The Evaluation Corridor
The alarm blared, signaling the path to D-rank. Cold air seeped through the gap in the window. It was drier than usual, but familiar. Wash up, underlayer, bag, gear check. My hands moved first, thoughts following. Today was evaluation day. Still, it felt no different from the usual “daily inspection.” I closed my eyes on the subway and opened them at my stop. Reception desk, ticket number, cold corridor. The familiar sequence unfolded.
“Byun Jihoon-ssi, we will begin the control ability assessment.” The examiner’s voice was mechanical. As the sensor wrapped around my wrist, I thought, D-rank evaluation is just a slow jog. No need to speed up.
After sitting, a one-minute static measurement. My pulse dropped from 74 to 68. Blood pressure normal. I inhaled through my nose and exhaled long through my mouth, syncing only my breathing rhythm. The treadmill began to turn.
“Stage 1, speed 7.5.” Most people’s breathing would rise here, but my rhythm stayed steady. “Stage 2, speed 9.0.” I converted the impact on my soles into rebound. Upper body fixed. I deliberately let out one large breath—an act of looking strained. “Stage 3, speed 10.5.” Heart rate 122, body temperature stable. Healthy fatigue. Passable. The equipment’s numbers flowed into my ears. I maintained pace until the examiner finished typing.
“End. Recovery breathing for 30 seconds.” I inhaled deeply three times and exhaled in four parts. My heart rate stabilized quickly. I panted once more on purpose. The act continued.
“Moving on to the strength test. D-rank lower limit.” When I gripped the metal bar, the machine vibrated. The bar felt light, but I lifted it slowly, pretending to strain my arms while slightly contorting my expression. The machine let out a creaking resistance sound. The examiner noted the number.
“Pass. You looked a bit strained.”
“Yes, that was my limit.” I said that, but I could have lifted it with one hand.
“Agility test. Evasion pattern stage 3.” Red bars shot out from the wall. I lowered my shoulders and twisted my hips. The bar sliced only air. The second strike came faster than expected. Before the impact line arrived, I shifted my weight to the outer edge of my sole. Pivot. “Miss” flashed on the wall. The examiner tilted his head.
“Speed adjustment… the sensor was a beat late.”
“I’m a little fast.” A short laugh. Next item.
“This is the telekinesis control test. D-rank standard: 140 kilograms.” A metal sphere rose into the air, its surface reflecting the lights. I raised my fingertips. The surrounding air seemed to gather as if pressed. The noise cut off for an instant. I first secured the pressure line, then loaded the weight. The sphere rose smoothly. My fingertips trembled slightly—that was the act. In reality, the circulation was already locked. The pressure flow was stable.
“Maintain for 10 seconds.” I counted three, six, nine in my head, then ten. The sphere did not waver. My gaze stayed fixed on my thumbnail, not the sphere.
“Descend.” I lowered the sphere slowly. Five centimeters before it touched the ground, I set the acceleration to zero. It landed without impact sound. The examiner’s pen stopped.
“Stability good. Response excellent. Minimal deviation.” I caught my breath and removed the wrist sensor. The heat still lingered at my fingertips. If I just maintain this pace, D-rank is safe. No need to push higher.
“Hah, maybe I was nervous. Tougher than I thought.” The examiner spoke without looking up from the monitor.
“That’s how D-rank is.” I smirked inwardly. At C-rank standards, this was just a warm-up.
When I stepped into the corridor, the cold air touched my body. No more need to act. The pressure at my fingertips remained steady.
“At this level, it’s convincingly D-rank on the surface.” The words slipped out. My phone vibrated—the signal returning to reality. The message screen showed Baek Sorin’s name.
A pinwheel emoji floated at the end of the chat window. I chuckled and turned off the screen. At the end of the quiet corridor, the number display above the document issuance counter showed “25.” When my number was called, I stood and walked to the counter. Beyond the transparent barrier, the staff spoke without looking up.
“Byun Jihoon-ssi, your D-rank reclassification has been confirmed.”
“Yes.” The staff slid over the documents and explained in a monotone voice, “Re-evaluation is in 12 months. Along with the result sheet, a military exemption notice will also be issued.”
“The exemption document is issued together?”
“Yes, automatic exemption applies from Hunter rank D and above. Administrative processing begins as of today.”
“Understood. Thank you.”
“Ah… yes. Thank you.”
“Please sign the confirmation.” I picked up the pen and wrote my name in the signature field. A short “thud” of the stamp followed. The staff handed over the documents.
“Congratulations on your rank promotion and military exemption.”
“Haha, that’s the happiest phrase in the world. Better than tax cuts.”
“Haha, hearing you say that makes it feel real.”
“Everyone prefers the military exemption more.”
I folded the documents in half and tucked them into the front pocket of my bag. Papers like these felt safer folded. If left open, they might draw unwanted glances. As I left the document counter, the automatic door slid open with a soft “whoosh.” The air outside was noticeably different. The sunlight was warm, and I lightly suppressed the energy trying to react at my fingertips. That was enough for today.
On the way to the branch, my phone rang. “Jihoon-ssi.” It was Team Leader Yoo Mira’s voice.
“Ah, Team Leader. I just came out.”
“Good work. First evaluation must have been nerve-wracking, right?”
“The physical test was tougher than I expected.”
“Everyone says that. Still, glad you passed.” Her tone carried a natural laugh. “For today’s report, just summarize the results and key items briefly.”
“Yes, understood.”
“I’ll keep this week’s schedule a bit relaxed. When the new equipment arrives next week, let’s test it together.”
“Sounds good. Thank you.”
“Good work. See you later.” After hanging up, the lingering warmth of her softened voice remained. My shoulders felt lighter for no reason. I slipped the phone into my pocket and turned lightly. Dungeon thoughts crossed my mind, but I decided to set them aside for today. The sunlight was warm, the breeze languid. It felt like a “normal day of living” after a long time.
Back at the Uijeongbu Northern Branch, I received rice and soup at the cafeteria and sat by the window. Steam rose from the bowl, carrying the aroma of the soup. Each time the spoon touched the bowl, a soft “clink” spread gently. A sip of broth, a bite of rice. The temperature and saltiness were just right. That’s what “adequate” meant.
Soon after, Oh Jaehoon hyung arrived with his tray and sat across from me.
“From your expression, it went well.”
“Yes. Passed D-rank. Right on the edge of the threshold.”
“Even the lower limit is a pass. From F to D in a year and a half is pretty fast.”
“True. Still, I can finally catch my breath now.” Oh Jaehoon hyung smiled as he stirred his soup.
“This is where it really begins. Dungeons speak more through experience than rank.” The steam slowly dispersed. Those words felt strangely warmer than the soup.
“I just endured. This one really took a long time.”
“But you finished it.” Jaehoon hyung picked up half a piece of kimchi with his chopsticks and pushed it toward me. “Eat. On days like this, you need to carb-load.” I smiled and placed the kimchi on my rice.
“This is enough. Anyway, I’m officially an exempt person now.”
“Ah, that. Military exemption confirmed?”
“Yes. Administrative processing started today.”
“Nice. Finally recognized by the country as a ‘useful civilian.’”
“Well, now I’ll be entering dungeons instead of the military.”
“That’s more dangerous. Still, congratulations. You’ve really stepped up as an investigator now.”
“Thanks, hyung.” Jaehoon hyung chuckled and twirled his spoon.
“Now I’ve got a rival. A junior at D-rank.”
“You’re already C-rank. No comparison.”
“Rank isn’t everything. Enduring in the field is real skill.” His tone was light, but it carried a solid sense of reality. Strangely, that comforted me. The steam from the soup rose again. Sunlight from the window stretched across the table. I picked up my spoon and smiled faintly.
“I can finally catch my breath now.”
“Catch it while you can. You’ll be back in the field soon enough.”
“Probably. Still, the food tastes good today.”
“Then that’s all that matters. When it tastes good, just eat.” Our laughter blended naturally into the cafeteria noise. The soup was hot, and that warmth was certain.
After finishing the meal and returning to the office, the corridor lights turned on at regular intervals, illuminating the way. I sat down and organized today’s records. Equipment checklist, evaluation results, re-evaluation schedule. It was the usual repeated procedure, but today my fingertips felt strangely light. For a year and a half, I had endured dozens of dungeons. There were days I stood in the back avoiding danger, and days that ended with just clearing debris. But now it was different. From today, I had the qualification to stand in the front line as a proper member of the team.
I stared at the report numbers on the monitor. Before, they were just statistics. Now they were different. They were the time I had passed through and the traces I had endured. Worked like a proper investigator. That single phrase slowly settled in my heart. My fingertips trembled slightly. Not from fatigue, but closer to tension toward what came next. I closed the file. The records were organized, and from tomorrow, it would be D-rank schedules. I turned off the light and picked up my bag.
“Now it really begins. This time, I’ll endure from the front line.” With those words, I wrapped up the day.
Morning, meeting room. When Team Leader Yoo Mira turned on her tablet, the wall screen lit up brightly. The five members of Team 3 naturally turned their gazes to the screen.
“This week is external support.” Her voice was steady as usual. “At the request of the Gangwon Branch, we’re being deployed to the Chuncheon E-05 Gate. Departure is this morning.” A chair back shifted slightly on one side.
“It’s a business trip. Is there a reason?”
“Gangwon Branch’s Investigation Team 2 has been deployed to suppress a higher-grade dungeon rampage. With the vacancy, we’re filling in.” The air in the meeting room grew a little heavier.
“So in the end, we’re handling someone else’s work.” Team Leader Yoo Mira continued while flipping the screen. “The official mission is on-site investigation and residual mana measurement. Secondary mission is stabilization support. One person from the Gangwon Branch in charge will join us on-site.” I scanned the materials and asked,
“The guild cleanup team is excluded?”
“Yes. They’re concentrating forces on the higher-grade lines, so E-rank zones have been pushed back.” A slightly rough breath fell onto the table.
“So we have to consider combat as well.”
“That’s possible.” The team leader opened the equipment list. “Today we’re taking six mana stone bombs, one spare. Three synthetic sword sets, full set of sensors. Pack more equipment than usual.”
“Understood.” The sound of someone taking notes continued quietly on one side.
“Equipment check will be finished by morning.”
“Good. Departure at exactly 10 a.m. Gather at the parking lot 20 minutes prior.” Baek Sorin fixed her tablet with her fingertips and looked up.
“Team Leader, is there separate lodging?”
“No. We’ll proceed with the investigation right near the site.” A short silence filled the meeting room. Today was a business trip—and real fieldwork.
The H-Van’s trunk was open in the parking lot. The equipment I had organized the day before was systematically arranged. Six mana stone bombs, four sensor sets, spare batteries, synthetic swords, spare daggers, supply box, emergency repair kit. Each piece of equipment had a clear “inspection complete” tag. I reviewed the list again and closed the trunk. The locking mechanism gave a short metallic sound. The driver’s side door opened and a voice came through.
“From Uijeongbu to Chuncheon, it’s a little over two hours. I’ll drive.”
“Good. Let’s go without stopping in between.” From the rear cargo area came the sound of equipment being securely fixed. “All sensors loaded. We’ll take them out after arriving on-site.”
“This time it won’t shake.” Team Leader Yoo Mira said while folding the checklist. “Oh Jaehoon driving, I’ll handle measurement, Kang Doyun stabilization support, Baek Sorin recording. No issues?”
“No issues.”
“Good. Let’s depart.” The engine started, and its low vibration spread through the cabin. The van smoothly accelerated as it left the parking lot. Road guide lights streaked past the windows one after another. The inside of the car was quiet. Only the sound of someone turning pages and the faint vibration of equipment shifting could be heard. Two hours from Uijeongbu to Chuncheon. Today’s first mission was drawing closer by that distance. And the fact that the distance felt shorter than expected weighed a little on my mind.