Chapter 2: The First Awakened’s Shame

B-rank.

Objectively speaking, it was quite a usable rank.

The true issue, however, stemmed from the inordinate expectations placed upon Shin Ji-ho.

As ‘the first Awakened,’ he was once the focal point of the entire world’s attention.

Yet, upon his actual unveiling, the outcome was merely a B-rank, devoid of any remarkable impact.

Everyone was profoundly disappointed. The letdown was as severe as the preceding anticipation had been excessive.

Of course, if it had merely been a matter of receiving a low rank, Shin Ji-ho would not have become the object of ridicule he was now.

The true issue emerged when Shin Ji-ho frequently fainted or vomited blood during missions.

An Awakened’s body is inherently incomparably robust compared to that of an ordinary person. The higher the rank of the Awakened, the stronger their body becomes, transcending human limits.

Naturally, there are exceptions where Hunters with healing or special-type skills, despite having weak combat abilities, receive exceptionally high ranks.

But Shin Ji-ho was an ordinary combat-type Hunter with an [Enhancement] skill. He was a combat-oriented Hunter whose very livelihood depended on his physical resilience.

Yet, a B-rank combat-type Hunter suffers from anemia and even collapses daily?

That was absurd.

Consequently, within a mere month of his B-rank assessment, Shin Ji-ho found himself engulfed in a maelstrom of scandals.

Outcries questioning whether external forces had manipulated Shin Ji-ho’s assessment swiftly rippled through South Korea, then ignited a global uproar.

Unfortunately, Shin Ji-ho was not the only one caught in the scandal.

Suspicion quickly cascaded onto the Cheongram Group, chaired by Shin Ji-ho’s father, Shin Jung-ho; onto the Cheongram Guild, a subsidiary of the group; and even implicated the Korean branch of the Hunter Association responsible for the ranking.

The suspicion that Cheongram had bribed the Association to manipulate Hunter ranks spread like wildfire across a parched field.

Chaebol, association, corruption.

These three volatile subjects were doused like oil onto Shin Ji-ho, who was already metaphorically on the griddle.

Only after several re-examinations, both domestically and internationally, did the controversy subside. However, the suspicious glances that viewed Shin Ji-ho with displeasure never completely vanished.

Though still recognized as the first Awakened, Shin Ji-ho remained a Hunter tainted by the lingering stench of corruption.

Hunters, in particular, fiercely believed the rank manipulation theory more than anyone else and genuinely disliked Shin Ji-ho. The mere mention of his name seemed to press a hidden button, causing them to foam at the mouth with vitriol.

Despite being slandered, Shin Ji-ho increased his activities instead of backing down. His family continuously tried to dissuade him, but Ji-ho had no intention of retreating.

If Shin Ji-ho were to back down now, would people think, ‘Oh, he’s quitting because he wants to quit’? They would think, ‘He tried to gloss things over with money, but he’s incompetent, so he’s quietly slinking away.’

To be branded across the globe as an incompetent, worthless, and corrupt Hunter, only to then resign?

He wouldn’t have it.

Shin Ji-ho wanted to prove his abilities and be recognized.

‘Honestly, at this point, wouldn’t it be better to just quit?’

Shin Ji-ho was the guild master of No Name, the guild he founded.

It wasn’t a guild he had created with great enthusiasm from the start. It was merely a guild he had stubbornly established after refusing Joo Yi-won’s persistent invitations to join Cheongram. Even its name was chosen haphazardly.

However, once he set his mind to it, he worked incredibly hard. Of course, it wasn’t just his effort; the power of money also played a role.

Consequently, over the past year, Shin Ji-ho’s guild, No Name, had managed to establish a remarkably solid foundation among mid-tier guilds.

However, that proved to be No Name’s inherent limitation.

No Name still couldn’t shake off the image of a guild run as a hobby by someone born with a silver spoon. Honestly, it wasn’t entirely wrong. If Shin Ji-ho hadn’t poured his personal funds into it, the guild would have failed long ago.

Simply maintaining the guild wouldn’t change anything.

Among ordinary people who had no interest in Hunters, Shin Ji-ho was already a stale topic. Even for those who followed Hunter news, he was dismissed as an antiquated topic, evoking a dismissive, ‘Oh, that person existed?’ As for Hunters, well, they relentlessly criticized him.

To reverse public opinion now, he would need to clear at least one S-rank dungeon.

However, such an accomplishment was not merely attainable through Ji-ho’s fervent wishes and relentless efforts.

At this rate, No Name would forever remain a mid-tier guild.

It was a predetermined fate. There was no way to overcome it.

There was also the option of recruiting external personnel to clear dungeons. He even knew Hunters who would help without taking a single penny if asked. But he disliked that method.

A cascade of troubling thoughts continued to plague him.

“Lying down just makes me think useless thoughts…”

Shin Ji-ho shook his head, as though trying to dislodge the intrusive thoughts, and rose from his spot.

It was only the first year. It was too early to speak of surrender.

‘I should stop these useless thoughts and just go home.’

Just as he was about to change out of his patient gown to be discharged, someone knocked on the door from outside.

“Who is it?”

Instead of an answer, the door opened without permission. Ji-ho clicked his tongue. There was only one person rude enough to enter so presumptuously.

The impudent man strode confidently into the room, making a direct path toward Ji-ho.

The man’s name was Joo Yi-won.

There were countless epithets attached to Joo Yi-won.

The world’s only SS-rank Hunter.

The absolute number one, with an overwhelming gap between him and the second-place holder.

The first Hunter in the world to clear a dungeon and uncover the principles of Gates.

A man who could easily have established his own guild, yet instead chose to join the Cheongram Guild—a subsidiary of the Cheongram Group—becoming its guild master and subsequently elevating Cheongram to become the world’s foremost guild.

He was also Shin Ji-ho’s childhood friend, who had been like a brother since their youth, and his once-hated rival.

Yes, that was once the case.

Originally, the two lived in the same house and attended everything from kindergarten to university together. As a result, they unintentionally found themselves in constant competition.

And their grades were always Joo Yi-won first, Shin Ji-ho second.

Now… Joo Yi-won remained first, while Shin Ji-ho was no longer even ranked, making him almost yearn for the days when they were merely one rank apart.

“Sweetheart.”

Yi-won’s voice, sweet as if overflowing with sugar, sent shivers down his spine. It was a nickname he never got used to, no matter how many times he heard it. Ji-ho scratched his arm idly and replied curtly.

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I came to see you, of course. I rushed over as soon as work finished; aren’t you going to welcome me?”

“Go wash up and get some sleep.”

Ji-ho clicked his tongue and scrutinized the other man.

Though he hadn’t confirmed the specifics, Joo Yi-won’s schedule today included an event pertaining to Awakened individuals.

Joo Yi-won’s hair was neatly swept back, revealing his forehead, and he wore a formal suit. His outward appearance, at the very least, was impeccably refined.

Up to that point, he didn’t look much different from usual, but the large bouquet of roses in one hand stood out. It was a formal event, so he wouldn’t have received such a bouquet; where could he have gotten it?

It clearly looked like dozens of roses, but surely he hadn’t walked through the middle of the hospital carrying something like that? He clearly had no awareness of being a celebrity.

Ji-ho, who was about to ignore him and change his clothes, paused at an oddly persistent gaze. Joo Yi-won’s gaze lingered on Shin Ji-ho’s hands, which were in the process of unfastening the top two buttons of his shirt.

“…”

A peculiar glint sparked in Joo Yi-won’s eyes, which others typically praised for their clarity and purity.

Feeling somehow creeped out, Ji-ho immediately put his plan to change and be discharged on hold and re-buttoned his shirt. Only then did the strange glint in Yi-won’s eyes soften.

As the awkward feeling dissipated, Ji-ho felt a subtle sense of relief and gestured towards the bouquet of roses with his chin.

“What’s that? Did you receive it?”

“Curious?”

“No, I just figured you’d have left it somewhere before showing up here.”

“Why would I receive roses from someone else? I bought them to give to my Ji-ho.”

“No reason to receive them? What nonsense… You get them all the time.”

He must have received thousands of welcome bouquets when visiting other countries. At Ji-ho’s words, Yi-won shook his head.

“I’ve never received them with my own hands. I hand them over to my secretary. I made this myself, just for you, you know?”

“You made it?”

“Yes, I personally trimmed each and every rose and arranged them into a bouquet.”

‘Is that true?’

Ji-ho stared at the bouquet of roses with a dubious expression. Joo Yi-won was not a liar, except for his absurd claims of liking Shin Ji-ho.

Yi-won smiled brightly and gently swayed the bouquet. Each time he swayed it, the rich, abundant scent of roses pleasantly tickled Ji-ho’s nose.

“Please take it. You can at least accept some flowers, can’t you?”

Joo Yi-won typically enjoyed showering him with gifts. Useful items obtained from dungeons were his main presents, but there were so many excellent ones that they became burdensome.

The only item he had ever accepted was a single pair of gloves. He had only reluctantly accepted the gloves because his parents had joined forces, insisting he wear them, but it seemed Yi-won had changed tactics when Ji-ho didn’t easily accept gifts afterward.

As Ji-ho continued to ponder with a reluctant expression, Joo Yi-won pretended to be sulking.

“You always refuse everything.”

“What’s with flowers between two men?”

“Don’t assign meaning to every single flower, Ji-ho. Can’t I even buy you flowers? Between us?”

“What ‘us’?”

“We’re like family, aren’t we? Are you really not going to take them?”

Ji-ho’s face immediately contorted.

‘That underhanded bastard.’

He couldn’t refuse when Yi-won put it like that. Having lost his parents at a young age, Yi-won had been taken in by Ji-ho’s parents and lived with them.

There were even people who used that to mock Joo Yi-won… Though it was all in the past, Ji-ho couldn’t help but care. Even if Yi-won was annoying, he was still like a brother.

“Fine, I’ll take them…”

Ji-ho reluctantly accepted the flowers. At that, Yi-won beamed.

“So, does that mean you’ll marry me now?”

“You lunatic, didn’t you just tell me not to assign meaning to flowers?”

“Are you going to accept flowers from just anyone? You’re quite easy, then.”

“I took them because you said we’re family, family!”

“A husband is family too.”

“If you’re going to talk nonsense, take them back.”

“It’s not nonsense, it’s real, but you just don’t believe me. Why don’t you believe me? I love my Ji-ho so much.”

As Shin Ji-ho shuddered, Joo Yi-won burst into laughter.