Hero of Dowon-dong (1)
The day after conquering the first floor of the Tower, I headed straight to the Awakener Association. Best to rip the band-aid off quick. "Gotta claim my subsidy."
Two million won a month. Pocket change for hardcore climbers grinding the Tower, but for a guy like me with zero ambitions beyond freeloading, it was money I had to squeeze every drop from. Truth be told, that amount wouldn't even cover potion costs, let alone weapon installments. Push too hard for a life turnaround with loans, and that's where it ends. Dragons rising from mud puddles? Bullshit. No such thing. If luck and skill were gonna bail you out, you wouldn't have awakened as F-rank to begin with.
Tower climbing means frequent injuries, and missed loan payments turn F-rankers into corporate slaves or pack mules before they know it. Pathetic, but that's reality.
"But how's anyone supposed to not get greedy? SNS is a gut-punch."
C-ranks cruising in supercars. Who knows if they're car-poor or actually bought 'em with earnings. Either way, it flips a switch—next thing you know, you're maxing loans like an idiot.
"But I know my limits."
My goal: trash-tier F-rank. Selling Tower drops like Purity Pills would make me rich. No guilt over faking my strength. Weirdly, get recognized and suddenly you're swamped with gigs and duties. Backbiting and jealousy included. So yeah, trash F-rank it is. Plus, turning down free money? That's the real crime. Tons of awakeners miss out just 'cause they don't know.
Today, I planned to sandbag hard during measurement. Earth's Spirit Qi is so thin, without Spirit Stones, my max output's barely matchstick-level firepower. Just in case, I burned every scrap of Spirit Qi I had at dawn. Perfect. Stuff any conscience under my hat.
"What brings you here?"
"Awakener registration."
"Ah, yes. Please come in. We'll do paperwork first, then ranking."
The "new awakener" buzz had the lurking crowd jumping up. Whoa, easy there. I'm your future F-rank. No pressure.
"This way."
The receptionist's snippy tone toward backed-up customers softened instantly. This is what an awakener gets? Felt pretty damn good, honestly. In this era, awakeners command respect worldwide. Massive cash and power? People self-censor rage real quick. And awakening doesn't magically make you nice. Piss one off, things get messy. Or score some crumbs if you're lucky. So they badmouth behind backs but bow upfront.
Those who bolted up? Guild scouts. Highway tow-truck types camped at the Association daily.
"Greetings from Yarot Guild. We're a small party with a family vibe..."
"Sura Guild here. Tiered incentives based on rank, rewards for effort..."
"Cherry Blossom Guild. Full of vibrant female awakeners..."
In the hallway to the lounge, scouts swarmed. Business cards crammed my hands till they overflowed. But post-measurement? Faces would sour. Sorry, F-rank incoming.
Still, the unprecedented attention cracked a grin I couldn't hide. 'Just go nuts, pretend you're nuts? S-rank Awakener Choi Do-yul ain't bad.' King of Floor 1—maybe A-rank guaranteed? 'Hold it together, Choi Do-yul. Hold.'
No time with gallery posts piling up. Save up, world tour. Live the life I missed. Duties like subjugation raids? Hell no. I wanna cruise too.
"Welcome, prospective awakener."
Opening the guided door, a refined woman in a sharp black uniform greeted me. Elegant fit.
"Before measurement, place your hand on this orb?"
Saw this in Hunter Gallery. Magic tool to filter liars and fake-unawakened mukbangers. Ether detector. The one from mana gauge threads where I got roasted. Snowball-sized white orb. Hand on, it glowed soft red. Pretty. But how red does it go?
"...Good. Fill in your details on the highlighted form."
Turning at her call, I caught her switch to "awakener" honorific. Hit me then: I'm official (sorta). Gallery says ether detector's the be-all-end-all for verification. Just ranking left. Life flipped in days. Wild. But why's she staring so hard? Handprint smudge? The orb shifted from red toward white. I'd already pulled my hand off.
"Awakener Choi Do-yul?"
"Yes."
"Urgent matter came up—mind if someone else takes over?"
"Sure, no issue."
She called a replacement, then we moved to measurement. As she left, a faint crack.
"...Crack?"
"Something wrong?"
"Nah, just mistook door noise."
Shattering sound? Imagination.
"Choi Do-yul? Change into activity wear."
Measurement time. I sandbagged max: 3 push-ups, 2 sit-ups, 300m in 45s, 0 pull-ups, punch machine 95 (lowest), standing long jump 70m... Gave it my all. Even sweated pulling minor flames.
"Whoa... Middle schoolers beat this."
The physical tester looked baffled. Yep, trash-tier. Crush me.
"Not a physical type."
"Ah! Onto supernatural ability test."
Checks flew on the list, then to an empty square room.
"One sec. Barrier activation takes a bit."
Mana Stones pricey— not always on. Free time, I pulled my phone.
Ranking's boring af.
I look idle? Sharp af.
"Choi Do-yul, test starting."
"Yup~."
Recommended the devil's game to Myeolgeuk, room lit up. Then...
Manifestation: low. Output: low. Destructive power: low... Overall: low.
Numbers so laughable, pure bliss.
"Remeasure?"
Staffer asked gently. Shook my head.
"Nah."
I'm thrilled. No anomalies.
"Choi Do-yul? Your F-rank license. Check manual for questions."
Receptionist's tone iced over. F-rank prestige? Woo, fantastic.
"Tch. F-rank? Built sturdy but trash."
"Damn, struck out today."
"This country's problem—no talent."
"Shit. C-rank would've been carried on shoulders."
Scouts grumbled low. Thought I couldn't hear? Yeon-gi-gi 3-star cultivator here. Heard it all. Logged every name: Yarot, Sura, Cherry Blossom, Blue Sea, Nuri... Life's unpredictable—don't yap. F-rank to S? Used to think impossible. But I'm living proof of overnight flips. So no badmouthing folks. (Been that way awhile.)
"Excuse me."
Someone called. Kid below, tiny hand offering card shyly.
"Recruiting members. Call if interested."
"Huh? Yeah, thanks."
"Safe travels."
Kid bowed politely, scampered off. Stared, then checked card.
"Haetae Guild?"
Familiar. Racked brain, gasped. Haetae was top-tier 10 years back. Led by S-rank Kang Tae-mu, Korea's elite climbers. Now? Gallery ghost. Heard Tae-mu died climbing, eldest daughter took over. That's all I knew.
"Hm. Something up?"
Weird. Rich last three years, they say. Tae-mu gone, but high-rankers galore. Daughter inheriting dad's death-climb guild? Prime drama bait—yet vanished? 10-year gallery vet whispers drama. But nah, smells like hassle. Their business. Still, pocketed the kid's sweaty card nicely.
"Damp."
Sweat-soaked from grip.
"Hello. Haetae Guild recruiting. Interested?..."
Hat low, I exited. Unrelated, but bitter taste. Like old me. Nah. Pointless. Kid's one-off. Good thoughts only. Dobby walks flower paths.
License secured—subsidy time! Two mil! Happy dilemmas.
But heavens hate freeloaders.
"Help! Caw! Anyone, please!"
Bus home to Dowon-dong. Monsters ambushed civilians outta nowhere.
"Knew it was too smooth."
Don't step up. Orcs, goblins—armed solid. Boss orc with epaulets. F-rank can't handle. But I was blocking a screaming woman's path.
"Guess freeloading ain't my fate."
"Chwiik?"
Ugly porker chwiiking? Tossed hat, pulled Spirit Stone from Storage Pouch, gripped tight. These punks gonna trash my hard F-rank. CCTV everywhere nowadays. So—
Flame Fist
Flames bloomed on both fists. Gaudy flash amid chaos.
"Be my punching bags."
"Kroong!!"
Massacre unfolded. Thus, Dowon-dong's hero was born.