He's F-Class, But Why Is My Body Reacting?
Hunter Management Bureau, Deep Analysis Room.
Under the stark white lights, Baek Sihyun stared down at the panel displaying Kang Minsu's data.
The numbers were brutally honest. Mana at 12, no skills, stamina below average.
Yet even as she read those figures, her fingertips still trembled faintly.
The stats don't add up.
The pressure she'd felt in that alley was unmistakable. It wasn't some act of feigned fear.
Her heart had raced, her muscles had locked, her breath had shortened. The data offered no explanation for why her body had reacted first to an F-class human.
Baek Sihyun swiped the panel forward. The biometric log from the moment Kang Minsu had spat out his denial popped up again.
Heart rate 180, adrenaline spiking, full-body rigidity. The readings were unnervingly precise.
If I didn't misread it.
She pressed her lips together. The data screamed weakling, but her instincts whispered monster.
Whichever was wrong, she could verify it herself. And she was already leaning toward the side that craved answers.
"This time, I need to check it in person."
With those words, she grabbed her jacket.
Maru-gu, Saebyeok 25 convenience store warehouse. I huddled between stacks of boxes, clutching my head.
The smell from yesterday's alley still lingered at the tip of my nose. Cold metal, wet asphalt, and that chilling aura that had clogged my throat.
"Haa, this is driving me insane."
Why me, of all people?
Why'd she have to look at me like that?
Baek Sihyun's face flashed in my mind, sending a shiver down my spine again. That wasn't the face of someone calling for help.
Not even a predator sizing up prey. It was the face of someone fixated on an incomprehensible object right in front of them, determined to dissect it.
Just thinking about it made my stomach churn. I clamped my hand over my mouth and steadied my breathing.
Every inhale stabbed my nose with box dust.
Every exhale twisted my gut.
I glared at the screen.
"No, I bolted because I was scared."
I shut my mouth for a moment. Their words were ridiculous, yet somehow not entirely off-base.
Hiding? Yeah, spot on. But not for tactics—just plain fear.
At least the stream's still up.
As long as it doesn't shut off, I don't feel totally abandoned.
That thought eased my shoulders just a fraction.
I pressed harder on the box edge, refusing to admit it.
The sting in my fingertips anchored my mind.
Tactics my ass.
I'm too busy surviving.
I sighed, pulling my knees up. The viewer count not dropping was somehow more terrifying.
The more people, the chillier my back felt. Like if I breathed too loud, someone would fling the door open.
I glanced at the chat again without thinking.
The noisy text felt less scary than empty air.
If it vanished, I'd truly be alone—so I reached out, then barely stopped myself.
What the hell am I doing?
Tape on the box snagged my finger. I peeled it off, rubbing my fingertips a couple times.
My cold palm stung anew. My body was still rigid, like it was trapped in that alley.
I scowled.
"Addict? Please."
But my hand was already peeling the next box's tape. Packaging scraps crunched underfoot on the warehouse floor.
Even that sound echoed too loudly. I swallowed and shuffled back toward the store.
Then the warehouse door flew open.
"Kang Minsu."
The store manager poked his head in.
I bent at the waist on reflex.
"S-Sorry! I'll head out right now."
"Head out? Finish with the boxes first."
He ignored my shaking legs completely.
That indifference somehow made me feel alive.
"No customers? Get to the shelves. Ramen's empty, milk goes to the back."
"Y-Yes, got it."
I shoved the boxes away and bolted from the warehouse. As the door clicked shut, the cold clinging to my back finally peeled off bit by bit.
The store lights beat the warehouse gloom hands down.
Human scents, shelf smells, electronic beeps. These were the sounds of my world.
I straightened the ramen while constantly glancing back. Just in case Baek Sihyun was lurking beyond the glass door.
But outside, only a delivery truck rumbled past.
Only then did I exhale long and deep.
I shifted my gaze to the counter.
The manager scanned the milk section and clicked his tongue.
"Longer expirations to the back. Is that so hard?"
"Sorry. I'll fix it right away."
"And what's with your face? See a ghost?"
"N-No, just tired."
He didn't pry further.
Instead, he grabbed a discarded triangle kimbap and tossed it onto the scanner.
"Put this away. Serve it to customers, and I'll haunt you."
"Yes, sir."
That nearly made me laugh. Here, final bosses, S-ranks, viewer counts—all vanished. Only kimbap dates and ramen order remained.
The fridge motor growled, the barcode reader beeped sharply. I sorted milk while flexing and clenching my fingertips.
My body hadn't fully thawed from the alley.
But standing at the shelves, at least I knew where I was.
Readjusting the ramen brought Baek Sihyun's gaze back unbidden.
Not the eyes of someone preying on fear, but fixated on a bizarre phenomenon, refusing to let go.
That scared me more. Normally, the strong bully the weak and move on—but she pressed while convinced I was hiding something.
I hated that conviction most. I only hide what I can, and ditch what I can't fast.
I muttered while sorting milk.
Yeah. Just this today.
Ignore guilds, hunters—stick to hauling boxes.
It wasn't heroic resolve. Just the most cowardly way to not collapse right now.
Still, a corner of my heart settled. Knowing I could run was enough.
But that relief didn't last.
Hunter Management Bureau, Deep Analysis Room.
Baek Sihyun shut off the hologram panels, jacket on.
The blue glow filling the room vanished, plunging it into cold silence.
She closed her eyes briefly. Kang Minsu's terrified backpedal was still vivid.
Not an act—a reflex. Bodies reacting first rarely hid anything.
She glanced out the window.
Then back at the blank screen with his name.
Data still labeled him F-class.
But her body remembered him as dangerous.
That contradiction wouldn't let her go.
"Paperwork won't cut it."
Her voice was soft.
Analysis was done.
Now she needed proximity, not distance.
Baek Sihyun didn't hesitate. She straightened her black jacket sleeve and headed for the door.
Her steps weren't rushed, but certain. Data was out—fieldwork remained.
As the elevator doors closed, she flexed her fingertips once more.
The alley's pressure lingered on her skin. Records said F-class, but her body drew a different conclusion.
She wouldn't sleep tonight without resolving it.
Destination: one place.
Maru-gu's Saebyeok 25 convenience store.
And this time, she wouldn't just pass by.