Shedding the Old Skin

The next morning after molting, I stood in front of the mirror as soon as I opened my eyes. Was it thanks to reaching level 5 and the overall correction to my physical stats? The dull complexion had gained vitality, and my body lines felt subtly more toned. Add in the psychological stability from the leeway in my wallet, and the man in the mirror exuded a completely different vibe from that porter just a few days ago.

I headed straight to a boutique in the city. It was to dump all the stretched-neck T-shirts soaked in sweat and dust from porter work into the trash and steel my resolve for a fresh start.

"I'll take this one."

A high-quality cotton white T-shirt that looked like something the model on the display would wear—clean yet highly mobile—paired with dark slacks. I also bought several simple outfits for everyday wear. The total came to over a few hundred thousand won, but it was pocket change compared to the three-million-won balance stamped in my account.

While I was out, I stopped by the salon I'd been eyeing and got a quick trim. Stepping out, my reflection in the shop window felt unfamiliar. Neatly styled hair, clean clothes. And the Keruk's Mana Engraved Bracelet peeking from under my sleeve. Now, finally, I'd shaken ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off the "porter" stench.

I stashed the new haul in the goshiwon wardrobe and headed straight to the Hunter Association.

"I'd like to book a solo clear for an F-rank gate."

The receptionist scanned the paperwork, then stared at me blankly. Lee Sua. Feels like I'm running into her a lot. Maybe it was my clean getup that didn't scream "gate-ready," or perhaps she knew about yesterday's level 2 boss kill at the entrance.

"Hunter Kim Jihoon, didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you say yesterday you'd only hunt at the entrance...?"

"Yeah, but I ended up clearing it by accident while hunting."

She stared at me for a moment before handing over the list of available bookings.

Got here late, and sure enough, only the Goblin Forest left today... I'd planned to hit the Goblin Forest to test Mana Snare, but it was a bit disappointing deep down.

As I was about to sign the form, an obnoxiously showy voice cut in from the side.

"Huh? Hey, you... Kim Jihoon, right?"

A guy with shiny lightweight armor slung over his shoulder approached through his buddies. Park Jincheol. Back in high school, he'd been just like me—a dust mote in the corner of the classroom, barely noticeable. But after awakening, he joined the mid-tier Blue Ocean guild and turned his life around, or so the rumors went. And here he was, strutting like a peacock.

"Long time no see, Park Jincheol."

"Whoa, new threads? Porter gig paying off? What're you doing here? Still scouting porter spots?"

Jincheol eyed my outfit up and down, flashing a sleazy grin. No matter how good the clothes, to him I was still an easy mark—a lowly porter.

"Here to book. Solo play."

"What? Solo? Dude, you nuts? Even F-rank, going in alone is suicide. Porter life that rough you gotta risk your neck now?"

Jincheol jeered loudly for his buddies to hear, then patted my shoulder like he was doing me a favor.

"Hey, we're old classmates—I can't just watch you die. Our party's hitting an E-rank today. I'll squeeze you in special. Porter pay'll be extra generous, so tag along."

The surrounding hunters snickered. He hadn't been like this before... Position makes the man, huh. I glanced indifferently at Jincheol's smug face and his crew, slid the booking form to the counter, and replied.

"Nah, I'm good. Solo's easier."

"...What? Ungrateful much? Fine, don't come crying when shit hits the fan."

Jincheol's brow furrowed, a deep sigh escaping him. Looked like his pride stung that a former peer dared reject his "generous" offer. As I turned away, he hammered in one last barb.

"Oh yeah, class reunion next Saturday. Big-shot hunters coming too, so show up. Might find a guild that needs a porter with your experience."

I gave a light nod instead of answering and walked off. Behind me, I vaguely heard Jincheol grumbling and his buddies consoling him, but my focus was already on the faint mana flow from the bracelet on my wrist and the plans ahead.

The air inside the gate I revisited was still dank and heavy.

"Kikigik!"

A goblin burst from the underbrush, swinging its club. I instantly focused mana at its feet.

Mana ropes erupted from the ground, binding its legs. The goblin charged but was yanked off balance by the snare's tension, tumbling headfirst. I calmly finished it with a Mana Bullet.

The binding effect of Mana Snare was impressive, but my mental calculator ran cold.

MP cost: 15. Near-100% accuracy since it's instant-cast, but terrible cost-performance for a single goblin.

With my current Intelligence, blocking a goblin attack with Mana Shield cost around 5 MP. Snare was triple that at 15. Spamming it on trash mobs was like chipping away at my mana ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reserves needlessly. Even if ambushed, tank one hit with shield then finish with bullet was more efficient.

Limit Mana Snare to simultaneous threats or tough foes needing secure DPS windows.

With my combat policy set, the hunt picked up speed.

As I pushed forward, goblin numbers increased. At a spot where three charged together, I deployed the saved Mana Snare.

Snared the lead one's feet to shatter their formation, sniped the panicking pair with Mana Bullets, then cleaned up the bound one. For trash like this, I knew the snare held firm even if dragged out.

After sustained combat, I notched two level-ups. Points went straight to Intelligence without hesitation. Skills were sufficient for now, so I held off on skill point allocation.

And at last, near the dungeon's end, I faced a goblin far bulkier than the shaman.

My mana was down to half, but confidence surged—I could take it with what I had left. Why do all goblin names suck so bad? Midway through the thought, the warrior with its rusty axe spotted me and charged with explosive speed.

"Gurrruk!!!"

Now.

Its strength and bulk were leagues above regular goblins. Even the shaman's attacks had shaved nearly 40 off my shield—too risky to tank with Mana Shield, and with my low Agility, kiting was near impossible. Perfect moment for Mana Snare.

Boom!

The warrior's legs locked mid-air right in my face. True to warrior class, it didn't fully topple—barely held balance and glared. The panicked goblin bellowed grotesquely, twisting and flailing its axe wildly. The mana ropes stretched taut under its strength, sparking.

Already signs of snapping?

No time to think. I aimed at the rage-exposed forehead.

Intelligence 21 mana swirled, compressing into a bullet.

Bang!

The Mana Bullet pierced the goblin warrior's skull dead-center, shattering the rock wall behind and roaring. Overwhelming Luck and Intelligence ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠21 sent the hulking body crumpling without a scream.

Unlike yesterday's luck-dependent shaman kill, this wasn't reliant on chance. Just one extra skill enabled safer, lower-mana hunts. Pushing down the surging thrill, I pulled out my dagger and began looting.

One week until the reunion. I'd devote it all to hunting, vowing further growth as I hurled myself out the shimmering gate.