"How did you forget?" A voice said cleanly in his head.
His mother's voice. Kang Yoo's emails. The HR probation. All of them, wrapped in one shape, rising hammer.
The clusters in his body came together, sealing him into a compact shield. A little rough, non-uniform.
Seungho wanted to run. Wanted to dodge.
He could no longer pivot.
In a blink the figure was over Seungho, holding the hammer with both hands up high. Seungho looked up at the hammer right above him.
His body held him in place. Trapped.
He closed his eyes, and prayed.
It struck him down, full force.
In that moment, he existed as nothing but pressure. Compressed, flattened, held inside his own skin.
The scales on his body had come together sealing his body into a compact shield.
Then the hammer shattered like glass. The caped figure disappeared.
Seungho stood there, curled. Still waiting for the pain that didn't come.
He heard nothing.
He waited a little longer. Then opened his eyes.
His body was unscathed.
He touched his ribs. The pain was already fading—no, not fading. Gone. Like it had never been there at all.
He looked at his clean hands.
I should be broken. I should be bleeding.
They glowed with the opponent's mana, absorbed by his shield. It evaporated from the hard surface. The shield split and retreated into clusters and into cells.
His skin was soft to the touch.
He didn't know if that thought was relief or fear.
The place returned to being pitch black.
That was wild!
A deep and strong emotion rose up inside him. He had just witnessed his own power in action.
He gasped in awe.
As his magic light dimmed and completely disappeared, a text appeared where the blurred spot in his vision had been. A screen. Bright.
[ OPPONENT 1: DARK FIGURE. RESOLVED. | REWARD: CONTROL OF FOCUS. ]
[ OPPONENT 2: BLACK ANGEL. RESOLVED. | REWARD: DEFENSE SYSTEM ON. ]
[ OPPONENT 3: CAPE HAMMER. RESOLVED. | REWARD: CONTROL OF HARDENING. ]
[ INITIATION SEQUENCE: 100% COMPLETE. ]
[ HEALING CAPACITY ACTIVATED. ]
[ DIFFICULTY: -- | REGRET: -- ]
Well, aren't you late?
Seungho snorted.
Hmmm...
"Difficulty...explain?"
Bong.
"tell me difficulty value, please"
Bong.
It won't tell me...
He glanced at the "Regret" category.
No point in asking about that, I guess.
Then the text flattened into a line, crammed into a point, and disappeared. Like the old cathode TV screen did when he used to turn it off at his grandparents.
He stared at it. Waiting.
No strength score. No agility. No list of weapons to unlock.
What kind of system is this?
Other hunters talked about their stats like baseball cards—power levels, speed ratings, special abilities with cooldowns.
His system gave him... reports.
He snorted. Of course. Even his powers were dysfunctional.
A moment later, a door opened in front of him, bright light and voices of people talking flooding in.
He walked out. His test was over.
Once out, his first instinct was to go and sit down. He realized he wasn't tired. Yet he had received a shock to his system, he had to figure out what had just happened and how he felt about it.
He saw an empty bench, more like a slab, and headed over there.
The other side of the test room was a very different place from the lobby where he had been waiting. As expected, the lobby represented the face of the company. In the back, things were taken a notch down. Smoother, the style was more congenial to a corporation.
What is all this "medievalist" keenness about?
Passing by, loud voices of relief caught Seungho's attention.
"Hahaha, I finished the test in twenty minutes!" boasted a tall man with large shoulders, no jacket and his pants ripped.
Seungho's clothing was pristine.
Seungho glanced at the man again with curiosity. His body had no signs of a fight. He looked strong, especially surrounded by a bunch of other hunter-candidates. Some of them were visibly hurt, already patched up, but not in pain.
"Too bad my suit is trash now," he said loudly with pride, like it was testament to just how fiercely he had fought.
Seungho felt shame about his clothing. About what they proved: his lack of fighting.
"Is that a good or a bad sign?" someone asked the man.
Seungho looked down at his hands. Not a scratch, not a bruise, not even dirt. He should be glad, but couldn't celebrate.
The man with the ripped pants was surrounded now—other candidates clapping his shoulder, asking questions, treating him like he'd earned something.
No one looked at Seungho.
He unzipped his hoodie and shook it, to look untidy. Still too clean.
"Twenty minutes, ha?" Seungho looked at the clock on the wall, he had been in there over two hours. He wasn't exhausted.
To him it felt like he had been inside the room with those things far longer. With the stress gone, nothing seemed that bad, he could have been in control, who knows even won if he hadn't given in to fear so early into the confrontation.
Still, it took him three monsters to finish the test.
His eyes started wondering the room looking for Sangmin, but he was nowhere to be seen. Probably Sangmin had already finished the test long before he did. Maybe he had already gone home.
or had already moved on to the discussion of performance that came after.
Aside from Sangmin, Seungho didn't recognized any of the faces.
So, they had all moved on already.
By all, he meant those who in the lobby had been cheering the Duke earlier.
Oh, the Duke, right. He...she already hates me.
Great I have just arrived and I am already caught in the line of fire.
The brainfog returned for a moment. Thick. Familiar. Like an old friend he'd hoped never to see again.
But something pushed it away, like an antidote dissolves poison.
He threw his head back and laughed with relief.
Old me would have just given in to anxiety. But this is nice. I feel calm.
All the same, according to his calculations, the number of candidates present was decidedly smaller than the initial pool in the lobby. Taking into account the waves of incoming candidates, those with appointment at different times. If those present were any indication of what Entre was looking for, only a minor portion would be offered a job by the end of the hiring process. A much smaller percentage of what he was used to.
What is Entre after?
I was up against a dark silhouette, an angel and a caped figure, in incognito. Why those exactly?
I barely got alive... How could I possibly be special?
Another far more worrying thought dawned on him.
I didn't defeat any of the opponents.
The thought landed like a second hammer.
Wait!
He gasped.
Have I failed?
"Yang Seungho?"
"Ehm, yes?"
Seungho was sweating. His eyes stained with worry.
"Are you alright?" asked a member of staff.
"Yes…"
"It must be the adrenaline coming down, after the spike. Don't worry. It will get better soon."
"Ah, thank you." Seungho replied with softness.
It was true, it was calming down. His thoughts slowed, a fuzzy feeling inside.
I guess adrenaline is not part of the healing.What about the crush?
Not there. He recomposed himself.
She smiled. "you are welcome. Let me take you to your interview."
"Please have a seat."
Seungho sat at a table across from three interviewers. There was a screen to the side, which showed stats columns labeled with letters with no numbers in it. A cursor blinking in the first column. Possibly awaiting display for his performance during the test.
Seungho wanted to ask what those measured. But job interviews were not the place for asking questions, just answering them.
He threw a quick glance again. He better not look or his anxiety would take control.
He felt suddenly naked.
I have been watched all this time, throughout the test.
And what if they show footage now?!?
He flushed. His worst moments, him crying, flashed in his mind like a movie. How was he going to explain those?
Ok, Seungho this is no time for this. Be practical. Focus on the interview.
He used the same directives from his first round of interviews when he was out of college looking for a job. He focused on the interviewers.
Of the three interviewers, the one in the middle was leading the interview. He wore a light cream suit, which Seungho thought was an odd choice.
The person to the right was wearing a more expensive suit, dark with clean lines, surely from a fashion house, indicating he was the boss. Perhaps a retired hunter?
The third interviewer was wearing what seemed a hunting outfit, knight-themed. His face looked familiar, perhaps someone who had accompanied the Duke in the lobby. Seungho hadn't paid enough attention to remember with precision.
Now he knew he should have.
The knight looked to the side as if bored.
Rude. How much does his opinion count?
"Let's begin," said the interview leader without introducing himself. He grabbed the pen to his digital tablet ready to take notes. He zoomed in the chart. Numbers displayed.