The Assigned Operator

"That should be about enough, right?"

Jisu had joined no fewer than six open chat rooms. He spent the next several days vetting the new signal rooms he'd piled into, and while none of them called trades with the surgical precision of his old one—just a casual buy this, dump it around that price, you should be fine—he followed along anyway.

The problem was that the returns were an absolute trainwreck.

I only put 1 on each trade, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the losses aren't huge, at least.

The HODL rooms weren't any more useful. Sitting in them felt like attending some newly formed prayer circle; the only thing they were good for was the occasional signal-room link that floated by. Whether those signal rooms themselves were actually worth anything was another matter entirely.

That Wildcat guy definitely has a source.

There had been losing stretches, sure, but if you simply followed his calls, you came out ahead in the end—even if only by a little. It had been Jisu's first signal room, so he hadn't grasped how remarkable that really was.

So that was why they kept crying Father Wildcat, Father Wildcat.

Not that he intended to put blind faith in the man. But if he was going to take anyone's advice, going with the one who actually hit was just common sense, wasn't it?

I need to get back into that room.

He checked the old link on the off chance. Still 100/100. Full capacity. Not a single person had left since the verification period ended.

And so the recovery of his ability continued to go nowhere. That was when—

"Huh? A call?"

Ever since he'd quit every last one of his jobs, Jisu's phone never rang—he only ever pulled it out to check the Bitstorm site. Now, for the first time in ages, it was actually playing its incoming-call ringtone.

Beep.

"Hello?"

A woman's voice he'd never heard before. Whatever had her so excited, she was talking in that distinctly bright tone unique to customer-service reps.

"Yes, it is?"

Suspecting spam, he answered with deliberate flatness. Internet-plan changes, credit cards, insurance—he had no idea how his number kept getting passed around, but calls like this came fairly often. At first he'd declined them with a fair amount of politeness, but he'd since learned that the nicer you were, the more they treated you like a sucker.

"Ah, yes. That's me."

So it was a call from the Association. Jisu's tone softened on its own.

"Taking charge?"

She said it with an embarrassed look on her face. The thought actually crossed his mind—that was how vivid the call felt. It was as if they were talking face-to-face.

"Uh... is that so?"

So they assigned people like this just because you were S-rank. Might as well ask a few questions, then.

"So, uh, what kind of things can you actually help with?"

"Hmm. I see."

He didn't fully understand, but it sounded like she assisted with Hunter work. For someone as clueless about the Hunter world as he was, that could actually be useful.

"Huh? Do we really have to meet in person for this?"

The woman's consistently high energy on the other end of the line dropped, unmistakably. Jisu could feel it instinctively. It was probably some kind of sixth sense honed by all those part-time jobs.

It's not like anything special's going to drop in those signal rooms anyway... and it'd be kind of rude to shut her down cold. This is her job, after all.

Well, he could spare the time to deal with one woman.

"All right. When works for you?"

He gave her the address, then hung up.

A woman... I've never had a woman over at the house.

Maybe he should at least sweep the room.

"Wow, that was exhausting! You live on a hill, so I was completely out of breath climbing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up here."

"Ah, it is a bit high up. Sorry you had to make the climb."

Fortunately, his mother was asleep. If she'd known a guest had arrived, she would have dragged her ailing body around trying to play host, and that would have been a problem. Hospitality had always mattered to her.

"Ah! Thank you. What is this?"

"Just green tea."

"Wow! I love green tea, I really, really do. Thank you so much! I'll enjoy every sip!"

Was a cup of tea-bag water really that good? Her bright, beaming smile looked just like a celebrity's.

Her name was Seyeon, he was fairly sure. Her hair was tinted a yellowish gold, whether she'd dyed it or not. Dyed hair made him think of that sleazy Woohyeok character, or whatever his name was—but strangely, the woman in front of him didn't look sloppy in the slightest. If anything, she looked neat. He wasn't sure if it was Association attire, but the uniform she had dressed in had a rather sharp cut to it. Her chest was fairly large and her hips were wide; she'd make a killing as a model.

"So... why come all the way out here?"

"Ah! It's nothing much."

Seyeon rummaged through the bag she'd brought and pulled out a sheaf of documents.

"It's just procedure, really, but we have to sign a contract!"

"A contract?"

"Yes!"

She spread several pages across the table with a sunny smile.

"If I'm going to officially become your assigned Operator and actually help you, we have to have a contract in place first. That's how I get my paycheck on time, after all!"

"Well, if it's a money thing, that makes sense."

A memory surfaced unbidden—his first brush with field work. He'd been sold off through an outsourcing company, never given a proper employment contract, and lost two weeks of daily wages for it. The site manager who used to gush every time he saw him, going on about how hardworking he was, how he was like a son, had changed his number and vanished. Back when he didn't know anything, he'd gotten taken advantage of plenty.

Contracts matter, then. Obviously.

"Exactly! The business world is a cold, hard place! It's not a world that runs on warmth—but you and I can still build that warmth as we work together!"

"Here's hoping."

He took the contract and read it through.

Her monthly salary was paid by the Association, so there was nothing for him to put up himself. S-rank Hunters and above really did carry that kind of clout.

"Ah, take this too!"

She said it as she produced a business card.

"As you can see on the contract, the official seal is properly stamped too!"

He checked the spot she pointed to. Sure enough, the contract bore the same official seal he'd seen at the training center.

"Where do I sign?"

"Ah, yes! Right here, please."

And so Jisu signed the contract.

"Wow! Thank you so much! You're so straightforward!"

"I hear that a lot."

After a little more light back-and-forth, Seyeon bowed deeply at the waist.

As she bent forward, the neckline of her uniform slipped just enough that the valley of her chest came into view.

They're big.

For someone with such a tidy appearance, her underwear was black, was it? This was clearly no shrinking violet of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a young woman.

"Ah, I'll give you this!"

Seyeon said it as she rummaged through her bag again. A moment later she produced something that looked like a wireless earbud.

"What's this?"

"A receiver! Ah, and you can drop the formal speech with me! You're my Master now, after all!"

The word Master made Jisu grimace.

"No, that's a bit... I'd prefer if we kept things polite."

"Oh, really? If that's more comfortable for you, then of course. Anyway, when you go into a raid or a fight, if you wear this in your ear, I can fill you in on things in real time!"

"Is that so? Hmm. Think it'll actually help?"

"Well, honestly, I kind of think the same thing! You're supposed to be incredibly strong, Jisu! I'll help however I can, but as for how much use I'll actually be... hehe, I'll be honest, I'm not that confident!"

She said it so sunnily that he couldn't even find a retort. And even if she turned out to be useless in a fight, just having someone he could freely ask about the Hunter industry—an industry he was still completely blind in—was satisfying enough on its own.

"Ah, I'll be heading out first, then! Was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

"Huh? Ah, no. Nothing."

"Then—!"

Seyeon said it, popped to her feet with a little ups-a-daisy, scooped up the things she'd unpacked as quickly as she'd laid them out, and headed for the door.

"If there's anything you want to ask, call me anytime, Master!"

"No, like I said, please drop the Master. Jisu is fine."

"Got it! If that's more comfortable for you... huh?"

As she answered, her eyes caught the monitor on Jisu's computer. An interface she'd seen somewhere before.

"Bitstorm..."

"Hm?"

She trailed off so quietly he almost missed it.

"Ah, it's nothing! Just give me a call! The number on the card is fine. Take care, Jisu!"

"Ah, yes. Take care."

And just like that, as suddenly as she'd arrived, Seyeon was gone. Jisu let out a long breath.

She's pretty and cute, sure, but her energy is kind of exhausting to keep up with.

They were clearly the same age, and yet here he was, thinking like some world-weary old man. He sat back down in his chair.

Either way, in this Hunter industry that burned through people like moths to a flame, he had gained his first colleague.