— Everyday Life in the Hunter's World
Seonwoo's eyes opened slowly, their lids feeling like rusted iron gates refusing to lift. Every morning was a small battle against the existential gravity that oppressed him. The pale light of dawn seeped through the gaps in the worn curtains of his cramped apartment, dancing across the concrete floor that always felt damp and cold, even in the height of summer. Shadows stretched in the corners of the room, as if hiding his nightly failures. He sighed, the sound of his sigh loud in the silence of a room filled only with a weathered wooden table and a thin mattress that had lost its ability to comfort. Outside, the fictional city of Injeong began to murmur. The near-silent sounds of electric vehicles, the shouts of morning market vendors, and the clanging of metal from early-morning workshops merged into an urban symphony that felt strangely distant to Seonwoo. The city lived, breathed, and moved forward, while he was stuck in stagnation. He stared at his own hands—thin frames wrapped in pale skin, blue veins clearly visible on his wrists, fingers trembling for no apparent reason. His hands felt like they weren't his own, but rather tools that failed to fulfill their purpose, a traitor that constantly reminded him of his inadequacy. "Is this me?" he whispered softly, his voice hoarse and broken. "A body that always fails, carrying a Job that thousands of Hunters around me look down on." His Job, [Basic Wound Healer], was a joke in a world that glorified offensive power and superhuman defensive abilities. Who needed a healer who needed ten minutes to close a centimeter-deep cut? The world around Seonwoo was a canvas of stark contradictions. From the window of his fourth-floor apartment, he could witness two contrasting realities. In the central district, the ruins of the old Gate lay scattered like giant, discarded toys. The iron-reinforced concrete remains were a lasting monument to the power and danger that always lurked. Some of the ruins even radiated residual energy that made the hairs on one's arms stand on end if one got too close. Meanwhile, the morning light reflected perfectly off the glass and chrome facades of the skyscrapers where the elite Hunters resided. The buildings were like swords thrust into the heart of the city, symbols of splendor and power. Every Hunter who passed through the streets below, in their gleaming armor and custom-made weapons, affirmed Seonwoo's position as a shadow—a ghost wandering in broad daylight. They were the architects of destiny, men who held the fate of thousands of lives at their fingertips. As for Seonwoo? He was just an ordinary young man with ordinary ambitions, walking among the gods with his pitifully human strength. As he stepped out into the city alley, the smell immediately hit him—a mixture of burning metal and the lingering magical energy of the Gate that had opened yesterday. The air felt heavy and charged, making every breath feel like inhaling lightning wrapped in mist. Seonwoo took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart, which pounded like a war drum within his ribcage. From his perspective, the gnawing fear wasn't merely physical. It wasn't pain or injury he feared, but the inability to prove his worth, that he had a reason to be among these heroes. He knew, deep down, that today would be like every other day: a series of small tests from a cruel world for weak Job holders. Every look, every sigh, every small smile would be a reminder of his place in an unwritten but steel-hard social hierarchy. Suddenly, a touch on his shoulder startled him. "Seonwoo, are you joining the South Gate mission?" Hyunsoo asked, his voice cheerful, as if he didn't understand the burden Seonwoo was carrying. Hyunsoo stood confidently, his high-quality leather armor contrasting with Seonwoo's plain jacket. "They say a new monster has appeared. It's quite troublesome, but the reward is enough to feed him for a week." Seonwoo frowned, his eyes staring at the cracked ground beneath his feet. "I... I'm weak. What's the point of me joining? I'll just be a burden," he muttered, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. From a third-person perspective, Hyunsoo stared at Seonwoo with a complex expression—a mix of cynicism and sympathy. On one hand, he was frustrated to see Seonwoo give up so easily, but on the other, he understood the heavy burden someone with a weak Job had to bear in a society that glorified strength. "Sometimes the weak can be surprising," Hyunsoo thought deeply, though he didn't dare say it out loud. "At least he's still trying, still showing up every morning, still standing here. That's more than most people can say." Seonwoo glanced around, his eyes catching the movements of the elite Hunters as they prepared. Among them was Rina, a female Hunter in silver-blue battle armor that hugged her figure perfectly. Her faint, barely perceptible smile signaled a constant evaluation of everything and everyone around her. "Seonwoo, don't die there," she sneered, her voice even but not entirely cold. The words should have sounded insulting, but Rina's eyes—two deep pools of turquoise—held a faint warmth, a concern hidden beneath her professional demeanor. Seonwoo returned a bitter smile; he had learned for too long that in their world, attention always came in the form of sarcasm, mockery, or intense scrutiny. Harsh on the outside, but maybe—just maybe—there was something deeper beneath. Approaching the South Gate, the air began to change. A blackish-purple energy began to ricochet around them, creating a visual distortion that made the surrounding landscape look like it was being seen through turbulent water. The temperature dropped dramatically, and the hairs on everyone's necks stood on end. Then the first monster A three-meter-tall figure appeared, its dark scales reflecting light in an unnatural way. Its eyes glowed red, two embers in the darkness. From Seonwoo's perspective, the fear clinging to him became almost physical—a cold, wet weight enveloping his entire being. From a third-person perspective, the monster moved with unnatural agility for its size, each step leaving a trail of Void energy that ate away at the ground beneath it. A dark aura radiated from its skin, making the air around it vibrate. The Hunters around him immediately prepared, taking up defensive formations with a precision that could only be achieved through years of training. Rina patted Seonwoo's shoulder, her touch softer than expected. "Remember, moving, even slowly, is better than not moving at all," she instructed curtly, her voice remaining calm amidst the ensuing chaos. Those words became an anchor for Seonwoo, something he could hold onto as the world around him crumbled. With trembling still gnawing at his muscles, he began to move forward, dodging the monster's attacks with small, careful steps. Every second felt like a year, every breath a struggle. This was a dance between life and death. and died, and Seonwoo realized he was just a rookie lost at the ball. From a third-person perspective, observing Seonwoo revealed something intriguing. Though his movements were stiff and fearful, there was a distinct, small determination in his eyes—a tiny flame that refused to go out. His survival instinct was strong, and a deep curiosity about how this monster worked, where it came from, and how to defeat it kept him standing instead of running. The fight ended in defeat—Seonwoo fell to the ground, his breath ragged, and fresh wounds plastered across his body. But beneath the pain and failure, something new had awakened: the courage to face his own fears, the recognition that even though he had fallen, at least he had tried to stand. On the longer-than-usual walk home, Seonwoo's perspective highlighted a deep internal reflection. The world was indeed unfriendly, each step felt like dancing on a tenuous tightrope. But that fear mixed with curiosity slowly began to ignite a spark of determination—a desire not only to survive, but to understand, and perhaps someday, to change. Meanwhile, from From a third perspective, the city still lives on with its own energy. The ruins of the Gate await repair, the other Hunters return to their usual activities, and the sun continues to move across the sky. This scene shows that even if a young man like Seonwoo fails, the world continues unconcerned. But perhaps, it is precisely in that indifference that there is room for growth—when no one is watching, even a small step can feel like a great victory.