Jihoon's new boots echoed on the city's polished pavement, the recommendation paper crinkling in his jacket pocket as he walked between Seoyoon and Kwangsoo. The Hunter Bureau loomed ahead, a gray monolith of a building, its concrete facade stark against the glittering skyline. The city buzzed with life—sleek cars humming, vendors shouting about relic-infused gear, and posters of S-Rank hunters flexing on billboards. It was overwhelming, so different from the slums' cracked streets and flickering neon. Jihoon's heart raced, a mix of excitement and nerves. The paper from Kwangsoo's old guild buddies was his ticket to the hunter exams, a chance to be more than a slum kid with a weird power. But doubt gnawed at him. What if they saw through Seoyoon's hack? What if he wasn't enough?
Seoyoon nudged his arm, her tablet tucked under her jacket, her eyes glinting with her usual mischief. "Stop looking like you're about to puke, Ghost," she said, her voice light but sharp. "You've got this. That recommendation's legit, and you're not half bad with that hitbox trick."
Jihoon managed a grin, her nickname settling warmly in his chest. "Yeah, well, let's hope they don't check their system too closely," he said, lowering his voice. The memory of her hacking him into a B-Rank hunter made his stomach twist. It had gotten him free treatment, but it was illegal, and the Bureau wasn't a place to mess around.
Kwangsoo glanced back, his scarred face set in a scowl, his limp more pronounced on the city's smooth streets. "You two better not be talking about that stunt you pulled," he growled, his voice low but cutting. "Hacking the hunter database? Are you out of your damn mind, Seoyoon?"
She smirked, unfazed, brushing her short black hair from her eyes. "Relax, big guy. I wiped his B-Rank status the second we left the medical center. Jihoon's back to being a nobody in their system, clean as a whistle. No one's catching me." Her tone was cocky, but her eyes flicked to Jihoon, a silent promise she had his back.
Jihoon's shoulders eased, relief mixing with worry. "You sure it's gone?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet as they approached the Bureau's entrance. "If they find out, I'm done before I start."
Kwangsoo stopped, turning to face them, his eyes narrowing at Seoyoon. "You risked a lot for him, kid. Too much. If the Bureau sniffed that out, you'd be in a cell, not a hospital." His voice was gruff, but there was a flicker of something else—concern, maybe even respect. "Don't do it again."
Seoyoon shrugged, her grin defiant. "Worth it to get him here. Besides, their firewalls are a joke. I'm too good to get caught." She nudged Jihoon again, lighter this time. "Right, Ghost?"
Jihoon shook his head, a laugh slipping out despite his nerves. "You're gonna get us both in trouble one day." But her confidence was infectious, and Kwangsoo's concern made him feel oddly safe, like he had people who cared whether he made it or not.
The Bureau's doors slid open, revealing a cavernous lobby with high ceilings and flickering holo-screens displaying dungeon maps and hunter rankings. The air was cool, smelling of metal and disinfectant, a stark contrast to the city's warmth. Clerks bustled behind counters, and a few hopefuls—some in shiny gear, others as scrappy as Jihoon—waited in line, clutching papers or staring at the screens. Jihoon's hand tightened around the recommendation, his pulse quickening. This was real.
Kwangsoo led them to a counter where a clerk, a wiry man with glasses and a bored expression, looked up. "Name and business," he said, barely glancing at them.
"Park Jihoon," Jihoon said, sliding the recommendation across the counter. "Here to register for the hunter exams."
The clerk unfolded the paper, scanning the Iron Fang signatures with a raised eyebrow. "From the Iron Fang, huh? Not bad for a newbie." He typed something into his terminal, the screen glowing faintly. Jihoon held his breath, half-expecting an alarm to blare about Seoyoon's hack. But the clerk just nodded. "Checks out. You're cleared to take the exams. They run every other Tuesday, so you've got two weeks to prepare. Report back here by then, 8 AM sharp."
Jihoon exhaled, his knees weak with relief. "What's the exam like?" he asked, voice steadier than he felt.
The clerk leaned back, adjusting his glasses. "Three parts, kid. First, a physical test—strength, speed, endurance. Nothing fancy, just proves you won't collapse in a dungeon. Second, a skill application test. You show off your ability, whatever it is, and they judge its combat use. Yours is… Hitbox Control?" He squinted at the screen, frowning. "Never seen that one. Good luck."
Jihoon swallowed, his power feeling small under the clerk's gaze. Seoyoon gave him a subtle thumbs-up, her smirk saying she believed in him.
"Third part's the big one," the clerk continued. "A simulated dungeon quest or a duel, depends on the examiner's mood that day. Dungeon's got low-rank beasts—D-Rank, maybe E—controlled by the Bureau. Duel's you against another applicant, sometimes a proctor if they're feeling mean. Pass all three, you get a license. Fail, you wait six months to try again. Got it?"
Jihoon nodded, his mind racing. Physical tests he could handle, maybe. His hitbox control—focusing to avoid hits—might work for the skill test, but a dungeon or duel? He was green, barely able to use his power without losing focus. Still, the slums' kids, his mother's frail smile, pushed him forward. "Got it," he said, voice firm.
The clerk handed him a stamped form, the official exam entry. "Don't lose this. And don't be late. Next!"
Kwangsoo clapped Jihoon's shoulder, his grip strong despite his limp. "You did good, kid. Just don't screw it up in two weeks." His scowl twitched, almost a smile, and Jihoon grinned back, the form heavy in his hand.
Seoyoon leaned in, her voice low. "Told you, Ghost. You're one step closer to being a legend." Her eyes sparkled, and Jihoon felt a warmth in his chest, her faith in him stronger than his own.
They stepped back into the city, the afternoon sun casting long shadows. The streets hummed with energy, vendors shouting, a kid on a hoverboard zipping by. Jihoon's new jacket felt like a shield, but the Bureau's weight lingered. Two weeks to prepare for tests that could make or break him. His thoughts drifted to his mother, safe with medicine thanks to Seoyoon, and the slums' broken alleys. He had to pass, for them.
Kwangsoo stopped, fishing a worn card from his pocket. It was scuffed, with a faded logo—a fist gripping a blade—and an address. "Training facility," he said, handing it to Jihoon. "Not fancy, but it's got what you need. Sparring rings, dummy beasts, gear to practice your dodging. My old crew still uses it. Show 'em this, and they'll let you in, no questions. Start today if you're serious."
Jihoon took the card, his fingers tracing the logo. "Today?" he asked, glancing at Seoyoon. He'd planned to visit his mother, check on her, but the exams loomed, and every day counted.
Seoyoon nodded, her grin softening. "Go for it, Jihoon. Your mom's fine, I checked this morning. I'll swing by again later, make sure she's got everything." She paused, her voice quieter. "I've got some stuff to handle—contacts to bug, deals to make. You and Kwangsoo do your hunter thing."
Kwangsoo grunted, his eyes on Jihoon. "You good with that, kid? Training first, then home?"
Jihoon hesitated, picturing his mother's smile, but the card in his hand felt like a promise. He had to get stronger, for her, for the slums. "Yeah," he said, slipping the card into his pocket. "I'll head there now. Thanks, Kwangsoo. And Seoyoon…" He met her eyes, his voice thick. "You're too good to me."
She laughed, punching his arm lightly. "Don't get all mushy, Ghost. Just don't flunk the exams." She turned, waving over her shoulder. "Catch you later, big guy," she called to Kwangsoo, who shook his head, muttering about kids these days.
Kwangsoo clapped Jihoon's shoulder again, his limp slowing his stride as they parted ways with Seoyoon. "Let's move," he said, nodding toward the city's edge. "That place isn't far. You've got work to do."
Jihoon followed, the training card a weight in his pocket, the Bureau's form heavier in his hand. The city pulsed around him, alive with possibility, but the slums' shadow lingered in his mind. Two weeks to become a hunter, to prove he wasn't just a kid with a weird power. A distant siren wailed, a faint echo of the dungeon break, but Jihoon's eyes were on the road ahead, toward a future he could almost see.