Hidden Trait? Is This Good?

We live in the age of hunters. Mansions worth billions, flashy supercars. Incomprehensible powers that defy the laws of physics. Everyone looked up to hunters—and feared them. Some hated them or felt inferior.

And we non-awakeners living in the hunters' age? Life was a total shitshow.

"It's freezing... but I'm dying of heat here..."

Black Tower, 20th floor. A brutal winter tundra dungeon with biting winds howling everywhere. The fact that I was running a mobile forge ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a place like this said it all.

Clang-clang!Rat-tat-tat-tat!

Between the rhythmic hammer strikes came the chatter of machine guns. Lately, the gunfire had gotten a lot louder.

"Vice-leader! With gunfire this intense, the front lines must be right on top of us!"

"It's still fine, so keep hammering!"

The blacksmith talking to me was a fellow non-awakener. The guy next to him was too, and the one next to that one, and even the bastards firing away in the distance—all non-awakeners. In fact, there wasn't a single hunter among the humans gathered on this floor.

The reason a bunch of powerless weaklings like us had climbed all the way to the 20th floor was simple. Mana stones. Once just a byproduct of the tower, now they were an immense energy source, a strategic resource for the future, and the catalyst that powered hunter growth. It was all because of mana stones—and the hunter bastards who wanted to exploit them.

Long ago, once the chaos from the Black Tower had died down and society stabilized, the hunters—who were fat and comfortable—started scheming in other directions. They wondered what would happen if the tiny handful of awakeners who could mine mana stones controlled the supply.

They flooded the market with massive quantities or cut off supplies entirely to tame it. They used mana stone distribution as a weapon to snatch up all sorts of interests and profits. Naturally, the free market got wrecked in the process.

So the government came up with a drastic countermeasure: Hire non-awakener mercenaries and send them into the tower. Secure even the tiniest scraps of mana stones steadily to protect our mana sovereignty.

"Those guys are out of their minds... I swear, once we clear the 20th floor, I'm retiring for real."

"You've been saying that since the 1st floor, you know?"

"This time it's different...!"

I stoked my quit fantasies and pulled the blade from the forge. It was a bayonet for attaching to a rifle—one I'd hammered and reheated for ages.

Now it just needed quenching to wrap up. The process of rapidly cooling the red-hot metal lump to make it harder.

I stood in front of the oil barrel and caught my breath. Quenching always made me tense. It was like getting judged on all the prior heat treatment and forging work. No helping it.

If the blade's thickness wasn't uniform, it'd warp or crack. Uneven heat treatment twisted it. Too low a temp and the edge dulled fast. Overheat it and it'd shatter easily.

Even if everything was perfect, uncontrollable factors like variations in the iron's carbon content could screw you over. It was a frustrating process all around.

"Hoo... Let's do this."

I held my breath and focused. Pulled the sword from the forge and plunged it straight into the oil. Ding! Zing! Crack! Pop! Tik! Any of those sounds meant it was ruined.

Hiss—

Nothing but the sound of heat dissipating. I pulled it out—no warping visible. I scraped the blade with a wire. A nice, smooth file from the whetstone. Sound and feel both perfect. No metal dust flying—no over-hardening.

"Perfect."

Now just polish it and attach the hilt, and it'd be done—

"Gah, fuck, what the hell?!"

Suddenly, weird shit flooded my vision. What? Troll shamans messing with us again? Looked like text, but it whooshed by too fast to read.

"What?! You okay, vice-leader?! Haiseon hyung! What's wrong?!"

I snapped out of it to find the guy next to me propping me up. Guess he thought oil sparks had hit me when I spasmed mid-quench.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

I calmed the junior blacksmith and sent him back. Phew... Truth was, I wasn't fine.

My right hand. Floating above where the bayonet was gripped.

The same font as the crap that had blocked my view earlier hovered over my right hand. What the... "Complete crafting?" More importantly, this system-like thing meant... I'd become a hunter...?

Then—

BOOM!!!

A massive explosion rocked near the temporary forge. The mechanics and blacksmiths panicked at the sudden uproar. Before I could calm them, a mercenary officer came sprinting up.

"Vice-leader! Trolls are raiding the rear too! We gotta pull out now! Pack up! No, ditch the gear and run!"

"Run where?! This is the rearmost line!"

"To the summon point trenches! Portal opens in 30 minutes—we just hold till then! Front units are already regrouping elsewhere!"

Fuck, trench warfare in this mess? No way. Impossible. Why else would we be casually forging blades amid nonstop shells and machine-gun fire? The ice trolls here—no good against bullets.

Some gimmick we missed—bullets couldn't deal enough damage to kill. Only cold weapons could sever their lifelines. So we had to keep forging blades while they bought time. Stoke the fires. Sharpen the edges. Razor-sharp.

"Hey! Haiseon! We stay here, we're all dead! We gotta retreat!"

"Retreat and we're still dead. How we gonna hold without proper weapons? Go round up all the blacksmiths."

We had maybe enough bayonets stockpiled for one squad—and unsharpened ones at that. Just blunt metal lumps, like the one I'd just quenched.

"Polish 'em as fast as we can. Finish this box and bail, got it?"

My blacksmith crew nodded reluctantly. What choice did they have? They knew fighting with that crap meant no chance. I hooked up the belt grinder to the generator and went to start it—

Whoosh—BOOM!!!

A small fireball streaked from afar and smashed my grinder to bits.

"......"

"...Retreat."

"Fall back! Everyone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fall back!"

No choice.

The moment we hit the road, I missed that hot forge. Pushing through the winter woods relying on a hiltless sword was grueling.

"We on the right path?"

"Yeah. Little farther and we'll link with the leader at the trenches—if her side pulled back as planned."

Sure enough, soon familiar voices rang out. Shouts and groans. Signs of battle.

"Shit...! Hurry!"

"Pick up the pace! Link up and support!"

The leader's unit was in fierce combat. Some laid down suppressive fire to block troll advances, but a few had flanked from the side. Handling them: Pyo Yeojeong, our mercenary leader, wielding her massive Claymore greatsword.

"She's fucked."

It was just for intimidation anyway. She'd trained shooting, not swordplay. As expected, Pyo Yeojeong couldn't properly control the blade or her body. Even lucky hits lacked power—just scratches. Finally, a troll swatted her away like a bug.

"Urk..."

"Leader!"

She looked bad. This'd end with her getting crushed.

"I'll grab her and drag to safety. Just keep their eyes on you with the troops."

"Crazy? Too risky."

"When isn't it? Gotta save as many as we can."

I bolted to Pyo Yeojeong. She leaned against a tree, breathing ragged. Internals probably shaken, but clinging to life.

"Ugh, urk...!"

"Hang in there, even if it hurts. Gotta get outta here first."

As I dragged the leader's bulk rearward—

A huge shadow loomed behind us.

"GRRROOOAAAR!!!"

The shadow told it all. A troll had caught up. An axe swung down on my head.

This is it. As I accepted my fate—

A bright flash pulsed from my right hand.

Oh yeah, this. Instinctively, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I willed agreement to the system. Time slowed to 0.1x speed.

Three colorful cards floated before me. One dull gray, one murky blue. One shiny purple.

Pick one? I needed penetration now. No-brainer. Chose the Unique.

The other two vanished, purple energy absorbing into the blade. Time resumed its pace.

The axe still fell—but slower. Enough gap to act. I gripped the sheath reverse and spun with all my strength.

Stab!

The blunt tip sank between the troll's ribs. Heard their hide was tough and thick. But it slid in smooth as butter.

"GRRAAAHHH—!!!"

The ice troll bellowed. Axe crashed beside us. One shot now—kill before it recovers.

Yanked the blade free. Hot troll blood sprayed. System text hovered over the blade again.

First time, but I got it. Since awakening, felt like a third arm had grown. Mana, probably.

Gripped the sword with the third arm, channeled mana. Time slowed; three cards appeared. Gray, blue... and one glowing gold.

No hesitation. Synergized with penetration. Picked Legendary.

Same process. Cards vanished, gold energy absorbed. Tick-tock— time flowed. Calmly re-aimed. Slowly, then faster—thrust into the troll's heart. Like stabbing pudding with chopsticks.

Thud!!!

The troll collapsed like a felled tree. I felt eyes on me—humans and trolls alike, staring dumbfounded.

And then.

We survived.

After escaping the tower, we all got shipped to the hospital. Pyo Yeojeong and other criticals were post-op and resting. No fatalities despite the botched retreat. A miracle.

I stared at the strange ceiling, IV dripping. Thoughts swirled. Wounded comrades. Mobile forge blown to hell. Our lot in life. My awakening.

Am I a hunter now? Surreal. No—big trouble.

Years back, folks griping about hunters formed a group. Started as a booze-and-bash club.

'We had no idea back then.'

From a used goods app group, it grew into Claymore Mercenary Corps. Then the non-awakener alliance and anti-hunter vanguard. Original members Pyo Yeojeong and I became leader and vice-leader.

And now I'd gone hunter? Fuck... Gonna get stoned.

Frustrated, I tried sitting up—abdominal pain floored me. Laid there blankly, eyes on the ceiling. Or so it'd seem. What I tracked wasn't ceiling patterns.

I manipulated the floating screen with mana.

Most posts were vaguely familiar. I got the gist—mostly metallurgy talk—but details were alien. Same with popular threads.

Pure fantasy vibes. I'd just awakened, but never heard hunters mingling with novel/game beings. Felt like I'd isekai'd.

Mesmerized, I lurked a while, gauging the vibe. Cautiously posted my burning question.

That day, I got 300 comments.