This Watch is Damn Smart

This watch was pretty clever.

I figured since it was a disguised identity, they'd just whip up a new one for me—keeping the face and voice the same, maybe just swapping the name. And that's already impressive as hell. In this day and age, with Big Brother's eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠controlling everything in Korea, owning an alias? Huge.

"Can I register with this face?"

"Oh ho."

It can even detect that?

"Yeah."

For the name... after some serious thought, I decided to stick with my own.

Why? Simple—anyone who remembers it is long dead or gone. And even if someone recognizes the name, with a different face? They'd just chalk it up to a common homonym.

But the real reason? I wanted to belong to my country under my name.

'The sorrow of a man without a nation—farewell, today.'

And so, it's Ha Seong-un.

"Who am I?"

I ask the mirror. My reflection answers.

"Hunter of the Republic of Korea, Ha Seong-un."

Ah. What a touching title. Me, a citizen of the Republic of Korea. Overwhelming.

I'd been staring at the mirror for a good while when the watch called out to me.

"By the way, what's your name?"

"Calling you that every time would be a pain. Snow White? AIs don't have gender anyway."

"From now on, you're Whitey. 'Cause you're white."

"What's this important matter?"

The hologram popped up again.

"Whoa."

A cool ten million coins. Enough to snag a main piece of A-rank ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hunter gear.

'This is like ripping out the Association's foundational roots and dumping it all into national stocks.'

"Everyone knows the Korean Hunter Association is broke as hell, so how'd they scrape together this much?"

Modern nations clear Towers, snag artifacts as rewards, sell 'em for massive profits, buy better gear, and pass it to raid parties—climbers or strategy teams. Those parties gear up, clear higher, get better loot. That's the virtuous cycle other countries use to prep for Towers, selling byproducts along the way.

But Korea? The only country stuck outside that loop, barely hanging on. Can't clear the Tower, can't get artifacts. That's why we're artifact-poor—no loot to sell. We scrape by dispatching aid to crises abroad.

So how'd these poor bastards pull this off?

"Those guys were loaded?"

"Uh... is that allowed?"

...I'm truly grateful. But.

"Still not enough."

That's that, and this is business. Cold calculation: these coins are for prepping the "Lezonar emergence" emergency. I've got Black Market points stacked, but some artifacts are only on the legit market.

"Nothing else to confirm?"

"Alright then..."

I rummaged through the computer. I've got a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bucket list for once I become a hunter.

Topping the list: HunterNet, the official internet for hunters only!

"Fire up HunterNet."

* * *

Obviously, when I added HunterNet to my list, I pictured shitposting in the communities.

But no time for that now. Regrettably.

"I need hunter personal specs."

First time on HunterNet—where the hell do I even start?

"How do you use this? This site."

...Am I digitally illiterate? Me? In my prime? With nothing but a computer at home?

Struggling with the internet!

Like a lost senior at a kiosk, and a kind young'un steps in.

"Thanks, kid."

The UI's way different from DarkNet. Yeah. Whitey kindly projected a hologram.

"Min Ji-hee and Jin Cheon-jin. Don't need them... wait, no. Pull up Min Ji-hee."

Need to compare with the codex.

"?"

That's it?

"...Let's check Han Seol-ah."

That's really it.

"...Is there a difference in quality between HunterNet data and what you're showing?"

"...This is a problem."

The info's... way crappier than expected.

"Back channels?"

Whitey's hologram flashed red.

"Oh."

I grinned. Yeah, Min Ji-hee's creation wouldn't be some basic search engine.

"That's it. Scrape now."

"Filters, huh."

'Gotta find possession targets.'

Something bugged me since unlocking the Codex.

Why only Han Seol-ah, Min Ji-hee, and Jin Cheon-jin?

Answer was simple—common in games like this.

Affinity.

If it registered every hunter I knew, it wouldn't stop at three. Every hunter I'd met since my unawakened days wandering would be there.

And if it's just familiarity... next-door Cheol-su or Black Market's Kang Hyo-jun should've shown up.

They didn't. Confirmed: some affinity system.

To find possession targets, Codex for potential is key. To register in Codex, build affinity first.

"What do you think?"

I bounced it off Whitey.

"Other possibilities?"

Smart cookie. Whitey's alternate take was intriguing.

Next-door Cheol-su's just "the neighbor," Kang Hyo-jun's "market guy." In my head, they're extras or NPCs.

But the trio? Core Strategy Pieces, deeply recognized.

So conditions might be mutual "deep recognition" or "fated bond," not just meetings or liking.

'Hmm.'

Anyway, 15 days left. Need focus: affinity work or perception shifts.

"First... gotta be a tank."

Priority one.

"Someone called a genius."

"Include 'em. Even better."

What else? EX potential. Helps in Lezonar subjugation. Abilities for Tower 94 clear.

A "perfect tank."

"And..."

While honing conditions—

Ding!

Minimized Lost Honor pinged a quest alert.

"What? Now? This timing?"

Lezonar kill quest? Nah, pattern says Korea-saving epics drop "emergency" style, like 3 days out.

Checked the alert, puzzled.

"?"

What the—

"Look at this quest name?"

Is the system trolling me?

"...Who's that?"

Never heard of Lee Ah-un. S-rank should be famous.

Korea's S-ranks beyond the Association trio? No way.

"Impossible."

Another S-rank would've boosted our forces way more normally.

"Yeah, sure."

"Huh?"

Double-checked the quest. Says S-rank Hunter Lee Ah-un.

System glitch? Or Whitey messed up?

"Eh, next time then."

Whitey pulled up another screen.

"...Censored?"

Crack!

The hologram center crumpled like punched by an invisible fist, wobbling.

Like forcibly ripping forbidden info. The ability field flickered unstably.

ZZZzt—

Zzt! Crack!

Rough shattering noises from inside, then the red-hot screen cleared to calm text.

'...You can punch through censorship?'

Excellent.

"S-rank ability, but current rank C."

"Yeah."

Zzt—ZZZzt—

Same noise, then new text etched below.

Mana reflux?

"Isn't this super rare?"

Whitey's rundown matched what I knew: mana flows backward.

"Reflux amps body via fast mana circulation, right?"

Reflux. Body enhancement from D to S-rank.

S-rank Reflux? "Engine too powerful for the weak chassis—blows up. Shame."

Exists in Lost Honor too: debuff "Mana Reflux"—damage on mana use. Heals hurt worse. Tricky.

Treatment? Long-term meds only.

One cure: Red Elixir.

Basic elixir with "red" prefix—low-tier, but still elixir. Hard to craft, harder to get.

Nebula's warehouse is stocked, obviously.

'Can't bring game items to reality...'

"Just need Moonlight Weeping Grass, Rebirth Dew, Time Root."

Lost Honor's crafting mirrors reality (except Genesis gear's Grandcraft). Alchemy for elixirs is hyper-real: grind ratios, temps, etc.

If real-world matches game mats, I could brew it.

"Huh? Not warehouse."

"What."

Why? Korea's side products dried up from failed clears.

Checked HunterNet trading—yep, there.

'With this...!'

Be straight: befriending's impossible for me. NPCs only.

Forgot how even.

But imagine: angel descends on suffering Lee Ah-un, cures his chronic illness.

Skip awkward small talk straight to BFFs? Nah, more than friends.

Hero worship.

Incurable disease cured, after all.

"Not dodging. Efficiency."

Overwhelming capital. Unknown cure.

Game over.

Solid plan, right?

No extra rewards listed. Just that line.

'...Good boy.'

Devs are angels? Headache over next possession target—bam, answer served.