I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, the registration button showed up in my head again.
"…Dumbass."
Morning sunlight slipped through the apartment window while I stared at the ceiling.
Too late to regret it now.
My phone buzzed from beside the bed.
[Hunter Association Notice]
[Your registration request has been accepted.]
[Please report to Eastern District Branch before 10:00 AM for aptitude evaluation and hunter classification.]
Right.
This was real now.
I sat up slowly and rubbed my face.
For a second, I almost opened the registration page again to see if there was a cancel option.
There wasn't.
Probably intentional.
The apartment was quiet except for the heater making its usual dying noises.
I glanced toward Dad's room.
The door was closed.
Good.
At least he was sleeping.
I grabbed my jacket from the chair and checked my wallet before freezing for a second.
"…Seriously?"
Three bills.
And some coins.
Amazing.
I looked toward the cheap steel sword leaning beside the wall.
Old game habit.
Back when the Tower was still virtual, I used swords most of the time.
Not because I was good with them.
I just liked them more than spears.
Very strategic decision-making.
The sword looked terrible.
Cheap handle.
Scratched blade.
Barely maintained.
Honestly, it matched me pretty well.
By the time I reached the Hunter Association building, the streets were already crowded.
Hunters walked in and out constantly while digital screens displayed raid schedules overhead.
Some wore expensive combat gear covered in glowing mana lines.
Others looked barely older than high school students.
Late starters, probably.
Or desperate people.
Same difference.
The Association building itself looked more like a corporate headquarters than anything else.
Tall glass walls.
Security drones floating near the entrance.
Armed guards standing outside casually like that was normal.
Maybe it was normal now.
I stood near the entrance for a few seconds.
People walked past me without stopping.
Most carried proper equipment.
Armor.
Magic tools.
Guild uniforms.
Meanwhile, I was standing there with a cheap sword and almost empty pockets.
One of the guards glanced at me briefly before looking away again.
Yeah.
Even he looked disappointed.
I stepped inside.
The lobby was massive.
Large holographic screens floated above the reception area showing hunter rankings and active gate alerts across the country.
A giant board on the wall displayed recent deaths.
I stopped walking for a second.
The number updated quietly.
+3
Nobody around me reacted.
That was somehow worse.
"Next."
I looked toward the reception desk and walked over.
The woman sitting behind the counter barely looked up from her screen. "Registration ID."
I handed my phone over silently.
Her eyes scanned the screen quickly before pausing.
"…New hunter applicant?"
"Unfortunately."
That got the faintest reaction out of her.
Not quite a smile.
Close enough.
"Room twelve. Aptitude evaluation first."
She handed the phone back before stopping suddenly.
Her eyes moved toward the sword at my waist.
"…That your weapon?"
"Trying not to sound rude?"
"Trying and failing."
I looked down at the sword.
"…It works."
"Sure."
She typed something onto the screen before speaking again.
"You'd be surprised how many people walk in here after watching raid clips online. Last week some idiot brought a kitchen knife."
"…Please tell me he failed."
"He cried during the mana pressure test."
Fair enough.
Room twelve turned out to be larger than I expected.
Several people were already inside waiting.
Some looked nervous.
Others excited.
One guy near the wall flexed every thirty seconds like he was preparing for a bodybuilding competition instead of the Tower.
A staff member walked out carrying a tablet.
"Name."
"Ray."
"Follow me."
The testing room beyond looked almost medical.
Machines lined the walls while glowing circles covered the floor near the center.
The staff member pointed toward one of the chairs. "Sit."
I sat quietly while another worker attached metal bands around my wrists.
The monitor beside me flickered to life.
"Mana output first," the worker muttered.
A few seconds passed.
Then his eyebrows lifted slightly.
"Hm."
The second worker leaned over. "What?"
"Higher than expected."
I stared at them.
"…That sounds vaguely insulting."
"It is."
Good to know.
More numbers appeared across the screen.
Mana.
Reaction speed.
Mental processing.
Most of them kept climbing higher than I expected.
The workers exchanged another look.
Then came strength testing.
The numbers dropped immediately.
"…Yeah," I muttered. "That sounds more accurate."
One of the workers snorted quietly.
After another twenty minutes, they handed me a black card with a silver C printed across the surface.
I stared at it.
"C-rank?"
The worker nodded. "Overall classification."
"…That sounds kind of high."
"You scored unusually well in several categories."
"Then why does it feel like you're about to warn me about something?"
"Because people with uneven stats either become very dangerous or die quickly."
Ah.
Comforting.
I slipped the card into my pocket while following the worker back toward the main hall.
"So what now?"
"You'll receive beginner orientation."
"That sounds awful already."
"It usually is."
The orientation room was packed.
A woman wearing Association uniform stood near the front while a holographic display floated behind her.
"Hunter rankings are divided from F-rank to S-rank," she said flatly, like she'd repeated the sentence thousands of times already.
"Most of you will remain in lower ranks permanently. Accept that now and your lives become easier."
Encouraging speech.
A few nervous laughs spread through the room.
The holographic display changed.
"Hunters may enter gates independently or through registered teams and guilds. Independent hunters receive larger shares of rewards."
Several people immediately looked interested.
The woman continued before anyone could speak.
"However, independent hunters must personally pay gate entry fees and are prohibited from entering higher-ranked gates beyond their classification."
Right.
There it was.
Nothing came free.
"Beginner hunters will also be temporarily supervised by Association monitoring teams during initial gate entries."
A guy near the back frowned. "Supervised?"
"Yes," the woman replied without emotion. "Because sending inexperienced hunters into gates alone creates paperwork when you die."
The room went silent.
"…Damn," someone muttered quietly.
The woman ignored him completely.
"Your assigned teams will evaluate survival capability, combat awareness, and basic adaptability."
That sounded suspiciously like:
Can you survive without getting everyone killed?
Wonderful.
After orientation ended, everyone received temporary assignments.
I stared at mine for a second.
[Monitoring Team 3]
A few minutes later, I found the group waiting near the lower exit area.
Three people.
A tall spear user.
A woman carrying dual daggers.
And a large shield user built like a truck.
All three looked toward me at the same time.
Then their eyes dropped toward my cheap sword.
The silence lasted about two seconds too long.
Finally, the spear user spoke.
"…Please tell me that's not your actual weapon."
I looked down at the sword.
"…You know, people keep reacting to it like it insulted their family."
The spear user looked like he wanted to say something else before a loud alarm suddenly echoed through the lower floor.
Everyone nearby froze.
A red warning light flashed across the hallway.
[EMERGENCY GATE ACTIVITY DETECTED]
[UNSTABLE LOW-RANK GATE — BASEMENT TRAINING AREA]
Several Association workers immediately started moving.
"Damn it," someone cursed nearby.
The dagger user beside me frowned. "An unstable gate? Here?"
The large shield user grabbed his weapon instantly. "Thought today was supposed to be evaluations only."
More alarms rang out.
Then screaming followed.
Not from far away.
Close.
Very close.
The spear user's expression changed immediately.
"Everyone moving with me," he said sharply.
His eyes landed on me for a second.
"…Congratulations, rookie."
Another scream echoed through the hallway.
"Looks like your first gate just opened early."