The A-Rank Verdict
Having quickly recovered from the shock, the administrator left the mangled wreckage of the metal pillar where it lay and continued with the remaining tests.
The defense test involved Han Yujin activating his Jade Skin Technique, after which the official scanned the mana density with a device that looked like a laser thermometer.
“Every individual’s defensive ability has too many variables for hasty conclusions, but at this level you should be able to protect yourself quite well in real combat. How does it feel?”
“It feels roughly like wearing a sheet of metal armor.”
“Excellent. That’s at least C-rank, possibly even B-rank… It’s a shame we can’t run harsher tests since the effect activates perfectly fitted to the skin. The more data we gather, the safer you’ll be in actual battle.”
After asking about the perceived weight and mana consumption and noting the answers, the administrator moved on.
The mobility test was straightforward: run hard along the long U-shaped track set up in one corner of the training room. The system measured it the same way it would clock a vehicle’s speed.
Han Yujin activated his Wind Cloud Technique but chose not to reveal his flight capability. He simply raced through the track at high speed. The administrator, standing before the computer equipment to check the readings, clapped with genuine enthusiasm. It left Yujin feeling slightly embarrassed.
“That’s on par with B-rank acceleration! Let’s run the test once more!”
The administrator’s excitement, as though the results were his own, washed away much of the initial impression of an arrogant elite.
The following telekinesis test took longer. It required lifting, moving, and throwing objects of various shapes and weights toward randomly appearing targets set twenty meters away. The throws had to be precise, not random.
Bang!Boooom—!
The metal rod flew through the air and struck the target dead center. It toppled with an ear-piercing screech, as if about to shatter. Without realizing it, Han Yujin glanced at the administrator’s expression.
“Power, speed, and precision are all above B-rank. Dedicated training rooms exist for A-rank and higher, so we’ll verify again there later.”
Yujin wondered whether that was necessary when this was only for a basic qualification certificate, but he was also curious whether his Object Manipulation Technique could earn an A-rank rating, so he let the matter pass.
The concealment test took place inside a machine that resembled a mana scanner but was large enough for the subject to stand inside. The result surprised even Han Yujin himself.
Concealment Technique: S-rank
“S-rank… Your concealment power is extraordinary.”
“S-rank?”
“It’s already at the level of blending into the air itself. There’s almost no room for improvement. Adding equipment such as an invisibility cloak would make it flawless. You could work as a scout if you wanted.”
A scout was the role that entered a rift first to map the internal environment and identify hazards.
It was a necessary job, yet suitable talent was rare. Scouts were treated as precious assets with correspondingly high market value. It was considered normal for them to be entirely exempt from follow-up combat.
So my Concealment Technique was better than I realized.
Or perhaps it simply meant that the standard for hiding mana on this Earth was exceptionally low. When the baseline was low, the measuring stick for judging it would naturally be low as well.
The remaining abilities—Spirit Eye and Healing—had no suitable testing methods available here.
“Mr. Han Yujin.”
The administrator, deciding to conclude this portion of the tests, added almost as an afterthought.
“With the results we have already, you can easily qualify as an A-rank hunter.”
“A-rank…”
“Of course, for your own benefit you’ll still need preliminary education and real combat experience. I’ll personally arrange a connection with the Hunter Specialist School.”
“By school, you mean the instructors there?”
“Active hunter safety officers will accompany you as well. You’ll essentially join the students during their practical training. This is the standard procedure for late awakeners like yourself. Normally applicants handle it themselves, but in your case we’ll take care of it.”
“I see.”
“And…”
He paused briefly, then asked in the most courteous and friendly tone he could manage.
“If your awakening ability is knowledge, would you be willing to share it?”
“If I were, how exactly would things proceed?”
Han Yujin’s positive nuance drew an eager explanation from the administrator.
In short, the process involved filing a patent, signing licensing contracts with chosen parties, and collecting royalties. Should he choose to contract directly with the Ability Management Bureau, a government body, they would guide him through every step from start to finish.
“Royalties for this type of license are normally set at around ten percent. If you want more, I’ll push as hard as I can. If the terms still seem unsatisfactory, we could explore negotiations with specific corporations instead…”
He trailed off, but Han Yujin could already guess the rest: how cumbersome and time-consuming it would be for an individual to register glyph-related knowledge as a patent without government assistance, and how much additional time and energy the subsequent contract negotiations would demand.
“I understand this is far too important a decision to make on the spot. Would you be open to me assigning you a dedicated case manager in the meantime?”
“A dedicated case manager?”
It sounded like something from the entertainment industry. For a moment Han Yujin wondered if the Ability Management Bureau was that idle, but he quickly understood.
He had proven A-rank hunter talent the moment he awakened. More importantly, that talent took the form of knowledge that could be shared with others.
The principle that knowledge is power applied at the national level as well.
All the more so for a country whose population was relatively small compared to its strength, one that constantly felt the shortage of hunter manpower—especially when the Great Rift beyond the 38th Parallel Defense Line, the one that had annihilated old North Korea, still existed.
That rift was ranked the third most dangerous demonic realm in the world. It threatened not only Korea but China and Japan as well, forcing the three nations into close cooperation whether they liked it or not.
If Han Yujin’s knowledge could strengthen their hunter forces, the Korean government would have every reason to covet it.
Seen that way, this level of treatment does seem natural…
After a moment’s thought, he asked about something else.
“I’m fine with a dedicated manager. However, I have one additional condition.”
“What would that be?”
“Money is welcome, but I want my knowledge to spread as widely as possible—both domestically and overseas.”
“Ah, so that’s what you meant.”
The administrator smiled and nodded in understanding. He appeared to have concluded that Han Yujin sought fame alongside wealth.
“In that case, contracting with our Ability Management Bureau would be even more advantageous. Corporate contracts tend to focus on monopolizing the technology to maximize profit.”
The logic was sound. Han Yujin nodded, showing a favorable attitude.
Of course, he weighed other factors as well.
As far as he knew, South Korea’s Corruption Perceptions Index was quite respectable. If memory served, it scored 84 out of 100, placing it among the world’s top ten.
Whether because the nation had endured many ordeals, or because the supernatural crises of dimensional rifts and awakeners had culled those who spoke smoothly but acted poorly, the current atmosphere had been maintained well.
Of course, no country was free of political ugliness, but it was not bad enough to warrant blanket distrust.
In short, the risk of being badly betrayed after signing with the Ability Management Bureau seemed low.
Besides, I hear the Bureau is rather special even among government agencies.
Its importance and independence were said to be unusually high for a mere bureau. There had even been talk of promoting it to a full department.
The exact reasons were unclear, but international treaties concerning ability users, along with the political implications and concerns that abilities inevitably generated, had apparently left it in this ambiguous position.
“Shall we move to a different location and finish the remaining tests?”
That meant the observation ability, healing ability, and the dedicated A-rank training room for telekinesis.
The thought that he had already done more than enough for a basic certificate vanished with the administrator’s next words. These were all steps he would eventually have to complete if he intended to work as a hunter.
In that case, it was better to finish them while a civil servant was personally assisting. He followed the administrator without complaint.
The telekinesis test was conducted in a dedicated training room elsewhere in the same building. The results came back A-rank in power and speed, B-rank in precision, and A-rank overall.
They then drove to a nearby hospital to test the healing ability. During the ride the administrator made several hurried calls, apparently handling administrative paperwork. In the meantime Han Yujin discreetly searched on his smartphone to learn the man’s civil service rank.
It turned out he was a fifth-grade official—equivalent to a lieutenant colonel in the military. Yujin wondered whether someone of that caliber was normally stationed at the center.
Regardless, the special treatment of having such an elite bureaucrat personally assist felt extremely satisfying.
Thanks to that influence, the healing test proceeded smoothly and earned an upper C-rank rating. Afterward they moved to an outdoor training ground where the setting sun provided the perfect conditions to obtain a B-rank evaluation for his observation ability.
Once every test was complete, the administrator kindly drove him all the way home.
“You mentioned you’re a university student. Do you plan to continue?”
“I think I’ll take a leave of absence first and consider my options.”
“Leaving the application open and postponing is one way. But if you have no particular passion for scholarship, dropping out entirely wouldn’t be a bad choice.”
It sounded like personal opinion rather than official advice. Since Han Yujin inwardly agreed, he nodded readily.
“It’s not as if you’re quitting under bad circumstances. You’re about to become an A-rank hunter—the kind people call a walking conglomerate.”
“Now that really is an exaggeration.”
“But you are special, Mr. Han Yujin. Whoever you eventually contract with, you’ll still receive license royalties…”
His smiling face as he spoke now felt genuinely hearty. The arrogant-elite aura from their first meeting had completely vanished.
“Is your building inside here?”
“You can drop me off anywhere along this stretch. It’s close enough.”
The remark came in response to the navigation’s instructions. When the administrator offered to drive the remaining short distance and Yujin refused several times, he finally reached for the door.
“Ah, that’s right. I nearly forgot.”
The man rummaged through his suit’s inner pocket, pulled a business card from his wallet, and offered it with both hands in a deeply respectful gesture. Han Yujin could only respond in kind.
“This isn’t mere politeness. If any troublesome matter arises, please contact me without hesitation. Your dedicated case manager should reach out within two days as well.”
“Thank you.”
“Then I’ll be on my way. You must be tired after today—rest well.”
“Please drive safely. Thank you again for all your help today.”
“No thanks necessary. It was my job.”
After they parted with smiles, Han Yujin watched the car’s taillights disappear down the street and suddenly felt the full weight of how drastically his life had changed.
The scenery around him had not altered in the slightest, yet because his circumstances had shifted, the feeling he received from that same scenery was now completely different.
Simply breathing filled him with quiet satisfaction. At the same time he felt strangely buoyant, as if floating a few inches above the ground.
Yes… In the end, this place has to remain my main base.
For better or worse, it was an undeniable hometown.
Even if his awakening ability let him adventure freely through countless fascinating worlds, even if he gained priceless and mysterious experiences there, he would always have to wake from the reality of this Earth.
Walking toward his plain, shabby, cramped one-room apartment, a question suddenly rose in his mind.
Just how did that post-apocalyptic Earth end up destroyed…?
Was that place truly the future of this world? Or was it merely one possible branch, like in certain movies—a parallel world that was the same yet not the same?
I should check tonight.
He needed to at least learn what had killed him inside that gold-and-silver shop.
And if, by any chance, that place really was the future of this Earth, then he would have to find some way to confront the coming apocalypse.