The assessment site was a massive dome owned by the Hunter Association near the National Assembly.
As far as I knew, before the dome was built, the place had been a large mixed-use shopping complex. But when enormous monsters poured out of a Stage that had failed to be Cleared, it was reduced to ruins.
The story that the Hunter Association had bought the land for a song under the pretext of defending the National Assembly, then built the dome there, was widely known.
A huge crowd had gathered inside.
They were all nineteen-year-old Korean nationals—Awakened who had come here with firm resolve to become Hunters.
“Whoa. How many people are there? I swear every nineteen-year-old in the country is here.”
Lee Hasol came from a remote island village with barely any people. The instant he stepped inside, he let out an awed gasp.
“Probably around five thousand.”
“Gah! That’s insane. So all these people are going to become Hunters now? Korea really is a Hunter powerhouse!”
That was true, but...
Before even a year had passed, fewer than a quarter of them would remain.
Most would realize that life as a Hunter was not nearly as enjoyable as they had imagined. They would tear a Blue Ticket and choose to return to ordinary life.
“But how are they going to assess this many people? Are we doing some kind of tournament? Then how many times do I have to fight to take first place?”
This kid really did not know anything.
Then again, the Association’s recruitment notice did not specifically state what the evaluation criteria or methods would be. It merely said that nineteen-year-old Awakened who had used a Red Ticket after March 1 of the current year were eligible to apply.
Hasol kept staring at the unending stream of people pouring into the dome in amazement.
Then, all at once, he looked at me and asked,
“Kim Daram, why does the Association only recruit nineteen-year-olds? You can Awaken from nineteen onward, but plenty of people Awaken when they’re older too.”
Oh?
That was actually a good question.
“That’s because of a special Stage Korea possesses.”
“A special Stage?”
“Yeah. It’s a Stage that only a handful of countries, including Korea, have. You do know what a Stage is, right?”
“I-I know that much!”
Hasol practically yelped.
A few applicants standing in line nearby looked over, but the dome was so noisy that their attention quickly drifted away.
Anyway, I saw it.
His eyes were shaking all over the place.
The kid did not know jack shit. He clearly had no idea.
“Right, right. As you know, the System intervenes in this world by summoning Stages in various forms or opening Gates. We Hunters aim to Clear those Stages before they fully merge with the world, or shut and seal Gates before they open all the way. Today’s assessment works the same way.”
“After it intervenes, they merge with the world? And we have to Clear a Stage? Today? I don’t know anything yet!”
“Don’t worry. Once you enter the Stage, the System will explain it properly. It’s surprisingly considerate about things like that.”
“Okay. Got it.”
At least he listened well.
Our Hasol had that going for him.
“Anyway, the Stage we’ll be entering today is a conditional virtual-type Stage. It only opens once a year, after a set of specific conditions is met.”
“A conditional virtual-type Stage?”
Hasol made a troubled face.
Hmm. I probably should not have gotten this deep into the explanation...
“Just think of it as a rare Stage, one of only a handful in the world.”
“Mm-hm.”
“This Stage uses a progressive escalation structure... No, people usually just call it a stair-step structure because that’s easier. The higher you go, the more the difficulty and rewards gradually increase.”
“Ah... So things like that exist too. Then it doesn’t end all at once? We have to keep going?”
“Right. Defeat enemies, receive rewards, advance to the next level. Then repeat.”
“What? That’s basically a game.”
“Yeah, it is similar. The enemies get stronger and the rewards improve as you climb, just like in a game. But in reality, most of the rewards from this Stage are useless. Nothing but junk high-grade Hunters would not even glance at.”
Still, there was an incredible Easter egg hidden inside it.
“An Easter egg?”
“Yeah. An Easter egg is a special phenomenon that manifests once certain conditions are met. And this Stage’s Easter egg is that if a nineteen-year-old Awakened clears the Stage within forty-eight hours of Awakening, the quality of the rewards rises dramatically.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s huge. Think of it as a butterfly effect of sorts. The world’s leading Hunter powers all possess similar Stages. So this is both a selection assessment and an early-game booster for promising Korean Hunters. That’s why eligibility is strictly limited to Korean nationals. The ID checks at the entrance were for exactly that reason.”
At that moment, the lights throughout the dome dimmed.
A clean-cut man’s face appeared on a huge screen mounted near the ceiling.
“Ah! That’s Han Seojin!”
He was a face most of the people gathered here knew.
Even Lee Hasol, standing beside me, recognized him.
Hunter Han Seojin.
At the time, he was an absolute idol to teenagers and young adults who dreamed of becoming Hunters.
The fact that he had already risen to A-grade Hunter in his late twenties was more than enough to earn him that status.
Han Seojin smiled faintly from the screen and began to speak.
“To everyone gathered here today to become Hunters, welcome. In a moment, you will enter a special Stage prepared by the Hunter Association for this occasion.”
The murmuring swelled sharply, filling the dome in an instant.
Apparently, far more people than I had thought—like Lee Hasol—had not known that this assessment involved entering a Stage.
As though he had expected that reaction, Han Seojin continued with a gentle smile.
“There is nothing to worry about. This is a Safe-Rated Stage managed by the Association. As long as you follow the instructions, no one will be hurt.”
That was true.
However, casualties occurred every year.
Of course, nothing of the sort was ever made public or reported in the news. The Association’s influence in Korea was enormous.
What Han Seojin said afterward was not much different from what I had already explained to Hasol.
Those applicants who had known about the Easter egg nodded knowingly, while those who had not looked as though they were determined to seize the opportunity before them.
“I hope none of you see today as merely an assessment. Today may become a precious opportunity in your Hunter lives, one that will never come again. I hope you seize it magnificently. I wish every one of you success.”
“WOOOOOO!”
A thunderous cheer erupted in response to Han Seojin’s encouragement.
When I looked beside me, Hasol was yelling too, waving both arms in the air.
A precious opportunity that would never come again...
That was true.
Had I not just told Hasol that this Easter egg was a butterfly effect that had helped turn Korea into a Hunter powerhouse?
Unfortunately, that only applied to a handful of talented people.
No matter how much the quality of the rewards improved, it was meaningless if you could not Clear the Stage.
Let’s be realistic.
The five thousand people gathered here had only Awakened two days ago at most. Most of them probably had never entered a Stage before, much less learned how to use their Traits properly.
How many levels could people like that possibly Clear?
In the end, only those with innate talent like Sa Jeil, or the handful fortunate enough to draw especially powerful Traits, would fully benefit from the Easter egg hidden in the Stage.
Then they would grow and lead Korea’s Hunter world.
“I’m clearing it all the way to the final level!”
Lee Hasol shouted.
Hmm.
No telling how far this guy might get.
*****
“Here I am. You people working hard?”
The door burst open, and a burly elderly man with a white beard entered the spacious control room, whose walls were covered from end to end with CCTV monitors.
The numerous employees seated at their stations, handling the Hunter Selection Assessment, all rose at once and bowed.
“Chairman!”
“Yeah, yeah. Keep working. I only stopped by to show my face.”
The elderly man called Chairman swept his gaze around the control room once, then exited through the same door he had entered from.
A man in a black suit who appeared to be in charge hurried after him.
“Chairman, allow me to accompany you.”
For a while, the two walked silently down the hallway.
“When did you say the Stage opens?”
The Chairman suddenly asked.
“In one hour. Noon sharp.”
The man in the suit answered.
The Chairman rummaged through his pocket and pulled something out.
It was a palm-sized golden key.
He casually tossed it to the man, who caught it while bowing almost reverently.
“Couldn’t you keep this now? How long is an old man supposed to keep going back and forth? I’m tired too, you know.”
The Hunter Association headquarters was located in Gangnam.
There was no way the Chairman, who had even brought a chauffeur with him, found the trip difficult. This was merely the old man’s annual performance of making a show of his burden.
Gu Baeksan, an A-grade Hunter, the Hunter Association’s Director of Operations, and the overall person in charge of the Hunter Selection Assessment, knew that perfectly well.
Gu Baeksan politely handed the key back.
“This key is a treasure of Korea’s Hunter world. Naturally, it should be personally safeguarded by the Chairman. What if enemies attack and try to steal it?”
“Tsk, tsk. How long do you intend to make this old man work?”
“We are always grateful to remain under your protection.”
“Stop it. People will curse at us if they see.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Anyway, where did that Han Seojin brat go? I do not care about anyone else, but he should at least pay his respects to me.”
Gu Baeksan smiled bitterly.
“He completed only his scheduled appearance and left immediately.”
“That money-grubbing bastard. He barely does anything when he comes here, and he still drains the Association for that much money?”
“He is enormously popular among the younger generation. He gave the applicants a great deal of encouragement, so I do not believe we need begrudge him the appearance fee.”
Despite Gu Baeksan’s words, the Chairman did not hide his displeased expression.
Then he suddenly asked,
“Do you think there are any sharp kids among them?”
“There are too many applicants to say yet. We will have to wait for the assessment results. Every top-ranked domestic guild has sent Hunters from its ranks. And this year, Sa Heedo’s son has applied as well.”
“Sa Heedo? That bastard’s son is already nineteen? Fine, how did he look?”
“I only caught a brief glimpse of him, but... Mm. He seemed more vacant than expected. We may need to watch him a little longer.”
“Vacant? The viper’s son cannot possibly be like that...”
*****
Sa Jeil stood in the very front row of the applicants’ formation.
A broad smile lingered on his lips as he stared ahead, when suddenly, like someone waking from a deep sleep, he snapped back to his senses.
What the fuck happened to me?
His memories were intact.
During the fight, he had felt a prick at his neck.
Immediately afterward, he had felt an intense, uncontrollable fondness for Kim Daram.
A firm conviction had taken root inside him—that he would follow anything Kim Daram said.
And he had actually done it.
Meanwhile, Sa Jeil’s original self, curled up deep inside, had watched the entire scene and screamed.
But as though trapped in a dream, his body had moved regardless of his will.
His words, actions, expression, and even his emotions had all been beyond his control.
Kim Daram, was it? Daram... That’s a cute name. No, no, no, that’s not the point, fuuuuuck!
The moment he repeated the bastard’s name, the lingering remnants of that fondness resurfaced.
It was like waking from a deep dream yet being unable to completely escape its afterimage.
This is a false emotion. I don’t know what trick that bastard pulled, but I won’t let him play me anymore. Get a grip, Sa Jeil!
Sa Jeil wrapped himself in killing intent.
To return to his usual cold, ruthless self, he forcibly pulled himself together.
As his killing intent spread through the area, the applicants nearby stepped back to avoid him. Before long, the formation had fallen apart.
When he saw the instructors hurrying over after noticing the disturbance, Sa Jeil withdrew his killing intent.
The nauseating emotions he had felt toward Kim Daram were gone.
All that remained was hatred and killing intent.
You son of a bitch. I’ll kill you.
Sa Jeil looked around.
But Kim Daram was nowhere to be found.
There’s no way I can find that bastard in this chaos. I’ll run into him soon enough. For now, I need to focus on the assessment.
Sa Jeil deliberately shifted his thoughts elsewhere.
He recalled Han Seojin, who had been acting smug on the screen earlier.
As far as Sa Jeil knew, Han Seojin had Cleared the special Stage used for the assessment through Level 13 when he was nineteen.
I can do at least that much.
Sa Jeil’s eyes blazed.
Then the announcement began.
“We will now begin the assessment. All participants must keep the numbered tags attached to their chests and remain where they are. Entry into the Stage will proceed automatically. Further instructions will be provided inside the Stage.”
Blue light began flashing beneath the participants’ feet.
It appeared they would enter the Stage from the exact spots where they stood in formation.
“We wish you all success.”