Second Class Change: Dragon Hatchling

In this cramped room, there was a full-length mirror that had been deliberately set up. Standing blankly in front of it was a tiny girl who looked about 130cm tall, staring at her own reflection.

That was me.

"This... makes any sense?"

But the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠problems didn't end there. As I awkwardly touched my head, a strange sensation spread through my fingers. Growing from my scalp were horns identical to those of the black dragon Tenebris, and between my waist and hips swung a plump tail.

'The black dragon... was a girl?!'

Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to inherit it so casually. But the water was already spilled. Tenebris was dead, and I had become a half-human, half-dragon.

'Well, since it's come to this, I'll turn this crisis into an opportunity.'

"S-status window!"

"Oh...?"

Thinking about it again, it seemed like a solid inheritance. Sure, the stats were a bit underwhelming for receiving the essence of a dragon, which was on a whole other level from ordinary creatures, but I was still just a hatchling. My growth potential was wide open.

But what really made my heart pound wasn't the stat boosts.

"I didn't have a single skill before... but D-rank and EX-rank?!"

EX. Those two letters boldly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠marked in the skill grade field. EX-rank. My lips trembled.

An indescribable sensation clawed at my heart. Even in Hunter Gallery, major guilds, or among the few S-rank hunters, SSS-rank skills were dismissed as "urban legends." Yet above that existed EX-rank skills—and one was right there in my skill window.

'Gotta check the details right now.'

When I touched the engraved [Skills] in the status, a new popup appeared with detailed info.

"Th-this is EX-rank...!"

Normal hunters grew by earning experience from monsters cleared in towers or gates. Even that had individual limits, and once reached, no amount of training could make someone an S-rank hunter—that was reality.

But this skill was different.

'If the conditions are met, I can get stronger than anyone!'

A typical hunter in this situation would rush straight to a tower or gate, but my choice was a little different.

"Hmm... yeah, no one believes it, huh?"

Maybe the heavy mosaics over the VPN were the issue... I'd posted it on a whim, hoping for a shot at the hot boards, but it was too much to swallow at face value. No one had ever heard of an EX-rank skill publicly, so they probably thought they didn't exist.

"Whatever, if they don't believe it, can't be helped."

There'd be plenty more chances for hot posts later. For now, I set my phone aside and stood back in front of the full-length mirror to investigate the most important thing.

First, my hand went to the horns. They were small and black, curled round like a sheep's, so they didn't stand out much. The wings were too tiny relative to my body size to fly with. 'Too bad... I wanted to try flying at least once.'

Finally, the substantial tail. I could control it to some degree if I focused, so it might make a decent weapon later. But if I ignored it, it swung wildly on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its own.

To examine it closely, I grabbed the unruly tail...

"Hyaaah-!!"

A shocking jolt raced up my spine, like my spinal nerves were being zapped directly.

"Ugh... better not touch the tail..."

I collapsed in front of the mirror from the intense sensation, catching my breath, when an unwelcome sound echoed through the room.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeep-!

The door lock disengaging. My heart dropped.

Only one person knew the passcode to our place.

Click-.

"Oppa? You're not up yet? It's the weekend, but you're sprawled out too much..."

Shoulder-length brown hair. A calm, refined look that exuded innocent charm. And a convenience store bag full of snacks.

Not blood-related, but we'd been inseparable since childhood—my little sister, Yoon Seol-ah.

Seol-ah froze at my completely transformed appearance, her eyes scanning my body up and down.

"...Wh-who are you?"

Uh, how do I explain...? 'I suddenly inherited a dragon's power'—would she buy that?

Panicking and frozen, I watched her pull out her phone. Thinking she might call the cops, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Uh... uh, Seol-ah! You're home! Let's just chill somewhere! Wanna watch Netflix?"

"...?"

To hide my panic, I desperately mixed in lines I might normally say, forcing calm. My pitch was off and I sounded tongue-tied from rushing...

It only made things more suspicious, but Seol-ah pocketed her phone and approached, staring intently at my face.

Is she suspicious...? Please don't call the cops...

"...No way, is that you, Oppa?"

Her low, cautious tone. Thankfully, she seemed to believe the kid in front of her was me.

"...Yeah."

I reached for the bag slipping from her hand. But Seol-ah stayed rooted, fixated on one spot.

My head. Specifically, the horns...

The suspicion and shock in her eyes vanished. In their place: curiosity and the burning desire to touch.

An expression I'd seen countless times since we were kids. And every animal that ended up with that look met the same fate.

"Horns."

"Seol-ah? Calm down first, okay?"

I'd forgotten amid all the chaos. Seol-ah was obsessed with animals—enough to major in life sciences and get recommended for grad school. Reptiles were her favorite. Her room was plastered with lizard posters, and her lifelong dream was "petting a Komodo dragon."

Now, a being loaded with reptilian features had appeared right in front of her.

"Can I touch?!"

"No."

"Just once!"

"No!"

But Seol-ah lunged at my horns like lightning. I jerked my head back reflexively, but her hand was faster, brushing them.

In that moment, I felt fear. Because I'd seen the spark ignite in her eyes...

"Whoa! Real horns! Or even harder? Oppa, how'd you get these???"

"Hey! Cut it out!"

I dove onto the bed to escape, but she pounced like a predator. I threw pillows at her face, tried smothering her with the blanket in reverse—nothing broke her manic determination.

The tiny studio turned into a warzone in seconds.

"Tail! The tail too!"

"No tail! It's sensitive!"

"It has feeling too?! Gotta touch more!!"

"Hyyaaah-!!!"

The relentless seven-minute brawl ended in my defeat. Seol-ah rubbed her cheek against my plump tail, looking as thrilled as she did on her childhood birthdays.

"Sigh..."

"...So, what the heck happened?"

Satisfied, Seol-ah cracked open a drink she'd bought and finally asked the question she should've led with.

I summarized quickly, skipping the boring or pretentious details: black dragon, inheritance, transformation.

Seol-ah's gaze stayed glued to one spot the whole time. My hoodie—the one I always wore, still on now.

"Oppa."

"Yeah?"

"But don't you only have that one outfit?"

"N-not exactly, but..."

"This isn't even oversized—it's basically a dress. You planning to go out like that from now on?"

Her verdict was ice-cold. Ever the fashion enthusiast, her judgment stabbed right through me.

"With a prime hanger like that, you gotta step up the clothes game."

"Urk..."

"Nope, get up. Oppa."

"Wh-why?"

"To the department store! I'll pick out cute stuff for you!"

Seol-ah declared confidently and stood. ...No room for argument.

The department store at Saturday lunchtime was a sea of people. For someone with a big fat capital I for introversion, it was a tougher labyrinth than any S-rank gate I'd eventually conquer.

Seol-ah's eyes switched to battle mode the moment we entered. Wide strides, quick movements—my short legs struggled just to keep up.

She scanned each store, head swiveling. Each scan took under three seconds: sign, front display styles, overall vibe—instant judgment, no time wasted.

"Here first."

Her first stop: an SPA brand store. She rifled through the racks like a spy hunting classified docs.

Click. Click. Click.

The mechanical rhythm of hangers clashing filled the store.

I naturally plopped into the provided chair, reaching for my phone.

"Oppa! Check this out quick!"

"Huh?"

Seol-ah held up a white hoodie with graffiti-style lettering.

"Oh, not bad?"

"Which part? Color? Fit? Design?"

"...All three?"

"...Hmmm."

Her eyebrow twitched, but she didn't press. She shifted it to her non-searching hand—marked for keep. She already had over a dozen like that.

"...We're doomed."

"Huh? What?"

"N-nothing."

After a few more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fashion checks with me, she bundled the pile and shoved me into the fitting room.

Relieved they'd all seemed decent, I was amazed at the perfect fits without measurements. 'Was all that tumbling earlier for this...?'

Nah, probably just her desires at work. Those creepy-fast hands screamed obsession.

With over ten outfits, I bounced in and out of the fitting room multiple times, but thanks to Seol-ah's fashion passion, I scored tons that suited my new body.

But her shopping spree was just heating up. Second store, third, fourth... By the fifth, I stopped counting.

Now she was in a shoe store, sizing my feet, then agonizing over similar pairs for 30 minutes straight. I sprawled in the chair amid the try-ons.

My overall specs had improved, but I couldn't endure. Even an S-rank hunter would tap out.

"Seol-ah..."

"Yeah?"

"You know all my sizes now, right? Just pick for me from here."

"For real?!"

"For real. My brain's not spinning anymore..."

She eyed me with sparkling anticipation, nodded vigorously, and dashed off alone.

...Why did this feel like the wrong choice?