TFN C3

Chapter 3

Leaning back deep into her chair, the woman gauged the smoothly flowing mood of the stream.

[-Then is there anything you’d want to trade with someone else?]

“Hm? Trade what?”

[-If you could swap skills with anyone, whose would you envy most?]

It was a question that often popped up when a mukbang wrapped and the stream shifted into a chat session.

She’d heard it about as often as “Please say my name, it’s my birthday.”

[-Obviously our Haetae Boss’s skill, right?]

At the nickname for the No. 1 hunter in the rankings, the woman burst into a big, involuntary laugh.

[-Wow, your personality. You’re laughing at that?]

“Ahahaha. Sorry! I’m really not mocking it. It’s just—I didn’t expect people to drag in a bait that’s not only cold but moldy from rot on Hunternet of all places, so I was thrown. C’mon, how am I bullying a newbie again?”

In truth, it wasn’t just her; the chat was also erupting in laughter.

[-You don’t know Haetae Boss? Then what? Don’t keep it to yourselves—tell us and then laugh.]

[-Wow, can’t tell if this dude is playing a bit or really like this.]

[-Sir, pardon the impertinence, but is today your first time on the internet?]

Seeing the snark ramp up, the woman waved her hands.

“Hey, cut it out. Maybe they really don’t know.”

She took up a huge tumbler from the desk, swallowed a mouthful of water, then blew out a sharp breath to settle her excitement.

“And, to be fair, this is basically general common sense.”

She trailed off as she said it.

It wasn’t wrong, actually.

The notion that the rank 1 would be the strongest had been branded into people’s minds as common sense ever since hunters entered human history.

That is, since roughly forty years ago, when blackish-red pillars—so-called Towers—sprang up all over the world like bamboo shoots after rain and began awakening people.

Once taken as harbingers of apocalypse, now termed dimensional pileups or a nose-hook in the dimension, they had roiled the world and opened a new era.

“After the turbulent boom of chaos ended, and after independence, with dictatorship this and coups that, our country had a lot going on. Back then, the monthly rankings announced by the Tower were the most credible list.”

Her voice grew distant.

“That’s still true, too. It’s common knowledge accepted abroad as well, though in our country—well, it’s not exactly a problem.”

Scratching the bridge of her nose, she muttered,

“That person, you know. The one doing national work whose information can’t be disclosed.”

[-The one whose name cannot be spoken.]

[-The one whose personal info is auto-filtered even now by AI.]

“Hey, the more we talk, the more data piles up and the stream explodes! If I flashed skin and got a red tag, I could at least do damage control. If it trips that filter, I have to abandon the account.”

[-Scarier than the lewdness filter.]

“Ahem! Anyway, after that person awakened, they were too busy with national work to climb the Tower, so, ahem, their results aren’t properly reflected, you could say?”

She gazed at the ceiling as if staring off at a faraway mountain.

“They haven’t revealed exact figures for what goes into the ranking tally, but the number of Tower runs counts as an achievement and weighs quite a bit. But that person entered the Tower exactly thirty-six times.”

[-Not a secret that every entry rewrites records.]

She put a finger to her lips and gave a look that said hush.

“In any case, the Haetae Guild’s guild master is ranked No. 1. But to render a precise evaluation, that national worker would have to climb to the same floor, you know? Anyway—ah, no.”

Babbling whatever came to mind, she suddenly pressed her lips together.

[-The No. 1 way to drive people crazy: stop mid-sentence.]

Unsurprisingly, chat lit up like a bonfire.

Still, she kept her mouth shut. And for good reason—the tidbit that popped into her head was essentially a rumor.

That the person-who-mustn’t-be-named, a civil servant of the Special Agency for Hunter Management, was climbing the Tower solo rather than with a team.

Unlike the lower floors, which ran with the proper five-to-ten-person parties, many floors from the 10th onward required forty-plus. She’d dismissed it as a joke when she heard it; she didn’t know why it came to mind now.

In any case, not wanting to lose a precious account for one ill-timed slip, she, like a proper tank, pulled out an item that would instantly focus everyone’s attention.

“Now that I think of it, I recently bought a really curious item—want to see?”

She adjusted focus so the item pulled from inventory would show cleanly on camera.

[-???]

[-Huh?]

The chat, which had been spitting heat, went quiet at once, and question marks popped up everywhere.

“Guess what this is?”

[-We have eyes, you know. Why are you holding up a talisman?]

[-At last, you’ll exorcise the demons in this chat!]

Smiling triumphantly at the stream of nonsense about the suddenly produced yellow paper, she said,

“Exorcism does sound tempting. But no. It’s an item.”

[-Huh? What are you on about? Why would a talisman be an item? That’s a thing?]

It wasn’t just one or two denying it.

“Don’t trust me? To be fair, when I first saw it I wondered, is this real? Am I hallucinating from sleep deprivation?”

She shook the talisman in her hand.

It was about fifty centimeters long—a vivid yellow sheet whose hush-hush provenance was anyone’s guess.

“It’s a type of item I’ve never handled before. It’s a talisman that blocks killing intent. Since it’s an item, a description pops up in the status window.”

An awakener’s inventory was essentially a personal, intangible warehouse; it would accept non-item objects, too.

But only items displayed descriptions in the status window. In other words, only awakeners could use them.

Item use consumed mana. Unless it was a potion to drink or spray, a non-awakener couldn’t even access it.

The woman read the talisman’s description as it appeared to her eyes.

“So: if killing intent is detected within one meter, a shield auto-deploys and blocks a single strike. Isn’t that hilarious? One meter. If an attack comes in within that range… ugh! I don’t even want to imagine it.”

[-Uh, you’re a melee, right? Does that even help you?]

“Hence the one-time shield. I’m only attacked within a meter. Still, I took it just in case I didn’t have a shield in hand.”

She also doubted the talisman’s usefulness, but thinking of it as insurance for emergencies eased her mind.

Like a true tank, under normal circumstances she was sturdy and solid enough not to take a scratch—slightly sad, but insurance was always necessary.

[-But does it only block ranged ambushes? Only physical? Or magic too?]

“Who knows. It just says it blocks killing intent. I only just learned there are makers producing items in this form—what would I… oh.”

She picked up the tumbler again, then shook it to gauge its contents by the light weight.

There wasn’t a hint of the distinctive slosh of liquid. It was empty; the straw scraped the bottom with a noisy rasp.

“Already finished. Let’s take a short break. I’m going to get some water.”

[-You’re not going to dump water, right?]

[-(Deleted by moderator.)]

[-(Removed by moderator.)]

[-Ah. Ah. He’s gone! Gone.]

Having instantly booted the harasser, she snorted hard and rose from her seat.

Despite the bitter winter cold, the toasty indoor temperature had her in summer pajamas; her bare limbs swung as she headed for the kitchen.

It was a studio, and turning the chair backward practically put her in the kitchen, so instead of switching to a standby screen she just moved.

She’d be back quickly anyway, and even if someone with ill intent barged in, she could punish them with her fists.

Even while she was away, the chat kept rolling.

Grateful for her unusually sharp eyes that could see from afar, she skimmed the mood.

It seemed the talisman left on the desk intrigued them, too.

They’d gnawed through an issue in an instant; once they were bored, she’d end the stream and sleep. Training started tomorrow, and after carb-loading a high-calorie dinner she craved something fizzy. Did she have any zero cola?

The moment she opened the fridge, ding-ding-ding-ding alarms rang in quick succession.

It was the sound that played when paid chats stacked up too fast to read.

She turned her head.

[-The talisman’s on fire!]

[-Fire!]

[-Fire! Fire! Look over here! Sis!]

On the desk, the talisman was floating by itself and burning in utter silence. Staring blankly for a beat, she hastily triggered a skill.

“What? What is it?”

She scanned around quickly, but nothing registered.

“Is it broken? Is the item bugged?”

She hadn’t gotten an exact explanation of how the talisman worked—or rather, she’d half-tuned it out—so she had no guess what was happening.

But the smoke rising from the talisman looked ominous, and she rushed to dart back to the desk.

[-Above!]

The instant the warning seemed to stroke her ear, something thumped and burst above her head.

She snapped her head up.

“What is that?”

A new type of monster?

She’d poured tens of billions into this cramped unit because the apartment’s mana wards were said to be solid—what was this?

Mashing down words she dared not speak, she drew her shield on the spot.

Seeing as chat could see it, too, they’d probably call it in, and she just had to kill it in the meantime.

Pumped up, she fixed her gaze on what jutted from the ceiling—either roots or the withered hand of the Underworld.

In that time, the talisman finished its job, burned through, and vanished without even leaving ash.

Nice effect. If there’s stock, I should buy them out.

She added to her shopping list and braced for the next strike.

As if knowing the talisman that had blocked it once was gone, the monster reached out its hand.

With no body in sight, only pale arms flailing about, it seemed likely to be of the ghost type.

She lifted her shield to anticipate the attack.

“…!!”

A huge scream rang out.

She realized too late that it was her own voice.

But there was no chance to scream again.

A hand, all bone, passed through the shield like it was nothing, seized her face, twisted her jaw, and tore out her tongue.

Not the crack of a snapping bone—it was the first time she’d learned that a sound like that could come from muscles ripping all at once.

Shut… up!

She hadn’t even been making noise—shut up what?

She confirmed the monster’s face, yammering something as it appeared through the spray of blood that seared into view.

A half-collapsed face, like a ghoul’s.

The moment she thought that, her vision twisted, and the monitor flickered into view.

Ah, I’m supposed to go in tomorrow—this is bad.

As the head torn from her body produced the unluckiest thought possible, her consciousness went dark.

Footnotes:

• Solo Tower climbing: Typically floors require party sizes (low floors 5–10, mid-to-high often 40+). Claims of solo clears are urban-legend tier feats signaling extreme power.

• Inventory and status window: Standard LitRPG mechanics; only “items” surface system descriptions and consume mana for use, differentiating them from ordinary objects.

• Talisman blocking “killing intent” within 1 meter: A folk-magic item reimagined as a game artifact; “killing intent” (살기) is an aura signaling lethal hostility that can trigger defensive effects.

• Aggro, tank, melee: MMORPG terms. Tank draws threat and soaks damage, often fights at close range (melee), making short-range one-time shields situational but lifesaving.

• Mana wards in apartments: In hunter fiction, high-end housing often boasts magical barriers or wards; they can fail or be bypassed by certain ghost-type entities.