Why Are the S-Ranks Visiting an F-Rank?
Even after the bell rang, I couldn't turn around right away.
It was only after the store manager told me to stock the shelves first that I finally managed to turn from the display rack.
The cup ramen box in my hands was heavy, but that wasn't what was pressing down on my neck right now.
Baek Sihyun stood by the counter, pretending not to look at me while clearly doing just that.
Lee Dojin fiddled with a soda bottle cap in front of the drink fridge.
The man from Taesung Guild, holding his binder, scanned the entire convenience store from a short distance away.
All three of them were watching me.
Just that fact alone made my breath shorten.
I quickly grabbed the box and turned toward the ramen corner.
I figured if I pretended to stock the shelves, their gazes might scatter a little.
But my fingers stiffened first, and sweat made the box edge slip.
The smell of cardboard mixed with the cold air from inside the fridge, stinging my nose.
Please, no one talk to me anymore.
Voting
I nearly dropped the box.
"What."
Baek Sihyun looked up at the small sound that slipped from my mouth.
"Why."
"No, nothing. Something just popped up."
I quickly averted my gaze.
Choose the identity of the current broadcast target:
1. S-class or higher
2. Hidden special entity
3. Guild or government affiliate
4. Real F-class
A new window had opened in the center of the screen.
The question was simple.
The moment I saw option 4, for some odd reason, my stomach sank a little.
Of course it was 4.
But I couldn't figure out why they'd bother listing it separately like that.
It almost looked like they were saying the obvious answer was too obvious, so suspect it instead.
I pressed my lips together tightly.
I was still an F-class, unchanged.
But I couldn't understand why people kept doubting that fact.
It's really 4.
Just pick 4, isn't that it?
BJ Kang Minsu — Viewers: 241,000
I snapped my head up at that.
"No, that's actually true."
The chat froze for a moment after I spoke, then erupted even harder.
My mouth went dry as I stared at the screen.
Why are they like this?
If I'm really F-class, I'm just F-class.
The more I thought that, the more the chat rolled toward certainty.
1 was too much and got eliminated.
2 was dismissed as hiding the essence.
3 was quickly shoved aside—who'd expose a guild or government plant so blatantly?
Only 4 remained, but its honesty made it a joke instead.
I placed one box on the shelf, then readjusted its angle.
My hands were slower than usual.
Every time their gazes shifted from over there to here, my shoulders stiffened on their own.
The chat was watching even my every gesture.
I couldn't even force a smile, ending up with a weird expression instead.
The moment they saw it, Baek Sihyun narrowed her eyes.
"What did you just say?"
"Pardon?"
Lee Dojin closed the fridge door with a low chuckle.
"Even his mutters are shaky—super suspicious."
The suited man quietly lowered his gaze too.
"That reaction doesn't seem like simple coincidence."
All three sets of words flew straight at me—or more precisely, at the empty air I was staring at and my expression, but it stabbed right into me anyway.
I gripped the ramen box harder for no reason.
00:42 until end
A countdown timer appeared on the voting screen.
My heart plummeted the instant I saw that number.
I was shoving the ramen box onto the shelf when my hand froze.
The cardboard edge dug into my palm, but I barely felt the pain.
Only the timer ticking down filled my vision.
00:41.
00:40.
With each number dropping, my throat dried up more.
No results yet, but the vibe was like everyone already believed their conclusions.
Believers in 4 were so few they were a punchline.
1, 2, and 3 sniped at each other, pretending to hunt the most plausible path.
But no one looked truly at ease.
They all knew.
This vote wasn't about finding truth—it was just confirming how suspicious I was.
I slotted one ramen pack into the shelf.
My fingertips felt ice-cold.
No matter the result, I'm just F-class.
Why ask me about it?
I set the box down and glanced toward the counter.
The manager was sorting receipts with a clueless face, and somehow that reassured me.
At least inside this store, the vote hadn't touched reality yet.
It felt oddly off.
The chat was mixing my name, identity, and numbers right now, but outside was too quiet.
Baek Sihyun seemed to interpret that silence differently.
She alternated between my fingertips and the empty air, blinking very slowly.
"Your hands are shaking."
"The box is heavy."
"Not that kind of shake."
I gripped the box tighter for no reason.
Lee Dojin let out a small laugh from beside the fridge.
"Final boss rattled by one mutter."
"I'm not the final boss."
"That's what makes it fun."
It wasn't fun.
Not one bit.
The Taesung Guild man silently set his pen tip on the binder.
The click echoed too loudly.
I knew instinctively that silence wouldn't last long.
3 seconds to close
As the final number blinked, the chat held its collective breath.
Staring at the screen, I couldn't hold the box anymore.
The cup ramens inside clacked against each other.
I held my breath, afraid even that sound would get overanalyzed.
But holding it made it weirder.
The longer I held it, the harder their expressions grew.
Like I was deliberately suppressing the mood.
I was just scared.
Results still pending.
But what came next already terrified me more.
Baek Sihyun spoke very softly.
"Kang Minsu-ssi, your reaction's lagging. Watching internal processing or a delay?"
"Please don't say that."
"We still have to check."
Her voice was dry, but her fingertips drummed the counter at steady intervals.
Like an analyst's habit—or a way to hide impatience.
Lee Dojin stopped joking too.
His face in the fridge glass looked a bit stiff.
The man with the binder paused his pen, trying to follow my gaze into the empty air before stopping.
Of course, they saw nothing.
Yet it felt like they were all staring at the same spot.
That was what I hated most.
People staring at the invisible.
People already believing what they shouldn't.
And me, stuck in the middle, missing even the timing to insist I was real F-class.
Results pending...
The voting window hadn't closed yet.
Results loading like they were catching their breath, the blank space blinking faintly.
I counted inwardly as it blinked.
One.
Two.
Three.
My fingertip sweat cooled in the meantime, the box edge still biting my palm.
Pain hit late.
But I couldn't let go.
I had to cling to something solid.
The end tone rang out.
My heart sank hard again.
No results yet.
Voting slots frozen, but the numbers still seemed alive.
Believers in 4 remained few, and that scarcity loomed larger.
I told myself I didn't care why it bugged me so much, but I couldn't look away from the screen.
Whatever the result, I'll probably still be F-class.
But why's everyone waiting like this?