Temporary Badge
“Ah, just leave it like that. Thank you.”
“Wait—you’re buying all of this? Mana cotton and mana cloth?”
“Yes.”
The middle-aged shopkeeper’s eyes went round as saucers.
In this world, general goods stores were everywhere. They dealt in the minor, miscellaneous odds and ends that didn’t quite justify a specialty shop of their own—low-grade scrolls, gate antiques, mana cloth, and the like. Items too niche to sell alone, yet not so unwanted that nobody would buy them, all piled together under one roof.
I had come to the nearest general store in the neighborhood.
“Heh heh heh.”
A satisfied smile spread across the shopkeeper’s face at the prospect of offloading so much mana cloth in one go. I had, after all, cleaned out every scrap of stock he had on the shelves.
He packed the fabric I’d purchased neatly into boxes as he asked, “Student, you working on some kind of graduation project? Didn’t take you for one, but you’re a college kid, huh?”
“Not quite. I’m buying it for business.”
He tilted his head. “Business? A student?”
“Yep. So I’ll be coming back to buy more pretty often.”
“…….”
What was that?
For a split second, the look in the shopkeeper’s eyes seemed to change—from a friendly ^_^ to a full-on ₩_₩, money signs spinning.
Apparently the promise of ongoing transactions at a scale rarely seen in a neighborhood general store had flipped a switch in his brain. Those kindly pupils were now darting around like a madman’s.
Somehow my tone grew more careful.
“Sooo… going forward, I’d appreciate it if you could stock regular mana cloth by color.”
Just then, the television noise from the back of the shop cut off, replaced by a rustling sound. A moment later, a generously proportioned ajumma bustled out, fussing with her permed curls.
“Miss~ What was it you wanted?”
She advanced with an intimidating amount of presence and an equally intimidating figure. I took a small step back.
“M-mana cloth by color… preferably dyed with natural dyes, if possible.”
“Oh my, of course! Honey, you help her with the checkout. I’ll pack these up.”
She gave the shopkeeper a firm pat on the back, and he strode off toward the counter with renewed vigor.
“Student, how do you want to pay? Installments?”
I held out my debit card, a little dazed. “In full, please.”
“Great, paid in full~ Fifty-four million three hundred twenty-one thousand won. Wow, how does it come out to exactly 54,321? Isn’t that wild? Right? You think so too, right?”
“Huh? Ah—yes, yes.”
“And delivery to this address?”
“Yes. If you would.”
“Hyesung Aquaville! Whoa, so you’re a young lady from a nice place, huh?”
“Hehe.”
This was exhausting.
I was never coming back here again.
That evening, I introduced the newly made Party Bears to Yena.
As always, Yena gathered the Party Bears around and launched into a full speech for the newcomers.
“No fighting! You have to get along, and ranking yourselves by strength is banned. And… you basically need to know how to run every single ride. Got it, everyone?”
“Kyuuik. (What’d she say?)”
“Beep. (Dunno.)”
“Mm-hm, good good. Looks like you all understood perfectly. Follow me now—I’ll show you around the amusement park!”
The Party Bears looked thoroughly bewildered, yet somehow they grasped every word with uncanny precision. Waddling along behind Yena, they started murmuring among themselves about her—mostly variations on why a human was in charge of them.
I decided to help them get the picture a little faster.
Perfect timing.
A few Party Bears were huddled in a corner of the hamburger stand, chewing on something. They were secretly gobbling up leftover mana cotton from earlier.
“No freeloading!”
Wham!
My foot struck a Party Bear’s head dead-on. With my newly strengthened power, the bear’s body bounced off the rides like a rubber ball, ricocheting several times before vanishing from sight.
The new Party Bears flinched and exchanged looks.
{……!!}
“Unnie!!!”
That was when Yena came running with a shriek and started whacking me on the back.
“I told you—not—to hit them—for no reason!”
“Aaah, sorry. Sorry.”
“Not to me—apologize to the Doris!”
“…….”
“Apologize!”
“A boss doesn’t apologize.”
“Huh?”
“A superior can’t go around apologizing to subordinates, can they?”
“Pecia! Apologize right now!”
In the end, I offered the Party Bears a perfunctory apology. The one who’d actually been kicked and sent flying still hadn’t come back, but Yena had completely forgotten that detail and nodded in satisfaction.
Before I knew it, the new Party Bears had both paws folded neatly in front of them. Etiquette training: complete.
“Yena— Mom’s home.”
“Mom! Baby Doris, look over here—this is our mom!”
For the most part, the new Party Bears showed no particular interest in Kang Jiye. They confirmed she was a protected person and toddled off. In their place, other Party Bears came scurrying over—Yena’s personal guard, the ones who lived with us at home.
Kang Jiye, naturally carrying First Dori on her shoulders, looked over the newcomers.
“You made a ton again, huh?”
“Yes. About twenty of them.”
“Wow. Twenty C-class. That’s enough firepower to wipe out most lower-tier guilds without breaking a sweat.”
After that murmur of admiration, Kang Jiye suddenly turned to look at me. Her eyes curved into crescents, and both corners of her mouth were twitching.
……?
I asked, puzzled, “What is it?”
Looking like she was about to die laughing, Kang Jiye sat down beside me.
“Be honest with me. You’re about A-class now, aren’t you?”
“Um……”
I honestly didn’t know.
I’d one-shot a Giant Stone Gargoyle, so roughly that level? But that had been me messing with its mana circuits—hardly pure raw power.
The scary thing about Pecia was that you couldn’t gauge the danger by class alone. Honestly, if it came down to pure fistfighting, a handful of S-class hunters could probably subdue her. Factor in that peculiar cunning and the card spells, though, and her combat power stretched and snapped like a rubber band.
In practical terms, Pecia’s level was world-class. The protagonist’s party had to face that with a small group, which was why they’d struggled so badly.
“You can’t measure my combat power by mana alone. Pure numbers? Maybe around B-class.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Kang Jiye crossed her arms. “Hmm. Unexpected. Which means your skills are Legendary-grade, then.”
“…….”
That was the term used to rank skills of the same type against each other. The gap was especially stark with asymmetric skills like mental-type abilities—sometimes a B-class skill could even devour an A-class one.
But…
I blinked in mild surprise. “They are Legendary, actually. How did you know?”
As the name suggested, Legendary-grade skills were anything but common—even among boss-class magical beasts. I’d never bothered to mention it, so how had she figured it out?
Kang Jiye answered lightly. “Because you reflected a high-tier mental skill.”
Reflected?
“Ah—”
She was talking about that pervert from earlier, wasn’t she.
No wonder.
Crude as it was, transmitting a voice directly into someone’s head wasn’t easy. You needed a skill of a fairly high grade just to pull it off.
“Well, something like that did happen. But how did you find out about it, Auntie?”
“That guy’s the owner of a Hunter Administration partner company.”
“Whaaat?”
“Pfft!”
Unable to hold it in any longer, Kang Jiye burst out laughing and filled me in on the whole story.
“Hey! Hold him tight!”
“Don’t move, you little bastard!”
“Director! Are you all right?!”
The staff frantically seized Joker’s arms and pinned him down. A secretary whipped out wet wipes and tissues and began dabbing at Kim Hansoo’s face and clothes.
Joker took one look at the chaos of the conference room and erupted into high-pitched laughter.
“Uwahahahahaha—hahahaha!!”
“This crazy little—!”
“Stay still! You wanna die?!”
“Ohoh, ohoh, ohohohahahahaha!!”
“That’s it. We’re breaking something.”
“Ah—enough. Manager Kim.”
Kim Hansoo stopped the sycophantic subordinate who was about to hit Joker. Then he lowered his gaze, lost in thought. The Director of the Incheon Branch himself had just been doused in urine by someone barely more than a child.
“…….”
The way the flesh of his cheeks kept twitching made it clear he was furious—properly furious. Knowing Kim Hansoo’s meticulous nature, just imagining what might come next was terrifying. The conference room froze over as if frost might form at any moment.
“Hahahahaha!!”
But then Kim Hansoo suddenly laughed—openly, freely. The staff, who’d been bracing for a tirade, stared blankly at one another at this unexpected reaction.
Kim Hansoo rose from his seat and clapped his hands.
“Everyone, applause!”
“……?”
“……Excuse me?”
“Did he not just brilliantly counter the trap I sent? Yes—if you’re going to take part in a Hunter Administration operation, you need at least this much. Absolutely! Hahaha!”
Kim Hansoo had already understood the situation from the moment he’d been hit from behind. Getting people to commit rudeness against their superiors was a classic Joker move.
“…….”
The subordinates couldn’t manage any reaction at all. They couldn’t tell whether Kim Hansoo’s response was sarcasm or genuine.
So Kim Hansoo raised his voice even louder. “What are you all doing?! Is nobody clapping?!”
Only then did the staff begin to applaud, one by one.
“Louder!”
Clap clap clap clap clap clap!!
In an instant, the conference room filled with applause. Belated flattery and whistles followed from the subordinates.
“Wooo—! Looking sharp, Director!”
“A true man of magnanimity!”
“Hahahaha, yes, yes! Kwahahahaha!”
“……He’s actually a really decent person.”
I felt a little bad, honestly. I’d just assumed he was an idiot and handled him accordingly—never imagining he was a trusted agent sent by Kang Jiye’s superior.
How was that even possible? A man who could get peed on by a subordinate decades younger and still laugh like that. Clearly, not just anyone became Director of a Hunter Administration branch.
Kang Jiye paused for a beat, then smiled in a faintly complicated way. “Well… yes. A real big-hearted guy.”
“You didn’t get in trouble, did you, Auntie?”
With Safety Keepers, the hunter who selected them bore full responsibility. It wouldn’t have been strange if she’d been punished for picking a weirdo.
Kang Jiye shook her head. “Nothing like that. He just told me to bring you to the Incheon Branch.”
Ah. Finally.
“When?!”
“Tomorrow. Wear this.”
What Kang Jiye held out was a small flower-shaped badge. An A was engraved at its center.
“What’s this?”
“A provisional measurement badge. Safety Keepers can’t have their ranks disclosed for confidentiality reasons, so they decided to classify you—the one who toyed with a B-class—as A-class.”
“……!”
“You understand what that means, right? From now on, the Hunter Administration is going to start paying attention to you. Even outside this operation.”
“Is this normal? They don’t usually hand out A-class rankings that easily.”
Kang Jiye let out a sigh. “Well… look. Even if our Director starts being a pain going forward, just… bear with him, okay?”
……Huh?
The next day.
A luxury aerial vehicle descended onto the apartment rooftop.
It was there to escort a distinguished guest.