Chapter 29: News Headline - Mysterious F-Class

The room was so quiet I could barely swallow my own breath. Darkness had fallen outside the window, but I couldn't bring myself to turn on the light, just huddled at the edge of the bed.

Streetlight leaking through the curtain gap felt sharper than usual tonight, making me keep glancing away. I could even see an unfamiliar car parked down in the alley below.

Ever since that news story broke, every little thing looked like it was out to get me.

After the article went up, my phone hadn't stopped buzzing once. It hadn't even been half a day since the convenience store's location and my face spread nationwide, but unknown numbers, the Management Bureau, even distant relatives I'd lost touch with were piling on.

Store Manager said there'd been cars circling the shop during the day too. He told me to call him right away if we closed up—those words scared me more than the register did.

I couldn't even properly grab my uniform bag from the part-time job, convinced someone was standing right outside the door.

Bzzz, bzzzz. My phone vibrated again on the floor.

It didn't feel like a vibration—it was like bugs scraping inside my body, chilling my spine with cold sweat. I glanced at the blue window floating in the air.

Viewer numbers weren't dropping.

If anything, they were surging now that my personal info had leaked.

Phone rings, notifications, the blue window—they all blurred into the same terrifying noise.

Another vibration. This one dragged on long.

Caller ID restricted. Felt like ignoring it would bring disaster, but picking up meant instant death.

Trembling, I answered. The screen felt ice-cold against my palm.

The world had frozen solid before I hit accept, but the second it connected, my breath came even faster. Would they hear me panting?

I hunched my shoulders without thinking.

"H-Hello?"

My voice cracked miserably.

A brief silence, then a low, smooth middle-aged voice came through.

"Hunter Kang Minsu. This is Choi Do-gun of Cheonun Guild."

My heart plummeted. Cheonun Guild.

One of the top major guilds in the country, calling an F-class like me directly. My mouth went dry, tongue stiff.

"I saw the news. Hiding as an F-class, huh? Very intriguing."

"N-No, I'm really just F-class."

"So humble to the end."

He didn't hide his chuckle. "The terms are simple."

"Signing bonus: 5 billion won. Revenue split 9:1."

"Of course, 9 goes to you, Hunter."

The numbers hit me before he even finished. 5 billion wasn't money—it mocked my situation like a billboard.

But scarier than the sum was the gaze filling my room right now.

The moment I signed, I'd become their "precious asset." No more places to hide.

My dungeon-cowering body would be exposed in front of everyone. In Cheonun Guild's dungeons, no less.

What I wanted to hide wasn't power—it was my terrified face.

I swallowed hard and opened my mouth.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know how to fight. My mana is only 12."

Saying that last number choked me with self-pity. Still, I clung to it desperately.

12 was 12. The real terror wasn't the number—it was how they twisted it into something positive.

"Hunter Kang."

His tone dropped a notch. "Rejecting Cheonun's offer won't be as easy as you think. Let's meet in person to discuss."

Polite, but laced with unrefusable pressure.

My breaths grew shorter.

Anyone would hear it as a threat, wrapped in velvet softness.

Then the blue window shook wildly.

The chat exploded, and the studio apartment's air pressed down with it. The tiny room filled instantly; the windows rattled.

Chest tightening, I took short gasps. Every flash of the blue window made the wallpaper quiver.

Felt like invisible hands pinning my shoulders—I hugged my knees on reflex.

"N-No, that's not it! I have a night shift tonight. Gotta go!"

I nearly screamed it and hung up.

Click.

The instant it cut off, I braced on the floor, gasping raggedly.

"Hah... hah..."

I hung up out of pure fear. Not because of the money or the offer.

But I couldn't explain that. The more I caught my breath, the clearer the room's vibrations became.

I stared at the chat window, praying it'd quiet down—yet that silence terrified me more.

But the chat took it completely differently.

I clutched my head. What the hell were they seeing to reach those conclusions?

Legs gave out; I collapsed face-down. But they thought I was playing it cool on purpose. I just didn't want to die alone in this room.

No one would believe that. I bit my lip.

At the same time. Cheonun Guild headquarters in the city center.

Choi Do-gun stared at the black screen long after the call dropped. The hallway was silent; city lights faintly reflected off the glass walls.

That quiet amplified the pressure from the call.

"Did they... reject you, sir?" his secretary asked cautiously.

Choi Do-gun didn't look up. Kang Minsu's final words lingered in his ear.

Cracked and trembling, yet laced with inexplicable pressure. He kept replaying the breaths over the line.

Too sharp for a scared man's gasp, too precise for weakness.

'I have a night shift, so I'm hanging up.'

It sounded like a scream on the surface, but Choi Do-gun heard different. A declaration: daily life trumped Cheonun's offer.

Brushing off billions without flinching.

Only now did he realize he'd touched someone money couldn't buy. He was convinced: S-rank or higher—no, something beyond.

"Master, should we send someone?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

Choi Do-gun cut him off. "That was us being tested."

"Means 5 billion's not enough. Up the offer."

The secretary froze.

"How high should we go?"

"Blank check. Hell, consider more."

He rose slowly.

"Can't let a monster like that go to another guild."

His voice was low, but his resolve sharp.

Back in my studio. Breath steadying, my knees finally gave.

I dragged myself up. Had to grab the convenience store uniform.

Shift time was closing in. No courage to step outside yet, but I had to move.

Staying still meant another call.

Then it vibrated again.

Bzzz. Bzzzzz.

Sharper than before.

Another restricted caller ID.

'Again?'

Swallowing irritation laced with deeper dread, I answered.

Planning to cut it off first this time.

"H-Hello? Look, I'm really not doing hunter work. No guilds for me."

"Hunter Kang Minsu. Apologies for the intrusion."

The voice was calm.

Polite, with an elegance that stiffened my body.

"I heard you just turned down Cheonun Guild's offer."

"How did you...?"

"When prime goods spark competition, word travels fast."

A short breath, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then:

"I'm Kim Tae-hwan, master of Taeseong Guild."

My mind blanked. Taeseong Guild.

Bigger than Cheonun—the de facto top power in Korea.

Before the last call even cooled, an even bigger name strode into my room.

"Unlike Cheonun, I won't test you with pocket change. Name your terms. Blank check ready."

That flipped my terror upside down. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A bigger guild following right after—and my rejection alone made me priceless.

My desperate escape call had ignited a bidding war.

I just mouthed silently. It was flight, pure ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and simple.

Fear, overwhelm, desire to hide—that's all. But outside, it looked like failed negotiations.

Every rejection hiked my value; bigger monsters lined up.

I controlled nothing.

I gripped my smartphone tighter. Palm slick, slipping.

Terror rising to my throat, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the verge of turning scream instead of breath. Outside was quiet, but that quiet sounded like waiting for the next ring.

One news line crumbled my day; my fear couldn't stop it, only summoned bigger guests. Fingers still shook.

It wasn't over. Not yet.

Again. Breath truly catching.

And that scream hadn't even started.