Surpassing 100,000 Viewers
The air on my way to work felt heavy, like cotton soaked in water.
Every step felt like pushing through an invisible, sticky membrane.
The street bustled as usual, but no one came within ten meters of me.
People walking while staring at their smartphones would jolt in surprise and step aside as they drew near.
This wasn't the reaction to spotting a celebrity.
It was the instinctive terror of prey facing a predator, backing away in horror.
In the corner of my right field of vision, a blue window flashed wildly.
Viewers have surpassed 100,000.
Gaze Pressure rises to A-rank.
My breath caught in my throat.
My eardrums dulled as if I'd been plunged into deep water, and my vision narrowed.
A futile cough escaped under the overwhelming weight crushing my lungs.
One hundred thousand.
The weight of their collective gaze was no longer just a feeling.
It had turned into physical gravity, pressing down on my shoulders and twisting the air around me.
I'm going insane, for real.
I pulled my cap low over my eyes and quickened my pace, gasping for air.
I wanted to collapse right there on the street, but stopping would only draw more stares.
I was turning into the familiar alley toward my studio apartment when I spotted the scene ahead.
I ducked behind a utility pole in a panic.
Three large black vans blocked the alley.
Reporters with massive cameras, mysterious men in suits with earpieces, and dozens murmuring my name surrounded the building entrance.
My heart sank.
My safe haven—my home—was completely overrun.
I couldn't even imagine what would happen if I walked into that crowd.
My legs trembled.
Bzzzzt.
My smartphone vibrated irritably in my pocket.
I bit my lip when I saw the caller.
It was Mom.
"H-Hello?"
"Minsu, honey. Are you that hunter on the news right now?"
Her voice trembled.
I swallowed dryly.
"Mom, no, it's not like that. There's a misunderstanding…"
"The hospital director suddenly came by and offered to move me to the best private room.
And then some big guild called, saying they'd cover my medical and surgery bills for life. Everything's in an uproar.
What dangerous stuff are you getting into?"
The word hospital squeezed my throat.
My vision went dark.
It felt like a hammer to the head.
I could endure reporters or guilds harassing me somehow.
But now the fire had spread to Mom in her hospital bed.
The hands reaching for me were burning my family first.
"Mom, don't accept anything, absolutely nothing.
I'll explain everything later, so if any guild or anyone calls, just say you don't know.
Got it?"
"Minsu, you're not hurt, are you? Your voice sounds off."
"I'm fine. I have to head to my part-time job now, so I'll hang up."
I ended the call quickly and leaned my head against the utility pole wall.
Tears welled up.
My fingertips shook so badly I could barely hold the phone.
My inner ear buzzed even after hanging up, and a metallic taste lingered in my dry mouth.
Dawn air seeped through the window cracks, but my body wouldn't cool down.
There was nothing good about being famous.
It was ripping away even my hidden daily life.
I could no longer live in hiding.
The chat was a frenzy of celebration.
They were reveling in my despair, live-streaming even the chaos outside my home.
The van window probably cracked not from my killing intent, but from the A-rank Gaze Pressure exerted by 100,000 viewers as physical force.
No matter how much I ran, this cursed system was determined to demolish everything around me.
I pulled my cap brim lower and bolted toward the main road instead of home.
My destination: Saebyeok 25, my workplace.
It was the only refuge I had right now.
I weaved through alleys and finally reached near the store.
But the scene out front was no better than at home.
A dozen people peered through the glass, milling around the entrance.
The silver lining: my A-rank intimidation kept them from boldly entering, leaving them muttering outside.
The commotion outside spread fast.
Someone leaked my name; another gossiped about what I'd supposedly done, coughing awkwardly.
I'd run away, but the world had already sniffed me out to the alley's end.
I slipped around to the back alley, avoiding the crowd.
I unlocked the rear door connected to the warehouse and ducked inside.
"Hah… hah…"
I collapsed onto the warehouse floor, panting heavily.
My whole body was drenched in sweat.
"Three minutes till your shift starts."
The Store Manager entered through the warehouse door, grumbling curtly.
He held a bundle of price stickers.
"Store Manager, outside… there are people…"
"I know. They've been staking out since earlier."
His expression didn't change as he fiddled with the stickers.
His demeanor was utterly detached from the madness outside.
Or rather, he was dismissing that madness as mere loitering complaints at his store.
"They're smudging fingerprints on the glass. And blocking the entrance like that keeps real customers out."
He jerked his chin at me.
"Go out and tell anyone who's not a customer to scram. No blocking business—buy something or get lost.
I'll decide when to call the cops, so just say the words."
"Pardon?"
I stared up at him blankly.
With 100,000 viewers swarming and major guilds waving blank checks.
The people outside saw me as a monster rivaling S-rank.
Yet to the Store Manager, I was still the minimum-wage part-timer shooing nuisances from the front.
Strangely, that didn't feel scary.
At least inside this store, I wasn't a monster or hero—just the guy whose name was on the shift schedule.
"Hurry and put on your vest. Watch the counter. I need to switch and head out."
He tossed the convenience store vest onto my shoulder and headed into the store.
I clutched the vest to my chest, staring blankly at the floor.
Oddly, his indifferent nagging anchored my fraying mind back to reality, just a little.
I slowly stood, slipping on the wrinkled vest.
I zipped it up fully, adjusted my cap in the mirror.
In the corner of my vision, 100,000 viewers still watched.
I walked quietly to the counter.
Through the automatic doors, I saw their eyes flash upon spotting me.
All I wanted was to do my part-time job.
Quietly scan barcodes, pass the time, heat up discarded lunchboxes, and pay off Mom's hospital bills and my debts.
That small, ordinary life was all I wanted to protect.
But I could never return to it now.
The world wouldn't leave me alone, and this blue window wouldn't release me until I died.
Countless gazes outside the glass and 100,000 more in the floating blue window bound me tight.
There was nowhere left to run.
At the same time.
Hunter Management Bureau, Deep Analysis Room.
In the cold room under stark white lights.
A woman lounged deep in a leather sofa, flipping through a file on the table.
Baek Sihyun, Korea's top S-rank analytical hunter.
Her icy eyes mechanically scanned the text.
Baek Sihyun tapped the desk lightly with her finger.
A hologram video floated in the air before her, looping repeatedly.
A C-rank dungeon boss, the massive Trent, knelt and submitted before Kang Minsu.
Her gaze alternated between Minsu's back in the video and the "F-rank" on the file.
Her absolute analytical ability had never been wrong.
The data screamed that Kang Minsu was a perfect, pathetic F-rank human.
Mana flow, muscle density, even minute heart rate changes—all matched powerless civilian levels.
Yet in the video, Minsu stood before the spot where the hulking Trent had lowered its trunk in submission.
Baek Sihyun's eyes narrowed.
Thud.
She closed the file with a sharp snap.
A faint curve formed on her lips.
She remeasured the gap between the video and the file.
It wasn't just the mismatch—it was that it kept repeating.
"Guess I need to see him myself."
Her cool voice echoed in the empty analysis room.