The door closed behind me, and the long corridor stretched out before my eyes. If I went all the way to the entrance, the association’s Hunters would be standing guard, but here there was no one for security. Just one door away, inside, Yuhyun and Yerim and several others were on my side—but somehow I felt utterly alone.

I took a step—slowly. Even now, I could turn back and open the door. I wouldn’t have to go alone. Even if I collapsed, there were people who would protect me.

‘…Being protected isn’t such a bad option, actually.’

To the public I would remain an F-Rank in need of S-Rank protection until the end, but those dear to me already knew Han Yujin well. I could be satisfied with recognition from the people around me.

Of course, if I did that, I’d have to stay in the background. The S-Ranks would take the lead as before, and Han Yujin would quietly receive their protection. My image at the Japanese gathering would fade away sooner or later.

Maybe everyone could manage well without me. After all, the S-Ranks are more capable than I am. An F-Rank should behave like an F-Rank.

‘That still feels awful.’

Turning the corner, I saw the association’s Hunters. The door to the press hall remained closed. My mind was still crowded with thoughts—various predictions popped up, but in truth…

All of that was just an excuse. It wasn’t a complete lie—of course there was benefit in showing the senior Hunters that I deserve to stand on equal footing with them, and in gaining public support. In the long run, it could be a good turning point even for mid- and lower-rank Hunters.

But the greatest reason was…

I stood before the door, looking down at the handle.

The biggest reason I’m stepping forward like this is deeply personal.

Because I want to. Because I want recognition. Even now everyone worries—and if I stepped back, my family and loved ones could be at ease—but this time, I want to be a little selfish.

I want to stand beside Yuhyun, side by side with the S-Ranks, and have that recognized. I want everyone to think of it as natural. Even if it feels greedy…

Is this a mistake? A pointless act? Will I regret it? Amid all these doubts I reached out my hand. For myself. And then—

“Hyung.”

I heard a voice. I hurriedly turned my head, but apart from the association’s Hunters, no one was there. Had lack of sleep given me hallucinations? My body felt so weak, maybe that was it.

—Ppiyak!

Then Ppiyak chirped—

—Ppiyak ppi-yak.

Something heavy landed on the crown of my head. A warm bundle flapped atop me.

“Ppiyak!”

Has he teleported here again? Since I never know where he’ll appear, I’d reported him to the association in advance—but having him in public wasn’t ideal.

“Excuse me, could you take Ppiyak to the waiting room? Please hand him over to Hunter Park Yerim.”

One of the association Hunters agreed and took Ppiyak away. I instantly felt less tense. Feeling lighter, I opened the door. I smiled at the densely packed reporters and stepped onto the platform.

Normally, press conferences for high-rank Hunters—especially S-Ranks—allow mostly pro-Hunter journalists inside. It’s part of image management. Of course sometimes sensational articles slipped through, but reporters knew that would bar them from future conferences or interviews with S-Ranks, so they restrained themselves.

This time, though, restrictions were minimal. I recognized a few familiar faces among the reporters.

‘There’s Kim Seung-jun, but no Park Hae-shin.’

Understandable—those who tormented an otherwise average F-Rank like me wouldn’t have the rank to cover my every move. Even with looser restrictions, competition for this spot must be fierce. It was the same before. That’s why I’d never crossed paths. They saw me as weak, easy to pick on.

How about today?

After a simple greeting, I sat in the prepared seat. Pulling my chair close, I settled into a comfortable posture—and my eyes dropped to the letters at the edge of the white tablecloth draped toward me:

“Don’t overdo it, hyung. It’ll be fine.”

“♡Uncle, fighting!♡”

When did they write this? No wonder they left early. I saw Yerim’s hearts and Yuhyun must have added one under his note. Then Yerim decorated around hers with stars, and Yuhyun added more. I could picture them grumbling and ignoring each other—smothering a laugh, I focused back on the reporters.

“Is it true that Director Han Yujin obtained the party invitation first?”

A straightforward question came.

“Domestically, yes.”

Though Chloe’s invitation was taken from me.

“Guildmaster Breaker announced that Director Han Yujin helped him obtain the invitation. I’ve also heard that other S-Rank guildmasters received his help.”

“That’s because hunters in Korea—more precisely East Asia—were not originally targets for invitation.”

That was fact. That chatterbox is a racist. Not Earthlings to begin with.

“So I personally contacted Mr. Chatterbox and secured an invitation.”

“There’s a foreign S-Rank Hunter claiming that Director Han Yujin stole her invitation.”

Just who is that? A reporter pressed aggressively. I widened my eyes in feigned surprise.

“What exactly did she claim?”

“She didn’t specify, but insisted it was undoubtedly a trap.”

“I see… So an S-Rank Hunter fell into a trap and had her invitation taken, stored in an inventory, is that it?”

I wore a troubled expression.

“I worry whether it’s appropriate to disclose the details here—for the sake of her reputation, I’ll pass on that question.”

Several reporters urged me to answer. The story of an F-Rank stealing an invitation from an S-Rank must be fascinating. Meeting their gazes, I let my words trail off: It’s fine with me… Sensing the risk that the S-Rank might retaliate if embarrassed, they fell silent.

Thanks to Hyun-ah’s friendly interview, reactions were calmer than just after Chatterbox’s party announcement. But it didn’t last long.

“It’s known that seven Korean S-Rank Hunters have Chatterbox invitations. Do you intend to yield to Guildmaster Park Min-gyu of Hanshin or Hunter Kim Seong-han of Haeyeon? There’s also the so-called quasi-S-Rank Kim Min-ui. And far more A-Rank Hunters.”

In short: Why is an F-Rank interfering? Yet they phrased it politely. Before the return, they’d have bluntly asked if an F-Rank even deserves to join an S-Rank party.

“What about Hunter Kim Seong-han of Haeyeon? He declined.”

“Although Korea is stable now, not all S-Ranks can be absent. I’ll contact Guildmaster Hanshin directly.”

“So will you step aside?”

What are they saying?

“There are extra invitations. But I think it’s safer for two S-Ranks to remain in Korea.”

Considering Guildmaster Hanshin’s character, he’d likely refuse. I gave them a preemptive shield: If he opts out, I’d look like the bad guy otherwise.

“And Hunter Kim Min-ui declined due to special circumstances.”

“Still, isn’t that better than Director Han Yujin?”

All eyes—S, A, even B-Ranks—agreed. Viewers beyond the cameras, too. Some few might find it rude, but facts are facts.

“If there’s a hunter better than me—”

I smiled at the cameras.

“I’ll yield.”

“So you won’t participate?”

“Do you intend to prioritize Haeyeon’s hunter?”

“No. The condition for transfer is simple.”

Reporters leaned in.

“A hunter who can steal a party invitation from an S-Rank Hunter.”

The reporters, eager to pounce, suddenly quieted.

“A hunter who can fight and defeat an S-Rank Hunter. Or a hunter who can convince an S-Rank to pretend they did.”

They say it’s doctored footage. If anyone can manage that, speak up.

“It’s not about being superior. If you can match me, I’ll gladly hand it over.”

If I lack the qualification—fine. Bring me someone on par. Someone better than the usual mundane F-Ranks.

But there’s a catch. The only Koreans meeting that condition are already on my side. Apart from those few, there’s no one else. No one.

“…But Director Han Yujin didn’t receive help from S-Rank Hunters?”

“Isn’t it said that the foreign S-Rank fell into my trap? Go ask them whether I benefited from any S-Rank. And if someone can help me, I’ll accept. I’ll gladly give the invitation to anyone who meets one of my three conditions.”

Of course, only to Koreans. Better for me to go than hand it to foreigners.

I could feel the reporters’ confusion. I wasn’t wrong: since I’m lacking, the public wants someone else to take it. So I offered to yield to someone as capable as me.

Makes sense. No reason to give it to a less capable hunter.

“Then will you personally attend Chatterbox’s party?”

“If no one meets the condition, of course I will. And—”

I took a short breath and continued.

“I deserve to attend.”

I met their gazes. After all, I obtained the invitation myself. The party was practically my doing. Who else but me? Even compared to Seong Hyunjae, I came first.

Chatterbox surely sees me as the protagonist.

Yes, I am the protagonist.

“How do you feel about your F-Rank status?”

“I’ve already produced results. And I’m confident I’ll achieve more.”

It may seem underhanded, but I’m likely to last. Chatterbox won’t be happy if I’m eliminated early. He’ll help me by any means. Then I can say, “I’m F-Rank, but I crushed an S-Rank, haha.” That’s the point.

At the very least, I might get a wildcard chance. Or maybe I’ll say, “I quit,” and still gain something. I’ve already set up that possibility.

“Isn’t your confidence excessive? Especially if you trust the S-Ranks—like your sister, Guildmaster Haeyeon?”

“Also—I will attend alone.”

The report that it’s a two-person team had already spread abroad. Reporters looked stunned again.

“I obtained a special one-person invitation.”

The mark on my neck. Chatterbox said even without an invitation, he’d ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) welcome me. So I have a one-person invitation.

“Why make such a sudden move?”

A reporter I recognized from before asked.

“Until now, haven’t you behaved according to your F-Rank stats? You even contracted to receive S-Rank protection. Why suddenly change your attitude?”

Their eyes were suspicious. My public persona had been completely different.

“As you said, I’m F-Rank. Practically no different from an unawakened.”

Just like most of the people here and watching on TV.

“When I first entered the dungeon, I was terrified. I couldn’t sleep for days, trembling.”

That was true. I was truly a normal F-Rank. There were injured during the raid. Monsters swarmed, screams and howls, the stench of blood everywhere. Though veterans were present and success was almost guaranteed, it was still shocking.

Many low-rank Hunters quit after their first raid. But I—because I was so scared—I couldn’t give up. My sister was in the same line of work.

“And, as you know, many things happened.”

Plenty was public knowledge.

“I changed—of course. It was impossible not to change.”

More than just half a year passed. Five years since awakening.

“Most recently, it was extremely difficult. I had to struggle to survive among senior Hunters. I suffered a serious injury I haven’t disclosed. Yet I kept my life and returned home.”

A question followed: Was the health check for that injury? I nodded lightly.

“I’m undoubtedly weak—by stats. Yet I stand before you. Because I’m F-Rank, I was easily targeted—viewed as a defenseless treasure to be snatched.”

No one considered my resistance. They made use of it. That might continue, but Chatterbox has come to understand me and passed that on to his followers. So have Hwangrim, Chloe, and the few Hunters at the Japanese gathering.

“So I want to show you—an F-Rank, when stepped on, wriggles, claws back, even bites. F-Ranks can change. No—grow.”

F-Ranks get cursed, but also empathy. Everyone loves seeing an ordinary person challenge geniuses and succeed.

“An F-Rank surviving among S-Ranks—that’s an opportunity. Though my stats say F, if my ability rivals S, I’ll naturally be safer. At least no one’s ever tried to kidnap an S-Rank.”

Even A-Ranks get relative safety. They guard information for the sake of family.

“But if the results are poor, won’t it become more dangerous?”

“Then I’ll remain under protection—just as before. In other words, it’s a challenge with no downside for me.”

There’s no risk of becoming worse. I’m already at the bottom. The only advantage of the bottom is that there’s nowhere to go but up.

“I know how hard it is to break free of your rank—especially at lower tiers, the climb is steeper.”

No one knows that more painfully than I do.

“But it’s not impossible.”

It’s not that I must ascend. We’re just ordinary. But having someone who’s climbed before makes all the difference, however narrow the path.

“I’ll struggle with all my might.”

My ambition is large, but what’s wrong with that? I smiled broadly and asked for support. Cutting through everything, an F-Rank among S-Ranks is exciting. One exception makes it more interesting than a sea of S-Ranks—if I can hold my ground.

A few more questions about the party followed, but none challenged Han Yujin’s attendance further—after all, I’d offered to yield under the right conditions.

Even so, complaints would arise. Some hope I fail. But I left the press hall feeling lighter.

At least this time, I got my chance.

“Hyung!”

Back in the waiting room, Yuhyun greeted me from the door. Sleep finally overtook me. Yuhyun supported me; Yerim, Hyun-ah, Noah, and Seong Hyunjae said something, but I couldn’t hear. I simply fell asleep.

And it was okay—because here, unguarded, I could sleep in peace, knowing I was protected.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep