Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Exempt from Reserves? Big Win
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“...I'll give it all to you.”
Han Yoo-jung's voice was soaked, as if she were dreaming.
Is it because she's relieved?
'She looks like just an ordinary, fragile woman up close.'
Who the hell would try to mess with someone like her?
Jealousy, maybe?
There are guys who stalk streamers that pop up in the news sometimes.
Who would've thought Han Yoo-jung—a top-tier broadcaster people call a “big corp”—would have the same kinds of worries.
Her dewy eyes stayed glued to my face, unwavering.
I needed to shift the mood a bit.
“Was that serious just now?”
“...Pardon?”
“You said you'd give it to me. The bonus. Even one figure on that shelf would run hundreds of thousands, so how much am I looking at here?”
I nodded toward the display case standing pristine against the wall.
Only then did Han Yoo-jung seem to remember what she'd said, her face turning red. She pulled away from my arms in a hurry and cleared her throat.
“A-hem! Of course! Why would I lie? If there's a figure you want, just say the word. I'll hook you up.”
Jokes aside.
I scanned the area casually, then whispered low when no one was in earshot.
“You should look into it properly, see who's behind it. Could be an insider who comes and goes from your place freely.”
Of course, the moving company guy might've just been sloppy.
Or someone could've bribed the moving staff instead.
Either way, if there's a culprit, odds are high it's someone on the inside.
“...Thanks for the advice. I already had my suspicions about someone.”
Han Yoo-jung's gaze settled calmly.
She's sharp—even from that quick glance. She got my meaning right away.
“If it weren't for you, Sang-hyuk, I really would've been in deep trouble.”
“No big deal. If my client gets hurt, I can't collect my fee. Messes with my rep too.”
“Tch. Money talk to the bitter end.”
Han Yoo-jung pouted her lips but bustled over with some shopping bags anyway.
“Here, take these. The bet winnings and... this is a little something personal from me.”
I took the hefty bags from her.
Peeking inside, I spotted a luxury skin lotion set.
Surprisingly practical gift.
“And... one thing I couldn't say on air.”
As I headed for the door, Han Yoo-jung murmured softly from behind.
“See you again sometime. It's... comfy and fun when you're with the driver.”
“You got it. Call Blue Vest for any good gigs.”
I gave a light wave and stepped out.
Manager Park was waiting in the sedan down in the underground lot.
I leaned back into the seat, and the plush cushion wrapped around me comfortably.
“Good work, Sang-hyuk-ssi.”
“You too, Manager. Late night for you.”
“No trouble at all. Straight home?”
“Yeah, please.”
The car pulled away smoothly.
The stunning nightscape rolled by outside the window.
After a full day of work, I should've been wiped out, but my mind was sharper than ever.
'This must be what they call dopamine.'
The whole world had its eyes on me right now.
I'd feel like crashing hard, but somehow I'd end up pulling out my phone to check Blue Vest stuff anyway.
Totally hooked.
'Feels weird.'
Today too, the “concept posts” were plastered with stories about me.
Joy on one half, burden on the other.
Is this what celebrity life is like?
I'm raking in appearance fees, and my VIP client Han Yoo-jung's subs are booming.
All upsides.
Just one problem.
'These guys' expectations are sky-high.'
Skimming the community posts, nothing but praise.
The issue was the direction of that praise.
Outlandish speculations were already circulating like gospel.
I'm an efficiency nut.
Big expectations mean big letdowns, and too much spotlight just breeds hassle.
'Time for some opinion management.'
I kicked off my covert op.
Logged into the gallery and made my first account.
Fixed nickname: [Cool-Headed Guy]
I hit the write button with a steely expression.
Too much hype right now is trouble.
Need some proper pushback so later, if I phone it in, they just shrug with an “as expected.”
'Perfect... totally objective, ice-cold analysis.'
I hit post and grinned, waiting for the reactions.
This. This.
Writing my own posts beats reading concept ones by a mile?
'Refresh time.'
Comment alerts popped; I scrolled down eagerly.
Hoping folks snapped back to reality and backed my rational take.
[5 Comments]
[7 Comments]
Explosive for a no-name first post.
But...
“Hah.”
A dry laugh escaped me.
I was trying to roast myself, so why were they shielding me?
Still, kinda feels good.
'Tch...'
Stubbornness flared; I almost wrote more but held back.
'Might just pump my own stock higher.'
My popularity's solid right now.
Not the type to fizzle from one splash of cold water.
Unless I bombed on Saintess TV or something.
'Not happening.'
Wanna keep shining, but with zero hype.
How to square that circle?
'Alright. Time to play the pitiful card.'
New account created.
Fixed nickname: [CommonFolk]
Whoa. Way too on-the-nose.
A chill ran down my spine; I yanked the post and logged out fast.
“These guys are no joke... cyber investigation squad or what.”
I shook my head and pocketed my phone.
Better cool it on the posting for a while.
But lurking their praise for me while sockpuppeting diss posts?
Surprisingly solid stress relief.
Not exactly hobby material to brag about, though.
Bzzzzt.
Short vibe from my pocket phone.
'Yoo Na-yeon?'
Checked just in case—yep, Kakao from her.
Even with my circle growing, night texts were mostly her.
That was it.
No Han Yoo-jung jab like I'd half-expected.
'Huh... come to think, haven't thanked her properly.'
My awakening? Gotta be thanks to her, no matter how I slice it.
But then Red Ogre, Han Yoo-jung mess, honorary hunter gig...
Too much chaos; couldn't even swing a small gift.
She'd hooked me up with a tie to celebrate the honorary title, though.
'Gotta invite her to a restaurant.'
Old me would've flexed two meal vouchers solo twice over.
Now I've got the slack to treat a friend.
Or maybe awakening matured me a tad?
I chuckled and shut my eyes in the back seat.
Next morning.
I got Manager Park's call and sauntered out to the living room easy.
“Morning, Manager Park.”
“Yes. Sleep well, Sang-hyuk-ssi?”
Her face was business as usual, but she clutched a fat envelope.
Something ominous prickled.
“What's with the envelope?”
“From Hunter Association HQ.”
“Hm...”
I eyed the mail with dread.
Draft notice. Tax bill.
Gov or agency post? Never good news.
'No way it's an S-Rank gate breakout, right?'
Breakout.
When a gate goes haywire and monsters spill out.
The department store one dumped monsters right away, but that's rare.
Usually, gates spawn stable—days short, years long, no boom.
'Anything but conscription. Please.'
She caught my tension, slit the envelope, and slid out a sheet.
“...What's this?”
“Just what it says: training summons notice.”
Her rundown was crisp.
All official registered hunters gotta do this 2-night, 3-day camp seminar.
“Penalties if I skip?”
Not to brag, but I'm the guy who barehanded an ogre and smashed a small gate casual.
Boring seminar? Pure time sink.
“Busy schedule aside, no-show penalties are steep.”
She swiped her tablet screen.
“Incomplete training: first fine 30 million won. Second: license suspension.”
“Thirty mil?!”
I yelped without thinking.
“Not the money. Suspension means you're no longer an official hunter.”
“And that means...?”
“Your monthly salary dries up, welfare card goes dark.”
I gawked at Manager Park.
My 500 mil monthly? Beloved welfare card axed?
Just execute me instead, damn it.
This country's hellbent on not letting anyone coast.
30 mil fine stings bad enough, but cutting my cashflow? No choice anymore.
“...Guess I'll pack.”
“You'll go?”
“Have to. Did my national service as a Korean guy—what's a measly 2-night camp?”
One snag, though.
“But it overlaps with reserve training dates. What then?”
“Don't sweat it. Hunter competency cert exempts you from reserves.”
Trading mud-rolling reserve barracks for AC-blasted elite Hunter Academy playground?
Skipping that'd be the real fool move.