Shield that Blocks Bullets

Anyway, after dragging myself home one way or another, I figured there was no rush to dive into the Tower right away. To shake off the fatigue from all that testing, I took a thorough shower in the bathroom of my monk-cell-like, barren studio apartment. Then I crashed on my budget mattress for some sweet sleep, woke up refreshed, and headed straight to the Hunter Measurement Center next to City Hall to snag some decent rental items...

"Items, you say?"

"Yeah, the guy who was here yesterday said something good would be available if I came this morning..."

"They're all gone already. If anyone really needs them, they pitch tents and wait from the crack of dawn."

"Whoa."

Hearing that hunters—actual hunters—were lining up with tents before sunrise like they were scalping limited-edition figures, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disbelief and mild despair. I vented by posting a whiny thread on the community forums.

And as the comments started rolling in, it hit me: maybe the 'old-timers' on the Hunter community were all mid-to-high rankers who had no clue about the daily grind of us lowlifes scraping by? Or perhaps it was just ancient history, and no one these days would bother with open-run rushes for government rentals anyway.

"Those bastards are only useless when you actually need them..."

I nodded along, seeing the classic Hunter community trope in action—famous for being utterly unhelpful right when it matters. But that didn't last long. Truth was, no one here needed to risk their neck for crappy government rentals, so they skipped the open-runs. And sure enough, folks who'd been through the same grind started sharing their own efficient hacks soon after.

Seeing them drop real advice like that, I nodded and immediately bought 50 Awakening Pills for 50,000 won total, then headed home.

Back home, I packed my bag with the Awakening Pills, assorted emergency rations, and water. Along with the must-have Infinite Magazine (B-rank), I psyched myself up for some trigger-happy fun inside the Tower after a three-day break.

Of course, before entering, I wanted to double-check the Hardcore 6th floor difficulty, so I hit up the community for a quick search.

Ignoring the jabs at my concept, everyone was just venting about 'goblin shamans'—no one else. And on the crucial 'so how do you deal with it?', it was basically 'just beat 'em down yourself!'

Thinking the community was useless in the weirdest ways, I shook off the distractions and stepped into the Tower.

Maybe because I'd been mulling over all that noise while shrouded in total darkness at home before teleporting in, about 2-3 seconds passed.

"A real shaman shows up."

With all the brainrot warnings from vets—me being a week-old rookie hunter on day two of official status—I eyed the webtoon-style pop-up warily. Wondering how these enemies would play out, a mix of excitement and tension bubbled up, unlike before.

Checking my status window, I prepped my max-firepower minigun and crept through the cave-like Tower interior...

Soon, in a slightly wider spot, I spotted the monsters from the window: a goblin shaman in Indian-like garb, surrounded by a goblin horde.

Judging it probably had ranged attacks, or curses/magic I couldn't counter, or—as the community said—a 'shield' for turtling, I decided...

"First shot wins!!"

The moment I saw them, I aimed the minigun barrel I'd manifested on my arm at the goblins and unleashed a preemptive barrage of 20mm rounds, just like always.

And as if confirming my hunch, the goblin shaman muttered something and erected a hemispherical translucent barrier over itself and the goblins.

Made me think maybe Hardcore lived up to its name, with 20mm already treating normals like chumps.

But since I'd anticipated that, while aiming the minigun, I yanked a fistful of Awakening Pills from my bag—didn't count, but over 30?—shoved them in my mouth, chomped down, and dumped all 50 loaded 20mm rounds in an opening max-firepower salvo.

-BRRRRRRTTT!

-CRASH!

-...PBBBT!

"Huh?"

-Ding!

That super-tough-looking translucent barrier shattered like tissue-thin glass the instant the 20mm hit—total garbage.

Meanwhile, my Awakening Pills (over 30?) ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meant only about 15 rounds wasted on floors, walls, ceiling— the rest clustered decently central, turning goblins and wolves into a pile of meat chunks and blood.

As that happened, the status window popped up with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the 'you're done' verdict.

At this point, I started wondering if the community's vague warnings were just because it wasn't actually that hard.