Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: 13. A Needle in the Pocket (5)
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It wasn't rational.
As if he knew the ground was about to collapse, he used Gravity to cushion the fall's impact and even escaped with the fringe magic Jump. If he'd reacted to the variable so swiftly through sheer skill, it would have been truly impressive. But for Jung Hye-mi, who had overseen countless tests, she couldn't easily accept something so utterly irrational.
'This doesn't make sense.'
In her mind.
The puzzle pieces fell into place.
If Jung Chan-woo's party had gotten word from an insider, everything—from handling the darkness so naturally to this current situation—made perfect sense. That magical phrase, 'prepared in advance.' If that premise held true, she could wrap her head around the absurd preparedness of a mage versed in fringe spells. It was far more plausible than the less-than-1% chance they'd simply coped with pure skill: the existence of cheating.
If that had been the end of it.
Jung Hye-mi might have lodged a formal protest.
But in the footage she'd watched with caution, one shocking scene after another played out, plunging her deeper into disbelief.
This time, stalactites rained down.
Jung Chan-woo reacted.
Having constantly scanned his surroundings, the moment he spotted the stalactites trembling, he moved first. Was this because he knew about the 'trap'? No. His hyper-vigilance let him react, and the footage itself proved his defense had solid justification.
'Was Chan-woo always this good?'
It was genuinely surprising.
Jung Hye-mi knew her brother's abilities better than anyone.
She'd worked at Heavenly Firmament since the day he first dreamed of becoming a hunter, so his data lived rent-free in her head. That made this feel all the stranger. The brother she knew had a careless streak, yet she'd never seen him check his surroundings so obsessively and respond in kind. What on earth had happened in that brief stretch without contact? It was astounding.
Her admiration was short-lived.
Next up: Jo Han-byeol.
As the Green Spider's head pierced through mid-ambush, a flicker of dread hit Jung Hye-mi.
'No way.'
Maybe, just maybe.
This might actually be the real deal.
No matter how she rejected it as illogical, their footage-proven synergy—meshing to cover each other—was simply too outstanding. Just look at the mage. Secure in his comrades' protection, he never broke his cast. The tanker up front orchestrated the chaos, tolerating zero variables.
Overwhelming teamwork.
Quality beyond a C-Rank test.
And judging individuals alone, even Project B Team couldn't claim superiority with confidence.
Her own protégés.
Could they tank like that guy?
Blast firepower nonstop like that mage?
Hit their marks perfectly, like the archer and her brother, to keep the party humming?
That, too.
Boiled down to personal skill.
Repeated signals proved it was skill, not luck, and somewhere along the line, the 1% hypothesis she'd dismissed became reality. The footage demanded it. With hard evidence piling up before her eyes, Jung Hye-mi wasn't the type to deny reality out of spite. Perfect synergy, all premised on that tanker—Kang San—not buckling.
And then.
Snap.
The footage cut.
The insider's voice reached Jung Hye-mi's ears.
"What do you think? Still smell a fix?"
The insider smirked.
Jung Hye-mi's face was priceless.
She'd arrived looking resolute, but now wore a hollow, world-crumbled stare.
"We were thrown at first ourselves. Whatever curveball hit, they handled it flawlessly—enough to suspect leaks. But proctors like us have run endless tests. By the five-minute mark, we knew: pure skill."
That moment.
Everyone marveled.
Judging hats off, they just savored the flawless clear.
"We see the cooperation details. Think the sixth party positioned randomly? Hardly. Front tanker always claimed spots shielding rear DPS, herding mobs right as casts wrapped. Mage trusted them fully, laser-focused on offense, pacing himself perfectly—no overreach. The other two? Amid variables galore, they pivoted fast on attack and defense shifts. That's field grit. Real-combat scars you can't fake or fabricate."
Their eyes met.
Jung Hye-mi had no comeback.
"Project B Team? Puppets on Heavenly Firmament's stage—couldn't handle jack. Real combat? Your hotshots wouldn't last. Splatted at 10m drop. Teammates rushing to save the gimped mage? Wiped, proving greenhouse pets. Still sore? Tough—the sixth party's results just jacked difficulty, and no crowd buys your sob story."
Her words hit home, one by one.
She conceded.
Couldn't argue.
"Perfect counterexample exists—who sides with Team Leader now?"
Total defeat.
She stepped out.
Jung Hye-mi looked conflicted.
All the blood, sweat for Project B Team... felt worthless now.
'Am I the problem?'
Scouted talent.
Systematic support.
Science-backed drills, phased combat—Project B rocketed ahead. Satisfaction swelled. Hit goals, and Heavenly Firmament gains its own pipeline, not just poaching.
But.
She'd witnessed the ideal party.
What Project B should've been: Kang San's crew nailed it.
'Insider nailed it. Project B's just hothouse flowers.'
That's real combat.
Prep flawless? One slip, dead from concussion.
Absurd or not—if it happens, own it. Min Young-gi's excuses? Pointless. No prior precedent doesn't invalidate this one. Warned it mimicked combat, yet whine 'real fights don't do this'? Nonsense. Train harder. No repeats means field-grind like live fire.
'Can't ditch Project B. Accept flop, adapt.'
Issue: fallout now.
Knight's 'sift the chaff' spiel flops—need negativity blackout.
Public vibe?
Prove later.
Real fix: disappoint dad, execs over results.
Jung Hye-mi knew how.
'Poach top talent, spin loss as win.'
Sixth party.
Recruit them.
Texted unresponsive Chan-woo, then pinged HQ for files.
Chan-woo's crew.
Who?
Backgrounds?
Gotta ID 'em to roadmap recruitment.
Ten minutes later.
Staff dropped a bombshell.
"What?"
Why.
Today, zilch went to plan—A to Z.
That same moment.
Kang San's group stayed grounded.
Mass promotion—one rank each—huge win, but discussion first.
"Any misses today?"
Reviews were routine now.
Kang San's prompt; Jung Chan-woo confessed first.
"Boss fight—my response lagged. Fixated on downing it quick, got sloppy. If Han-byeol hyung missed the sky-dropping spiders, boss tunnel-vision would've slowed me."
"Good awareness. Complacency kills. Test or not—lives on line. Beyond today: monsters? Assume front view's all there is."
"Got it."
Chan-woo led.
Jo Han-byeol, Yeon Woo-bin followed suit.
Hye-mi and insiders called perfect; they spotted tweaks.
Kang San agreed.
Self-critiquing his gaps, a thought struck:
'What even sets trial thresholds?'
This test.
He could've smashed sub-30 if pushed, but played safe for wildcards. Post-Azmun unease: never drain 100% stamina—hoard 20-30% like compulsion.
Once figured trials patterned.
Recap: first, risk life for Kim Chun-sik; second, granny's bills—sacrifice for others. Third: Blood Orc ambush; Yeon Gyu-seong test: Hobgoblin—ratcheting corner-pressure.
Sacrifice.
Or penalty.
Kim Myung-min Ranger gig? No trial—hypothesis: voluntary sacrifice skips 'em.
Ergo, expected one for group promo. Tests? Azmun catnip. Patterns screamed hiccups. Grinding crew via reviews? Prep 'em for his trials—no needless risks.
'No trial here. So patterns? Just my headcanon.'
Unchartable.
Can't predict? Always brace.
Like his cursed life; schooling crew misfortune-proofing. Embrace the endless tunnel. Slack tension once—like Chan-woo's slip—and who knows what drops.
'I can't slack. 'Current-level doable' trials means growth-proof: complacency summons killers.'
Still.
Mood solid.
D-Rank now.
F-Rank drifters spotting him? Jaw-drop freakout.
Review wrapped.
Session end, stand to leave—phone buzzed.
"One sec."
Group nodded.
Picked up; stranger's voice.
This test.
Not just Jung Hye-mi eyed Kang San's crew.