Who Am I? Karma Sewing Master Ha Yuna
Who am I? Karma Sewing Master Ha Yuna.
When five humans get together, there's bound to be some trash. Since that's me, now everyone's competent, right?
F-rank. The lowest hunter rank, barely a step above a normal person.
Yeah, what kind of hunter is this? I should just study hard and become a proper member of society.
My nose tingled for no reason, and I sniffled.
"U-um, Ha Yuna? Have you checked your skill yet?"
The staff member who'd been nothing but kind to me from the start suddenly asked. The others had lost interest the moment F-rank popped up.
She was still the only one looking after me.
"...A skill?"
I sniffled in response, then it hit me—I hadn't checked.
As I mentioned before, hunter awakenings come in two types. One is natural awakening. The other is awakening chosen by the Tower.
For those chosen by the Tower, unlike hunters who awaken unique abilities, you get actual skills. A dedicated window provided by the Tower—what's commonly called a status window.
"The measuring device only checks mana rank. But for Tower-chosen awakenings, skills come with their own separate grades."
Ah, right. Now I remember.
I've lived in this world for 13 years, and even the original novel's settings are getting fuzzy.
I'd forgotten this was based on a novel world.
"I'll check it now!"
Her words gave me a little boost. Time to open the skill window right away.
"S-skill window?"
Saying it out loud felt embarrassing, so I whispered. The people around smiled warmly.
Don't look at me like that. It just makes me want to crawl into a hole even more.
Whoosh! While I flailed in embarrassment, a window popped up in front of me.
It appeared so suddenly that my already tiny heart skipped a beat, but I checked it out.
"I-it says undetermined?"
"Ah, um."
The staff member smiled quietly and stepped back.
"Fighting!"
Her reaction said it all. Total dud.
Holding Mom's hand on the way out, I quietly searched the site on my phone.
Looks like I wasn't the only one with undetermined (growth type) rank. And the consensus wasn't great.
Tower-chosen awakeners can only grow by climbing the Tower. With that restriction, a low base stat meant no growth potential.
Still, my skill name sounds cool.
Karma Sewing Master. At least the name slaps.
"Yuna, honestly, I hope you don't become a hunter."
Maybe because we almost lost her recently, but Mom gripped my hand tight as she spoke. She even seemed relieved at my low rank.
Makes sense. Hunter accidents are on TV every day. As a mom, she'd just worry. Especially since Dad's a hunter too—always coming home banged up from fieldwork.
"You can if you want, but just because Chaerin's doing it doesn't mean you have to. Got it?"
I hung out with Chaerin so much, she probably thought I wanted to be a hunter to follow her.
But Chaerin did influence me some. The reason she turned so fierce and delinquent-like wasn't just family.
Youngest S-rank hunter.
That title's power is immense. Right in the thick of puberty as a middle schooler, Chaerin started getting called everywhere by the nation.
They wouldn't waste an S-rank asset. Especially a kid—they figured early training would make her a loyal hunter without defection risks.
In that process, Chaerin's personality twisted. She grew disillusioned with normals, developed awakener supremacy. That's why she bullied them as a delinquent.
I don't want that.
From kindergarten to now, Chaerin and I had been best friends the whole time.
So I didn't want to see her suffer.
If I weren't a hunter, I couldn't stay by her side—just occasional visits.
As a hunter now, I could go to hunter middle school with her and look after her somehow.
"Mom, Chaerin will be so lonely going to middle school alone."
I hugged her side.
No parent beats their kid's wishes.
"I wanna go to the same middle school as Chaerin."
F-rank hunter or not, I qualified for hunter middle school. Plus, as the S-rank Chaerin's best friend, they'd pay attention—for her mental stability, they'd approve.
Of course, that was my calculation. Outwardly, just a 13-year-old girl wanting to be with her friend.
Mom looked worried but sighed, stroking my hair.
"Alright, we'll talk to Dad."
"Mom's the best!"
I hugged her tight. Sending your daughter away must suck, but she couldn't resist my happy face.
After safely returning from Jeju Island, elementary school gave us a month off to recover physically and mentally. Instead of classes, we got homework like vacation—basically early winter break.
Kids just cared about playing now.
One thing I'd do in that time: skill research.
Mom thought I was just messing around in my room.
But I was seriously studying my skill.
After some trial and error:
Puppet basically means puppetry, right?
Puppet thread leaking from my fingertips. One Lego doll made with it.
Dancing like Jjangryong in front of me. I clapped, and it danced even wilder in joy.
Cute overload.
"Our Jjangryong has talent in dance!"
No combat talent, though. Toss it lightly, and it'd shatter.
Upload to YouTube—might get views.
Jjangryong won't cut it.
I know my body. Zero athleticism. Can't climb the Tower like this. Jjangryong's out too.
If there's something tougher than Lego, maybe I could make something decent.
Like byproducts from the Tower or Dimension Breaks.
Monster materials too.
But those would be pricey.
Then Dad's room popped into mind.
He never said it outright, but Dad's an active B-rank hunter. Decent earner, team leader—solid skills.
My white-and-blue hair? From his awakening.
Our family's hunter stock.
So his room had hunter gear. Dangerous, stay out—he said. But I'm a kid. Worst case, get scolded.
Time to use kid privileges.
Slipped out quietly. Mom was glued to YouTube on TV.
While distracted, I spy-missioned with Jjangryong, opened Dad's door, and snuck in.
"Whoa."
Second time in his room ever.
First thing: huge sword on the wall. Monster materials, probably. His old weapon.
Teeth all gone—unusable now.
Too big and obvious. Want something small.
Rummaged around. Found a neatly boxed square cube in the dresser.
Dunno what, but heavy and solid.
Heavier than iron. Not normal material.
Touch it, faint something—hunter instinct screaming good stuff.
Set it down, wiped sweat with small hand.
Not stealing. Absolutely.
"...Dunno what it is."
If he wanted to sell, he'd have. Keeping it means something else.
Others are weapons or processed. This is raw.
Only thing I could touch here.
So.
Looked at Jjangryong—it nodded fiercely. Perfect agreement: do it and apologize later!
Asking permission's hard, forgiveness easy! Sorry Dad. Unfilial just for today!
"P-puppet sewing."
Whispered timidly—golden thread flowed from fingertips.
Ooh. Experienced with Jjangryong, but still magical. Weird sensation like expelling something.
Can't explain unless you've felt it.
Golden thread wrapped the cube messily. Massive drain through my hand—winced at the zap.
Cube deformation stopped.
"...Uh, um."
Jjangryong sidled up, stared, then looked at me.
We're screwed.
Mana too low to transform at once.
F-rank mana. Rat-shit amount can't reshape a cube instantly.
No choice. Keep going as mana recovers.
Perfect—month off. Let's invest time!
A month. Chaerin and I kept in touch steadily.
She barely rested—dragged everywhere from press conferences to companies begging to sponsor.
Her parents handled that. Smiles ear-to-ear, splitting grins.
Kid raking in billions. Who wouldn't laugh?
So her family was happier than ever. Chaerin, once bummed not born a boy, now golden child. Parents quit jobs to dote.
She seemed thrilled too.
...But.
I knew how it'd end in chaos. Couldn't just be happy for her.
So I doubled down on getting strong as a hunter.
F-rank wouldn't cut it to look after Chaerin.
Empathy's key with people.
To hear her unspeakable worries, I needed some status too.
Best friends. Even if fated, we were.
Chaerin's precious to me.
Didn't want to be powerless for my friend.
Month of investment paid off. Light spread through golden threads.
Rat-shit mana, but finally—complete today!
"Jjangryong!"
As it watched by my side, threads unraveled, white smoke billowed.
Thud—heavy forearm-sized body sprouted legs. Eight legs tougher than steel.
Interlocking machine-like bulk. Clacking toenails.
Um. Grotesquer than expected.
Spider Puppet 'Arachnes' completed.
Spider puppet. So this person-leg-sized thing was a giant spider.
Jjangryong stared blankly. Is this okay?
Sh-should be fine, right?
"Sp-spider? Hi?"
Greeting carefully—it raised all legs at once.
Looked just like a massive spider lunging—chills down my spine.
"Eek."
Nope, not okay.