Chapter 3: The Price of Being Weak

Chapter 3: The Price of Being Weak

The next morning, Kang Seo-jun woke before his alarm.

For several seconds, he lay still, staring at the ceiling.

Yesterday's events returned to him almost immediately. The awakening ceremony. The examiner's expression. The F-rank result displayed for everyone to see.

He closed his eyes again.

Sleeping wouldn't change anything.

With a quiet sigh, Seo-jun sat up and reached for his phone. There were several messages in the family group chat, most of them from his younger sister, Kang Ha-eun. She had apparently spent part of the previous night arguing with their father about what to eat for breakfast.

He read the messages, shook his head, and got out of bed.

At least some things hadn't changed.

When he stepped into the kitchen, his mother was preparing breakfast while Ha-eun sat at the table, scrolling through videos on her phone.

"You're awake early," Han Mi-yeon said.

"Couldn't sleep anymore."

She glanced at him briefly. "Did you sleep well?"

Seo-jun hesitated.

"Yeah."

It wasn't entirely true, but he didn't want to worry her.

His mother didn't press him. Instead, she placed a plate of rice and eggs on the table.

"Eat before it gets cold."

Ha-eun looked up from her phone as Seo-jun sat down.

"Finally! I've been waiting for breakfast forever. I was starting to think I'd have to eat the table instead."

Seo-jun glanced at her. "Keep talking and I'll sell your phone."

She grinned and quickly picked up her spoon. "Okay, okay. I'm eating!"

Their father had already left for work. Kang Mu-jin's job at one of the country's major Hunter corporations rarely followed an ordinary schedule. Sometimes he returned before sunset. Other times, he came home long after everyone else had gone to bed.

The work paid better than most ordinary jobs, but it was hardly comfortable. Rift cleanup operations were dangerous even after the main hunting team had declared an area secure.

And despite ten years of service, Mu-jin was still only a C-rank hunter.

In a world where rank determined how people looked at you, that fact had followed him throughout his career.

Seo-jun finished breakfast and checked his phone again.

A notification from the Hunter Association appeared on the screen.

Awakening Registration Complete.

Below it were his registered details, including his rank, age, and awakened ability.

Ability: Arcane Sense.

Classification: F-rank.

The words looked no different from yesterday.

He locked his phone.

He had promised himself he wouldn't spend the entire day staring at the result. There was no point in pretending it didn't matter, but there was no point in letting it control every moment either.

After helping his mother clear the table, he returned to his room, changed into a clean shirt, and opened his laptop.

If he wanted to understand his future, he needed to understand the world he was entering.

He searched for information about F-rank hunters.

The first results were official reports from the Hunter Association. They contained statistics about employment, dungeon clearance, hunter distribution, and annual income.

Seo-jun scrolled through them.

The numbers weren't encouraging.

Most F-rank hunters couldn't qualify for ordinary frontline hunting teams. Their abilities were often too limited, their physical capabilities too low, or their mana reserves too small to justify the risk of bringing them into dangerous dungeons.

Some found work assisting higher-ranked hunters. Others joined cleanup crews, carried equipment, transported supplies, or performed administrative tasks for guilds.

A few managed to build respectable careers.

But those were the exceptions.

Seo-jun opened another page.

It was a discussion forum where hunters shared their experiences.

One post caught his attention.

I'm F-rank, twenty-two years old. I've applied to twelve guilds and haven't received a single offer. My family thinks awakening was supposed to change our lives. I don't know what to tell them.

The replies were worse.

You should've thought about that before awakening with a useless ability.

Get a normal job.

Not everyone is meant to be a hunter.

Seo-jun stopped scrolling.

The comments were cruel, but what bothered him most was that some of them weren't entirely wrong.

Awakening didn't guarantee success.

The world had changed twenty years ago, and society had adapted around the people who could fight its monsters. Hunters received special training, access to valuable resources, and opportunities unavailable to ordinary citizens.

But those benefits weren't distributed equally.

A powerful awakening could lift a family out of poverty. A rare ability could attract guild recruiters before its owner had even finished registration.

A weak awakening could leave someone standing at the edge of the same world watching everyone else move forward.

And for families already struggling to make ends meet, the difference could be devastating

Seo-jun leaned back in his chair.

He had always known that hunter ranks mattered. Everyone did.

He had watched televised dungeon raids, read news about famous guild leaders, and listened to classmates discuss which abilities they hoped to awaken.

But knowing something existed and understanding how deeply it affected people's lives were two different things.

Yesterday, he had been disappointed because he hadn't awakened a powerful ability.

Today, he was beginning to understand that his rank would influence much more than his pride.

It could determine what work he was offered, what training he could afford, and how many chances he would receive to improve.

He opened a new tab and searched for entry-level hunter jobs.

The results appeared almost instantly.

Most required at least a D-rank awakening.

Several demanded previous experience.

Others required applicants to provide their own protective equipment.

Seo-jun clicked one listing after another.

One company was hiring assistants for dungeon supply transport. The starting salary was reasonable, but applicants needed a registered hunter vehicle license and their own protective gear.

Another was recruiting low-rank hunters for monster-material collection. The job description warned that workers might encounter residual mana, unstable terrain, and unidentified monster remains.

The pay was calculated per assignment.

There were no guarantees of regular work.

He checked the equipment prices listed on a hunter supply website.

Even basic protective clothing cost more than he had expected. Proper mana-resistant gear was far beyond what he could comfortably afford.

He closed the page.

It wasn't that there were no opportunities for someone like him.

It was that almost every opportunity came with a condition he might struggle to meet.

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

"Seo-jun?"

His mother stood at the doorway.

"Are you busy?"

"No. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was going to the market. Would you like to come with me?"

He looked at the laptop.

The job listings could wait.

"Sure."

The morning market was crowded.

Shopkeepers called out prices while customers moved between stalls. Delivery workers pushed carts through narrow gaps, and the smell of freshly cooked food drifted from a small restaurant near the entrance.

It was an ordinary scene.

Yet even here, the hunter world was impossible to ignore.

A large screen above the street displayed advertisements for a famous guild. A group of young hunters wearing matching jackets passed by, talking loudly about an upcoming dungeon expedition.

People moved aside to let them through.

One of the hunters wore a silver badge indicating a B-rank classification.

A few bystanders recognized him.

"Isn't that the guy who cleared the northern dungeon last month?"

"I heard his guild paid for his entire training program."

"Must be nice."

The hunters continued walking without paying attention to anyone around them.

Seo-jun watched them disappear into the crowd.

He didn't hate them.

If he had awakened a B-rank ability, he probably would have accepted the same opportunities without asking too many questions.

Still, it was difficult not to notice the difference.

People made room for strength.

They admired it, invested in it, and trusted it with their money and lives.

Weakness received a different kind of attention.

Usually, it received none at all.

At a vegetable stall, his mother began comparing prices. Seo-jun stood nearby, holding the shopping bag while she carefully selected what they needed.

The difference between two small bundles of vegetables was only a few rupees, but his mother checked both before making her choice.

She had always done that.

When he was younger, he had thought she simply enjoyed shopping carefully. As he grew older, he understood that every small saving helped.

Their household expenses were manageable only because everyone was careful.

His father's salary covered the essentials, but hunter-related work came with irregular expenses. Equipment repairs, transportation, and occasional recovery periods could eat into their savings.

His mother managed the household budget, stretching every payment as far as she could.

And now Seo-jun had awakened as an F-rank hunter.

He wasn't sure how much his future would cost them.

"Seo-jun," his mother said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Can you carry these?"

He took the bags.

"Of course."

They continued through the market.

Near the entrance, a small crowd had gathered around a public information screen. A news report showed a damaged commercial district following a dungeon incident.

The footage displayed broken windows, emergency vehicles, and workers repairing the road.

A reporter stood in front of the damaged buildings.

"Authorities have confirmed that the incident resulted in multiple injuries and significant property damage. Compensation claims are being reviewed, while local businesses await permission to resume operations."

The screen changed to a panel discussion.

One speaker argued that the city needed more high-rank hunters. Another criticized the cost of maintaining public dungeon-response teams.

Seo-jun listened for a few seconds.

The discussion moved on to the financial burden of protecting smaller districts.

A shopkeeper nearby clicked his tongue.

"Every year, they talk about the same things. More funding more equipment, more hunters. Meanwhile, we still have to pay rent even when the streets are closed."

His neighbor nodded.

"And if your shop gets damaged? Good luck getting compensation quickly."

Neither man sounded surprised.

They were simply tired.

Seo-jun looked back at the screen.

The hunter world was often presented as a world of heroes. The strongest hunters saved cities, defeated monsters, and earned fortunes. Their battles filled television broadcasts, and their names appeared on billboards.

But behind every battle were people who had to rebuild what was destroyed.

People who couldn't afford to stop working.

People who had no special abilities to protect them from the consequences

For them, a dungeon incident wasn't an exciting news report.

It was lost income, medical bills, damaged homes, and another month of uncertainty.

And if someone like Seo-jun failed to become a capable hunter, he might spend his entire life on the other side of that divide.

Not necessarily fighting monsters.

Simply trying to survive in a world shaped by them.

When Seo-jun and his mother returned home, his father still hadn't come back.

His mother began putting away the groceries while he carried the heavier bags into the kitchen.

Afterward, he returned to his room and opened the laptop again.

This time, he searched for something different.

How do low-rank hunters improve their abilities?

The results were more useful than he expected.

There were training centers that accepted F-rank hunters, independent instructors offering basic lessons, and online programs developed by the Hunter Association.

Most of the programs focused on fundamentals.

Basic Mana Control.

Physical Enhancement Training.

Skill Development.

Combat Awareness and Reaction Training.

Seo-jun opened the details of each program.

Basic Mana Control taught awakened people to recognize and regulate the mana inside their bodies. Physical Enhancement Training focused on strengthening the body so it could withstand the demands of hunter work. Skill Development helped hunters practise the abilities they had awakened, while Combat Awareness taught them to recognize threats and respond under pressure.

The courses varied in price.

Some were relatively affordable, but the better-known training centers charged registration fees, equipment costs, and monthly tuition. Programs run by major guilds were even more expensive, though they sometimes provided equipment and individual instruction.

Seo-jun checked the requirements for a beginner's mana-control course.

The fee made him pause.

It wasn't impossible to save that amount, but paying for it would mean giving up other things the family might need.

He opened another tab.

This time, he searched for ways to improve mana capacity.

Several products appeared on the screen.

Mana Growth Potions. Mana Enhancement Elixirs. Skill Development Pills.

Their descriptions promised different benefits.

Mana Growth Potions were designed to support gradual mana-capacity development when used alongside suitable training. Mana Enhancement Elixirs were more concentrated products, generally more expensive and intended for experienced users or those undergoing specialized training. Skill Development Pills were marketed for particular abilities, although their effectiveness varied and their prices could be difficult for ordinary hunters to justify.

There were also physical recovery products intended to help hunters recover after strenuous training.

Seo-jun read the warnings carefully.

None of the products guaranteed a higher rank.

A hunter's rank depended on several factors, including mana capacity, control, physical condition, the nature of the awakened ability, and performance under official assessment. A product might support one part of that process, but it couldn't replace training or erase the limitations of an ability.

Some advertisements made extravagant claims, but the Association's guidance was more cautious.

Resources can support development. They cannot guarantee advancement.

Seo-jun leaned closer to the screen.

So there were ways to improve.

They simply weren't easy to access.

He opened a listing for a low-grade Mana Growth Potion.

Even the lowest grade cost enough to make him reconsider buying anything at all. Higher grades were priced far beyond his current means.

He closed the listing and searched for free training resources instead.

The Association's website offered basic instructional videos and written guides. They weren't a substitute for a proper instructor, but they were available to registered hunters without an additional fee.

Seo-jun downloaded the beginner's guide to mana control.

Then he searched for information about his own ability.

Arcane Sense — F-rank.

The official description was brief. The ability allowed its user to perceive certain traces of mana and detect nearby awakened individuals or monsters within a limited range.

The registered effective range was approximately ten meters.

The guide warned that the clarity of the information could vary depending on the user's condition, surrounding interference, and the target's mana.

There was no mention of a hidden evolution or a guaranteed path to a higher rank.

Seo-jun read the description twice.

Ten meters.

That was the limit everyone would see on his record.

He had no reason to assume his ability would become something extraordinary. Hoping for that without evidence would only make it harder to accept reality.

Still, a ten-meter warning could be useful if he learned to interpret it properly. Even a limited ability might have practical value when used carefully.

He downloaded the guide and opened a blank document.

At the top, he typed:

Arcane Sense — Current Limitations and Training Goals

Underneath, he wrote down everything he knew.

Effective range: approximately ten meters.

Primary purpose: detecting nearby mana traces, awakened individuals, and monsters.

Unknowns: precision, consistency, and how much concentration the ability required.

Training goal: understand the ability before trying to push its limits.

It wasn't much of a plan.

But it was the first one he had made since receiving his rank.

The sound of the front door opening pulled Seo-jun away from his laptop.

"I'm home," his father called.

Seo-jun stepped into the living room. His mother was asking Mu-jin whether he had eaten.

"Just something at the worksite," Mu-jin replied, setting his bag down. "I'll have a proper meal now."

Then he turned toward his son.

"How was your day?"

Seo-jun considered giving the usual answer.

"Fine."

His father raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't sound convincing."

Seo-jun glanced toward the kitchen, then back at him.

"I was researching my ability. And different ways hunters improve."

Mu-jin nodded for him to continue.

"There are training programs and products that can help with mana development," Seo-jun explained. "But most of them cost more than I expected."

"That's usually how it works."

His father sat down with a tired sigh.

"Training takes time. Good instructors cost money. Equipment costs money. Even the materials hunters use for practice aren't always cheap."

Seo-jun lowered his eyes.

"I don't want to keep asking you for money."

For a moment, Mu-jin said nothing.

Then he leaned forward.

"Listen to me, Seo-jun. There's nothing wrong with wanting to improve. And there's nothing wrong with looking for ways to do it without wasting money."

His tone was calm, not disappointed.

"But don't believe every advertisement you see. Some products can help. Some are overpriced. And some sellers will promise anything if they think a desperate hunter will pay for it."

Seo-jun nodded.

"Start with what you have," Mu-jin continued. "Learn your ability. Build your physical condition. Practise the basics before spending money on something you don't understand."

"What if my ability really is too weak?"

"Then you'll have to understand its limitations better than anyone else."

Mu-jin looked directly at him.

"You may not be able to change everything about your awakening. But you can choose how carefully you develop what you have."

Seo-jun remembered the B-rank hunter at the market, the training programs he couldn't afford, and the forum posts he wished he hadn't read.

His father's advice didn't make those things disappear.

But it gave him something practical to do instead of staring at his rank and feeling helpless.

Mu-jin stood and picked up his bag.

"Being poor makes mistakes more expensive, Seo-jun. Remember that."

He started toward the kitchen, then stopped.

"Seo-jun, wait a moment."

His father opened a small inner pocket of his work bag and took out a narrow paper package.

From inside it, he carefully removed a small glass bottle filled with pale blue liquid.

Seo-jun stared at it.

"Is that a Mana Growth Potion?"

Mu-jin nodded.

"Grade Nine. The lowest grade available on the market."

Seo-jun looked from the bottle to his father's face.

"Where did you get it?"

"Bought it on my way home."

His father said it casually, but Seo-jun knew better than to assume it had been an insignificant purchase.

"How much did it cost?"

Mu-jin told him.

Seo-jun went quiet.

The amount wasn't enormous by a wealthy hunter's standards. For their family, however, it was enough to make him think of his mother comparing vegetable prices at the market, checking every small expense before putting something in the shopping bag.

"You didn't have to buy this for me," Seo-jun said.

"I know."

"Then why—"

"Because you want to improve, and I want you to have a chance to do that."

Mu-jin placed the bottle in his son's hand.

"One potion won't transform your ability overnight. Grade Nine is the weakest grade, and its effects are limited. It's meant to support gradual mana-capacity development when you combine it with proper training."

He paused to make sure Seo-jun was listening.

"Follow the instructions. Don't take more than recommended, and don't assume that using it means you can skip training. If you aren't sure how to use it safely, ask someone qualified first."

Seo-jun held the bottle carefully.

The liquid inside shifted as he moved it. It looked ordinary enough, apart from its faint blue glow.

"Thank you, Dad."

Mu-jin gave him a small nod.

"You don't have to thank me for wanting you to have a better future. Just make good use of it."

He rested a hand briefly on Seo-jun's shoulder.

"And don't measure your progress by how quickly someone else gets stronger. Learn what works for you."

With that, he headed into the kitchen, leaving Seo-jun standing in the living room with the bottle in his hand.

For a while, Seo-jun didn't move.

Grade Nine.

The lowest grade available.

It wasn't a rare treasure or some miraculous elixir that could turn an F-rank hunter into a powerful one. It wouldn't erase the result of his awakening, and it certainly wouldn't guarantee that his rank would rise.

But his father had still bought it for him.

Seo-jun knew how hard Mu-jin worked. He knew how often his father came home exhausted, carrying the weight of a job that offered little recognition and plenty of risk.

And he knew that this bottle represented money the family could have used elsewhere.

He returned to his room and placed the potion beside his laptop.

On one side lay the Grade Nine Mana Growth Potion.

On the other sat the free training guides he had downloaded.

For the first time since his awakening, the two things seemed connected. One was a resource his family had sacrificed to provide. The other was knowledge he could begin using without spending anything.

He opened his notes and looked at the list he had written earlier.

Ten meters. Limited detection. Unknown potential.

He added another line.

First goal: learn to use Arcane Sense consistently.

Then he opened the beginner's guide to mana control and began reading.

He was still an F-rank hunter. His ability was still limited, and his family's financial situation hadn't changed.

Tomorrow, he would have to face the same reality.

But he no longer wanted to spend the entire day asking why he had awakened so weakly.

He wanted to find out what he could do with what he had.

Ten meters. An F-rank ability. A Grade Nine Mana Growth Potion.

It wasn't much.

But it was a beginning.