Dealer 1%, Supporter 99%

To learn more about this changed world, I headed over to NewTube.

What I was looking for was combat footage — real engagements or training videos. With the ratio of dealers to supporters flipped on its head, the combat meta had to have changed too.

The Tower's party system allowed a maximum of five members. That hadn't changed.

Back when dealers outnumbered supporters ninety-nine to one, the standard party was four dealers and a single supporter. And since supporters faced no competition, most of them were utterly hopeless, while the dealers — men and women forged in the crucible of cutthroat rivalry — were genuinely formidable.

Now it was the exact opposite. One dealer to ninety-nine supporters.

I clicked straight into the combat footage.

[Hunter Academy Exam — Floor 5 Boss Clear Footage]

"Tanker, front! One-three-one formation!"

At the order from what looked like the party leader, a healing-type supporter, the other three were already moving into position before she'd even finished her sentence — gliding into their marks with the kind of practiced precision of people who knew exactly what was required of them without being told. The supporters' competence was obvious at a glance.

And then there was…

"Dealer, sir! We're all set! You can attack now—"

"I-Is it really safe…?"

The so-called dealer stood with the boss right in front of him, his hands trembling like leaves. All he had to do was attack, but the moment the bound monster thrashed menacingly, he'd frozen up in terror. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠One look and you could tell this was not a man used to combat.

How on earth did a dealer like that even make it to the 5th floor…?

"Please attack, now…! If we delay any longer, the front line is in danger!"

"A-Are you rushing me right now?!"

"That's not what I—!"

The leader-supporter was burning up inside. She'd laid the entire table so all he had to do was lift his spoon, and he was complaining about the side dishes. She had to be losing her mind.

This was no game, no bit of play-acting. This was the Tower's 5th floor — a real fight, with lives on the line. In a situation balanced on a knife's edge, the party's only dealer was hesitating. Worse, he was brazenly throwing the blame back on her.

And yet…

"…Please. We need your attack, Dealer."

"F-Fine. I'll do it, okay…!"

In the end, the leader bowed her head to the dealer. Of course she did. She couldn't afford to anger him. There were plenty more supporters to replace her — supporters lined up out the door, begging for the chance to be taken along just once.

Having climbed to the 60th floor in that very position myself, I understood that reality more bitterly than anyone.

The dithering dealer finally launched his attack. His accuracy was abysmal, but the supporters had slathered him in so many buffs that raw damage carried the day, and the boss didn't last long.

"We did it…! That's my power!"

All he'd done was shake in his boots and then set his spoon on a table the supporters had laid out for him — and now this trash-tier dealer was strutting around like he'd accomplished something.

Unbelievable….

And this guy counts as a dealer? The four supporters who'd flocked to him were falling over themselves with flattery. The fact that the video had been uploaded unedited, this scene included, meant this was just a perfectly ordinary, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unremarkable sight here.

I checked the comments, too.

Comment after comment gushing praise over that trash-tier dealer…. What a spectacle.

I dug through other videos as well, but only one impression stuck.

The dealers in this world are mostly garbage.

Compared to the dealers from the era when the ratios were reversed, they were so wretched it felt almost embarrassing to put them side by side. The supporters, on the other hand, were unbelievably skilled.

Watching those videos, my body itched to climb the Tower as soon as possible. If I could hand-pick the very best supporters and recruit them myself… could I really make it all the way to Ranker?

Good. Information gathering was done — no reason to keep stalling. What I needed right now to enter the Tower was… a visa, first of all.

To operate inside the Tower, you needed a residence visa issued by the International Hunter Association. Enter without one, and you'd be an illegal resident. For awakeners, though, simply applying got you a three-year hunter visa issued on the spot. Processing would take some time, so I figured I'd file the application first and headed straight for the district office.

Because the International Hunter Association worked in tandem with national governments, administrative work like visa issuance was handled by the state.

When I arrived at the district office, the civil affairs hall was packed with people. I pulled a number ticket, and after about twenty minutes, my turn came.

At the announcement, I made my way to Window 3, where a district office clerk greeted me with a professional smile.

"Hello. What can I help you with today?"

"Hello. I'm here to apply for a Tower residence visa."

At my answer, the clerk gave a small, rueful laugh.

"Ah…. Have you by any chance checked the requirements for a visa application?"

Ordinary civilians without awakening could also enter the Tower, and I knew the residency visa requirements for them were notoriously strict. Not exactly a pleasant task for a district office clerk, either.

"I'm an awakener."

I answered confidently and handed over the documents I'd prepared in advance — a remarkably bare-bones, awakener-only visa application form.

"Oh! You're an awakener."

The clerk's voice brightened instantly, his job suddenly much easier.

"Did you awaken outside the Tower?"

"Yes."

"Wow…. I'm jealous."

"…Thank you."

Even a clerk handling civil affairs wouldn't have seen many awakeners. Dealer or supporter, they were superhumans who made up only a tiny fraction of the general population.

"One moment, please."

He took my paperwork and began entering it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rapidly into his computer — then suddenly looked back and forth between me and the application form, and turned the paper around toward my side of the counter.

"Um…, sir?"

"Yes?"

"Here, under awakening classification… you've written Reinforcement Type."

"Yes."

"……"

"…Is there a problem?"

The clerk furrowed his brow, looking troubled, before answering.

"Isn't Reinforcement Type… a dealer classification…?"

"That's right. Dealer."

"……"

At my answer, the clerk fell silent for a long moment.

"Could I see your Awakener ID, please?"

"……"

He was clearly trying not to make it obvious, but an undercurrent of suspicion hung in the air. Ah… now that I thought about it. A notice I'd seen on Hunternet drifted back to me — a public advisory warning about people impersonating dealers.

An awakener was someone a civilian would rarely cross paths with in the first place. And among awakeners, what were the odds of running into a dealer — one appearing maybe once in every hundred? No wonder he was suspicious.

My deliberation was brief. I fished out my ID and showed it to him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠without missing a beat.

"Here you go."

The clerk glanced at it once. "……Oh."

Then he held the card up to the ceiling lights, inspecting it carefully for signs of forgery. Of course, my ID was the genuine article.

"…I apologize. I've simply never seen a dealer awakener before…."

"No problem. I understand."

I nodded — and the clerk abruptly handed back the very documents I'd just submitted.

"…Actually, if you're a dealer, you don't need to apply for a visa at all."

"Excuse me?"

"When you go through Tower entry procedures, all you have to do is show your ID and an indefinite residence permit is issued automatically. Practically everything else under the Hunter Association's jurisdiction is auto-approved as well, so honestly, there's almost nothing left that you'd need to file paperwork for."

You've got to be kidding me…. Seriously?

The clerk read my stunned expression and nodded.

"Didn't know, huh."

"Not at all…."

They extended this kind of courtesy, too? I'd lived ten years inside the Tower, but I'd spent every one of them on the 99 percent side — the ones bowing — so I'd never really known how the 1 percent actually lived.

"So I didn't even need to come to the district office."

"No, sir. Just take your ID and head straight to Tower entry."

"Thank you."

When I gave a deep bow, the clerk bowed back in kind.

"Of course. Have a good day."

As I stepped out of the civil affairs hall, I felt eyes on me and glanced back — the clerk I'd just exchanged farewells with, and every other visitor nearby, were all staring at me.

"……"

Their faces wore the look of people beholding something wondrous — like a penguin that had just escaped from the zoo. Once a bit of distance opened up, I could even make out their chatter.

"Did you hear? He's a dealer, that guy."

"Fascinating. He looks pretty normal, doesn't he?"

"Must have awakened recently."

Apparently they had no idea how sharp an awakener's hearing could be.

…But what exactly do they think a dealer is?

"…Haha."

The absurdity of it wrung a hollow laugh out of me. It seemed fully adjusting to this world was going to take a while.

The perks of being a dealer didn't end there, either.

I'd planned to take out an awakener loan to raise my starting capital — easily repaid once I started climbing — and it turned out a dealer's loan limit was twenty times that of a supporter's. The government threw cash at me with zero collateral whatsoever.

"What is this…. They can really just hand it out like this?"

Once I'd exchanged the entire loan into Gold, the currency that circulated inside the Tower, my preparations were complete. There'd been no need to buy equipment or anything else on Earth for the sake of being thorough — goods inside the Tower were expensive, yes, but the quality was far superior.

I went straight to the Sub-Tower in Seoul and completed my entry procedures. Sub-Towers existed all over the world, but no matter which one you entered through, there was only one destination.

The Tower's 1st Floor.

The Tower's system message appeared before my eyes.

Yes.

The moment I answered in my mind, the world before me dissolved into blinding white. Now the central terminal inside the Tower was supposed to appear —

— but instead, in a world shrouded on all sides in gray mist, the Tower's system message surfaced once more.

Kzzt—

…Huh?