The Intern's Calculated Move – And the Guild's Hidden Truth
The three panelists stared at the tablets with confident, almost arrogant expressions as they tapped the submit button.
Maria, along with the other interviewers, immediately reviewed the answers. A moment later one of them spoke up.
Practical interview questions for the Flame Guild operator position have been submitted. Review in progress.
“As you already know, the operator’s most critical role is on-site situation assessment followed by tactical instructions. From now on, we will run you through a simulated mission based on the answers you just submitted.”
One by one, the candidates were called forward. The order was strict and the tension high. When it came to Kim Suhyuk, Maria fixed him with a cold stare and asked directly.
“Kim Suhyuk. You chose to force the raid. Tell me why you ignored the risks in the problem log.”
Kim’s face tightened, but he answered without hesitation.
“I chose the most aggressive approach because, as the records show, the party entering the dungeon was already in grave danger. The only way forward was to push hard.”
Maria’s gaze never wavered. “But the log also states there were wounded and supplies were critically low. Was the risk worth it?”
“It was,” Kim insisted. “The party leader is an A-rank hunter. If we focused every supporting hunter on the dealer, we could succeed.”
Maria nodded slowly. “Interesting. The main dealer’s rank is indeed A, so your calculation was sound… on paper.”
The next candidate followed the same pattern—again choosing the aggressive raid. The panelists exchanged glances, clearly impressed.
Finally it was my turn. Maria fell silent for a long moment. The other panelist leaned forward.
“Well then, Lee Minsu. Let’s see what you submitted.”
The entire room turned toward my tablet. Maria’s expression shifted instantly.
“Oh? This answer is the complete opposite of the others. Absolute no-go on the raid and immediate retreat. Lee Minsu, what grounds did you use for such a judgment?”
Every pair of eyes in the room locked onto me. The silence that followed was heavy.
“I have grounds,” I said calmly. “Here is my reasoning.”
MCIs for the party members were already beyond the threshold. The Mental Contamination Index theory states that any hunter entering a dungeon or contacting monsters will suffer psychological pollution. Once it exceeds the limit line, debuffs become unavoidable.
The interviewers were stunned. The screen displayed the live MCI calculations I had made moments earlier. Every single one of the party members had crossed the threshold.
“How is this possible?” one muttered. “The problem said the main dealer was A-rank and capable of carrying the team.”
I continued without emotion. “The logs show the dealer’s MCI was well below the limit. But the others had already been pushed over it. That changes the equation. The raid would have failed before it began.”
Blue Flame – Mana Heart Collapse Suppressed
Maria leaned back, genuinely surprised. “You based your decision on the most current theory.”
“Yes. The International MCI Symposium was held three days ago. Professor Seong Chaerin presented new findings. I applied them directly.”
The room went dead silent. Then the whispers began.
-[MCI Threshold Exceeded] – Operation Aborted
“The MCI theory is still under constant revision,” Maria added quietly. “Flame Guild itself updates our models with Professor Seong’s latest work every quarter. Most other guilds still rely on outdated academy formulas. That is why your answer was so precise.”
The panelists stared at me in disbelief. One of them finally spoke up. “Even so… your MCI calculation differs slightly from the official Flame standard. Doesn’t that mean it might not be the correct answer?”
I met his eyes without flinching. “No. The official standard is already outdated. I used the absolute latest theory available.”
Maria’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more. The rest of the practical interview continued. When it ended, every candidate looked utterly exhausted.
“The correct answer was already prepared,” Maria announced. “Your scores are already finalized. Check your tablets.”
The candidates rushed to look. Gasps filled the room.
“It was Ha Junhyeon’s guild,” another muttered. “They cleared the AA-rank dungeon. The answer can’t be wrong.”
Maria raised one elegant hand for silence. The screen switched to a detailed explanation.
After the successful raid, most of the guild members retired within months due to severe PTSD. The guild was dissolved. The operation that looked like a success was, in reality, a failure for any single guild to sustain.
“That is why we marked the answer as no-go,” Maria said quietly. “Flame Guild chooses direction over momentary glory. We will not repeat the same mistake.”
The candidates nodded reluctantly. One of them could not contain himself. “But the calculation was correct! The main dealer’s MCI was below the limit. At least for this simulated mission, it should have been accepted!”
Maria shook her head firmly. “Seo Dongyoon. Show me your MCI calculation.”
Three tablets appeared on the screen: the official Flame standard, Seo Dongyoon’s answer, and mine.
The interviewers erupted.
“Flame’s standard and Seo Dongyoon’s are totally off,” one whispered. “But Lee Minsu’s matches the official almost exactly.”
Maria smiled thinly. “The official answer already crosses the threshold. That means the party was already mentally poisoned before the raid even began.”
She turned to me. “You used the most current theory available. The MCI Symposium was held three days ago. Professor Seong Chaerin presented new findings. I checked the academic journal myself—uploaded only two days ago.”
The room fell into stunned silence.
“Wait,” Maria said, voice tight. “The new theory is that recent? Impossible. The symposium ended only yesterday.”
I met her eyes. “That is the point. Some of us have been paying attention.”
The practical interview was over. Scores were posted. Mine had been flawless.
The candidates filed out one by one, faces ashen. Maria remained. The heavy silence returned.
“Lee Minsu,” she said at last, “I was stunned by your answer earlier.”
“I only read the papers beforehand.”
“No.” Maria stepped closer, voice low. “I want to apologize to Yuri on your behalf. I truly mean it.”
She bowed deeply—eighty degrees, palms together over her abdomen, the posture of a noble lady performing a formal apology. Maria was an executive director and former duel champion. She had never bowed to anyone in this room before.
I remained silent. After a long moment I exhaled. “There is no need.”
“Please.” Her voice trembled slightly. “Yuri is like a sister to me. I cannot let her face this kind of danger alone.”
I looked at her steadily. “The risk is already calculated. The judgment was not based on emotion. It was based on the data.”
“Data,” she echoed bitterly. “Or perhaps foresight.”
“Both.”
For a long time the two of us simply stood there in silence. Then Maria straightened and offered her hand. “Will you take Yuri as your partner?”
I accepted the handshake. “I will. But the real test will come later.”
“I know.” She smiled for the first time. “Just… don’t let the guild swallow you whole, Lee Minsu.”
The personality interview was scheduled for the next day. I had no doubt Yuri would approve my final score. But the executive directors—Maria included—would also be present. They might veto me.
I smiled faintly. “Let them try.”
The final personality interview began. All remaining executives were present. Maria sat at the head of the table, expression unreadable. Yuri was not there, but the weight of her absence was felt more than any presence.
“We have reviewed your scores,” one executive announced. “The practical portion was flawless. Now, personality.”
Maria’s eyes met mine across the table. For the first time she did not look cold.
I knew what she was thinking. “The Colorless Key has already chosen me,” I thought. “Whether the guild accepts it or not.”
The interview ended hours later. The final verdict would be posted the next morning.
As I left the building, the city lights of Seoul reflected in my eyes like distant flames. Somewhere in the distance, Red Lake’s shadow was already moving. But for the first time in years, I felt something dangerously close to hope.
Maria’s voice followed me into the night. “Lee Minsu.”
I turned. She stood at the entrance, tall and composed.
“Yuri wants to see you tomorrow. At the guild tower. Be there on time.”
“I will.”
She gave a small nod—almost a bow—then turned and disappeared into the night. I stood alone under the streetlights, the weight of the Colorless Key burning quietly in my chest.
The guild had chosen me. Now I had to choose whether I was worthy of them.
And if I was not… well, I had less than a year to live anyway.