A Deal with Precognition
Seoul Hunter Academy.
It was South Korea’s finest institution for training Hunters—the premier academy representing the nation.
You could learn directly from an S-rank Hunter, someone who turned grandiose phrases like “humanity’s strongest” into plain fact.
Or, if you beat odds more absurd than winning the lottery, you might enter one of Murim’s notoriously secretive martial sects as a disciple.
But if you were merely an awakened individual with talent and none of those guaranteed opportunities for education and development, then there was only one place you absolutely had to go.
That was just how exceptional Seoul Hunter Academy was.
Because it wasn’t simply a school. Hunter academies were among the most critical pillars of national policy.
And that policy wasn’t unique to Korea. It was the same all over the world.
Clear the dungeons beyond the Gates before they became a threat.
Then use the wealth gained from that—Mana Stones, monster byproducts, and other resources—to sustain the civilization built on mana.
At the root of everything stood one thing:
Hunters.
Only Hunters—those who had awakened and could wield mana to perform superhuman feats—were capable of clearing Gates.
Earth’s scientific civilization could not pass through them.
Guns couldn’t.
Communication devices couldn’t.
The proud products of humanity’s science broke down and became useless the instant they crossed a Gate.
Humanity, unable to rely on scientific weapons, was powerless before monsters stronger than wild beasts.
Which meant that if they wanted to clear the Gates before they turned into disasters, and secure the resources that formed the foundation of mana civilization, they had no choice but to train Hunters.
Hunters who could wield transcendent power through mana.
In this era, Hunters were national power. More than anything else, they were the talent that mattered most.
To prevent gifted future Hunters from leaking overseas, to cultivate them, to strengthen national power—pouring enormous budgets into related educational institutions was only natural.
The countries that hadn’t done so—or couldn’t—had either collapsed into conditions little better than colonies, or perished outright.
Those examples were enough to ensure that, at least in this field, no one dared be stingy with funding.
And so, on the day applications opened for the entrance exam, countless talented youths gathered in front of Seoul Hunter Academy.
The barrage of camera flashes from the reporters who had come to film them was blinding.
Step.
Kim Seonwoo walked away with the academy’s shining front gate at his back.
Slowly, in the body of someone who had no place there.
Farther and farther, until the dazzling noise began to feel like something from another world.
His destination was a quiet road far removed from the main entrance of Seoul Hunter Academy.
When he reached a narrow alley branching off a fairly clean, broad street, Seonwoo stopped and waited.
Sss—
And then he saw it.
The luxury sedan he had been waiting for—though the waiting had been entirely one-sided—gliding silently toward him.
Without hesitation, he stepped into the middle of the road.
He stopped with enough distance that the driver wouldn’t have to slam the brakes.
Thunk.
He spread both arms wide and blocked the way.
Sss—
Thud!
...!
At the same instant, an icy chill tightened around his throat, and his heart lurched hard in his chest.
It felt as though dozens of blades had been aimed at his neck, ready to stab him at any moment.
He couldn’t see them.
But outstanding Hunters—people far beyond what Seonwoo in his current state should have been able to sense—had released their killing intent toward him.
It was exactly what would happen if someone tried to attack an important national figure: bodyguards would pin them down like this.
Countless oppressive presences wound around him.
And in truth, the person riding in that luxury sedan really was someone of that level.
Step. Step.
A particularly exceptional Hunter, one of the guards who had gotten out of the sedan, strode straight toward Seonwoo.
Before the man could act, Seonwoo forced the words out.
He had to squeeze every ounce of strength out of himself just to keep his voice from trembling.
“I came to sell my skill.”
“...Hm?”
Fortunately, the one Seonwoo had come for reacted.
The bodyguard didn’t lower his guard, but he did stop in place.
And then—
With a faint rustle, the person protected by all those high-rank Hunters revealed herself.
She was a girl with a bright, flawless smile.
A smile like the sun itself.
And on top of that, she had the kind of beauty that made it impossible for anyone not to look.
The kind of beauty that genuinely left you dazed the moment you saw it.
Still wearing that radiant smile, the girl spoke.
“I don’t usually buy just any skill. What kind of skill are you here to sell?”
She was—
“...I can see the future.”
One of the companions in Goddess Saga who was always counted among the very best by players.
A friend, too.
Kang Han-na, the youngest daughter of Changseong Group.
Changseong Group.
In the world of Goddess Saga, it was a global corporation and guild that represented Korea.
And though Seonwoo hadn’t even awakened, he now found himself stepping into one of the guild houses belonging to that very Changseong Group.
Click.
A layered cut hairstyle that had clearly been shaped by one of Korea’s top designers.
Click.
Clothes without a single visible logo, yet so refined that even an amateur could tell they were beyond comparison to ordinary luxury brands.
Click.
Following behind the girl who made all of it seem so natural as to be unremarkable.
Her name was Kang Han-na.
The youngest granddaughter of the chairman of Changseong Group, the youngest daughter of its vice chairman, and a gifted awakened individual overflowing with talent.
After graduating from the academy, she would earn an A-rank on her very first Hunter exam and never once lose her place as one of the strongest members of the protagonist’s party.
She was the sort of person whose very aura made it obvious that she belonged to a higher realm.
She smiled brightly, without a trace of darkness, yet something about her made people instinctively tread carefully around her.
And yet Seonwoo, walking a step behind her, was smiling with genuine delight.
As if he had just reunited with a precious friend he hadn’t seen in a very long time—someone so dear that even the passing of ages could never dull that bond.
...Huh.
That was why Kang Han-na, walking one step ahead, found herself growing more interested in him.
It wasn’t that she looked down on people. Objectively speaking, Seonwoo was not someone who should have been capable of treating her like this.
Even if she herself had no intention of creating distance, society’s hierarchy inevitably did that on its own. Experience had taught her that many times over.
And yet—
What was this atmosphere around him?
It wasn’t an act. That was what made it stranger. He truly behaved as though this were the most natural thing in the world.
For a moment, she almost wondered if perhaps he was some childhood friend she had once treasured and lost in some tragedy, someone she had merely forgotten.
...Of course, that was impossible.
Kang Han-na had been born with dazzling talent, and she remembered her childhood clearly.
Which meant this really was their first meeting.
And that only made Seonwoo’s manner all the more intriguing.
She slid into her seat.
“All right. Let’s hear it.”
The moment they sat facing each other on the sofa, she brought them straight to the point.
“Sure. As much as you like.”
Even sitting across from her, Seonwoo’s attitude didn’t change.
If anything, his face looked even friendlier as he nodded.
As her curiosity continued to grow, Kang Han-na said,
“You were waiting there specifically to meet me?”
“Yes. I mean—yes.”
“And you foresaw that I’d pass through that road at that exact time?”
“Yes.”
“...Interesting. The skill you want to sell me is precognition.”
In this age, awakened humans could possess something called a Skill.
Among them were people whose abilities weren’t just techniques, but something uniquely their own—something extraordinary enough to define them completely.
Precognition. Really?
Precognition.
To put it grandly, the man sitting before her claimed to possess a skill that let him see the future.
I saw the future, and I waited there in order to meet you.
That was what he was saying.
And she had sensed something genuinely unusual in him—enough to trust her instincts and bring him here.
The very moment she finished submitting her application for the entrance exam, she arranged a place for them to talk.
If what Seonwoo claimed was true, it would shake not just Korea, but the entire world.
The ability to see the future.
It was the sort of power anyone might imagine easily enough, yet one that had never, not once, actually appeared.
That was right.
An ability like Precognition had never once emerged in all of history.
Foreseeing the future did not belong to the realm of man. At most, it came in limited form through divine revelations.
Only a Saintess of the Latea Order, who served the goddess, might receive a revelation from the gods and utter a single line of prophecy under strict conditions.
And an ordinary human claimed he could do that?
The proof Seonwoo offered was the fact that he had known she would take that road at that time today.
And again, this wasn’t about looking down on him. It was simply an objective fact: someone in Seonwoo’s position should never have had access to such information.
That was why they were having this conversation now.
“Can you see anything you want?”
Seonwoo immediately shook his head.
“No. I can’t see everything. It’s actually very limited.”
“Except for a few special cases, I can only see certain things. But those certain things will definitely be useful.”
He had thought this through beforehand, which was why the answer came so smoothly.
Yes.
He had planned all of this.
After much thought, Seonwoo had come to clearly understand that his greatest weapon was his knowledge of the future.
He knew the future necessary to reach the happy ending.
The problem was that even with that knowledge, he had no way to make use of it alone.
In that case...
He simply had to borrow the strength of someone who could make use of that future.
Fortunately, he had a friend and companion perfectly suited for that role.
Kang Han-na.
The youngest granddaughter of the chairman of Changseong Group, and one of the most powerful companions in Goddess Saga.
She had money, status, and ability in equal measure.
On top of that, she was kind-hearted, bright, and surrounded by good people rather than warped ones.
The Changseong Group, the power backing her, was likewise one of the story’s benevolent forces and a great help to the protagonist.
I can start from here.
Kim Seonwoo was so weak that he couldn’t even apply for the Hunter Academy exam.
Which meant he couldn’t become a Hunter, and couldn’t lead the story himself.
He could use Restart again and again—but each time, his body would reset too, meaning that if things continued this way, he would only repeat tragedy forever.
So then, he would change his approach.
Instead of beginning as the protagonist, he would begin from the position of a supporter.
He would guide the story from one step back, steering away from plotlines that led straight to bad endings if ignored.
He would point the way forward so that his precious companions and friends could reach the happy ending.
And the first step in that plan was to build a relationship with Kang Han-na.
She was a central figure in the story, a person of enormous influence.
If he could establish a proper connection with her, then even Seonwoo as he was now would be able to interfere deeply in the story.
I can reach the happy ending.
Seonwoo was certain of it, and he met Kang Han-na’s gaze with fierce intensity.
...He has good eyes.
Feeling unexpectedly favorable toward that gaze, Kang Han-na spoke.
“All right. If your precognition is real, then from our perspective this would be a deal we’d welcome with open arms. But—”
The brightness vanished from her expression, and her face turned serious.
“That only comes after you prove that what you call precognition is unquestionably real.”
Seonwoo didn’t flinch at the shift in her tone.
He had expected this too. In fact, he had been waiting for it.
He nodded.
“Yes. That’s right. We need to proceed only after I prove it beyond doubt.”
And because he had prepared for exactly this, he spoke first.
“Do you happen to know Beomho Development?”