No Need to Learn Anything New
Yi Ui-jun could see both Kim Jin-seung's and Lee Chang-hyun's stats clearly. However, since it was a low-rank analysis, their skills weren't visible. Stats were absolute numbers that served as the benchmark for strength, though, so they essentially revealed most of a hunter's overall power.
'Especially for a scout like me rather than a player, this analysis ability is practically a gift from the gods...'
That was why, when he'd first heard Kim Jin-seung and Lee Chang-hyun were going to fight, Yi Ui-jun hadn't been able to predict a win for Lee Chang-hyun at all. Unless the guy had some insanely destructive skill, the gap in their base stats was just too wide. Even clashing swords head-on would mean Lee Chang-hyun taking hits one-sidedly, while attacks Kim Jin-seung could dodge would land squarely on him. That was how massive the base stat difference was.
'If he overcomes that, it'll purely be a difference in skills.'
That had been his firm belief before the match started. But astonishingly, things unfolded in a way that completely contradicted his expectations.
A guy who seemed to have only one skill—weapon transformation, which didn't boost combat power much—had overwhelmed Kim Jin-seung, who boasted superior stats and telekinesis to boot. Sure, according to Lee Min-seok's guess, he definitely had some kind of analysis ability close to Piercing Eye, but utilizing it was another matter entirely. And even then, it wasn't a skill that directly aided in battle.
But Lee Chang-hyun was different. He'd spotted the telekinesis, hidden his weapon, and saved a dagger for the killing blow. It wasn't a tactic anyone could come up with on the spot through sheer instinct.
"What do you think? Kinda tempting, right?"
Lee Min-seok was looking at Yi Ui-jun with a knowing smirk, like he was proud of spotting the talent first.
"Honestly... a little."
He was tempted. Very tempted. But admitting it outright felt awkward. After all, these were rookies barely above amateur level, closer to 3rd Division than pros.
Still, that analysis ability aside, his psychological warfare skills screamed potential core attacker or cracker once he joined a team.
"Does he already have a team lined up?"
"You're interested, huh? But too bad~ You know damn well that once they appear on an audition show like this, negotiation priority goes to the sponsor teams."
Lee Min-seok replied with a sly grin, oblivious—or maybe fully aware—of Yi Ui-jun's mind racing, burning black inside as he desperately brainstormed ways to recruit him as a trainee for their team.
Training with Kim Do-jun had taken them all over the place, patching up weaknesses here and there, and before they knew it, the next program session had arrived.
His stats had definitely improved during that time, but there were regrets too.
'I still don't know the exact conditions for the Bloom skill to recognize an "achievement" and grant a new skill...'
So far, he'd gained new skills or talents after beating Han Ji-su and finding the hidden piece Ether. So he'd scheduled extreme limit-pushing training and unique mana conditioning sessions, but no progress.
'Well... no need to rush it.'
It was frustrating not fully understanding his own skill, but there was nothing for it. At least Piercing Eye gave him a clearer picture than most people got.
Meanwhile, Kim Do-jun had switched up his sword style on Lee Chang-hyun's advice and was improving by leaps and bounds.
"Hey, at this rate, I'm gonna beat you soon, right?"
He was talking big like this now. A lot.
"Keep dreaming."
Of course, he still had a long way to go against Lee Chang-hyun.
As they bantered about such trivial stuff, they arrived at the program venue without realizing it.
The location was different this time—a spacious classroom with a wide podium.
'They doing a class or something?'
He belatedly regretted not watching even a bit of this audition show from before his regression. Not knowing what was coming didn't sit well.
The 20 audition hopefuls were chattering noisily when suddenly the judges took the podium. No words were needed; the room fell silent, all eyes on them. They might not show it, but everyone was dying to know what this mission was.
"Hello, everyone. Did that one-week break—no, that one-week training—yield good results? Some of you might say yes, others no. But here's what I think."
"You're still a long way off."
"You're all certainly shiny rookies. Put differently, you're still sorely lacking compared to active pros. So you need to grow. To become real hunters, not just rookies."
It was spot on.
'Even if this program's a big event drawing tons of eyes, objectively speaking, we're at best 3rd Division level.'
"So what do you need? That's right. A 'mentor'. Someone to guide your path and brainstorm your weaknesses with you. Allow me to introduce your mentor squad!"
Three hunters stepped onto the podium: a muscular man, a slender one who looked like a supporter, and a woman loaded with bags who seemed like a ranged specialist.
"All active 1st Division players with championship wins or equivalent achievements. They'll handle your training and individual evaluations, followed by 3v3 mini Hunters League games. You'll train your positions under them and get judged on core competencies for those roles in the 3v3s."
The reaction was lukewarm. Plenty had academy training, so a 1st Division hunter wasn't that impressive.
Then—
Thud!
In an instant, overwhelming pressure hit all 20 hopefuls. It was mana manipulation pushed to its limit—a technique possible only for those who could wield mana like telekinesis.
For a split second, it crushed them with sheer powerlessness. And just like that, the lukewarm vibe shifted to eager anticipation for the mentors.
"I'm Lee Sung-jin, handling close-range dealer mentoring. I hate quitters, guys who judge without experience. But what I hate most? Arrogant little shits. Know your place and accept the mentoring."
Bluntly put, it could come off as arrogant, but as one of Korea's top Hunters League aces, it was allowed.
'Hmm... not bad, I guess.'
Even that barely impressed Lee Chang-hyun.
"The judges have assigned positions arbitrarily based on prelims, survival games, and your week's activities. Move accordingly."
Names were called, and Lee Chang-hyun tilted his head in confusion.
'...Why the hell am I in close-range?'
For some unknowable reason, he'd been slotted into close-range, so off he went. And as expected, it was packed with heavy hitters.
'Yoon Han-gyeol, Yoo Hye-ju... Do-jun too, of course...'
Plenty of promising stars.
The close-range training room was much like Seoul Hunter Academy's practice fields—an all-white space for virtual reality.
Amid the seated students stood the giant mentor who'd frozen everyone with mana manipulation earlier. Lee Sung-jin spoke.
"Forget everything you've learned so far! No matter what academy you went to, you're worse than 3rd Division hunters."
Prideful academy kids scowled, but he ignored them.
"You've watched Hunters League matches, so you know: from the moment they step in, hunters use mobility mana gear like Air Anchors and Air Beats, plus all sorts of gear and techniques. Unlike you scrapping on the ground, even 3rd Division guys fly around and pull off aerial combat effortlessly."
Air Anchors were mana gear that dropped an anchor to an absolute aerial coordinate via mana, letting you wire-action through the air on the connected mana rope.
Air Beats, meanwhile, generated anti-gravity anywhere, providing thrust to leap skyward.
These let hunters fight flashier and fiercer, so everyone used them. Sure, some had low versatility and were niche, but...
'No wonder hunter battles aren't decided just by skills and physical stats.'
Savvy mana gear handling often turned the tide.
"Everything you've learned is grounded, stuck to the dirt—useless in aerial or flying fights. So forget it all. Your only job now? Practice handling Air Anchors and Air Beats. If you can't, you're useless as close-range. Get to it!"
His tone screamed old-school drill sergeant.
Anyway, everyone hesitated but started fiddling with the gear he provided.
'It's been a while...'
Seeing the golf-ball-sized mana tool for firing anchors brought back memories. Pre-regression, Lee Chang-hyun had tried every tactic with them for victory—they were old friends.
Most hopefuls, just starting, struggled hard.
"Gahhh!"
One even misfired the mana rope's pressure and went flying.
Others just dangled helplessly.
'It's tough at first...'
Even awakened hunters were earthbound creatures. Mastering tools for swimming through the sky wasn't easy.
The gear demanded unique balance. No ground to stand on bred psychological unease, and your only body control was the anchor. Posture crumbled easily; not plummeting was a win.
Like swimming or biking, it got intuitive once you got the hang of it. The catch? It was harder than those.
'Does my body still remember?'
Sensations might need relearning. But gripping the Air Anchor tight, he felt the thrill of ruling the skies again.