Awards Ceremony

"So... if there was a skill that let you simulate thousands or even tens of thousands of possible futures based on your choices, and embody them through experience—would you believe me?"

Jo Yeon-hwa's expression hardened at those words. Yeah, even I would be stunned if someone claimed to have a power like that. It was blatantly overpowered, after all.

"Like Future Sight or something...?"

"Well, not quite that grandiose, but there are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠some similarities."

"Then, that time with the guy handling the Seven Flying Swords...!"

What? Had she been watching when I was teaching Yoon Han-gyeol the sword? Fine by me, actually.

"Exactly. Assuming I wielded the Seven Flying Swords myself, I simulated tens of thousands of virtual spars and passed on the techniques I'd internalized from them."

Jo Yeon-hwa fell silent, unable to respond. It was the kind of story that could only feel like outright cheating. But now that I'd said it, she'd start reverse-engineering everything she knew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠about me based on this. PER's explosive growth. The way her teammates had transformed so dramatically. No need to go that far—even my own overwhelming rate of improvement.

She'll think it all fits perfectly if she pieces it together.

Not everything about awakening skills was fully understood yet. Plenty of hunters never fully grasped their own abilities even after awakening. No way something like this would be public knowledge. That's why I figured it'd stick.

"I see... So no one actually taught you separately... Yeah. I jumped to conclusions on my own."

Jo Yeon-hwa looked seriously rattled. She stared blankly at the sky, as if needing time to process.

Interestingly, Ryu Jae-jun—who'd been listening in from the side—didn't seem all that shocked.

"Doesn't faze you at all?"

"Should I have put on some big reaction for it?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. Yeah, that was Ryu Jae-jun for you.

"Simulating through imagination and applying it to real fights? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Even without it being a skill, that's a common training method already. It manifesting as a powered-up ability doesn't seem that strange. More intriguing is you, though."

"Me? How so?"

"Why join a team like that when you have a skill like that?"

Straight to the gut. Explaining that would mean diving into my regression history, the realizations I'd had at the end, and ultimately, how I needed to fully take control of a team. Build the roster I wanted, synergize them perfectly, reach that ideal vision... And honestly, now there was a new reason too.

"Hm... Sure, there were plenty of better teams out there. But I didn't need a good team—I needed my team."

"Your team? Your team..."

Ryu Jae-jun pondered deeply but still looked like he hadn't quite gotten it. As the silence stretched, I tossed out a new topic.

"By the way, you're heading up to Division 2 soon too, right, Ryu Jae-jun?"

"Got plenty of scouts, yeah."

From Division 3 to 2, 2 to 1. Moving up one division per season—that was the elite hunter path. With his stats and ability, offers from Division 2 teams were a given.

"Any teams you're considering?"

"They all make tempting pitches, but that's not what matters to me."

"Haven't decided yet, huh? Swing by sometime later then."

"For what?"

"To see why I needed my team, not just a good one."

With that, I handed him my new business card as PER's director. He stared at it blankly, clearly not expecting a recruitment pitch, so I just slipped it into his hand.

"Man, you're killing me here. We're the same age anyway, so I'll drop the formalities. Jump to some random team thinking it'll work out? You won't gain a damn thing. Think it over."

"Got it."

He smirked, not seeming opposed at all.

Meanwhile, Jo Yeon-hwa—who'd zoned out briefly—had wandered back over at some point.

"I thought about it, and that's why you said that stuff when we first met? About your growth plateauing soon. And that means there's another way, right? According to your skill."

Unlike before, her face was lighting up. Questions came flooding in. What skills should she develop next? Best training methods? Could she see a future with more growth? And so on.

Of course, it was all bullshit, so I just vaguely repackaged solid training tips from my pre-regression days and secondhand knowledge I'd picked up.

Maybe that's why—even as she nodded in acceptance, she seemed to sense some vagueness too.

"Well, since you're not on the team, I get you can't teach me everything in detail. Still, it'd be nice if we hung out sometimes."

Just then, the announcement rang out from the party hall: the awards ceremony was starting.

"Shall we head in? That was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fun."

"If you get bored, grab Jae-jun and drop by our team home sometime."

Now the real party was about to begin.

Back in the party hall, the atmosphere had heated up into a proper frenzy before they knew it. With tables now packed full of people—unlike earlier—it finally felt like a real party.

"Mm... you made it?"

Yi Yeon-ju still seemed a bit tipsy. Or rather, good thing she hadn't gotten more drunk.

"Hey, but did you hear, Chang-hyun?"

"Hear what? Something happen while I was gone?"

"Do-jun's getting an award at this ceremony."

Kim Do-jun? An award? I racked my pre-regression memories for the list of awards he'd won, but nothing came up.

Super Play of the Year? Survival Award? Fan Vote Moment of the Year?

Even recalling every award from before regression turned up zilch. Right as I was wondering, the Super Play and MVP Dealer awards wrapped up, and Kim Do-jun's name was called.

Thankfully half-sober by then, he made it up without stumbling—looking surprisingly steady. Soon, the screen on stage revealed what award he was getting.

It wasn't anything else—the screen behind the podium was playing highlights from PER vs. RIX. Edited clips with regular fans reacting: cheering and clapping like seals at the scene where he donned an Invisible Cloak over his glowing sword and shredded the opponent.

The kicker? The NutTube views shown below: [3.91 million].

Damn...

Kim Do-jun clearly hadn't expected this either, eyes wide in surprise. But the real spectacle was what he said into the mic while accepting it. Uncharacteristically—still not fully sober, eyes misty and emotional.

"I had... a drink or two. Doesn't matter if I don't start. But please, remember Kim Do-jun. I gave it my all, for real. My performance might suck sometimes. I worried day and night, prepared nonstop. I did my best, worked hard. Hope you feel my sincerity. Thank you."

Laughter erupted from spots all over at Kim Do-jun's words.

That crazy bastard?

I'd thought the booze had worn off, but nope—he went up and spouted nonsense in his acceptance speech. I dragged him off quick before more chaos, but my face burned anyway.

The ceremony was in full swing now, down to just the big ones. The award for the Korean player with the best overall performance that year: the MVP of the Year Award. And for the most impressive debut among rookies from Division 1 to 3: the Rookie of the Year Award.

MVP's obviously going to a Division 1 player... but Rookie? Might be in reach.

Awards weren't a huge deal, but hey, free is free. Especially now that we needed more sponsors. An extra title like that would help.

As I mulled that over, the MVP recipient was announced.

He got a trophy plaque too, but showed little reaction. It came through in his speech as well.

"Being named Korea's top player leaves me with regrets. We got crushed by Japan in the international matches this year, and I think the Korean Hunters League still has a long way to go. As a top player here, I feel that responsibility deeply. I'll work to improve."

He bowed politely and took the plaque.

Pretty cold. Full party vibe, and he drops that...?

It was like dousing the festive mood to send a message to everyone: step it up next year. Maybe sensing the shift, the flustered host quickly announced the next: the Rookie of the Year.

Highlights from my Division 3 matches played on the stage screen. Honestly, I'd half-expected it. That's why I'd come in before it started. Rookies usually struggled with the leap between leagues, so yeah, I'd calculated I'd snag it.

But the crowd reaction was underwhelming. Unlike the MVP applause, this got sparse claps—and what sounded like snickers.

Mostly Division 2 folks?

Tables were divided by league, so easy to spot.

Murmurs like that. Sure, others had performed well too—not like I was the only one. Bound to be some objections.

But saying that at a hunter awards ceremony? Means they're confident enough to stand by their words.

Hunters being Awakened, plenty could hear even whispers. And I wasn't just some PER grunt anymore—I was owner, director, the works. Couldn't just laugh it off.

They were willing to sour the mood, make 'em pay for it.

But then, someone behind me on stage stopped me before I could speak.