Practical Exam
I parted ways with Eun-byeol and headed back to the exam room. First, I had to pick up my score sheet and wait until it was time for the practical exam.
"Just grab your score sheet and wait. When your exam number is called over the intercom, head to the practical exam venue. Oh, and if you failed, don't get too down about it. You can always retake the written exam separately if you pass the practical."
Of course, they'd charge extra for that. The proctor droned on before starting to hand out the score sheets. I took my envelope and peeked inside.
What the hell's with the shaking hands?
You have FAILED the written exam.
"What the fuck."
I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me for a second. 12 points? Not 72? I rubbed my eyes and looked again at the score sheet. But the numbers didn't change.
The written exam cutoff was 60 points, right? 12 was barely a quarter of that—not even half. I figured it had to be some computer glitch.
Did I smudge the OMR sheet?
There was no way this was my real score. I'd spent over six hours a day on the Hunter Gallery and Porter Minor Gallery. Most of the questions felt familiar from stuff I'd seen there, so I'd breezed through them smooth as hell.
Only one explanation: I'd smudged the damn OMR when filling in the bubbles. Nothing else made sense.
Fuck, the exam fee was so goddamn expensive.
Anyway, I could retake the written exam later. Sure, they'd gouge me for another 50,000 won, but the option was there. On that note, I crumpled the score sheet and shoved it in my pocket. I wanted to complain, but making a fuss would just broadcast to everyone that I'd bombed this shit. Better to let it slide.
Right, can't ruin this.
I suddenly remembered something important and hastily smoothed out the score sheet. Luckily, it was just wrinkled—no tears.
Should've posted it as a meme shot. Dodged a bullet.
Failing the written exam was prime meme material for the Porter Minor Gallery. Nearly tossing away something that precious? Guess I wasn't fully gallery-hardened yet. I flattened the paper and snapped a photo with my phone. Then I hopped on as a throwaway account and posted it to the Porter Minor Gallery.
The second I posted, the mindless upvote whores unleashed a barrage. Not even a minute in, and my meme post had stormed the top—no blood on its hands. Hell, it might've been more valuable than a passing score.
With time to kill, I dove into the Porter Minor Gallery's essential reads. Being Hunter Exam day, the memes were piling up like crazy—way more than usual. I'd gone through them that morning, and already three pages deep. Total meme-copy festival.
Meme duplication event in progress! Couldn't miss that. I devoured memes, posted shitposts targeting them, and galleried hard.
"Hmm, time to go?"
I was deep in a heated debate—living as a porter vs. living as a game dev—when my turn came up. I stood and headed out.
A few others from my spot got up too, filing into the hallway toward the exam area. Helpful arrows marked the way—for the braindead who couldn't navigate.
Following the arrows led to the next building. Unlike the last one, the halls and ceilings were painted stark white. Gave off secret lab vibes. And honestly, it kinda was.
I trailed the crowd to the signposted area. Massive cube-shaped rooms lined up in rows—personal training rooms managed by the Hunter Association. Nicknamed "Cubes."
"Ooh."
Heard about 'em, but first time seeing one. Rent was 50,000 won per hour—fifty times a PC bang. Worth it, though. Few spots where superhumans could train freely.
"Alright, line up in front of your assigned number. We've got 300 rooms total. Numbers 501 to 750: rooms 1 to 250 matching your number. Same for 751 onward."
I'm 6974, so room 224. But fuck, it's way at the end. I grumbled my way there. Past the hallway, even an elevator—annoying as shit.
"Excuse me, I'm 6943—which room?"
"Room 197."
Even then, some monkey couldn't subtract and was asking the proctor. Judging by the IQ, that dude bombed the written too. Not smudged like me—straight-up skill issue. Obvious without looking.
I reached room 224. While fiddling with my phone, some guy slipped in front—must be 6724.
Why a dude, fuck.
Wished it'd been a girl while waiting. Better than an ugly one, though. Guys are whatever, but uggos make your blood boil.
Short wait, door opened. Buff dude came out stretching his arms, looking satisfied. He called the next from inside.
"Candidate 6724, come in."
"Yes sir!"
Pumped-up guy went in. Door auto-closed.
"Hmm."
Should I gallery while waiting? Nah, check on Eun-byeol. I Kakao'd her. No read, so I called.
"...What."
"Heh heh, how's the practical going?"
"Waiting."
"Cool. Bored here—snap a pussy pic and send it."
"...Pardon?"
"No bathroom. Sneak it in the exam room. Skirt today, right? Easy access."
"Th-that's..."
I hung up. Pictured her blushing in panic. But she's my loyal slave. No choice but to snap and send.
Kekeke, sent it quick.
Opened Kakao—adorable pussy pic, middle finger in frame for petty rebellion. Too cute.
Right after exam, mating press that shit.
Dick already throbbed, aching to blow a load.
Bzzz.
Sexting Eun-byeol for fun when the door opened. About three minutes—exam done already.
"Candidate 6974, come on in~."
I stepped into the Cube. Wild setup inside. Silver-white reinforced walls around a 10m x 10m space—cramped yet spacious.
Whirr.
Door auto-sealed behind me. As I looked around, the proctor seated inside spoke up.
"Candidate 6974, Lee Hyun, correct?"
"Yeah."
Proctor was a woman. Hot as fuck. White blouse, denim jeans—dick-teasing perfection. After Eun-byeol's pic, my raging boner got worse. Had to bow politely to hide it.
"Quick rundown on the practical. First, take down the monster I summon— that's passing stage one. No safety worries; I'll control it before you get hurt."
Thirsty, she sipped coffee from the table and continued.
"Pass stage one, and you pass the practical overall. Stage one passers can opt into stage two."
Stuff from Porter Minor. They split one and two 'cause from two onward, guilds and corp scouts get your data. Need consent for personal info, so extra paperwork—hence the split.
Whatever, no plans for stage two. Guilds or companies? Hassle. Eun-byeol'd earn the cash anyway—no need to work. Getting licensed was just for Hunter Gallery cert flex. Mom and Eun-byeol could handle jobs; I'd leech allowance in househusband bliss.
"Let's get started."
"Okay then."
Snap.
She flicked her fingers. Mana rippled in the air, forming shape. Out popped a bipedal ugly fucker.
"Kerrrrk."
Goblin. E-rank, weakest monster. Still, no slacking—overpowered normals easy. Only mana trainees or Awakeners could drop 'em.
"Get ready... going!"
"Keeek!!!"
On her signal, the goblin charged me.