The White Jade Bracelet
Do Seohyeon, high school student.
She was in the thick of studying for the college entrance exam.
Unlike Hyeonseok, who had thrown himself into games, she had grown up fast. She had been driving herself hard for a long time already.
It was an admirable attitude, in its way. But these were still the thoughts of a young girl — and they were not without their share of naivete and blind determination.
I have to take care of this family.
Their father had once earned well, but the family's fortunes had long since declined. After his injury, money had poured endlessly into rehabilitation.
He's retiring soon... so I have to get my act together, if no one else will.
Study hard. Get into a prestigious university. Land a job at a household-name conglomerate. Grow her wealth through salary, bonuses, and stock options. Then she would cover the household expenses, and once her parents retired, she would see to it they lived out their old age in comfort.
That was high-schooler Do Seohyeon's honest life plan.
It's a relief Oppa finally got his head on straight, at least.
But he couldn't shoulder the family alone. His was a precarious seat at one of the major guilds, a position he had only gotten through their father's connections.
If only that billion won I'd seen back then had been real...
Unfortunately, he had said it was a computer error. Even so, between his salary and performance bonus, he was taking home around twenty million won.
But he said it was just luck.
All because Hunter Jo Youchan had happened to hit SS-rank. And thanks to that, even a Support Team 3 newbie like him had lucked into a piece of the pie.
But still — twenty million won? Does that even make sense?
Their father had said it checked out, so she had decided to take it at face value. Still.
At any rate, a paycheck like that was never going to keep coming. There was no way a newbie would keep getting paid like that.
I can't count on lucky breaks. I'll find a stable job and provide for this family.
Okay. Motivation: locked in. She started the stopwatch on her desk, slipped in her earphones to shut out her classmates' chatter, and dove in.
"Seohyeon, are you busy?"
Oh, come on. There went her flow. She pulled out her earphones and turned around — and the flicker of irritation that had risen in her melted away the moment she saw who it was.
"Yeah, Yeonhwa. I'm not busy. What's up?"
Lee Yeonhwa, a friend since middle school, was standing there fidgeting.
Why is she fidgeting like that? Does she have something to say? She's so cute!
How could anyone be that fair-skinned and pretty? She was supposedly the youngest daughter of Jeonjoodang, the foremost martial clan in Korea — but her looks were the furthest thing from the rough work of a hunter.
A Yi family claiming descent from the Joseon Dynasty. She radiated the air of a head family's youngest daughter: refined, lovely. They had grown close in part because they shared the common ground of hunter households.
"This — you said you wanted it, right? Here."
Lee Yeonhwa slipped a jade bracelet from her slender wrist and held it out.
"Huh?"
Do Seohyeon stared, startled.
"You're giving me something this precious? W-why, all of a sudden?"
Even as she said it, her hands had already accepted the bracelet. At the same time, it felt like too much. This was one of those famously expensive "items," after all.
"This is the Evil-Warding White Jade you've always worn, isn't it?"
It was something she had always envied. A jade bracelet said to drive out every kind of impurity — and, as a bonus, to wipe skin inflammation clean away. An item teenage girls dreamed of.
Do Seohyeon had been losing sleep over breakouts as it was.
"Yeah. You wanted it. It's yours, Seohyeon."
"I'm really grateful, but..."
"Heh, heheh..."
Do Seohyeon could take a hint. She could tell Lee Yeonhwa wanted something in return.
But what could the youngest daughter of Korea's greatest martial clan — a hunter, no less — possibly want from her?
"Come here a second."
"Okay, okay."
Whatever secret she meant to share, she led them all the way to a secluded corner.
"Listen, I know this is a lot to ask, but..."
"What do you need me to do? Just say the word, Yeonhwa!"
Do Seohyeon looked ready to fetch her a star from the sky. Lee Yeonhwa, however, hesitated for a long time.
"Please — just let me meet your brother once. I'm begging you!"
"Huh?"
What kind of request was that, out of nowhere?
"My Oppa...? You gave me the Evil-Warding White Jade just for that? Why on earth?"
"Huh? Isn't your brother Master Do Hyeonseok?"
Do Hyeonseok... Master?
"...He is, but so what?"
"He's the Special Advisor of Advance Guild."
"Huhh?"
"Huh?"
The two of them were talking straight past each other.
What even is a Special Advisor.
Perhaps Lee Yeonhwa mistook Seohyeon's reaction for a roundabout refusal. She suddenly bowed at the waist.
"I'm begging you! I'll repay this debt, I swear — just arrange one meeting with Master!"
"I want to help, but what are you even talking about?"
"Don't be like that, Seohyeon, I'm really desperate. Please, just once!"
"Y-you're the one being weird right now!"
Lee Yeonhwa clung to the bewildered Do Seohyeon and pleaded with her for quite some time.
Rejected. This one, too.
Ah, this skill isn't bad, but... I already have Shunpo, so I probably don't need it.
Out, then. Hmm. Not a single candidate that really grabbed him.
"The way you look when you're seriously deliberating is so cool, Master."
"Don't say creepy stuff like that. I can't concentrate."
Still looking at the tablet, he reached toward the cookie plate. His fingers found nothing but porcelain.
"What? Where did all the cookies go!"
"Where'd you get these? They're amazing!"
"Hey, you little—! I already feel awkward asking Minji twice a day!"
"Why are you bringing up Kang Minji?"
He flicked him in the forehead.
"H-hey, a lightning flick to the head just for eating some cookies is a bit much!"
"Don't tempt me."
Not worth the effort. He just sat back down on the sofa. Better to finish looking through the tablet.
"Wait, Kang Minji bakes you cookies too? She barely even talks to me."
"Why wouldn't she talk to you? Maybe she's just shy."
"Pretty sure she just doesn't like me."
"Ah, right. You do have that attitude problem."
He was always forgetting, since Youchan was only ever warm toward him.
"But what are you agonizing over so much? Just pick any high-floor hunter, raise them, and rake in the performance bonuses. Easy money."
"It's not that simple."
What mattered was potential. Stacking skills at random was a fast track to a kit that turned useless. Director Jeong Sangguk had been exactly that.
He was rank one in Hunter Management. Among countless Masters, the only one who had cleared the 100th Floor. He had every skill tech tree that stayed relevant into the late game committed to memory.
You pick the good stuff from the start and raise it steadily, so you never have to throw it away later.
That was why he had to be careful. And yet not a single candidate on this list really satisfied him.
"Ohh... as expected of Korea's greatest Master. All I see is floor numbers, but you're looking at something else entirely."
"Well... I mean, you're not wrong."
Not that the "something else" was anything more than game-walkthrough knowledge, contrary to whatever Youchan was imagining.
When you're picking a character's skills, you can't not think about the late game.
Trust in Tracking alone on the 57th Floor and you were guaranteed a wipe at the hands of the elf assassins. Likewise, Shunpo and its evolved forms could chew right through the vicious patterns of the upper floors.
In reality everything from the 57th Floor on will be different, but I still have to pick high-tier skills carefully.
He was flipping through the list when someone caught his eye.
"Who's this kid? She's so young. Floor count's low, too. How did she even make the list?"
"Then nine times out of ten, someone's pulling strings. Let's see, which guild's precious child is— ugh!"
Jo Youchan flinched.
"What?"
"That's the young lady of Jeonjoodang. Do not get involved with that family."
"Jeonjoodang is the biggest martial clan in the country. Isn't that a good thing? What's the problem?"
"They're exhausting."
Jeonjoodang, the clan said to command natural energy through martial arts. They were prestigious enough to have people on the current top-floor assault team.
"They're pride and stubbornness packed into human form. Insanely high-maintenance."
Jo Youchan had owed them a debt over lightning arts, once. It had ended in a clash of egos, and he had walked away with nothing useful to show for it.
"A single word of advice from you was a hundred, a thousand times more useful than those stuffy martial arts they kept shouting about."
"Lightning arts, huh."
He was a little tempted. It might help with Heavenly Explosive Strike. Then again, he already had Heavenly Explosive Strike, so did he really need it? It might just end up overlapping with the main attribute. A tricky call.
"I am kind of curious about their lightning arts, though."
"But this one can't use lightning arts."
"Then what's her element?"
"She probably can't use any of Jeonjoodang's mainstream martial arts."
"Huh?"
She was the youngest daughter, wasn't she? Why wouldn't they have taught her?
"I heard there's some kind of defect in her abilities. Apparently she's a headache even within the family."
"Is that so?"
Then she was out. No decent candidates. He needed to think this over.
That was when the internal line on the desk rang. The first-floor lobby desk.
Advisor Do Hyeonseok. The installation crew has arrived.
"Ah, yes. Please send them up."
They were finally here!
"Who's coming?"
"Oh, some very distinguished personages are about to grace us with their presence."
Before long, the crew arrived carrying their equipment.
"Please recess the computer in here, and set the large speakers according to the layout you received."
"W-what is all this?"
The installation was done in no time. An expensive company, maybe? They were good.
"Behold. My 'office.'"
"How is this an office?!"
A top-of-the-line gaming PC. A massive quad-monitor array. Premium speakers covering half the wall. There was even a PlayStation, a Nintendo, a VR rig. A drink dispenser and a refrigerator, too.
"Hit this button and the blinds come down. Instant home theater."
"I'm so jealous..."
"You should get one too. It's not like you're short on money."
"Of course I tried. And Dad smacked me for it."
Fair enough. Doing this at the company did look a bit unseemly. But then why was he allowed to?
"That's so unfair... this is blatant favoritism...!"
"Ah, favoritism. So that's the simple answer."
"Are you making fun of me right now?"
Haha. So he had been playing favorites.
"Come up whenever you want to hang out. We'll play PlayStation together. I have a feeling I'll be spending more time here than at home from now on."
"Yeah, I would too."
Looking at a setup this glorious, a man's heart couldn't help but race.
"All right, then..."
"What are you doing? Grab a controller."
Maybe he wouldn't go home tonight. Time to put in a little "overtime."
That was when a text came in. His phone buzzed.
"Hm?"
What was Seohyeon doing texting him?
"Hmm?"
What was this about?
The Forbidden City, China.
The Director-General of the National Awakening Administration was delivering a report to the President, the head of state.
"They cleared it without Hunter Zhang Xuan, you said?"
"Yes. And the raid took three days at most."
The 54th Floor was a floor that took two weeks to clear. The battlefield you had to punch through under fire was simply too vast. The standard approach was to advance while picking off enemies one by one, grinding forward over a span of days.
"And they did it without their core combat personnel, no less."
"Yes."
"Does that make any sense?"
China had cleared the 54th Floor themselves. They knew its difficulty all too well.
Counter-sniping that terrifying marksman without Tracking? For modern hunters, it was a task bordering on impossible.
"Well. We'll look into that matter in due course."
Failing to extract concessions from Korea was regrettable, but for the moment it had nothing to do with China's own Tower assault.
"From the looks of it, they pulled off some outrageous stroke of luck. Do you think that will carry them through the next floor? The 50s are unforgiving."
"That is correct."
"Another opportunity will come soon enough. We shall wait."
That being the case, it was time to focus on China's assault of the 57th Floor.
"In that case, there's no need to lend Hunter Feng Yuxiang to Korea."
"Preparations are complete. Tomorrow we'll form a team around Feng Yuxiang and begin the 57th Floor assault immediately."
"See it done."
And the very next day, the President received a report that left him stunned.
In a single day?
"......I am sorry."
They had lost their entire precious top-floor assault team. It was a shock on a scale that could make a nation stagger.
Fortunately, China had a reserve top-floor assault team. Unlike Korea, they had that luxury.
The fatal blow, however, was the vanishingly rare Tracking skill — and the death of Feng Yuxiang, its sole holder.
Assaulting the 50s without Tracking was close to impossible.
"I am sorry. I am truly sorry."
The Director-General of the National Awakening Administration trembled with fear. This was no partial loss. It was a total wipe.
It was a catastrophe they should have stopped somehow — with every survival item they had, with capable supporters attached. Above all else, the survival of the first team was what had mattered.
They had failed. He would be lucky if a demotion was all he got.
"......The cause?"
"Pardon? I didn't quite catch that."
"What in the world is on the 57th Floor that it wiped out the proud assault team of our People's Republic of China? They had held up so steadfastly all this time."
The Director-General swallowed.
"The team was annihilated, so we cannot kno—"
"You have to find out what's even there before we can start putting together a response!"
One of the terrors of a top-floor assault was uncertainty. Nobody knew what the next floor would hold. Even so, a total wipe like this was extremely rare.
In other words, there was something on the 57th Floor. Not knowing what it was, China had no choice but to halt their ascent.
From that day on, no one in Beijing ever saw the Director-General again.