An Unprecedented Triple S-Rank
The instant Minho cleared the exam, the reporters waiting near Seungcheon Tower blasted their stories into the world.
Pre-written articles flooded the newsfeeds one after another, and in under five minutes Minho's name sat locked at number one on the real-time search rankings.
In a promotion exam, an S-rank meant everything.
Netizens argued back and forth over just how monumental consecutive S-ranks really were. From an ordinary person's perspective, it simply registered as "impressive." For people inside the hunter industry, the shock ran far deeper.
Mir Guildmaster Yong Cheonwoo ground his teeth until they squealed.
"He was B-class this time, wasn't he?"
"Yes, sir."
"How long has it been since that bastard climbed to C-class?"
"Two months ago."
"He hits the level cap two months after promotion and then pulls an S-rank on his very first exam?"
The newly appointed personnel officer bowed his head so low it nearly touched his chest. He hadn't committed any crime, yet his neck folded of its own accord. He was terrified that the rage boiling all the way up to Yong Cheonwoo's scalp would turn on him next.
Huuu.
Yong Cheonwoo dragged in a long breath—
"Fuckkkkkkkkk!!!!"
—and unleashed a roar loud enough to shake the entire building, not just the office. The mana-laced soundwave made the structure lurch as if an earthquake had struck. Only because defensive magic had been engineered into the place from the foundation up did the building merely tremble instead of coming apart under Yong Cheonwoo's tantrum.
"What's going on?!"
Hunters on guard duty outside burst in, startled.
"Everyone out."
"Guildmaster, are you all right?"
"I'm in a foul mood, so get the hell out of my sight."
The hunters scrambled from the office as if scalded. The personnel officer had just lifted his hips from the chair and was edging toward the door when—
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Ahah, haha."
"You think this is funny?"
"I'm sorry."
Looking thoroughly embarrassed, the personnel officer bowed his head again. Getting burned by Yong Cheonwoo's volcanic temper never ended with a simple scorch mark. Look what had happened to the previous personnel chief: every lawsuit and complaint had been piled onto him, and he had been forced out. To the guild it was nothing. To the man stamped as Yong Cheonwoo's "stress relief," life had become pure hell.
I can't end up like that.
Had the predecessor even been at fault? The petty tricks during Minho's recruitment had all been Yong Cheonwoo's idea. The officer was still picturing the previous man's defeated back when a cold voice yanked him into the present.
"Any good ideas?"
A bead of cold sweat rolled down his spine.
An unprecedented three consecutive S-ranks. On top of that, today's promotion exam had been for B-class—the rank that required enlightenment. Even hunters blessed with dazzling talent rarely vaulted that wall on the first try. Clearing it at all was already astonishing. An S-rank?
More than ten times the conditions we first offered.
Two hundred billion. No—even if they offered more than that, he could no longer guarantee they would land him. A hunter who had just set a record for the ages would naturally set his sights on S-class… or higher. There was a reason Jeong Seungil, the living fixture of the Rift Bureau, had called him the next SS-class.
And we're already on bad terms with a prospect like that.
In the span of a heartbeat the personnel officer finished his calculations and slowly opened his mouth.
"If we can't bring him in… wouldn't it be better to remove him?"
"Aren't you saying something rather frightening for a country under the rule of law?"
Yong Cheonwoo beamed. The smile said something entirely different from the words: Can you take responsibility for that?
The personnel officer swallowed hard. The proposal he had just made was, in fact, the correct answer. The problem was Yong Cheonwoo's reaction—he had no intention of letting the guild carry the blame.
"I-I'll take responsibility."
"Khhh. Your loyalty to the company moves me. I might actually cry."
Yong Cheonwoo laughed theatrically, then wiped the smile clean off his face.
"Method?"
"I intend to make contact with the Superhuman Bureau."
"Those idiots already failed."
"Isn't that better? They'll be grinding their teeth for another shot."
Mir Guild had no idea the Superhuman Bureau had contracted the Black Sky Society. Even Guildmaster Yong Cheonwoo only knew the organization in vague outline, treating it as just another dark-side hunter faction. He still regarded the recent gate-break incident as a simple accident.
"Since we've started this, do it properly."
"Understood."
A chill ran along the officer's throat as if a blade were hovering there. He bowed deeply and left the office without looking back.
"Commissioner. Well?"
"W-why are you doing this to me?"
Choi Jiung, Commissioner of the Rift Bureau, felt his lips twitch. The office door had been thrown open hard enough to nearly tear it off its hinges, and the man standing there—his senior and subordinate rolled into one—wore the look of someone waiting to go for a stroll. Irritation rose of its own accord.
"You can't just drop the beginning and the end of a conversation like that."
"Huuuuh."
Director Jeong Seungil let out a long, pained sigh. What on earth was wrong with this man?
"Just spit it out already, senior."
"That 'senior' business—"
"Do you honestly think your behavior is appropriate toward a superior?"
Choi Jiung's sharp words cooled Jeong Seungil's excitement.
"Ahem. Ahem. My apologies."
"Stop acting unlike yourself and tell me why you came."
"Hunter Park Minho has passed the B-class exam."
"Oh. Our first Ranger."
Choi Jiung put on an exaggerated look of surprise, then let his face go completely flat.
"That's within expected parameters, isn't it?"
Senior or not—if the man had charged into the Commissioner's office ready to smash the door for a reason that thin, there would be no forgiveness. Senior or not.
Whether he read Choi Jiung's thoughts or not, Jeong Seungil—normally famous for his wooden expression—twisted the muscles of his cheek. For a man of so little emotional display, it was the broadest smile he could manage.
"With an S-rank."
"Is that true?"
"Yes."
"Our Director still has an eye for people."
Choi Jiung smiled as well, softer this time.
"Three consecutive S-ranks, correct?"
"That's right."
"The lectures from the higher-ups should finally dry up."
The founding of the Rangers. The cooling of diplomatic relations with China over the Turang incident. Those two matters had earned the Rift Bureau no end of dirty looks from the powerful figures in the National Assembly.
"It was work that had to be done for the peace of this country."
"I know that. But the people upstairs treat civilian control like a sacred shrine, don't they?"
Armed organizations must remain under the control of a government chosen by the will of the people. Both men knew exactly how hard the lawmakers worked to uphold that principle. Even as the times changed and the standing and power of the major guilds surpassed the government in certain areas, the thinking inside the National Assembly building had not shifted one inch.
"I suppose I should go rub my hands together and ask for a little more budget."
"To support Hunter Park?"
"Listen here, senior. We've already formed a dedicated team just to support that friend of yours."
Choi Jiung freely scolded the only SS-class hunter in the Republic of Korea. Having inherited this tiresome post, the Commissioner had earned the right to chew out his senior-and-subordinate whether the man was a hero of the Great Cataclysm or not.
"Understood. Then that's all."
Finished speaking, Jeong Seungil spun on his heel.
"Leaving already?"
"Yes. I've delivered everything I came to say."
Anyone watching might have thought Minho belonged to the Rift Bureau. Choi Jiung clicked his tongue, already racing through calculations on how best to exploit this windfall.
Two days had passed since the promotion exam.
"You have rested well for the first time in a long while, my lord."
"Not that I wanted to rest."
I let out a long complaint. The moment I stepped out of the exam, an endless tide of people had been waiting for me. My fan club? Those people were gentlemen.
"I thought I'd gotten used to being hounded by reporters."
I had not. More reporters. Countless questions. Light flashed across every retina as if someone had bolted floodlights to their eyes.
What the hell. Scary.
"Hunter Park Minho is affiliated with our Seungcheon Agency."
President Baek. Nice!
That warm feeling lasted about three seconds.
"Then President Baek can answer for him!"
"Did you anticipate him promoting with an S-rank this time as well?"
"We heard you've entered a cooperative relationship with America's GGG!"
The reporters' barrage of questions made no distinction between targets. It felt like standing before a rising tidal wave and being able to do nothing but watch. Somehow we fielded the major questions and made it back to my studio apartment.
"There was more than one or two waiting upon my lord."
"Hoho. Anyone who wishes an audience with Master must first show that much effort."
Even with President Baek and the Rift Bureau providing cover, completely sealing people off had been impossible. If it had only been reporters, it would have been better.
"We've come from Chilseong Guild."
"How about a conversation with Hwarang?"
"Hunter Park!"
All five of the domestic top-tier guilds except Mir had sent people again as a baseline, and mid-sized and smaller guilds wandered around outside my apartment just hoping to exchange a single word.
Tsk. What a nuisance.
"Still, the crowd's thinned out some."
"Quite a few remain in hiding."
Even sharing the senses of Heavenly Martial Body did not mean everyone possessed detection abilities on Sir Isra's level. The same weapon produced wildly different power depending on whether an adult or a child wielded it.
"This much I can work with."
Rattle—
I opened the window and drew a deep breath.
Dark Stride
User's presence is suppressed.
Effect of Stealthy Footsteps further increases presence reduction.
Dark Stride, the built-in skill of the Black Spider Armor. Stacked with the talent I had inherited from Zaug—Stealthy Footsteps—it cut my presence down considerably. In a dense crowd, hiding a body was still difficult. With the number of reporters and guild personnel reduced this far, though, it was worth a try.
I stepped onto the windowsill, climbed outside, and scaled the wall. I had no idea what I thought I was doing. A discreet rendezvous with the driver who had parked some distance away.
"Where to, sir?"
"The workshop, please."
We moved with the caution of a spy operation. Whew. At last I would get to use the Death Blacksmith. An SS-class skill awarded as a promotion reward. I was looking forward to seeing what mechanism it ran on.