Cherreads

Chapter 2 - Chapter: 2

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Translator: Ryuma

Chapter: 2

Chapter Title: Episode 2

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Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Yawn..."

A fluffy pillow, soft blankets, sunlight pouring in...

I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept so peacefully.

Strange.

After resolving to end it all, my mind felt strangely at ease.

I washed up quickly and headed to the cafeteria.

Official Hunters get all sorts of perks, but as an aspirant for now, communal living it is.

It was early still, so the place wasn't crowded.

A few others besides me, that's all.

Everyone's faces were grim.

No surprise there.

Back in the early days, maybe, but these days nobody signs up to be a climber aspirant willingly.

News stories pop up all the time about how most are family breadwinners saddled with crushing debt.

Sure, a few pull off the rags-to-riches Hunter success story, but they're the exceptions.

'Life reversal? Please.'

Just coast comfortably till the end.

I loaded my tray high with rice, soup, and sides.

Mmm, nothing beats real steamed rice over instant!

Ooh, these braised potatoes are killer!!

Whoa, bulgogi for breakfast?!

While others poked sullenly at their trays, I alone whistled through mine, lalala.

"Kid, you eat like a champ. Good to see~."

"Thank you! It's all so tasty!"

I went back for seconds. What luxury!

They say even hungry ghosts look healthy if they ate well before dying, so I'll feast till the end.

Chased it with a solid cup of sikhye and a fruit punch for dessert.

Then, finally, off to training.

I tensed a bit, half-expecting tire-around-the-waist hell runs.

Luckily, nothing like that.

Mornings were theory lessons.

Studying Tutorial types and their gimmicks.

"Tch, damn. What kinda frozen hell is this education?"

"Gonna die anyway. Why bother memorizing crap?"

Someone grumbled, but I had zero complaints.

Maybe 'cause I'd been into this stuff since I was a kid?

And I wasn't dumb, either.

I could've studied; just no money for college.

Unlike the others, I hung on every word from the Training Instructor.

Dug into the materials, took furious notes.

With only me actually engaging, it was basically one-on-one tutoring.

Wonder if real private lessons feel like this.

"Twenty-four confirmed Tutorial types so far."

The instructor clicked the remote, and the screen switched to a list of twenty-four Tower Tutorials.

"Highest entry rate? Extermination War."

Extermination War.

Clear out every monster that spawns within the time limit.

Not just highest—nearly 70% end up in one.

Lots enter, so lots survive.

Most Hunters come out of Extermination Wars.

Your entry Trait skews heavily combat-oriented, too.

Land a combat Trait in Extermination War? Survival odds skyrocket.

No wonder the instructor spent the most time on Extermination intel.

Others included Defense War, Adaptation War, Pursuit War.

Defense War: hold your base, plain and simple.

Adaptation War: survive a shifting environment.

Pursuit War: high-level monsters spawn, but you just need to outlast the timer—no kills required.

Extermination had ten variants.

Defense, Adaptation, Pursuit: four each.

Survival War: two.

"No telling which you'll get, so memorize 'em all. It'll help."

I nodded eagerly at the instructor's serious tone.

Combat Trait in Extermination, defense in Defense, stealth in Pursuit—something fitting boosts your odds.

But which Tutorial, which Trait...

'...All down to luck.'

So all I could do was study hard.

Thanks to my questions at the end, the instructor gave me extra pointers.

Goblins: aim for the head.

Harpies show: head for water.

Pocketed those tips.

Lunchtime rolled around.

Menu: galbitang.

'Gotta do two bowls.'

The cook must've clocked my double breakfast, 'cause she piled on the ribs.

Rich, fatty meat in deep broth. Glossy steamed rice on top.

Belly full and warm. Solid.

Ate big at breakfast, studied some, and still starving.

Polished off one bowl and hopped up for more.

"Eats like a pig."

Someone muttered loud enough to hear.

"Off to die soon. Food even go down?"

I turned. Guy who'd sat next to me in class.

Come to think, he'd looked pissy then too.

Saw me as some cocky fellow sufferer?

"Gotta eat sometime."

"..."

"Ghosts who eat well before dying look the best, they say."

"Ugh, ruined my appetite."

He slammed his spoon down, abandoned his half-eaten galbitang, and bailed.

Tsk tsk. Leaving food behind.

Doesn't know the value of a meal.

I shook my head and lined up for seconds.

"Love a good eater! Have more, more!"

"Thanks~!"

Piled high again with ribs.

Back to my seat, demolished the steaming bowl.

Leave food this good? He'll regret it for sure.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

"Huff... huff... huff..."

"Goddamn! Can't run anymore!"

"Let me out!"

Basic stamina training kicked off, and quitters poured out immediately.

"Urk... bluuuugh!!"

"Blaaaargh!!!"

Chaos.

Vomiting echoed everywhere.

Most slumped on the floor, melting down.

I was holding up pretty well.

Of course.

No smoking, barely any booze.

My hobby? Walking and running.

Since kid, whenever my head got messy, I'd run.

Till no thoughts left.

Till I couldn't breathe.

Always cleared my mind.

No-cost hobby. No downside.

Who knew that habit would pay off here.

Goal training amount achieved.

The monitor pinged just as the machine ground to a halt.

"Huuuuh!"

I caught my breath and stepped off.

Wiping sweat, glanced around. Looked like I was the only one who'd hit the goal.

'That's why you eat a hearty lunch.'

Tsk tsk tsk. Chugged the prepped ion drink.

Way better than tap water days.

Strange again.

Death set in stone, and everything feels nicer.

Couldn't help a chuckle. Tossed the empty and left the gym.

Basic stamina wasn't the end.

Short break, then combat training.

Mandatory: barehand fighting and swordsmanship.

Barehand for when no weapons.

Swords most common in Babel Tower, so that too.

Optionals like archery, staff, spear—no takers.

Not me either.

Swords common, sure.

But getting one in Tutorial? Pure luck.

So I'd focus on barehand.

Bump survival odds even unarmed.

"This is kids' stuff."

Some guy toyed with a blunt training sword, snickering.

"Handled knives before, y'know."

"Ooooh, big bro!!"

"Livin' things? Just poke the vitals. Tap. Tap. Tap."

A hulking scarface swung the training sword.

His posse went "big bro!" and clapped.

Strutting like a scary badass...

But despite the hints, no way he's a killer.

Babel Tower Climber Management Bureau doesn't take heavy criminals.

Imagine a psycho death row nut turning Hunter powerhouse.

Not lucky for anyone.

No predicting the rampage.

State'd be hugging a ticking bomb.

Hence, debts and misdemeanors only.

Bottom line: dude's bluffing.

"Vitals are, like..."

Whoosh. Big swing, then jams the tip at me.

Right under the chin.

Blunt end hovering at my throat.

No edge, so bruise at worst.

"This here's the vital spot!"

He bellowed; the ragtag crew went "whoaaa!"

What is this, gorilla troupe?

"Scared now?"

"Yep. Totally spooked."

I flashed a small smile and nodded.

Had to laugh...

This clown barely ran in basic stamina before puking.

"Watch yourself, punk. Tower ain't a game."

"Got it!"

I answered straight; he scowled instead.

Thinks I'm mocking him?

"You little..."

He hissed, rearing the sword high again.

"What the hell are you doing?"

A low, icy voice cut in.

The Combat Instructor.

"Here to mess around?"

Instructors had been edgy since basic. Time to crack down.

"N-no, sir!"

Scarface dropped the sword fast.

"Say it again. What's a vital?"

"Uh, I didn't..."

Instructor snatched the dropped sword in a blur—faster than scarface could dream—and leveled it under his chin.

Instructors aren't Hunters.

But elite-trained pros.

Way beyond normal folk.

"Can't even run basics, yapping about vitals."

"Guh..."

"You'd die before swinging that right."

Quiet voice, but I was close enough to catch every word.

Scarface went sheet-white in real time.

"Only aspirant who completed basic stamina: Lee Tae-pyeong."

"..."

"Everyone else, back to basic stamina room."

Gripes erupted, but Combat Instructor was firm.

In the end, vast training hall: just me.

Unplanned private lesson.

Barehand techniques, swordplay.

Monster vitals, how to hit 'em.

Training brutal compared to basics; by end, I was collapsing.

'Still better...'

No thoughts creeping in.

No worries, no sadness, no rage.

Might even be good.

I threw myself into it like a maniac.

Eat, study, train, sleep.

That was it. Everything.

Three months flew by.

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