Chapter 08
The source of the Status Window—Valder—was thought by many to be something like a corporation. A vast enterprise with countless subsidiaries across universes, raising hunters in preparation for the great calamity known as Ragnarok. Something along those lines.
“The initial model of the Valkyrie Network was to create individual skills for each hunter. Valder itself assigned skills tailored to every person’s aptitude and specialty.”
Before my eyes, countless pictograms of people appeared. They flashed with scenes of individuals gaining power and thriving across worlds—though crudely animated, as if effort hadn’t been wasted on making the instructional video impressive.
I’d heard this once before in a general university lecture. Something like The Structure and History of the Status Window… though the exact name escaped me.
“But as the number of hunters rapidly grew beyond Valder’s capacity, we constructed the Valkyrie Network based on accumulated data.”
Soon, the glowing skill effects of countless hunters merged together, forming the familiar icon of the internet. They tangled and fused into a single mass.
“Now every hunter can search for skills suited to their abilities and circumstances. We call this the Valkyrie Network. Instead of assigning unique skills individually, we streamlined the service with shared skills while also granting additional stat bonuses.”
The skills of hunters, past and present, were recorded as data. Even after their deaths, newly awakened hunters could draw upon the record—provided their abilities matched—causing the Status Window to search and display the skill.
Theoretically, anyone awakened could use every skill that had ever existed. Even those belonging to the top-ranking hunters of old.
“But the network only returns skills that reflect a person’s aptitude, specialties, and the stats they currently possess. You can’t wield a high-tier skill your body and abilities can’t endure.”
Theoretically possible, yes—if one’s stats perfectly mirrored those of a top-ranked hunter from the past. But of course, that was impossible.
The gods had written the algorithms. Who knew what Valder and those higher beings wanted or thought—but one thing was certain: they had given humans power that bordered on omnipotence.
As expected from a nation of abbreviators, Koreans nicknamed it simply: Valgorithm.
“Improving your stats is the only way to access stronger skills. And on rare occasions, hunters manifest skills not found in the data at all.”
A parade of faces flashed before me. Legendary figures in history, and even current rankers who instantly came to mind. Among them was the very man who sat at the top floor of this building.
“When a hunter surpasses the limit of what the network can provide, Valkyrie grants them a new skill. These exclusive skills—unique until the hunter’s death adds them to the database—are Valder’s way of cheering on their progress.”
Exclusive skills. Every hunter’s dream. Some even hired assassins just to peek at the additional stats of those who possessed them. Usually, of course, the assassins were the ones who ended up dead—by those same rankers.
For most of us, simply being an awakened hunter was more than enough to be grateful for. Myself included.
“As long as Ragnarok continues, Gates will keep appearing. We follow strict criteria, granting powers only to those most likely to survive within. Transmission speeds from Valder to Earth vary, however, so delays may occur in receiving them.”
“Wow, thank you so much for telling me before I starved to death.”
The sarcasm slipped out before I could stop it. If not for this, I might have drowned in debt, beyond recovery.
Naturally, the mascot giving this orientation didn’t respond. Instead, it simply offered one last piece of advice:
“It will be most effective to focus on developing special stats, rather than only the common stats provided to all hunters.”
“…And how exactly am I supposed to develop special stats when I don’t even know their names?”
Again, silence.
That was the end of the online lecture.
“Congratulations on your awakening and on becoming a hunter. We expect you to use your power wisely—for the end of Ragnarok.”
The holographic knight conjured a glowing blue spear, sweeping it horizontally in my direction. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for my body to be sliced apart.
When I opened them again, I was back inside a quiet registration booth.
“…Really leaves a bad taste, cutting people down like that.”
After wandering aimlessly for a while, I finally asked a passing hunter what to do. He told me that if it was my first day, I should just go home.
So that was that. No missions, no training—just a few lectures, a signed contract, and then back home.
Now I understood what those job-hunting forums meant when they said guilds often just threw recruits straight into the field without mentors.
[Tomorrow is the day for recurring payments.]
Unfortunately, rent wouldn’t wait. I’d already been late several times, so this time there was no postponing it. I had no choice but to deposit the money I’d just received.
I collapsed onto my bed. Depressing as it was, my life would start fresh next month. All I had to do was endure a few more weeks.
I’m exhausted…
After waking early and staying active all day, drowsiness washed over me. Once a routine sets in, it’s hard to break. Perhaps that was why Guildmaster Jeong Hwan-jae had been so considerate.
With that thought—he really does know how to judge people—my consciousness flickered out like a blown fuse.
“…Ugh. What time is it?”
Living alone makes you talk to yourself. With no one else to hear, why not?
Outside, the sky was already dark. I reached for my phone.
[11:00]
Not too late, actually. Since I’d slept as soon as I came home, I’d gotten about as much rest as I normally would at night.
I lay under the blanket, watching pointless videos, letting time pass. Eventually, the creeping thought of responsibility returned. Normally, this would be the time to prepare for work tomorrow.
Guildmaster, I’ll call you at dawn!
That anxious line from earlier popped into my head, jolting me upright. Right—I’d promised him I’d call in the morning.
It wasn’t exactly dawn anymore, but if he was waiting, shouldn’t I contact him as soon as possible?
I scrambled through my bag, pulling out his now-creased business card. One by one, I punched in the number and saved it under:
[Boss]
Should I have written “Guildmaster” instead? Or maybe his name? In the end, “Boss” felt safest, sitting right in between.
But calling him suddenly at this hour might interrupt his work. Rankers could be summoned into a Gate at any moment. Not knowing their world well, I could only guess.
Better to text first.
So I typed:
Hello Guildmaster, this is Yeom Yea-ah, who joined today. Training has become available for me now, so I’m contacting you. I can stay up until dawn, so please reach out whenever convenient. And if you’re tired today, please feel free to say no. Thank you.
The moment I hit send, my heart began pounding wildly. It was just polite wording, but what if I sounded cluelessly pushy? Should I have asked earlier in the day? Should I have adjusted my schedule instead of being so shameless?
Before my spiraling thoughts consumed me, my phone lit up with an incoming call.
The caller ID: Boss.
“H-hello? I’m sorry, was it too sudden to contact you so late at night—”
“Where should I come to pick you up?”
