posed little risk to his life, he could easily earn enough to support his family.
Without hesitation, Lee Jin-gu folded the result sheet in half and shoved it into his pocket.
***
The moment he opened the examination-room door and stepped outside—
Bzzzt—
Lee Jin-gu’s vision suddenly distorted.
“Huh?”
A short exclamation escaped him.
The entire world fell silent, as though time itself had stopped. Then a translucent blue system window materialized in the empty air before him.
Lee Jin-gu froze.
He stared blankly at the window.
This had never happened ten years ago. In fact, throughout his entire decade as a hunter, he had believed personal system windows like this were exclusive to top-ranked hunters.
A single line of text appeared clearly across his vision.
[The special skill Trace Collection has been activated.]
It was an unfamiliar and peculiar skill name.
Trace Collection.
He could not immediately understand what kind of ability it represented.
Yet Lee Jin-gu instinctively knew.
This was his true second chance.
Something granted to him alongside the miracle of regression.
As he quietly read the words displayed on the window, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
I won’t chase empty dreams like I did before.
He would no longer envy the dazzling equipment wielded by major guild hunters and trail desperately after them.
He would no longer show off by entering hunting grounds far beyond his abilities, only to tremble in terror once he was inside.
He would never make such foolish mistakes again.
Lee Jin-gu lightly shook his head and dismissed the window.
The blue light scattered, and his vision returned to normal.
The waiting room was still filled with the tense breathing of the next examinees.
Without looking back, he headed toward the Association’s main entrance.
First, I should improve tonight’s dinner.
Some pork shoulder, Su-a’s favorite.
And a pot of soft tofu stew for his father.
To buy those things, he needed to find work immediately.
He swiftly reviewed the requests that should have been posted on the Association’s job board that day.
The lowest-paying assignment—the one most hunters avoided because it was filthy and reeked.
I’ll start by exterminating sewer rats.
Ten rat monsters would easily earn him enough for the meat.
Lee Jin-gu passed through the automatic doors and stepped into the sunlight.
His eyes were calm and resolute.
He would survive in his own way—as safely and reliably as possible.
Without the slightest hesitation, he set off toward the outskirts of the city.