Demon Hunter (2)

Indeed, a freelancer through and through. I'd finished the job and returned home, yet the sun hadn't even set. A chance for photosynthesis I could never have dreamed of in my salaryman days.

I wanted nothing more than to dive straight into my sunlit bed. But no.

Click. I neatly hung up my worn clothes on the hanger. Not satisfied, I headed straight for the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Shhh!

Damn this noble's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rules and regulations! What pissed me off more was how I was starting to adapt to this exhausting routine.

Still, let's think positive. At least cleaning didn't feel like a chore anymore.

"Much dust."

...Even so, wearing a mask to clean inside the house felt a bit overkill.

By the time I finished cleaning, the sun had set.

'Sigh, photosynthesis just wasn't in my fate.'

I immediately prepared dinner. The days of settling for delivery or instant meals were gone.

Fresh ingredients delivered at dawn. Dishes crafted with skilled hands.

How could a noble be so adept at cleaning and cooking? If asked, Grandfell was from a fallen noble house. He'd picked it up to survive.

"Not bad."

That was the lore, anyway. Grandfell's lofty pride wouldn't be broken by something as trivial as getting his hands wet. A trait that was both a hassle and a blessing to me.

'Home-cooked is better for the body anyway.'

I could feel the benefits of this disciplined life in my very bones. No more back pain from slouching. Chronic fatigue, insomnia, all those nagging modern ailments—gone.

Of course, it wasn't all upsides. Staring into the mirror, my hair gleamed under the fluorescent light.

'Anyone would think it's white hair.'

The Claudy family's hereditary silver hair. Just as the lore stated, my locks were bleaching silver.

The silver lining? It suited my current look surprisingly well.

Pour. I brewed some green tea and enjoyed tea time.

'Fussing over 50-cent tea bags. Ridiculous.'

Yet I didn't mind a bit. I'd spent the last few days learning to savor tea and leisure. Another perk of Grandfell's towering self-esteem, no doubt.

'Better than scarfing food and plopping in front of the computer, at least.'

It gave me more time to think. And that's how I arrived at a rather plausible hypothesis.

"...My dark history is influencing reality."

One by one, as I became aware of Grandfell's settings, they manifested in reality.

So what about the 'talent' praised as the Claudy family's greatest genius in history?

『Grandfell's talents knew no bounds. A brilliant mind was the baseline. His innate magical aptitude let him mimic most spells just by sight. And physical potential to match. There was good reason he was named heir at just seven years old.』

The more I recalled, the more it screamed middle school sophomore. Just cram in everything cool and awesome, right?

"Deeply shameful."

I muttered. Whether from embarrassment over my dark history or the over-the-top praise, time would tell.

To confirm, I'd need a few tests.

"A convenient era."

I pulled up NetTube on my smartphone and searched for player videos.

Sure enough, the rich get richer. Channels from players with millions of subscribers popped up.

Every one had insane views. I got it. Regular folks couldn't even approach rifts, let alone notice them. Natural curiosity about players hunting monsters inside.

Sure, you could watch a rift collapse from reality. But that meant disaster—no more sideshow.

I picked a decent video.

"?"

Just as I hit play, a text came in. Nam Cheolmin.

We hadn't exchanged numbers, but I'd contacted him first via the job post. He must've saved mine.

...Why so wordy?

Summarized: He wanted to meet. Now, or tomorrow if not.

Tricky. No clue why, but...

"This requires focus."

Regrettably. This could change my player life forever.

I fired off a short reply and played the video.

A boss raid exploding with skills and magic. I watched intently for a good while, posture ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ramrod ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠straight, then spoke.

"That suffices."

A high-end restaurant in Cheongdam-dong. Nam Cheolmin and Nam Taemin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠waited at the rendezvous.

"I'm still half-doubting."

"Half-belief in your pathetic brother? Thanks."

"Keep that up, bro?"

Nam Cheolmin burst out laughing at Nam Taemin's huff.

'Why didn't I see it back then?'

His proud little brother, Taemin.

"Everyone's talents differ. I just grinded games like an idiot. You lacked playtime, that's all. Bet you know Arcana better than me. Guaranteed."

To think this kid genuinely acknowledged him. Feeling inferior to such a brother? Nam Cheolmin was truly ashamed of his foolishness.

"Kidding. Kidding."

"With you, who knows..."

"I don't double-talk. I'll do it right, analyst."

"Record that?"

"Go ahead."

"Sigh, believe you?"

Nam Cheolmin had quit being a player. He'd take Taemin's offer as guild analyst.

The Imp possession experience sealed it.

'I knew my limits. But...'

The man who'd saved him from despair. Repaying that debt was his only path.

He hadn't just repelled the Imp. He'd steadied his heart, given him the will to move forward. True salvation.

Nam Cheolmin wanted to repay him properly.

"Now I'm curious. You don't misjudge players... He really soloed an Imp? Overwhelmingly?"

Nam Cheolmin nodded at Taemin's question.

"Overwhelming barely covers it. How to put it? Even mid-fight with the Imp, no status ailments, no tension. Like it was nothing."

"If you say so. But... doesn't add up?"

Taemin scratched his head in frustration.

"Why enter a low-level rift?"

Simple reason: The man, Hoyeol, was level 55 then.

But neither brother knew that.

Taemin frowned. "And the fight's suspicious. Resisting status ailments means insane mental fortitude... Daggers, not magic?"

"Yeah."

"Thousands of classes in Arcana, but no clue."

He shook his head.

Frustration aside, the potential was real.

"...Makes me wanna recruit him and find out."

Especially since his brother endorsed him. Taemin owed his rank 11 to Cheolmin's help: boss patterns, guild ops, recruit scouting.

No brother, no top spot. He knew it.

"Gratitude's huge, yeah."

And he'd helped that brother. So Taemin drafted a generous contract.

Reviewing it, he clicked his tongue.

"Keep this from newbies—no, execs too."

"That bad?"

"Obvious. We lose big."

But irresistible. Taemin was confident.

He waited relaxed.

Bzzz.

"Reply already. What says?"

Even as it vibrated, Taemin sipped orange juice casually.

"...Problematic?"

"?!"

Splurt. Juice dribbled from Taemin's mouth.

"Wha-what?! Lemme see!!"

Unbelievable. He checked himself—worse.

Four letters. To that novel.

But Taemin was sharp. He caught the nuance.

"Not rejection. Just problematic."

His eyes narrowed.

"Other guilds beat us to it?"

Players abound, talents rare. Guilds bloodthirsty for rookies.

Especially in Korea, post-[Mage Tower] in Seoul. All big guilds clustered there.

Taemin's glare pierced rivals.

"Bastards. Seoul's our backyard."

Gaon, Korea's top guild. Globally? Top five was a stretch.

He knew reality. Couldn't lose even one player.

"Bro, specifics."

"On what?"

"His looks. Might need to fetch him personally."

"Looks..."

Nam Cheolmin recalled the man. Dress shirt, slacks, even loafers.

"First impression: Who dresses like that?"

He'd geared up properly inside... but still mismatched for rift diving. Loafers to the end.

Yet unflappable. Goblin melee? Trap encirclement? Imp face-off?

Zero change. Overlooking it all from on high.

"...Hard to describe."

Taemin prodded the pondering Cheolmin.

"Mythical beast or what? Can't even explain?"

...Mythical beast?

It clicked.

"...Yeah!"

Nonexistent in modern Korea, unseen... but perfect fit.

"Like nobility. Utterly noble."

"...Huh?"

"That suffices."

On possibilities.

Staring through the video, thoughts swirled analytically. Not envy or awe—pure dissection.

I was analyzing the magic.

"!"

A spell's structure crystallized in my mind.

Absurd, really. Those were skills, not magic.

Yet I saw it. With enough mana, I could cast it...

Obviously not Lee Hoyeol's talent.

"My mind hasn't ossified yet."

Claudy genius supreme. Grandfell's gift confirmed.

Too soon for certainty. But potential warranted investment.

And it branched wide: magic, swordplay, archery...

Grandfell's talents weren't singular.

Well done, past me. Go big or go home on the cool stuff.

Embarrassing either way. Own the dark history.

Potential confirmed, no rush. Sword? Bow? Magic? No gain picking now.

Demon Hunter's ambiguity at play.

But ambiguous didn't mean all flaws.

Sometimes everything's a strength—that's ambiguous too.

Or keep options open for now.

"Then."

Time to spend those hoarded stat points.