Smash
Hanul's body was a newly formed vessel.
In other words, he was not an Awakener as defined by Earth's system.
So, strictly speaking?
That Association President wasn't entirely wrong when he insisted I retake the Awakener test.
If the results came out normally, he wouldn't register as an Awakener at all. This newly formed body had never undergone an Awakening.
But!
Did that mean he had no power?
Absolutely not.
Quite the opposite!
A spiritual body elevated to an entirely different tier through the condensation of demonic energy. Driven by its impulse, the mana core began to spin.
Power of a completely different caliber from any Awakener!
"We'll begin with the physical ability measurements."
The examiner who had escorted Hanul to the mana measurement device—his voice was trembling.
He had brought him into the testing room. But he could no longer defy the Association President's orders. Especially not when those orders had come with specific instructions on how to screw him over once the test began.
The machine's sensitivity had already been dialed to its absolute limit—a trap designed so that even the slightest fluctuation in power would register as a measurement failure.
And then what?
A retest.
But trying again would change nothing. With the sensitivity settings sabotaged, the result would be the same. The whole scheme was meant to wear Hanul down through endless repetition.
Of course, Hanul had already read the examiner's mind with Abyss Spectrum, and he had seen right through Go Changsik's orders to waste his time and humiliate him.
You want to screw me over? Then you'd better be ready to take some losses yourselves.
A crystal-orb measuring device. Hanul lightly closed his hand around it.
KRAK-CHIK—!
The sound of a normal measurement?
No—this was nothing like it, and the examiner's face went blank with panic.
"W-what the—?!"
It sounded like metal screaming as it twisted itself apart.
CRASH!
Shards of the crystal orb sprayed outward. The internal panel had failed to withstand the pressure and exploded.
"······."
Silence settled over the room. Black smoke curled up from what remained of the device.
"Did it measure?"
Hanul asked flatly. The examiner checked his tablet with shaking hands.
"I-it didn't work."
"The machine's too weak. Bring another one."
"Y-yes, sir."
A Hunter Association staffer dragged over a spare unit. Hanul placed his hand on the crystal orb again and let a single thread of energy flow from his mana core.
CRACKLE!
Spiderweb fractures raced across the surface of the orb—
ZZZT— KRA-KRA-KRASH!
—and a violet flash erupted as it shattered to pieces.
"Tsk. This one doesn't work either. Did someone tamper with the equipment?"
"N-no, sir."
No, my ass. You sabotaged it on the Association President's orders.
But the result of that sabotage?
Crystal orbs—boom! boom!
Expensive equipment exploding one after another, and they were the only ones taking the losses.
"Bring another one."
BOOM!
"Another!"
BOOM!
Six already destroyed. Apparently the Association staff couldn't stomach the budget hit any longer, because the next crystal orb they brought had its sensitivity settings restored to normal.
But at this point, did that even matter?
So it wasn't the Association President's order—the staff here fixed it on their own.
"Th-this is the last crystal orb we have. Please, if you could just handle it carefully—aaagh!"
BOOM!
"Are these all defective? Why does every single one end up like this? That was the last one, you said?"
The testing room floor was already a sea of crystal shards. And the staffers' faces?
Bone white.
Each of those orbs was worth tens of billions of won. The Association's budget was being scattered into the air in real time. And they couldn't even pin the blame on the person being measured.
"Heheh, the Association's gonna go bankrupt, yong~"
Hatchery clapped her hands in delight. Baek Hayan shuddered.
The mana sensitivity of those orbs was abnormal. He deliberately targeted that and blew them up!
Simply having overwhelming power? She'd already learned that at the Veteran Guild headquarters. But here, she was watching him wield that power with surgical precision.
"If there's no more equipment, what about registration?"
Hanul asked, utterly indifferent to the chaos around him.
"L-let's proceed to the next stage first. We'll bring another unit once the equipment from the other examinees frees up."
"What a hassle."
"I-I'm sorry."
"Forget it. Just show me the way."
Hanul turned on his heel.
The physical ability testing room. Bizarre machines stood in imposing rows—multi-ton hydraulic presses, ultra-precision laser sensor tracks, special alloy sandbags designed exclusively for S-class Hunters. Examiners huddled in the corner, casting sidelong glances at Hanul and muttering among themselves.
"So that's the bastard? The one who blew up everything in the mana measurement room?"
"No wonder the Association President can't stand him."
"What a pain in the ass. Crawl out of the woodwork after thirty years and just keep your head down, would you?"
These were different examiners from the ones in the mana measurement room. All they'd heard was secondhand gossip over the internal messenger—they hadn't witnessed the terror firsthand. So they still hadn't gotten the message, grumbling among themselves without a care.
"He's a mental-type ability user anyway, right? Physical stats are probably garbage."
"We've got the Association President's orders, but this guy makes you want to mess with him even more."
The same petty pranks they always pulled on examinees they didn't like. Old habits died hard, and they were at it again.
"Crank the equipment settings to maximum. I want to watch him sweat through the physical tests."
"A mental-type like him should count himself lucky if he doesn't snap a wrist. Heh heh."
They snickered as they finished adjusting the machines. Around then, Hanul casually stepped up to the first device.
First, the strength test. A grip-strength meter forged from special steel. Hanul took hold of the handles and applied a light squeeze of force.
In that instant—
Screeeech— KRA-KRUNCH!
The machine let out a scream. The hydraulic pump, built to withstand extreme pressure, began surging in reverse. The steel handles crumpled and deformed into the shape of Hanul's fingers.
PFOOM!
A hydraulic hose that couldn't take it any longer thrashed like a snake and burst apart. Black oil erupted in a fountain, drenching the examiners' faces.
"Eek! What the hell?!"
The examiners' faces went ashen in an instant. Their smirks flipped straight into despair. How much budget did that single machine represent? Tens of billions of won!
They were starting to feel it now—the same thing the examiners in the mana measurement room had felt.
"N-next is agility. You need to pass through one hundred laser sensors······."
Next came the agility test. A track course laid out with a hundred sensors. Ordinarily, no one made it through all hundred—the point was to see how far you got. And since this one didn't involve direct impact, at least it shouldn't break.
Or so they expected.
Wrong.
Hanul stood on the track. The starting signal sounded, and his form blurred out of existence.
KRAAAAAANG!
A sonic boom swept through the indoor space as he shattered the sound barrier. Friction heat from the air melted the urethane coating on the track floor.
And the result?
ZZZT— PFOOM! PFO-PFO-PFOOM!
PFO-PFOOM! ZZZT— PFOOM!
PFO-PFO-PFO-PFO-PFOOM!
A cascade of explosions like a drum ensemble. Laser sensors worth tens of millions of won each chain-detonated from overload, one after another.
"N-no! Those are imported laser units!"
The examiners clutched their heads and sank to the floor. Precision equipment that took half a year just to order from overseas. All one hundred of them, destroyed without a single survivor!
The only thing left intact? The results monitor. And on that screen, a red warning light was blinking.
Equipment overload — all sensors destroyed
"Wait, please—don't start the next test yet······."
The striking-power test still remained. A special alloy sandbag built to withstand the full-power strike of an S-class Hunter. But by this point, the examiners knew perfectly well that everything Hanul touched exploded. Still, before the examiner could even finish speaking, Hanul was already standing in front of it.
Thwap—
A fist shot forward. At a glance it looked like a casual jab, but the compressed vacuum wave generated at the tip of his knuckles struck the sandbag first.
KRA-WOOOONG!
A multi-ton mass of alloy crumpled like a sheet of paper. The support beams holding up the ceiling bent like soft taffy and ripped free.
KRAAAAAANG!
The sandbag rocketed away at near-supersonic speed and punched straight through the wall. A massive hole tore open in the Association building's exterior, and sunlight flooded in.
"······."
The testing room had become a scrapyard in the span of a breath. The examiners couldn't even manage a scream anymore.
"How… how are we supposed to replace this······."
"This isn't a repair job—we'd have to rebuild the whole room······."
Hanul dusted off his fist and asked,
"Did it measure?"
The examiner checked his tablet with trembling hands. Nothing but a red warning light blinked on the screen.
"I… it didn't. The equipment was destroyed before any numbers could register······."
"Tsk. Not a single decent piece of gear in this place."
Hatchery chimed in right on cue.
"That's right, yong! Bringing Master toys this cheap and broken—is this really all the Association can manage, yong?"
Meanwhile, Baek Hayan and Seo Jihun stood behind them, mouths hanging open. That alloy sandbag was something even Baek Hayan, an S-class, would have to put her full power into just to dent. And he'd sent it flying with nothing but the air pressure from a punch that never even made contact. How could anyone not shudder?
"Then I suppose it's on to the next one. Telekinesis was next, wasn't it?"
The examiners' faces went the color of dirt in an instant. The telekinesis measurement equipment consisted of only two ultra-expensive units in the entire Association. The moment that monster laid a hand on them, those would turn to dust too—that much was obvious.
"Y-you don't have to! You really don't have to do it!"
The examiners waved their hands frantically, nearly collapsing. The mana measurement room staff had almost certainly felt the same way.
"We'll… we'll somehow restore your old records! We'll dig through the entire network if we have to and find them!"
Hanul's eyes narrowed.
"The records were deleted, weren't they?"
"Well… they should still be somewhere on a backup server! We'll find them somehow and restore everything!"
At that, Hatchery narrowed her eyes and stepped forward.
"Oh? So you could do it, but you lied and said you couldn't, yong?"
Gone was the cute little girl who'd been sucking on a lollipop just moments before.
"I'm asking if you pulled some scheme to drag Master all the way out here just to mess with him, yong."
Violet demonic energy swirled and pressed down on the entire testing room.
Wooooom—!
An overwhelming presence. The ceiling trembled faintly, and cracks spiderwebbed across the floor.
The examiners' pupils began to glaze over. They were on the verge of foaming at the mouth and passing out when Hanul reached out and gently patted Hatchery on the head.
"That's enough."
The killing intent vanished as if washed away. Hatchery pouted and reined in her power.
"But Master, these humans······."
"It's fine. Thanks to them, I've had a rather entertaining experience."
Hanul smiled faintly and looked back. Hundreds of billions of won in equipment lay scattered as piles of scrap metal. The scene looked like it had taken a direct bomb hit. His gaze settled on the firmly closed door ahead.
"And the best part is still to come."
A flick of his eyes indicated the next testing chamber—the most expensive, the most precise, and clearly the one the Hunter Association treasured above all others. The telekinesis testing room.
"Show me the way."
The examiners could only stare at each other, their minds blank. If anything else broke here, it would truly be the end. But Hatchery planted herself in front of them, hands on her hips.
"You heard Master! Hurry up and guide us, yong!"
"Th-this way······."
With shaking hands, the examiners swiped their security cards. Beep—the heavy metal door opened, and the telekinesis measurement room revealed itself at last.