Starting with a Warm-Up

Hunter potential is determined by physical ability ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠potential measured through cutting-edge medical equipment. It's the easiest way to distinguish Awakeners from non-Awakeners. But what makes Awakeners special isn't just their physical prowess. The real deal is the intangible "skills" that can't be measured.

Ordinary Awakeners have no choice but to guess what their "skill" is and how to use it through trial and error. Or shell out a fortune for an imprecise, ultra-expensive Awakener aptitude test. Everyone except me, with my Piercing Eye.

As expected...

Bloom had regressed back to E-rank.

The Hunters League Rookie Scouting Project wouldn't start until next year. But that didn't mean there was nothing to do until then. The most urgent task was zeroing in on this body—adapting to it fully before then.

This body hadn't fully grown yet compared to back then, and all my skills were at lower levels overall. Without achievements piled up, the talent awakening from Bloom that shines through strengths—and its keywords—hadn't kicked in yet.

So today's destination was set. For the time being, he'd practice at the Hunters League Virtual Reality Stadium near Seoul City Hall.

The hurdle? He needed his parents' permission... But that shouldn't be too hard. Before regression, he'd thrown a tantrum, but now he knew exactly what his parents wanted.

Parents always cave when their kid shows firm resolve and asks for trust to prove results. No parent can resist their child, after all.

"I heard Chang-hyun awakened the other day. Why didn't you tell me?"

"He had a lot on his mind."

"What's there to think about? You gotta test it out to know."

"So you'd push our kid into something so uncertain?"

The living room was getting noisy. Come to think of it, Mom had opposed it, but Dad supported him back then. Maybe that's why Mom knew so much about hunters—because of Dad.

"No~ It's not our life, it's Chang-hyun's. He should do what he wants."

"He's barely a middle schooler. What does he know? You're so irresponsible."

"That's why I said let's watch for just one year~"

"You know one year for a young kid is like ten for us? Don't you get how crucial it is?"

She had a point. The younger you are, the heavier each day weighs. He'd thought the same every day before falling from the league's top spot.

If I'd started Hunters League just one year earlier... Stuff like that.

People might think one year earlier wouldn't make much difference, but it meant dozens more pro matches—pure experience. You couldn't ignore that for Bloom's keywords, which unlock special abilities through achievements, or the operational know-how experience builds.

If I'd started training one year earlier right away, Bloom would've been B-rank, not just C+.

That alone might've changed history. Adolescence is when one year can flip everything in a flash. He couldn't waste it fumbling around like before regression.

So he needed systematic practice starting today—even one day sooner. As the back-and-forth continued, he opened his door and stepped out.

They hadn't expected him eavesdropping, so silence suddenly fell between Mom and Dad.

"Give me six months. I'll prove it. If not, I'll drop it without looking back."

"Sigh... You're not just doing this because Dad pushed you, right?"

"Mom. I've thought a lot. About how to convince you."

"And?"

"I know what you're thinking. But it's not because I awakened and everyone's hyping me up. You know I was always good at sports."

Mom's expression didn't soften easily. He'd thought showing resolve to quit in six months if no results would get an OK... Was he too naive?

The silence dragged on, Dad just watching Mom's mood. Was it because moms usually hold the reins in parenting?

"First, no complaining about it being tough, not once. Second, get proof from experts on pro potential within six months. Third, keep studying as usual. Promise to follow these."

She'd strung him along, but in the end, no parent beats their kid. She relented.

"Mom. Just trust me."

"Fine, if you want to, go for it. Failure and heartbreak are yours too. See how far you get in six months."

Dad looked excited, but Mom's face was subtle. But don't worry, Mom. That expression would soon turn to anticipation watching how far her son goes.

Meeting expectations isn't easy. Especially for sports stars. The better your career, the harsher people get. Evaluations shift from seasons to single games, single clashes.

Having all eyes on you means that pressure. That's why his evaluation tanked after just two seasons pre-regression.

Compared to that, second- or third-strings—"solid upper-mid players"—have it easy. They perform averagely well, and if the top guy slips one day, their name buzzes. Do just enough, no hate, all the spillover benefits.

Like Kim Do-jun right in front of him now.

"Lee Chang-hyun."

"...Who're you?"

Of course, post-regression, no connection, so no need to pretend.

Pre-regression, this guy had been a consistent 2nd-3rd place dealer in Hunters League 1st Division. Same high school too. Kim Do-jun.

"Ah, from the class next door—never heard? Kim Do-jun. Pretty famous as our school's Awakener, right?"

"Oh yeah? First time hearing it..."

His face fell instantly. That attention-seeker vibe from his pro days was already sprouting. Asking with a smug shoulder shrug, assuming his name's big. Face thick as steel plate, no doubt.

"Well, could be new to you. Anyway, you here for the Seoul Hunter Academy youth team tryouts?"

His tone was cocky, victorious smirk. Probably saw him here and assumed. Being at Seoul Municipal Hunters League Stadium tricked him.

But this wasn't just the stadium—also public hunter facilities and training spots run by the city.

"Not trying out. Got something to say?"

Right now, the Hunter Union Training Facility. Probably won't run into Kim Do-jun again.

"Nah, just... seen you around a few times passing by. Train hard."

He wasn't the type to chat up strangers pre-regression either. Not close back then. Why act buddy-buddy now? Whatever, not his business.

Time to hit the info desk.

"Available rental for the comprehensive Hunter Union Training Facility from 3 to 6 PM?"

"Got your ID?"

Not resident card—Awakener registration.

"Here."

"Minors need guardian consent..."

Pre-regression as an adult, he'd never needed it—forgot. Turn back now, and today's practice is bust...

"Any other way?"

"Guardians required for minors. No exceptions."

As he fretted, Kim Do-jun approached.

"Still here?"

"Look troubled. Need help?"

"You're a minor too."

"Seoul team academy member—gets me in."

No clue why the goodwill, but good's good. Weird getting help from someone with zero ties pre-regression. Might return the favor if he's in a pinch later.

"Wanna go in together instead? Got time till 4."

There it was. Nobody gives freebies. No loss for him.

No reason to refuse.

"Sure."

"Logged you in as two, with Seoul Hunter Academy's Kim Do-jun as guardian. Enter E-room."

Just warming up—no biggie showing off a bit.

"Not many at school wanna be hunters, so it's nice seeing you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Just joined Seoul Municipal Academy youth team, but everyone's older, strangers—hard to chat."

Makes sense. Pre-regression, he didn't seem the outgoing type.

"You're struggling too... but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠train up and try the academy tryouts. I could put in a word with the coach."

A chuckle escaped. Whether the coach listens to a middle school newbie's word aside, the subtle brag mixed with loneliness was oddly endearing, not annoying.

"Maybe."

"Why the comprehensive facility? Sounds fancy, but barely anyone's there."

"Obviously. It's pure practice, not league-focused."

The facility was a stark white cube from floor to ceiling, save the entrance.

"Won't be fun even if. Just testing a few skills and conditioning."

"Well, same school—could help with conditioning if you want..."

Clear he hoped I'd ask for his aid. But with decades more experience counting pre-regression age, no way I'd beg a kid.

As soon as he said it, a man in heavy armor wielding a massive shield materialized in the empty center.

Tanker Clone.

Like setting a tank dummy in free practice mode in another game. Difference? Its defense was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠absurd—near impossible to dent normally.

Occasionally a bonus mob in league, so Kim Do-jun had faced it a few times.

"Chang-hyun, for practice, go general clone. Even as a dummy in practice mode, you won't scratch it with your stats."

His reaction was lukewarm. Already academy, so he figured himself the veteran, giving pointers.

Makes sense—nothing special about the basic close-range dealer spear he held. Even he'd not recommend it.

"Gotta be tough for a sandbag. Too soft, what's the point?"

Kim Do-jun sat smugly, pitying like try if you want.

Time to show this fresh Awakener the spicy side.

"Bet you're the weak one."