Back to the Tower

Anyway, after running all sorts of tests like that, about three days had passed.

"It's really such a shame. Even if we cram mana into it, three days is the limit."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"And seeing how it took a full three days to completely repair something on the level of an armored vehicle, if a tank or something bigger gets wrecked, we'll probably have to brace for at least a week."

"Can't be helped, unfortunately."

"Hmm, indeed."

Having wrapped up those long, drawn-out tests, I received Section Chief Sin Chang-seok's send-off—still grumbling about how we couldn't secure anything bigger or more powerful—and headed home. I figured it was about time to check out the Tower again after so long.

Of course, I wasn't thrilled about failing to absorb active military gear like the K-5 Black Tiger tank or the AH-86 Super Apache, just as the section chief said. But what could I do about it?

As I'd mentioned before, if this didn't work, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only option left would've been raiding an army base outright... which wasn't happening.

"Still, someday I'll make sure you absorb Korea's one and only aircraft carrier and aerial battleship. Don't you worry!"

"Whoa..."

I had no idea where a mere section chief—not even the bureau director—got that confidence, but his "I can do it, believe in me!" vibe was intense.

Plus, given the Hunter Management Bureau's ethos of sacrificing for humanity, even back when I was a clueless civilian, the military often lent or deployed armored vehicles at hunters' requests.

So, no need to get antsy right now. I nodded along, figuring it was time to bow out like an adult.

Besides, what he'd just said was all about the future of Korea, not the present.

"Oh, and the military says they can't provide more gear, so no need to come in for tests anytime soon!"

"So that's it? Wait, does that mean I have to return everything I've absorbed...?"

"I figured you'd ask eventually. The gear you've absorbed is all yours now."

"Oh! Ooh."

"To be precise, it's just the equipment from the bureau that was used in these tests. Nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like that from now on."

"Wait, you can just hand this stuff over?"

A quick search online showed these pieces of kit added up to tens of billions of won easy.

Hearing they'd just give it all away for free(?) made my inner salaryman senses tingle with suspicion.

But that passed quickly.

"Well, you're planning to keep working at the bureau, right, Hunter Kim Saeron?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah?"

"The government and bureau invested assuming you'd stick with us. Of course, you could go independent, no problem..."

"...But then I'd have to pay full price for all this gear, right?"

"We're not total monsters—we won't force it. And considering your sense of responsibility as a hunter, we're doing half-price sale."

"Still tens of billions, though?"

"Heh heh, not a bad deal from your end, I think."

"Fair enough."

They were collaring me in true adult fashion—dripping about how it was all "to help"—but since I could sell potions if needed and this meant legit access to more military hardware down the line, I nodded in satisfaction. Good enough.

And with that, after tying up loose ends, I finally made it home.

"...I just went in hoping for an A-rank promotion, but somehow I ended up S-rank."

Having rocketed to official S-rank hunter way faster than expected, I tilted my head, wondering if this was real.

But whatever the reason, the bureau saw me as S-rank—or at least on that trajectory. Their call, not mine. No point stressing it.

Plus, during those three days of tests, they'd mentioned something else.

So, no more secrecy. I updated my Tower records from the blank up to floor 12 to my community handle, FirepowerLover, and fired up the site to drop an auth shot.

And wouldn't you know it, reactions poured in right away.

"Kuh huh huh."

The dopamine rush from my cyber-ghost life had me nodding in satisfaction.

Time to hit the Tower—I'd skipped it during tests anyway. And even after posting that auth...

"Faithless fools."

Hunters doubting it as "fake" were popping up everywhere. No sitting still—this called for blasting through floor 13 for real proof.

I checked the post just that far, closed the app, and dove straight into the Tower.

"...Hold up. The rankings already show the nick change, so it'd be obvious anyway."

During the Tower's usual entry delay to a new floor, the thought bubbled up.

Remembering the community wasn't just some site but some magic-tech mashup, I couldn't shake the feeling that suspicious hunter wasn't doubting me—they were just nudging me to get climbing already.