Hunter Center Trouble 02: "A Man?"

Jeong Eunhye's pupils shook with a massive earthquake. No matter how she looked, it was odd. He was a man.

Yeonwoo stealthily gauged the receptionist's reaction.

I knew this would happen.

What she'd feared had come to pass. The reason Yeonwoo had asked if ID was needed was precisely because she didn't have any. Yeonseo had judged it suspicious—since the resident registration card still had her old photo intact—and unhesitatingly cut it up and burned it.

"Huh, that's weird."

Everything matched perfectly except the gender. Household registry, address, family relations—all of it.

The receptionist's gaze darted back and forth between the monitor and Yeonwoo. Unable to contain her impulse, she subtly rose and peeked down at Yeonwoo's crotch. Of course, two towering peaks blocked the view. But that very fullness was proof enough.

"I get that a lot. Even my little sister calls me 'oppa' sometimes."

"Oh my, what a joker."

Yeonwoo brazenly played it off with a grin. Then she pulled out the excuse she'd prepared with her sister over a long chat.

"Must've been a mistake by the director. He was the type to hit the bottle at the drop of a hat."

"Pardon? The director...?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"I'm an orphanage kid."

"Ah...!"

Tragic backstory piled on top of her stunning looks left the receptionist reeling. She even furrowed her brow, shooting daggers at some unknown orphanage director.

"Could you maybe contact them?"

"No luck. It all burned down."

Yeonwoo's expression turned bitter. Good memories? Hardly.

"At least my sister and I survived. We're scraping by somehow, just the two of us."

"Ah, oh... um."

Now she was clamping her mouth shut entirely. Sympathy welled up—they must've had it rough—and with it, a sense of duty to help. No way someone this pretty is a guy.

"If you're okay with it, I can handle the admin processing for you."

"Really? You can do that here?"

"Of course. The Hunter Division holds top authority over every administrative department except the Special Mobile Team."

Honestly, it was no big deal. Just change one odd number to even, and done.

"But first..."

The receptionist trailed off. She had to bring up the status window—the most sensitive info for any hunter.

"I'm really sorry, but could you show me part of your status window?"

The system-guaranteed status window was absolute truth. You could hide details, but not fabricate them. Names especially couldn't be faked.

She's thorough about her job, at least.

Name alone? No issue. For smooth future hunter ops, showing it clean was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠best.

"It's the least I can do after all your help."

Yeonwoo touched her earring. She revealed the status window, masking only her Stigma.

"Oh my."

She hadn't expected it shown so readily; now she looked surprised. Usually, those famous for looks or skill played hard to get with their "face value." But Yeonwoo's straightforward honesty had her worried instead.

"Hunter Yeonwoo, please don't go flashing this around anywhere, okay?"

The receptionist knew it sounded ridiculous—she'd asked to see it, after all.

"I don't show it to just anyone."

"Ah, goodness."

Her cheeks flushed. Not being "just anyone" made her feel special. But the pleased smile faded fast. Her eyes caught the passive trait: [Pain of Loss].

The orphanage Yeonwoo mentioned flashed in her mind.

"Ah."

A short sigh escaped her. Burned-down orphanage. Pain of loss. How heartbreaking must it be to manifest as a passive trait right upon awakening? Shame washed over her for judging this poor soul by her beauty alone. Now she just wanted to help however she could.

Meanwhile, Yeonwoo spotted it too.

Oh right, this thing!

Upon regression, she'd been too distracted by her Stigma and looks to check it.

Who came up with this name? It pissed her off. A lot.

So, what did the proof of her "precious weapon's" loss do?

That's actually great?

In simple terms: numb to pain. No matter the skill, a hunter's path came with agony. Lessening that inevitable suffering wasn't just comfort—it was survival.

Gates were wild. Unexpected pain shattered focus, sapped strength needed for strikes. And since gates and awakeners emerged, medicine boiled down to "still breathing?" Survive the pain, and you'd pull through.

Top-tier trait, hands down.

Heh.

Laughter bubbled up. Her lips twitched upward involuntarily.

To the receptionist, though, Yeonwoo looked like a tragic heroine mustering a brave smile over her sad past. A protagonist rising strong!

"Here, take my card!"

She thrust ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it forward energetically.

"If anything comes up, call me. Anything at all—no pressure. I can help more than you think!"

Yeonwoo took it. Simple design, but thick, plush paper.

Way higher rank than expected—unimaginable, even. Yeonwoo's eyes widened.

Receptionist Jeong Eunhye beamed at the reaction, then tapped the back of the card.

Handwritten personal direct line.

Honestly shocking. Yeonwoo, who'd earned veteran status through grit, figured Eunhye must be a powerhouse of effort too.

"Wow. Young and already this impressive."

"Pardon?"

The offhand admiration drew a double-take from Team Leader Jeong Eunhye. She thought: If only all hunters were this humble. Honey dripped from her gaze.

"Admin's all done."

Thanks to her, it flew by. A 5th-grade civil servant? Ironclad.

Thus, Yeonwoo was now a woman—biologically and administratively.

"Thanks for the hard work."

"Let's head out then."

Eunhye extended her hand.

"Pardon?"

"Come on."

Yeonwoo stared blankly; Eunhye grinned and just grabbed her hand, tugging.

"There's a New Hunter Support Program."

"Oh, that one."

Yeonwoo had applied before. Waitlist dragged a month; she got shoved out before properly testing weapons.

"Available right now?"

"Yup. This is barely a favor. You're more modest than you look, Yeonwoo."

Eunhye flashed a confident smile. "Hunter-nim" had smoothly shifted to "Yeonwoo."

She was thoroughly enjoying her position of benevolence.

But mental superiority didn't last.

Pretty sure they had all types, right?

Yeonwoo recalled. Basic program: test practical weapons hands-on, get one you like for free. Every basic type available.

So...

Fuse 'em all.

Only take one? Fuse with her Weapon Stigma and take everything.

Bonus: test fusion effects.

Heh.

Laughter escaped. Anticipation gripped her hand.

"Ow."

The squeeze hit Eunhye's linked hand too.

"Such enthusiasm."

Her cheeks reddened at the firm grip. Superiority melted; fully disarmed, she led Yeonwoo along.

In Team Leader Jeong Eunhye's heart, Yeonwoo had become her little hunter.

The New Hunter Support Program was inside the center. Past a gate like a subway turnstile by the counter—straight there.

The gate was a scanner, like security checks. Blocked hunters sneaking multiple weapons.

Fuse and done.

Yeonwoo chuckled inwardly at her cheeky plan, following Eunhye. Who just thought Yeonwoo was excited and smiled warmly.

Soon, a wide space opened. Center: training dummies for testing. Walls lined with weapons.

Longswords, greatswords, daggers, hammers, bows. Every type, similar looks.

Designs overlapped—themes matched. All iron-based. Safest basics for newbies.

Other weapons? Corner stack of wooden training swords.

"Pick freely. I recommend swinging a few to find what fits your hand. No rush—we've got time."

How much rapport had built from counter to here? Eunhye's cheery kindness was something.

"Uh, sure."

Yeonwoo wasn't used to this. Polar opposite of her past visit.

The curt reply narrowed Eunhye's eyes.

"Ah, this kindness is... unfamiliar. Not used to it. Thanks, Team Leader."

"Ah...!"

Gratitude disarmed her again. Orphanage and Pain of Loss lent plausibility. Couldn't resist helping her little hunter.

"I'll guide you one by one!"

Eunhye rolled up her sleeves.

But that wouldn't do.

"Stay comfy. Gotta do this myself to call it hunter steps. You've helped enough—first stride's mine."

Yeonwoo spoke fast. Veterans were survivors. Social savvy essential for gains.

"Right, my bad. Take it slow, your pace. Fighting!"

Eunhye folded instantly. Sat at a nearby table, chin in hands, beaming mom-smile at Yeonwoo.

This'll work.

Fusing nearby? Trouble. Distance let her hide with her back.

Yeonwoo headed to the racks, relieved. Plenty of each weapon per rack—no count worries.

First: iron sword. Solid grip, good length. Basic of basics—anyone could swing.

Yeonwoo's will summoned a small info window. Lowest grade: Common. No "special options" like precious weapons. Just solid basic cutting boost.

Nothing special.

Past Yeonwoo had grabbed an iron sword on her rushed exit.

She shifted sideways. To dodge Eunhye's gaze, held the sword vertically to shield her body, reached for the next rack's iron spear.

Same deal. Cutting swapped for piercing.

Then...

Gulp.

Yeonwoo swallowed dryly. Fate-deciding moment.

Slowly. She brought the two weapons together.

Ssshh—

The iron spear melted into the sword, vanishing. Just like offering to the altar.

As the Stigma described: weapon into weapon.

Growth?

"Whoa..."

A sigh slipped out. First time seeing this new window. Unlike basic weapon info—practically a full status screen.

It fused.

Yeonwoo stared blankly. Fusion merged all options.

Wield the sword now? Cutting and piercing effects, swing or thrust.

And this satisfaction...

Deep fulfillment from within. Hunter-only sensation. Usually from slaying gate monsters, anomaly/event rewards.

Stack enough? "Stage" rose—hunter levels.

Body strengthened outright. Sometimes new traits unlocked.

"Ahh."

Grow by fusing weapons.

That's what it means.

Yeonwoo's eyes sharpened. Her gaze darted hungrily to the sagging iron weapon racks.