Salary Negotiation and the Weight of a Long Tail
The elevator doors slid open quietly, and the dry scent of wax hung in the air along the third-floor HR corridor. My phone showed exactly ten o’clock. “Investigator Byun Jihoon, please come in.”
The staff member opened a file folder. As she flipped through the pages, the smell of paper rose first, followed by the faint warmth still lingering from the printer. “This is your first contract renewal after your D-rank promotion. Evaluation: A. Dispatch rate: 94%. Base salary is 78 million won, with a 500,000-won dispatch allowance per operation.”
“Understood.”
“There are many investigators, so competition is fierce. This amount puts you in the upper ranks for your first year.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“Any requests for adjustment?”
“None. As long as field support arrives on time, this is sufficient.”
“Very well. Please sign here.”
The pen nib whispered across the paper, and the final stamp landed with a solid thud. She closed the folder. “Contract renewal complete. The new terms take effect next month.”
“Thank you for your time.”
“I hope your first year as a D-rank goes smoothly.”
When I left HR and opened the office door, the smell of coffee greeted me. My teammates were at their desks as usual, eyes on their monitors. “Jihoon, did you check your evaluation results?”
“Yes. No major changes.”
“Good. Standards have gotten stricter lately. Staying steady puts you in a safe zone.”
I simply nodded. Team Leader Yoo Mira continued, “More importantly… do you remember the Pocheon D-04 dungeon? It completely vanished as of yesterday.”
“Vanished?”
“Every trace has disappeared from the observation network. It’s not common for a dungeon to close right after stabilization.”
“Similar cases keep appearing, especially among lower-rank dungeons. The rate of disappearance is rising quickly.”
“Any confirmed cause?”
“Nothing definitive, but there are reports that unauthorized hunters are stealing the cores. The Investigation Bureau is tracing internal lines.”
Pocheon D-04… It couldn’t be because of that, could it?
The core I absorbed—
“Jihoon, are you all right?”
“Yes. I was just thinking about D-04.”
“Understandable. It’s unsettling even for me when a stabilized dungeon suddenly disappears.”
I took a moment to steady my breathing. There are things I need to be more careful about than my salary. The old saying drifted through my mind: If the tail grows too long, someone’s bound to step on it… I hope I don’t get caught.
After work, I pushed open the training hall door. The lingering scent of sweat and the sound of commands faded as I stepped inside. Master Han Do-hyun slowly turned his gaze toward me, his eyes tracing the rhythm of my steps and breathing without pause.
“Jihoon, it’s been a month now, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, Master.”
He walked over to the sword rack, ran his fingers along a scabbard, then drew the blade at a precise angle. The edge caught the light and tilted forward without the slightest tremor.
“Good. From today, I’ll teach you swordsmanship and footwork in order.”
Master Han Do-hyun raised the sword to shoulder height. “I have a technique I use. The sword art is called Cheongpunggeom. The footwork is called Pungmubo. The blade follows the movement of wind, and the feet trace that movement first.”
The moment he stepped forward, the sword tip sliced cleanly through the air, leaving a thin line. A faint breeze brushed the back of my hand. “Cheongpunggeom…”
As I murmured the name, the tension in my shoulders eased while I followed the path of the blade with my eyes. He adjusted his wrist by a fraction, and the sword continued without pause, drawing a second, sharper line.
“I made a bit of a name for myself with this once. Back then I was an A-rank hunter.”
“I know. I saw it in the Association records.”
“Right. But that was as far as I got. No matter how many elixirs I took, I could never cross into S-rank.”
He looked off into the distance. “That’s when I realized everyone has their own limit.”
“Still, not many people reach even that far.”
“So you’ll have to go further. The sword isn’t about pushing with force. It’s about reading movement and finding openings.”
He raised the sword again. This time his foot moved first, and the blade followed smoothly. The tremor that split the air felt clearer than before. My fingertips trembled slightly, yet my center of gravity never wavered.
The weekend passed that way. Bruises bloomed on my arms and my shoulders grew heavy, but the sword’s movements became easier to read. When Monday arrived, the office lights came back on. Team Leader Yoo Mira brought up the meeting materials and flipped through the slides. A red dot expanded in the center of the screen—Yangju North, code C-09.
“This week’s mission is the Yangju C-09 dungeon.”
“This is everyone’s first C-rank, right? I went a few times with my old guild before becoming an investigator. From C-rank onward, the scale is completely different.”
“The structure is very different from D-rank, isn’t it?”
Team Leader Yoo Mira advanced the slide. “Yes. Completely. There are no tunnels or lower floors. It’s one massive ecosystem—mountains, hills, grasslands, wetlands. The sky is open and the weather changes. We’ll be staying inside for several days.”
Jaehoon raised his hand. “Then how do we set the resonance detector’s range? Can it even pick up readings in such a huge space?”
“It’s almost useless. From C-rank onward, we only reference the entrance stabilization value. Inside, the variance is too great for coordinates to register. When the core is hidden within the ecosystem, even the center doesn’t show up.”
Sorin’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “You mean we can’t find the core?”
“More precisely, it’s extremely difficult to locate unless we’re doing a standard retrieval. The core becomes completely embedded in the ecosystem. This mission isn’t about finding the core—it’s about analyzing the cause of the stabilization change.”
“The combat will be handled by the Hyeonmu Guild, correct?”
“That’s right. We’ll be operating jointly with their support team. We handle rear analysis and sample collection while their team secures the front line and provides protection.”
Team Leader Yoo Mira closed the terminal. “By sample collection, do you mean resource recovery?”
“Exactly. From C-rank onward, we have to recover resources that match the ecosystem. They serve as clues to read stabilization fluctuations. That’s what we’ll be bringing back.”
“What are the main monsters?”
“Mountain orcs. They move in groups across the grasslands and hills. Iron bears or night wolves may appear as well. High chance of encounter.”
“Finally, monsters with actual intelligence. They’re basically combat races.”
“Yes. They can’t speak, but they can make simple judgments. That makes them dangerous. One mistake at C-rank or higher can trigger a rescue signal.”
Team Leader Yoo Mira straightened her expression. She brought up the final slide. “We’ll be camping for two nights and three days. We’ll join the Hyeonmu team and stay at their field base while conducting the investigation. Personal tents and survival kits will be provided. Bring your own food, emergency rations, and personal gear.”
Sorin typed a note on her phone, looking strangely excited. “Wow… it’s like a real camp.”
“It is. Sleeping inside a dungeon isn’t common, but C-rank requires it if we want to map movement patterns.”
Team Leader Yoo Mira closed the file. “Each person will receive two mana-stone bombs. Pick them up from the supply room today. We depart at 8 a.m. the day after tomorrow from the parking lot.”
She looked around at all of us. “Prepare thoroughly. From C-rank onward, this is the real field.”
After work I headed straight to the training hall. The night lights flickered faintly as I hurried my steps. The moment I opened the door, the smell of sweat and the sounds of training washed over me. Master Han Do-hyun stood there in his training uniform. When the door closed, the commands naturally died down. He lifted his chin slightly and met my eyes.
“You’re here.”
“Yes. I’m entering a C-rank dungeon the day after tomorrow. It’s my first time, so… I’m a little nervous.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I figured as much.”
“Let’s talk while we warm up. Today, your body comes before words.”
“You say that every time.”
I picked up a wooden sword and took my stance. Master Han Do-hyun’s blade flicked out and tapped my shoulder. “I told you not to block with force.”
“That’s strange. My timing felt right…”
“That was your head’s timing, not your body’s. At D-rank, your body needs to remember, not your head.”
When our swords met, a heavy sound rang out. The rebound sent my wooden sword flying, and the impact traveled straight into my wrist. Without breaking the flow, he continued his movement and spoke between short breaths. “You asked for tips? Here’s one. First, use equipment that suits your body. Second, don’t try to imitate my movements—trust your own senses.”
“By equipment… you mean the weapon first, right?”
“Yes. A sword that conducts mana well matches your constitution.”
He adjusted the angle of his blade. “Psychokinesis is movement. Only a sword infused with mana will respond exactly as you intend.”
“A mana sword… Finding the right one won’t be easy.”
“It won’t. And longer isn’t always better. For a one-handed style like yours, too much length kills speed and forces you into a two-handed grip. The length that fits comfortably in your hand—that’s the standard.”
I raised the sword and centered myself again. “So once I find that sword, I’m done?”
“No. Even after you find it, training remains.”
Master Han Do-hyun lowered his stance and lifted his blade. “The sword is only a tool. What you must master is your own body. You have to remember the movements. Dungeons don’t give you time to think.”
That day’s training was relentless. One motion flowed straight into the next without a single gap. “Don’t use your eyes—use your senses! Turn your body toward the side that feels light!”
I closed my eyes, steadied my breathing, and turned my body along the flow brushing past my shoulder. The sword followed, cutting through the air and stopping precisely at the target point. “Good. That’s movement. Force comes after.”
Time passed. My entire body grew damp, my palms burned, and my breathing grew ragged. Master Han Do-hyun stepped close, broke the flow of my sword for an instant, and spoke. “Don’t stop. Fatigue is not your enemy—it’s an illusion you created.”
I clenched my teeth, raised the sword again, and though my arms trembled, I refused to lose the flow. I dropped, rose, changed direction, and with a spinning strike cut down an imaginary foe. The tip of the wooden sword struck the floor, sending up a thin cloud of dust.
“That’s enough. You should have the feel of it by now.”
“I understand now… that fighting isn’t done with the head.”
“Yes. The head thinks. The body remembers. When the two fall out of sync, that’s when danger comes.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Good. Don’t push yourself tomorrow—rest well. If your body stiffens before entering the dungeon, your techniques will lock up. In the field, your physical condition matters more than your gear. Before you go in, come out here even for a short while and loosen up first.”
He gave my shoulder a light pat, then turned and walked into the master’s office. Only quiet air remained in his wake.
When I hung the wooden sword on the rack, my hands were still trembling faintly. Yes. Preparations were complete. The C-rank dungeon would require a different kind of readiness than anything before.