Is This Actually Good? (2)

The comments that had been flooding in without pause suddenly stopped. It was like the server had lagged out or something.

I refreshed the page just in case, but nothing changed. The silence was deafening.

I’d asked because I genuinely didn’t know.

That’s when a new post from a very familiar username appeared.

…Just how frustrated was she?

I could only imagine how the author must have felt reading that 5,700-character rant. I read through Archmage’s post with a strange sense of secondhand embarrassment.

In simpler terms, her message boiled down to this:

Hey you moron, remember how annoying it was to cast magic on that goblin? A skill skips all that bullshit in one go. That’s why it’s good, you absolute idiot.

It was a good thing she’d posted it instead of whispering it directly into my ear the entire time.

“…Yeah. I get it now. Completely.”

I really did understand.

Thinking back, when I used magic on the Goblin Warrior, I had to prepare, focus, and then activate it. It ate up concentration and kept my nerves on edge.

But a skill apparently skipped all that hassle.

“As expected of Archmage-nim-nim-nim.”

She really was the Magic Tower Master for a reason.

I nodded and closed the gallery window. Seeing was believing. The best way to understand was to try it myself.

I stood in the center of the empty boss room and took a slow, deep breath.

I was only going to test the skill lightly. Very lightly.

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“Lightning Bolt.”

The moment I spoke the words in a low voice, I felt mana rush out of my core.

What was shocking was—

Crackle!

Even though I hadn’t bothered to visualize the shape or concentrate, blue sparks instantly formed a sphere in mid-air and shot forward in the exact direction I was aiming.

BOOOOM—!!

The lightning slammed into the corner of the boss room.

A deafening roar erupted as the cave wall exploded. Smoke rose from the cracked rock, and shattered debris rained down.

I stood there in a daze, watching the cloud of dust billow outward. I couldn’t help it.

“…What the hell.”

It was a very Korean reaction—when something shocking or insane happens, the first thing out of your mouth is “no way.”

A hollow laugh escaped me.

The lightning I’d just fired after circulating mana and focusing was exactly the same as the one I’d used to finish off the semi-boss. If anything, the sharpness of the strike was even more precise.

And this was just a skill called Lightning Bolt.

That basic spell I’d thought was so ordinary had become something completely different the moment a natural awakener like me used it.

Not to mention the mana consumption was less than a tenth of what it used to be.

I quickly reopened the gallery window and wrote a new post.

Comments poured in, every single one calling me pathetic. Strangely, none of it bothered me. If anything, I felt like I could keep climbing the Tower forever.

I would have, too, if the one-entry-per-day limit didn’t exist.

I was about to close the gallery with a faint smile when another post caught my eye.

Use the skill while circulating mana?

Now that I thought about it, the only thing I’d done so far was simply recite the skill name. But what if I intentionally circulated my mana while activating it?

I’d been so excited that I hadn’t even considered it.

The snide comment seemed to read my mind perfectly. I let out a small snort, closed the gallery, and glanced at the remaining time floating in the air.

“Let’s go all out.”

I planted my feet shoulder-width apart, closed my eyes, and steadied myself.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I activated the breathing technique and began circulating my mana. Feeling the power surge, I focused it into my right hand.

A sphere of mana flickered at my fingertips.

“Lightning… Bolt!”

I clenched my teeth and activated the skill again. The mass of lightning in front of my right hand began to swell dramatically.

The repulsive force from the overwhelming mana pushed my feet backward across the floor.

Vrrrrrrrr—

The moment the skill took shape, a resonant hum filled the air.

And the instant it fired—

I barely remembered anything except the world flashing white.

My ears went numb for a second, and only then did the explosion reach me.

KWAGAGAAGAGAGA—!!!

The only clear memory I had was the lightning erupting from my fingertips and turning everything in my vision pure white.

Only after I registered that did the shockwave slam into me.

I couldn’t withstand the force and was sent flying several meters back, tumbling across the floor.

The blinding flash faded, and the cloud of dust slowly began to settle.

“Cough, cough.”

I hacked up dust as I pushed myself to my feet.

When I looked forward, I forgot to breathe.

“…Holy shit.”

One entire wall of the boss room had literally evaporated.

It wasn’t just destroyed. It was gone. Beyond the missing section was nothing but pitch-black darkness.

I stared down at my right hand with a dumb expression. A faint current of electricity still tickled my skin.

The skill description for Lightning Bolt kept flashing through my mind.

Harassment…?

I muttered in a hollow voice.

“…Is this even right?”

***

At the same time, the Hunter Gallery—where every hunter in the country gathered—was on absolute fire.

Normally it was just a place for people to spout nonsense and mess around, but right now everyone was furiously discussing a single topic.

Updating a low-floor record was extremely rare unless it happened during the early days of a new Tower season. The hunters capable of setting new records were usually already playing on the higher floors.

That was why a time of three seconds made absolutely no sense.

Considering the physical distance and the time needed to defeat the boss, nothing short of something completely broken could explain it.

The Hunter Gallery spent the next several hours arguing over whether three seconds was possible or not.

Watching that pointless debate, Lee Chaeyeon felt goosebumps rising all over her body.

She sat at her desk, staring at her monitor. The coffee cup in her hand trembled slightly.

“Three seconds…?”

Lee Chaeyeon whispered the number under her breath. Logically, was a record like this even possible?

“White…”

She had been about to check the hunter database when her eyes fell on the document in her hand.

“White… Baek…”

The document had a photo of a young man wearing an F-class hunter license around his neck.

“Baek Woobin?”

She looked back and forth between the man in the photo and the name “White” engraved on the Hall of Fame.

In that moment, the puzzle pieces clicked together in her head.

The riot that had broken out in the hospital lobby just a few hours ago.

The villain who caused it had been a B-class awakener. The man who had taken him down in a single strike and then casually demanded the bounty money.

And right after he was discharged from the hospital, this absurd new record on the fifth floor appeared.

Every piece of evidence pointed to one conclusion.

The owner of that impossible record was Baek Woobin.

“Haa.”

She let out a soft sigh without realizing it.

Then the corners of her mouth lifted into a deep, satisfied smile.

Inside the Association, quite a few people had been skeptical about the plan to pre-select Baek Woobin for Aegis. They called it a gamble based on nothing but a few testimonies and circumstantial evidence.

“…Ahaha.”

A hollow laugh escaped her. Her eyes hadn’t been wrong after all.

Baek Woobin was no ordinary awakener. If her hunch was correct, he was a talent who existed completely outside the norm.

“I don’t have time to sit around.”

Lee Chaeyeon shot up from her chair without hesitation.

The chair ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scraped loudly against the floor, but she didn’t care. She snatched Baek Woobin’s profiling file and the copied Aegis pre-selection consent form off her desk and clutched them to her chest.

Then she started moving.

She had to register him immediately. Before any other guild could discover this monster.