Irregular 1
"Just three weeks."
On the first day, I sold two hundred potions, then ninety-six each day for the next three days straight. After that, I vanished without a trace, much to everyone's surprise.
The reason was herbs.
I'd stumbled upon a one-month herb lecture course by chance. It wasn't aimed at the Herbalist class but at general combat-type hunters. In fact, even non-Herbalists could gather herbs, and ordinary herbs were actually picked more often by regular hunters than Herbalists. That was simply because there were overwhelmingly more regular hunters.
So Herbalists trained these general hunters to collect common herbs for them, while offering rewards if they reported the locations of rare ones. Since regular hunters couldn't harvest those rare herbs anyway, it was a win-win with no downside.
The course was originally four weeks, with the last week spent in a dungeon. But since I couldn't enter dungeons, I only took the first three weeks.
Luckily, during that time, I succeeded in understanding the herb called Baren. No new potions unlocked, but the understanding of my existing Health Recovery Potion jumped from 55% to 70%.
I encountered various other herbs too, but unfortunately couldn't raise their understanding levels. Still, learning about them helped me identify which ones I'd need to handle in the future.
Once the course ended, I logged back into the market after a long hiatus to sell potions. I hadn't made them hourly, but I'd crafted steadily here and there, stockpiling a thousand over the three weeks.
But when I finally connected after three weeks, the market was gone.
"What the hell? Why's the market missing? Did it get deleted because I didn't sell anything for three weeks?"
I couldn't believe a market would vanish just for skipping sales for a mere three weeks. Surely the basic conditions at creation hadn't mentioned that. Not that I'd read the massive wall of tiny fine print in the terms of service.
"No, if it's that important, they should write it in big letters and make it clear."
Grumbling, I hit the button to create a new market.
But what was this now?
The current user cannot create a market.
"What the—?"
The market disappearing was baffling enough, but now I couldn't even create a new one? It made no sense that skipping sales for three weeks would cause this.
That's when I noticed the alert in my message inbox. A new message had arrived.
"No way?"
Wondering if it explained the market block, I opened the inbox.
From: Hunter Management Bureau
Content: If you permit, we will come to escort you. Please reply via message.
"What the hell is this? What's going on?"
• • •
"It has to be the potions, right?"
The moment I saw the message, I knew this wasn't simple. The market vanishing was suspicious, but okay, maybe. But unable to create a new one? That's when doubt crept in.
Were there issues with the potions? Did they only work as heals for me and not other hunters? Maybe defect reports blocked my market creation.
But that thought vanished upon reading the message. If there was a problem, they wouldn't phrase it so politely. They'd have come to drag me away already.
"What exactly is wrong with the potions? Guess I need to meet them."
This meeting might drastically change my future. If my potions differed from others', everything I made from now on could too.
I couldn't stop thinking about the aftermath.
After brief hesitation, I replied to the message. Moments later, my phone rang.
"Hello?"
"We've come to escort you. We'll wait out front."
It was as humble as the message. What the hell had happened during those three weeks offline?
Pushing aside my worries, I stepped outside. A luxury sedan waited, with a sharply dressed man standing by the car.
"Hello. If you have any discomfort or questions, feel free to ask."
"Got it."
No need to match his deference with my own. Grasping the situation came first.
The car set off with me inside. After about ten minutes, I asked,
"Who's waiting?"
After imagining dozens of scenarios, this was the question. No point in amateurish queries like "Where are we going?" or "Why me?" that'd reveal my inexperience.
"The Hunter Management Bureau Chief is waiting."
"I see."
I nodded calmly, but inside, chaos erupted. The Hunter Management Bureau Chief—officially outside the top ten in the power hierarchy under the president, but in real influence, second only to the president. Rumors even said he wielded more power, managing all hunters and dungeons.
The top powerbroker in Korea, excluding the president, waiting for me?
What the—? The Bureau Chief isn't some idle pushover. Why me?
When I saw the message, I'd vaguely assumed some mid-level Bureau staff. Never dreamed it was the Chief.
My mind reeled.
There really is something special about the potions. Something huge.
It was a hunch bordering on certainty. Otherwise, no Chief-level figure would summon me personally with such treatment.
What secret hid in my potions to cause this? My curiosity surged.
Meanwhile, the car slowed, entering a residential alley, pulling into a massive mansion and stopping.
"Please proceed alone from here. An attendant will be waiting at the path's end."
The driver pointed down a gravel path.
Following it, a garden straight out of a movie greeted me.
The Chief's house? Or some annex?
Crossing the garden, myriad thoughts swirled. Finally, the path ended at a stately hanok.
"He's waiting inside."
The woman at the door opened it. I nodded lightly and entered.
As I stepped into the room, the Hunter Management Bureau Chief—familiar from TV—rose and offered a handshake.
"At last we meet, Mr. Kim Suho. I'm Lee Musin, Chief of the Hunter Management Bureau."
"Pleased to meet you. Kim Suho."
I was startled by the high-ranking figure rising to welcome me, but played it cool. No rudeness, though.
"Please, have a seat. Care for a drink? Or tea?"
"Tea, please."
Lee Musin gestured to a seat and asked. I chose tea.
"Very well. Prepare the tea."
"Yes."
The woman who'd opened the door replied. Tea arrived promptly—they'd prepped both, no doubt.
Pouring steaming tea, Lee Musin spoke.
"Truly astonishing potions."
My prediction was spot on—something about the potions.
I sipped silently.
"Countless potion makers have tried eradicating mana addiction over the years, yet none succeeded. For a hunter awakened just three months ago to achieve it... remarkable."
Bingo.
They'd uncovered my potions' secret. But it far exceeded my expectations.
Mana addiction cured?
As Lee Musin said, no such potion existed. Even basic ones were dosed for healthy adults at one bottle max, accounting for mana addiction.
At least mana addiction was treatable within limits, unlike fatal trauma.
Treatment hunters' heals were incomparable to potions. Even the weakest inflicted 100% mana addiction—severely.
Thus, public access was limited to basic potions. Still, they'd halved accident fatalities—a huge impact.
What the hell? What did I make?
My potions solved it outright. No mana addiction, no matter how much used. As long as no instant death or severed limbs, accidents were survivable.
If word spread, global billionaires, celebs, and leaders would swarm. Top hunters might already be dispatched by heads of state.
Hold on—what have I done?
Realizing this, fear hit. I'd dumped game-changing items on the public market without a thought, exposing myself blatantly.
As worries mounted, Lee Musin spoke again.
"Fortunately, we quickly verified the potions and laundered your info, Mr. Kim. Your NPC potion market is now under another hunter's name. You'll receive a new identity upon leaving. For delivery location exposure, the Bureau will handle shipping."
Relief washed over me.
But one doubt lingered. The reaction seemed excessive, even for amazing potions.
"Thank you. But why go to such lengths for me?"
Lee Musin smiled faintly.
"Because you're an Irregular, Mr. Kim."
Irregular? First I'd heard.
"What's that?"
"Hunters wielding power on a whole other level from conventional strength. Like you, Mr. Kim."
"What does that matter?"
"A world of difference. Know Article 17, Clause 2 of the Hunter Law, ratified by the World Hunter Association and 218 nations?"
Of course not.
"All hunters possess freedoms superseding national authority. No nation may obstruct or interfere under any circumstance."
Separate, meaningless. Together, crystal clear. They were protecting and claiming me—an Irregular—before other countries snatched me.
"I see."
Everything clicked; my mind eased, face relaxing.
"Yes, exactly as you're thinking. To shield you from foreign claims, Mr. Kim. Offended?"
"No, not at all."
Genuine. Far from offended—I was thrilled. Without him here, I'd have whooped.
"Good. Now, enough preamble—onto the main topic."
"Main topic?"
"Yes. Patriotism appeals are outdated. Irregulars deserve Irregular treatment. Rights come with duties, but no worries there. For you, just supply Healing Potions monthly."
Whew.
Duties had me nervous momentarily. I'd pondered naturalization if absurd demands invoking Clause 2 arose. But just potions? Easy.
"How many monthly?"
Volume was the issue.
"Pardon the intrusion—what's your monthly output?"
Back to Origin Potion Workshop soon. Max 810 monthly. Mana growth might boost it, but that was it.
"Around 800."
"Hm... 800."
Lee Musin sighed at the low figure.
"Sorry. Short of what you need."
"How many do you need?"
"About 1,500."
"Oh..."
My turn to sigh.
Possible if buying herbs mid-processing, but Seo Taeju would notice 100%. Risky.
"Can't be helped? This volume—minus some—is for emergency services and patients. Need herbs? Bureau will supply. The Prime Minister and President earnestly requested it."
I pondered.
His sincere words swayed me. Potions for patients and rescuers—even self-centered me couldn't ignore a direct plea.
Decision made, I spoke.
"Can you get a bag with volume expansion magic? Spacious, ideally. And indistinguishable from a normal backpack externally."
My ace. Craft potions during herb processing, store in bag—evade Seo Taeju's eyes. He focused on herbs; storage solved it.
"Of course. Child's play. Top-grade, immediately."
Lee Musin beamed.
Worried about rare herbs, but just an expansion bag? No issue.
"Then, 1,500 monthly is feasible."
"Truly grateful, Mr. Kim. You'll save countless lives. On their behalf, thank you sincerely. Now, the real main topic. Your Irregular grade is Grade 1."
"Grade 1?"
"Internal classification by Irregular ability—not raw hunter strength, but benefit to Korea. Grade 1 is top-tier; only Zero above it. Now, Grade 1 benefits."
To be continued in the next chapter...