The Third S-Class Awakens
The telekinesis test ended almost immediately. The testing equipment itself had been reduced to little more than scrap metal, so there was no way it could continue.
Kiiiiiiiiiii—!!
Han Yujin went a step further, gathering all the metallic wreckage into one place and compressing it into several solid lumps of metal. The reason he created multiple lumps instead of one was that he had grouped them by material type, and the fact that he performed the compression simultaneously showcased his multitasking ability.
“There’s no way to be more definitively S-class than this.”
The administrative officer who had watched the entire process spoke with an expression bordering on awe. It was understandable—after all, the officer, Oh Tae-min, possessed a psychokinetic ability himself.
When someone witnessed a power from the same category that didn’t even feel human, there were generally only two possible reactions: falling into awe like the officer now, or being consumed by fear.
As a Level 5 elite civil servant of the Ability Management Bureau, his reaction was perfectly appropriate. At the same time, it also improved Han Yujin’s mood.
I secretly enjoy this kind of thing too.
With that quiet realization, he followed the officer’s guidance and moved on to the next test.
The defensive capability test using Jade Skin Art was conducted the same way as before—by measuring mana density with machines. He deliberately refrained from demonstrating Radiant Golden Light Art because Jade Skin Art alone was more than enough to secure an S-class rating.
Likewise, Wind Cloud Art was sufficient to earn him an S-class in mobility, and Shadow Concealment Art had already been rated S-class from the start.
What remained were Flame Bullet Art and Spirit Eye Art, both scheduled for a full power demonstration outdoors tomorrow, and the healing ability that would be tested at the hospital today.
After the officer called in personnel to clean up the destroyed equipment, the three of them left the training room and headed for the hospital. The conversation they shared on the way concerned how Han Yujin would conduct his future activities.
If he had simply been an A-class hunter like before, such a discussion would not have been necessary.
Whether he signed with the government or a corporation would have been entirely up to him, and the officer would have only needed to make a single polite suggestion near the end of the preliminary education—something along the lines of, “How would you feel about joining the Ability Management Bureau?”
But now he was an S-class hunter.
Not only that, he was an exceptionally special talent who had risen from A-class to S-class before even finishing his preliminary education, and whose awakening abilities included knowledge that could be shared with others.
Without a doubt, reports about him had already traveled up the officer’s chain of command.
The only reason the information hadn’t been released to the public was because of Han Yujin’s own request. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been strange for the news to have flooded every headline since this morning.
It’s a little disappointing.
While conversing, Han Yujin briefly thought to himself. Although he had strategically chosen to conceal his S-class capabilities, that decision meant he couldn’t enjoy the resulting fame. Of course, this period of lying low wouldn’t last long, but he still felt strangely frustrated.
It was at that moment the officer spoke again.
“What do you think about signing a management support contract with our Ability Management Bureau?”
“Pardon?”
“You can think of it as a kind of management contract.”
The officer then began giving a general explanation.
There were several reasons why hunters chose not to work as freelancers and instead signed contracts with corporations to split their earnings.
First was the existence of a stable base salary. Since performance-based incentives were also available, the overall income wasn’t significantly lower than freelancing.
Second, access to the company’s network provided more opportunities for activities, which could actually increase total earnings. Being able to take on advertisements for the affiliated company only added to that benefit.
In addition, they would receive full support in terms of equipment and training, as well as medical care. Administrative support such as tax processing and legal assistance were also crucial factors that couldn’t be overlooked.
These benefits alone were more than enough reason to sign with a corporation without considering anything else.
Han Yujin had been thinking along those same lines and had naturally planned to sign with a company. A contract with the Ability Management Bureau was known to mainly involve public security and maintenance work, so from his position—where he needed to actively accumulate karma—it had been something he had to rule out.
However, the proposal the officer was making now strongly appealed to him.
In any case, he had no need for equipment or training support. The same went for medical care.
The only things he lacked were network support, behavioral cover, and legal assistance—and now a government agency was offering to provide all of that without asking for money in return.
“Is that really allowed?”
“There’s no reason it wouldn’t be. From our perspective, we stand to gain quite a lot as well.”
Maintaining a close relationship with an S-class hunter would allow for strategic mission assignments, so there were clear benefits on their end.
Of course, that also meant Han Yujin would occasionally have to take on tasks he might not particularly want to do, but such obligations were unavoidable no matter who he signed with.
“Then does this mean I’d become a public official?”
“No, that’s not the case. Would you like that?”
“No, that’s not what I meant… um…”
It was such an unexpected offer that, even while thinking it sounded good, Han Yujin hesitated for a moment. Then something occurred to him and he asked,
“That hunter, Choi Kangbaek… by any chance…?”
Though he was now in his seventies and no one knew when he might retire, he was a legendary elder who had been active since the early days of the dimensional collision incidents and was regarded as a living legend in Korea’s hunter industry.
“That’s correct. He has the exact same contract with us.”
“Ah.”
As an aside, the other S-class hunter was a man in his forties named Park Seryong. He belonged to Axion Guild, the undisputed number one guild in the country, operated by the global conglomerate Axion Group.
“For now, I’m quite interested. I’ll consider it positively.”
“Excellent!”
The officer, believing he had scored another achievement related to Han Yujin, looked so delighted he might slam the steering wheel. He was clearly overjoyed but barely holding himself back.
A short while later.
Upon arriving at the hospital, the three of them were able to verify his healing ability without any issues. Since he had previously received a C-class rating for it, Han Yujin had wondered if it might only reach A-class this time, but he received an S-class rating without difficulty.
In the end, if the remaining two abilities also received the same result, he would essentially have earned S-class ratings in nearly every category.
“If this becomes known, you’ll become internationally famous.”
“After proving it in real combat a few times, even a single-digit spot in the world rankings shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
As they left the hospital, the administrative officer added those excited words to the managing officer’s comment. Han Yujin suddenly grew curious and asked,
“The current number one is that Ethan Cross, correct?”
“Yes. That hunter is… well, as you know, there are many mysterious aspects about him.”
A man in his forties with American nationality, he had repeatedly proven an unfathomable strength that seemed to kill any monster he faced with nothing but a glance. He was the most famous hunter in the world and was considered equally powerful.
The prevailing theory is that it’s some kind of mental ability, but who knows.
Previously, such a person had felt like someone from an entirely different world, but hearing that he himself could become internationally famous sparked his curiosity.
If they were to truly clash, would that mysterious power still work against him, a Dharma Soul stage investigator?
Of course, he had absolutely no desire to test it in reality.
Since it was already lunchtime, the three of them didn’t part ways immediately and instead ate together at a nearby restaurant.
During the meal, Han Yujin was able to naturally bring up the topic of the knowledge he intended to distribute.
They also discussed the management support contract with the Ability Management Bureau. When he mentioned that after gaining some real combat experience he would likely need to enter the Great Rift in the former North Korean region, the officers actually seemed pleased.
After all, any Korean hunter above B-class couldn’t avoid it forever, and it was clearly a place where he could accumulate even more karma.
It was, without question, a very productive time.
After the meal, they said their goodbyes. As he returned to the safe house under escort, he was able to refine his future plans in greater detail.
However.
Things in this world rarely went according to plan.
Having safely returned to the safe house, Han Yujin was able to finish organizing the materials for knowledge distribution without any trouble. It was a moment where he felt the reward of all the spare time he had invested so far.
Afterward, he rested deeply without using his abilities. While resting, he decided on names for the two new Dharma artifacts he had obtained.
The bracelet-shaped artifact was intuitively named the Five Elements Ring. Since it was a bracelet that assisted in casting Five Elements spells, nothing could be more straightforward.
The rope-shaped artifact, which was overall a light gray with dark red accents in places, was similarly given the straightforward name Soul Binding Cord. This was because it didn’t merely bind targets physically—it also had the effect of sealing spiritual energy.
While carefully testing the two newly named artifacts to ensure the surroundings wouldn’t be damaged, he used the Soul Binding Cord to restrain the ridiculously cute little creature and chuckled to himself. Later, soothing the sulking Mu-yong ended up consuming some spiritual wine, but it wasn’t really a loss.
After that, he circulated the Hoe-won Gong to relieve his fatigue. Replacing sleep with cultivation was perfectly natural for investigators at the Dharma Soul stage or higher.
Maybe I should play some games for the first time in a while?
Once his fatigue was completely gone, the sight of the computer in the corner of the room suddenly gave him that thought.
But even after turning on the computer, he didn’t touch any games. Instead, he ordered various pet toys for Mu-yong, who would likely be bored alone quite often in the future.
Now that she had reached the Qi Condensation stage and her spiritual intellect had developed somewhat, she would probably get tired of them quickly, but if she did, he could simply order even more.
“After I finish learning engraving techniques at the Heavenly Origin Star, I’ll make you a toy myself.”
Jjik! Jjiik—!
She didn’t seem to fully understand, but she still looked happy. That naturally made him feel good as well.
Time passed quickly while he played with her, and soon the sun was beginning to rise.
But at that moment.
His smartphone suddenly rang with an incoming message. It was from the managing officer.
Han Yujin quickly read through the rather long message, then opened the nation’s largest portal site on the computer he had been using. The breaking news articles, posted only a few minutes ago, were already dominating the main page.
…What the hell?
He felt utterly bewildered.
They had clearly agreed to keep it secret for the time being—had the information leaked?
They handle things like this?
Bewilderment quickly turned into disappointment, and that disappointment slowly transformed into a faint irritation.
It wasn’t because of any potential problems that might arise from this. It was because they had promised to keep it secret and had failed to do so due to sheer incompetence.
Could he really trust people like this and proceed with the knowledge distribution and sign that management support contract? Would the information about this safe house truly remain confidential as the managing officer had assured him?
What happened?
Han Yujin asked dryly, without adding any of the usual “lol” or “haha” characters he often used. Instead of a messenger reply, a phone call came through.
“Yes, I’m on the line.”
He spoke calmly, intending to hear the story first. The managing officer immediately began with an apology.
“I’m truly sorry. We had definitely agreed to keep it confidential, but there was a communication error on our Ability Management Bureau’s side. I have no excuse.”
“What exactly do you mean by a communication error? Are you saying my intentions weren’t properly conveyed to the other departments in the Bureau?”
He hadn’t meant to sound accusatory, but once the words left his mouth, that was exactly how it came across. Rather than adding anything to soften the tone, Han Yujin simply stayed silent.
And true to the competent image he had shown so far, the managing officer didn’t try to placate him with empty words that would only increase his irritation.
Instead, as if he had accurately read Han Yujin’s mood, he apologized once more and clearly explained the cause of the incident.
As Han Yujin listened quietly, his expression grew strange.
Park Seryong…? Why him?
The second S-class hunter of South Korea. A middle-aged man affiliated with Axion Guild, currently regarded as the top figure in the Korean hunter industry in place of the aging Choi Kangbaek, whose influence was gradually shrinking despite his legendary status.
That man had forced Han Yujin—who had only wanted to lie low for a while—out into the spotlight.