Chapter 5
Chapter 5
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: 2. Promotion Exam (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Seoul's promotion exam hall.
It was bustling like a marketplace with applicants who had gathered since early morning. Hunters who received their initial rank had the right to take the "promotion exam" at the local exam hall if they were B-Rank or below.
Pass, and they advance in rank.
Fail, and they stay the same.
A very simple rule.
Hunters A-Rank and above underwent periodic evaluations of their abilities, but those below faced no real penalties for failure. To prevent reckless exam attempts, they simply imposed a six-month waiting period after a fail. That was why most only took the exam when confident of success—but as with all things in life, plenty lacked that certainty.
"So, that's the registration done?"
"Yes, please wait in the lounge."
"Thanks."
A hunter submitted his application and walked away.
As he departed, the examiner's face twisted in disgust.
"Ugh, why don't these kids know their place these days? Applying for C-Rank with that kind of record."
"Another dud?"
"Obviously. The guy's barely done any D-Rank raids, yet he struts in for C-Rank review. These types are the problem. We assign fair difficulty levels, but when clueless fools get themselves killed, it all gets pinned on the exam hall's management."
"Kids these days are all like that. No skill, no sense."
"Fucking idiots."
The nearby examiner grumbled in agreement.
Fifty years ago.
At the time of the first cataclysm, most hunters awakened with innate abilities. But as time passed and second- and third-generation hunters were born, acquired awakenings through artificial means became common. Numerically, later generations dominated, but in quality, they inevitably fell short of the first-gen hunters.
Hunter.
A dangerous but iconic high-income job.
With wealth and fame ripe for the taking, overconfident fools like the one earlier were a dime a dozen.
"It's all the media hyping up the glamorous side. Now with these 'star hunters' acting like celebrities, it draws in even more dimwits."
The two griped on for a while.
Then the next applicant stepped up.
A man in his early-to-mid twenties submitted his form.
"Kang San, age 25. F-Rank hunter, and you've run quite a few raids, I see?"
"Yes."
"Impressive. Most F-Ranks quit the hunter life. Anyway, for the E-Rank promotion exam, your preferred position is... Huh? You're really going for Tanker?"
The examiner eyed him in surprise.
He had good reason.
Tanker.
A step up from "Arrow Sponge," but the implications were clear.
"Yes, that's correct."
Number one in death rate.
Number one in positions to avoid.
Kang San wanted that role.
After transferring 105 million won to Kim Chun-sik,
Kang San received his awaited reward.
All stats had risen by 2.
Kang San felt a surge of emotion at finally hitting 30 in a stat. At his initial awakening, he'd been saddled with dismal numbers—stuck in the low teens. Raising them had taken endless toil, countless hurdles overcome to reach this point.
He calmed his feelings.
Stats mattered, but skills were key.
A 1-star skill.
Not particularly strong effects.
But Kang San knew what Guardian Shield meant.
'The basic tanker skill.'
Hunters fell into three broad categories.
Dealers, Tankers, Supports.
Sub-roles varied by ability (e.g., dealers as mages, archers, assassins), but each position had essential baseline skills. Dealers amplified damage, supports buffed allies or healed, tankers redirected enemy aggro.
Guardian Shield was a tanker staple.
'Spot-on concept.'
Azmun's intent shone through.
In resolving his karma, Azmun demanded sacrifice and devotion—selfless acts.
Hence, skills that aligned.
Not bad at all.
Kang San wasn't the devoted type, but tankers commanded premium value in the hunter world.
The reason was obvious.
Tankers shielded allies from the front line. Supports existed to sustain them, but when things went south, tankers died first. Hunter Management Bureau stats confirmed it: tankers topped death rates by far.
Thus, a skilled tanker became a walking goldmine, raking in massive earnings. There'd once been a tanker boom, but most short-lived hopefuls perished, reverting it to a shunned role.
'High risk, high return. Perfect for me.'
The more he thought, the better it seemed.
F-Rank arrow sponge.
Risking life for pocket change was worse than a cool title like tanker.
He approved.
As long as rewards flowed, any position worked.
Goal set.
Azmun paved the path; Kang San would follow.
'First up: promotion. Can't join high-level raids at this rank.'
Promotion exam.
To grow, he needed to shed the F-Rank arrow-sponge label.
Thus, at dawn, he headed to the exam hall.
About thirty minutes of waiting?
The examiner called the applicants.
"Applicants 31 through 40, follow me."
They moved to a separate indoor venue: the "Virtual Reality Training Hall," where basic aptitude was tested.
Promotion exams had two stages.
First: basic aptitude test.
A quick check if the applicant met baseline skills for the target rank.
Pass that, and they qualified for the second stage: practical combat. Most exam deaths—social scandals—happened there. Originally, no split existed when the system launched, but with surging unqualified applicants, it changed ten years ago.
The examiner spoke.
"We'll now begin the basic aptitude test. Enter the individual VR training pod, and you'll control a preset character in a virtual space. Perform the assigned mission based on your position and traits. No complaints about the character—it’s tuned to handle the task if you have the skill for this rank. Failure means you're unqualified, not the character."
His voice was ice-cold.
After a few questions, applicants proceeded one by one.
"Applicant 38."
"Yes."
Kang San's turn.
Following instructions, he entered the VR pod. The world warped, space turning pure white.
Flash.
No time to dwell.
Ogres emerged from the light ahead as the explanation ended.
Grrr.
Woof! Woof!
Familiar foes.
Just days ago, he'd faced them—no tension shown.
'Not too tough.'
Virtual character.
This one's overall stats sat at 30—higher than Kang San's real body, plus a "Reaction Speed" tertiary stat. Far better conditions than his F-Zone ogre fights with lower stats. He'd cleared four back then; this aptitude test was a breeze.
'Might as well ace it perfectly.'
Woof! Woof!
The ogres charged.
Kang San hugged his shield tight, parrying the first's fangs with his sword.
Clang!
Crisp ring.
Quick sidestep.
The follow-up claw grazed past; a kick to the ogre's flank, then shield block against pincer attacks from both sides. His body rocked—E-minimum stats made ogre hits burdensome still.
But.
Heh.
'Manageable.'
Kang San grinned.
Years as F-Rank arrow sponge.
Normals would blame the character; for him, this was prime compared to past scraps.
Under relentless assault, his defense held firm. Raid-honed arrow-sponge savvy shone; not a single hit landed. Mere survival passed the test. But scores factored in aptitude too—and high marks required remembering one key: position.
Whoosh!
Ogre lunging past.
Aimed at "something" behind.
Kang San triggered his skill.
'Guardian Shield.'
Flash!
Aggro redirected.
The skill—standard on tanker chars—yanked the raging ogres' gazes to him. Tanker's duty: keep monsters off rear dealers with smart aggro control. Real raids weren't games; it was high skill, but Kang San nailed it effortlessly.
Past years.
Surviving as F-Rank arrow sponge wasn't luck.
He'd always had tanker talent, just no skills to shine.
Clang-!
Clang clang!
Attacks persisted.
No countering allowed this mission.
Pure tanker quals checked—no swings despite chances. Even as tanker long-term, he wouldn't just defend. Ideal: cull front-line mobs while tanking.
But this was a test.
He stuck to rules faithfully.
Soon, the awaited voice.
Beep-
Test over.
Exiting, Kang San sensed other applicants' gazes shift.
Likely spot-on.
Because.
The electronic board's score.
Highest possible in basic aptitude.
This test felt good.