Butterfly Effect (2)

Every second Friday of the month was set aside for circle activities to safeguard the cadets' mental health. It was entirely up to the cadets whether they joined a circle or just kicked back with some personal downtime.

Friday morning. I sat on the edge of my dorm bed, checking the digestion status of my tentacles.

After 96 hours, digestion would complete and my health stats would rise. What to feed it this time? I could buy something from the points shop like last time, but honestly, points were too precious to waste. Sure, the stat conversion rate wasn't a loss, but I wanted to hoard them anyway.

"...Hmm."

Come to think of it, I had some mana stone fragments from the hunting circle. Maybe feed those? But I quickly scrapped the idea. They were the lowest-grade scraps—feeding them would probably be a net loss. Waiting 96 hours for digestion was just wasting time.

"...Hold on."

Suddenly curious about the digestion mechanic itself, I fed it a lowest-grade mana stone fragment as a test.

Whip.

The tentacle shot out from my lower back at my command, slurping up the fragment like a vacuum cleaner.

I fed it the rest of the scraps, and finally, the standby timer appeared.

"As expected."

My hunch was right. The satiety level and digestion time varied by what it consumed. That 96-hour timer wasn't fixed. Plus, the stat gains differed wildly depending on the target. All general stats—the increase was tiny, but hitting every general stat made it far from negligible.

Did mana stones always boost all general stats? "...Looks like mana stones are the best feed." A solid guess. Higher-grade ones would be even more efficient than this cheap crap.

"Hmm."

I was itching to test it right away, but the Contribution shop didn't sell mana stones. Guess I'd have to hunt them myself. Perfect timing—I was planning to head out of the academy anyway. I had someone essential to meet for my future livelihood plans. Plus, get a lightweight engraving on my subspace pouch and do some hunting on the side.

"...Let's go."

I left the dorm and headed to the portal station.

The Incheon Buyeong Park Dungeon wasn't much of a dungeon—it was a field-type hunting ground formed when an old burrow turned into an open field. Due to the area's peculiarities, they'd missed the window to clear it, so it just became a hunting zone as-is.

"...Gear repairs here. Three fixes, one free."

"Potions for sale. Top quality, cheaper than market price."

"Selling grimoires. Lightweight backpack available. Basic gear too."

Near the burrow entrance, crowds of people had set up stalls, claiming spots. Most were repairing gear, doing engravings, or hawking wares. Some were management staff from big guilds, others independent managers.

"Recruiting fixed mercenaries for Raccoon's Hunting Methods Management. Best hunt share ratios. Sign up today as a fixed member, no commission fees. Personal trades welcome too."

In this world, monster hunting and sales were strictly regulated by law. After expanded hunting rights to meet surging demand for monster resources, the government pushed hard for tax revenue. That's how it split: hunters who hunted and gathered monsters, and managers who handled sales. Management firms and managers were born from that.

Hunters with permits did the killing, handed carcasses to managers, who sold them, deducted taxes, and passed the rest back. It made sense—normies couldn't sell monster corpses efficiently without pros. By law, loot like gear or items from kills had to go through managers too, but that rule was basically dead letter. No real oversight, no one cared.

So most hunters contracted managers just for corpses.

"I'll sell with utmost effort. Flower boy manager Lee Cheong-pal here. Long-term contract today? Hanseong gift certificates, 100,000 won each—five of 'em."

"Highest prices guaranteed. Reliable sales from Reliable Manager Yoo Cheong-han. Contract today, get a full box of potions free."

Some managers struck it rich, ballooned into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠full management companies. Most stayed solo operators, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scraping by.

"......"

I ignored them and kept walking. There, in a dingy corner, sat the manager I knew, looking pathetic.

Frizzy hair. Grimy look. But those eyes burned with unusual clarity.

"......"

One glance, and it was obvious she skipped meals. An extra, just like me. Someone I'd met doing mercenary work in my past life.

"...Just like she griped."

She'd once vented over drinks: those Incheon Buyeong Park days were hell. Fifteen years ago, she looked just like fifteen years later.

"Hey, handsome kid."

"......"

"Looking for a manager to contract? Come sign with me."

Shin Jae-eun. No matter how many times I rolled the name on my tongue, it still tugged at me. I eyed her as she pitched shamelessly.

She wasn't management material, nowhere near the top. No standout skills, just brute-force hard work. Classic tragic backstory—family wrecked by demons.

But... trustworthy. The one person I'd truly trusted in this world.

"What? Something on my face? Why stare...?"

"Nah."

You're pretty.

"Gonna contract?"

"Yeah, let's do it."

She clearly hadn't expected an instant yes.

"Wha—huh—eh...?"

Shin Jae-eun made a dumbfounded noise.

"Not doing it?"

"No, uh... hold on. Just a sec! Contract right here. Never thought gold would roll in... "

She still had that clumsy, green charm back then. We signed the sales contract, and I took her hunting. On the way, we stopped for engravings—lightweight on the subspace pouch. Hunting went smooth; no corpse collection hassles.

Half a day later, we wrapped up and eyeballed the payout. Roughly 500,000 won from corpses alone. No items or rare mats, but two mid-grade mana stones? Solid profit.

I pulled out the stones and essences for myself, then handed her the pouch.

"Here."

"Wha? Why?"

Shin Jae-eun blinked blankly.

"Way better than a backpack. Use it from now on. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A manager needs a subspace pouch."

"...You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Ahem, I'll treat it like a loan then."

"And keep today's corpse sales money too."

"Huh?"

Another dumbfounded noise from Shin Jae-eun.

"No way. Contract says 8-2 split."

"Take care of the kid."

I knew her situation.

"H-how?"

"You look like you got a little sis."

"...Don't mess around. Cadet or not, tease me and I'll smack you. Anyway, contract's a contract—I'll sell today's haul and wire you right away. Pouch as a loan, I'll pay it back."

She spoke with grit, bowed, and turned away. I watched her go, a distant gaze sending off my first love in this world—my first girlfriend.

These achievements probably triggered based on my emotional state. First time affection hit a threshold, then first time it dropped below. Got 'em both.

"...What the hell."

Affection spiked then crashed, huh. I sighed shortly and headed back to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the academy.

"Fuck..."

Almost late getting back to the academy. For some reason, returning always made me feel oddly young again. Just my imagination? Probably.

Thinking that, I headed to the dorm. Dinner hour meant crowds at the front gate, so I cut around back. That's when I heard shouting from somewhere.

"You fucking punk. I said chocolate milk, right? You dare bring banana milk?"

"S-sorry."

"Sorry? Then eat fist."

Future heroes—not quite there yet—were spewing their half-baked personalities everywhere. I pretended not to see and kept walking.

Glancing over, I spotted the kid getting choked. Wait... him. The one who turns demon in the second semester's latter half.

Why was he already getting beat as a gofer? Thinking it over, it tied back to helping Go Su-young. Normally, the bullies' eyes would've been on her around now.

...Schedule accelerated, huh. He might turn demon sooner.

Quicker demon = more points for me. Choi Ji-seong would've stepped in, but not me. I wasn't a good guy.

"...Boo-hoo, Mommy."

But fuck, I couldn't just walk past that.

"Ah, shit."

Screw it. Before I knew it, I'd stepped in to block them.