The Gate's Owner
"Huh? Is this a gate?"
Choi Si-woo, a man in his thirties. An ordinary office worker who had never even dreamed of becoming a hunter—and yet a gate had appeared right in front of him.
Revolution. The dictionary definition of revolution is as follows.
1. Fundamentally overhauling the foundations of a nation, social systems, economic structures, or organizations beyond the scope of constitutional amendments.
2. Overthrowing the previous dynasty and replacing it with another to rule.
3. Shattering old customs, systems, or methods in one fell swoop and rapidly establishing something qualitatively new.
People usually invoke such terms when the world undergoes seismic change. In that sense, this event might just qualify as a revolution.
Gates. Gates appeared in the world.
By now, people have some awareness of this. Not everyone, of course—mainly those who devour genre novels or webtoons would have a rough idea of what a gate entails.
They did emerge into the world, but unlike in novels or webtoons, the gates didn't rupture, spewing monsters everywhere. No such catastrophe unfolded.
Of course, no one can guarantee it won't happen in the future. But over the past five years, it hasn't.
Gates were first reported in 2017. But they didn't immediately become public knowledge.
The inaugural gate appeared in America, the self-proclaimed world's police.
Unlike the gates in novels and webtoons, this one was fixed in a specific location—just like those stories—but it had an owner.
The first gate owner was Adam Sandler, an American soldier. A man of strong adventurous spirit, he prepared thoroughly before venturing inside, or so the story goes.
The fascinating part? Firearms and most machinery simply didn't work within. But there were no restrictions on bringing items in—as long as they didn't exceed the gate's size.
Thus, the first gate was born, and it wasn't a dungeon in the novel or webtoon sense. It was a vast expanse of untouched wilderness, teeming with unknown flora and fauna, rich in resources. And a few rules: Entry required the gate owner's explicit permission. The gate's location was fixed.
America kept it under wraps. But half a year later, gates began popping up worldwide, forcing their hand.
So, what are gates? Step through one, and you enter a world unlike Earth. New plants, animals, resources—all ripe for the taking. Earth plunged into an era worthy of the name revolution.
People call it the Gate Revolution.
Naturally, gate owners' value skyrocketed.
Yet much remains unknown—barely 0.1%, some insist.
The most astonishing revelation? Some who hunted inside gained mysterious powers. They're not quite on par with gate owners' worth, but hunters command top dollar these days.
Gate ownership demands heaven's favor, but becoming a so-called hunter is attainable through effort alone. The catch? Securing first dibs on gate entry.
Five years into the Gate Revolution.
"Above the Creator sits the landlord; above the landlord, the gate owner"—that's become a cliché.
Becoming a gate owner beats hitting the lottery a hundred times over, folks say. Kids dream of becoming hunters nowadays.
But me? I'm just your average office drone.
My company's a solid mid-tier firm—decent pay, good benefits. I dream of clocking in until retirement, plain and simple.
"Hah."
And yet, here it was—a gate, right in front of me.
"Girlfriend dump you today? Or did the wife serve divorce papers? Heh."
I'd need a girlfriend to get dumped, marriage to get divorced. Neither applies.
"Don't these things usually hit after some heartbreak? That's the trope these days, right?"
My one hobby? Reading. Web novels, voraciously. Friends call me a print addict.
"Anyway, a gate, huh."
I dipped my hand toward the rippling portal. It passed through effortlessly.
Proof positive: I'm the owner.
Anyone else? No dice without permission. No one around here could've granted me access.
"It's Friday night. Wanna peek inside?"
Internet's flooded with gate-discovery guides. A print addict like me? I've read 'em all.
"Time to see if this is the real jackpot."
Clock check: 7:34 PM. Fresh off work.
Grabbed the camping and fishing gear I'd bought for my buddy Seon-woo—still unopened, per his request. Made me wonder if I'm a pushover.
"Let's go."
Folks say my best trait is calmness. Strength or flaw? Either way, I rarely panic.
Keeps me cool, rational—assessing myself and situations objectively.
Stepping into the gate, no shock. Just curiosity as I scanned around.
"An... island?"
Not the lottery jackpot, apparently. Islands have expansion limits.
Why? Simple. You can bring stuff in, but a boat? Too unwieldy.
"Lifeboat doable?"
Maybe, but motors won't fire. Rowing across open ocean? No thanks.
"So, second prize? Let's gauge the size first."
The gate loomed where I'd entered—my ticket home, if intel held.
Internet said: Gate out returns to Earth; Earth gates lead here.
"Test the exit?"
Not going home would suck least of all, but better confirm.
Stepped back through. My room. Clocked the time, hopped back in.
"Air's nice, at least."
Good sign. Thin or toxic air? Health hazard city.
"But... how do you even pitch a tent?"
Never done it. Band gig in the army—no tent duty.
Own one now, can't use it.
"Manual's a lifesaver. Pitch this, mull it over."
Complicated thoughts? Focus on one task. Books ideal, but hands-on works.
Tent setup tougher than expected. Spent a full hour engrossed.
Learned tents drive you mad—and my dexterity sucks.
Then—
Dexterity stat unlocked.
Status window unlocked.
"A game now?"
The fabled status window. Gate owners snag it easy; aspiring hunters grind for it.
Only with one are you a "true" hunter.
"Status window."
Skills:Calmness (Passive) Lv. 2
Basic stuff. Freshly unlocked, nothing fancy.
"Top of the class?"
Heard adult male baseline is 10. Agility's lowball, but Intelligence and Spirit shine.
"Never pegged myself as brainy. And Calmness? I've got a skill?"
Some unlock with one already—soldiers get combat jobs. Mine? Calmness, cryptic but obvious. Probably what friends mean by unflappable.
"More skills, the better, right?"
No known limit. Adam Sandler boasts a dozen-plus; maybe more.
"Sword dojo time?"
Diligent kendo yields Swordsmanship. Daggers? Dagger Mastery.
To gain skills, grind relevant actions.
"But... I'm just an office worker?"
What even's the point? No monster apocalypse here—hunters rake cash in stories, but reality? State-leashed supers.
Unchecked powers? Chaos. Entry demands physical and mental clearance. No psycho hunters yet. (Unless they hide it.)
"Gate's no lotto, no beasts lurking... Lifestyle skills it is. Be the office fave."
My gate: island. Modest size—edges visible.
"Decided! Master life skills!"
Full circle: I'm sticking to company man.