Chapter 28
“Can’t I be the one to spar with you?”
“No. If I fight someone I’m close to, there’s a risk I’ll hold back.”
It looked like he’d be late for his appointment with Sui.
The moment he texted her saying, “I’m stuck at the Association,” she showed up almost immediately.
‘So my opponent’s the woman who had her hand on her sword earlier, huh?’
He glanced toward the other side of the training arena.
The female Association staffer who had come to his house earlier was stretching her muscles with sharp, practiced movements.
‘A one-handed sword—same style as me.’
They must’ve chosen her specifically to test his real ability.
From what he’d overheard, she held a B-rank Hunter’s license.
“Alright, it’s about to start. Get up there.”
“Don’t overdo it.”
“If I don’t, they’ll keep me here forever.”
“…Then just use enough to win.”
It was a difficult request—win, but don’t go too far.
He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly.
“You sound like you’re assuming I’ll win.”
“Yeah. Because you will.”
“How do you know that?”
It wasn’t anxiety that made him ask—just pure curiosity.
Even if he was talented, could anyone really say for sure that he’d beat a B-rank Hunter?
Without even glancing at the opponent, Sui replied, calm and sure:
“Because I’m stronger than her.”
And since she’d already lost to him, there was no way he’d lose to someone weaker than her.
It was such a simple logic—but it still left Ju-hyuk puzzled.
‘If I keep digging into that, I’ll just get lost in thought.’
This wasn’t the time for a long conversation anyway.
“Alright. Go on, get up there.”
“Don’t get hurt.”
A warm remark, delivered in a cold voice.
Sui trotted off, stepping through the exit door of the sparring arena.
Now, only two people remained inside—the female staffer and Ju-hyuk.
“…”
“…”
Silence filled the space.
Ju-hyuk wondered, not for the first time, if the woman simply wasn’t good at talking to people.
He’d never seen her initiate a conversation, and whenever their eyes met, she’d quickly turn away.
‘Is she waiting for me to warm up or something?’
He was already fully stretched out while chatting with Sui earlier.
She must’ve seen that, so that probably wasn’t the reason.
“When do we start?”
“Oh! Um, right, that’s…”
She hesitated, glancing nervously up toward the glass window above, where the observers stood.
“Should we… start now?”
“Can they even hear you from up there?”
“Ah, not really. But I thought they might read my lips.”
She took a deep breath—like a child forcing herself to eat her least favorite vegetables.
“Okay… okay, let’s do this.”
As if hypnotizing herself, she raised her wooden sword.
“Please don’t look at me weirdly…”
“Huh?”
Before he could respond, she brought the wooden sword down on her own foot.
Ju-hyuk’s eyes widened.
‘What the hell is she doing?’
Before the sparring even started, she had struck herself with full force—yet her expression didn’t change at all.
Instead, as soon as the sword hit, her posture dropped low, her body crouched like a predator.
“Start… start…”
She muttered in a chilling voice.
Something eerie rode along her words—an aura that made the hairs on his neck rise.
Danger.
Ju-hyuk had seen this before.
‘A skill activation condition?’
Some monsters, especially certain puppets, did that—injuring themselves before entering a berserk state.
When they did, they moved nothing like before.
And just like that, she spoke again—this time in a flat, emotionless tone:
“Starting now.”
Her eyes were glazed, her voice stripped of politeness.
‘She really changed in an instant.’
“Someone weaker than me wouldn’t stand a chance…” Sui’s words flashed through his mind.
Whether she still believed that or not didn’t matter.
What mattered was the present—the duel.
“Come on, then.”
He raised his sword.
“Do we really need to make them duel like this?”
“It’s necessary. The Hunter Management Department’s top priority is accurate combat assessment.”
Up in the observation room, Sui’s seat now empty, Yena and the male Association staffer watched through the glass.
Yena sighed—it all seemed like such a hassle—but if the Association said it was important, she wouldn’t argue.
“So, what rank do you think Ju-hyuk actually is?”
“…Hard to say.”
The man rubbed his chin as he watched the scene below—the female staffer attacking relentlessly, Ju-hyuk barely managing to block.
“Judging from that video, Hunter Ju-hyuk’s far stronger than any F-rank I’ve seen.”
That much was obvious.
To take down a B-rank boss alone—it was already enough to break the scale.
“He was using some pretty high-end gear, too.”
The equipment shown in the video—everything he wore was from Hansan’s master craftsman line, not a single cheap piece among them.
“His skill plays a part, sure. But it’s fair to say his gear helped a lot.”
A monster slain with the aid of luxury weapons.
Still, his precision—striking through the eye into the brain—was nothing short of surgical.
All things considered, the man concluded:
“He’s probably around C-rank to B-rank.”
His mana was just too low.
With a higher mana capacity, Ju-hyuk might have been a once-in-a-millennium prodigy.
But as it stood, his natural limits capped him.
“See? He’s struggling right now against one of our A-rank staffers.”
“…A-rank?”
Yena blinked. That was higher than she expected.
She stayed silent for a while, then quietly asked, still watching Ju-hyuk below:
“So it’s because of his low mana, huh?”
“Exactly. That’s the problem.”
He didn’t even need to say it; she already understood.
“If his mana were higher, his rank would be too?”
“Definitely. He’d be at least S-rank—without question.”
“….”
At least S-rank.
Anyone else might’ve felt sorry for him hearing that.
A man who trained day after day, still bound by a number he couldn’t change.
If fate had been a little kinder…
If the gods had shown even a little interest…
Maybe things would’ve been different.
But Yena shook her head.
“Actually, I don’t think that’s true.”
The staffer looked puzzled.
“If Ju-hyuk had been born with high mana, would he have trained this hard?”
So many promising Hunters fell to arrogance.
They grew complacent, got reckless, or simply lost their edge.
Would Ju-hyuk have become who he is if he’d had an easy start?
Would he have learned to stand up after countless defeats?
“Ju-hyuk might call it nonsense if he heard me, but I think he became this strong because he’s F-rank.”
“…That’s not entirely wrong.”
“Even if he loses today, it’ll just make him stronger.”
She knew.
He’d once taken on a mutant orc and come out barely alive.
And yet, not long after, he was soloing D-rank dungeons—then slaying a Frogging on his own.
His growth was explosive, unbelievable.
He hadn’t reawakened, but he’d become undeniably powerful.
‘Sometimes he disappears for weeks, and when he returns, he’s completely different…’
She’d once tried asking what kind of training he did during those absences.
But he’d never said a word.
“Anyway,” Yena concluded, “even if he loses today, he’ll end up far stronger than any C or B-rank.”
“…Understood.”
The staffer nodded silently.
He’d studied Ju-hyuk’s entire record. He knew she was right.
“This is going to be a headache. If he keeps getting stronger, the entire Hunter classification system might break.”
Even an F-rank killing a Frogging was already enough of a scandal.
If he continued to grow, the ripple effect would be catastrophic.
The staffer frowned—until a quiet voice interrupted.
“He won’t lose.”
They both turned.
It was Sui, who had returned without them noticing.
“Ju-hyuk’s going to win.”
The man looked back at her, then at the fight below.
“…I doubt it. Just look at him.”
The woman below was in full berserker mode, swinging wildly, pushing Ju-hyuk to the brink.
He barely managed to block, his defense nearly crumbling.
Surely he couldn’t turn this around.
‘Underdog comebacks happen, but this seems impossible.’
He hadn’t landed a single hit yet.
Soon, he’d be too exhausted to continue.
Or so the staffer thought—until Sui spoke again.
“Left, right, right, left.”
Her eyes tracked every motion, whispering directions in perfect rhythm with the battle.
“Right, right, right, left, right.”
Her pupils darted back and forth.
She was utterly immersed—lost in the fight, reading every movement, every shift of weight.
Then, suddenly—
“Now.”
She said it before either fighter even moved.
Her right hand lifted slightly, mimicking the grip of a sword.
And below, Ju-hyuk mirrored her perfectly, twisting his blade to meet the incoming strike.
Clang!
A flawless parry.
The woman’s attack was completely deflected, her balance broken.
Ju-hyuk had seen this opening thousands of times before—trained endlessly against foes far stronger than himself.
He used her own strength against her, turning her momentum to his advantage.
The moment her guard wavered, he moved in.
“Yeah… that’s it.”
Sui smiled faintly.
Ju-hyuk’s blade stopped just short of the woman’s throat.
The duel was over.
She turned toward the stunned officials and said, softly but firmly:
“I told you. Ju-hyuk would win.”
The staffer couldn’t say a word.
He stood frozen, staring through the glass—at Ju-hyuk, bloodied but victorious, standing tall in the center of the arena.
