Episode 14 – The Hunter Exam Begins
The hallway leading to the test chamber hummed like a sleeping beast. Kim Do-hyun (김도현) walked with quiet steps, his thoughts stacked like bricks inside his head. The air down here was cold and sharp, not like upstairs. It was not a hallway anymore—it felt like a spine made of concrete, nerves wired with tension.
He came to the thick metal door and stopped. It hissed open with a slow moan. Inside was a room shaped like a cube, tall ceiling, flickering lights, and no warmth. A camera blinked in one corner. A mirror watched in another. It was hard to tell if it was a room... or a trap set in advance.
Do-hyun stepped in with a single word in his mouth.
"Excuse me."
He barely got it out.
Twenty heads turned.
The silence inside was a sharp blade, and it sliced him as soon as he crossed the line.
They stared.
Not like he was new.
Not like he was late.
But like he didn’t belong.
Like he was the fly that just landed in their soup.
Do-hyun adjusted his collar and tried not to shrink under their gazes. There were no smiles in here. No friendly nods. This wasn’t a classroom or a gym. This wasn’t even a normal government facility. This room had something else inside it... pressure. The kind of pressure that made your lungs squeeze without moving.
He could feel it.
A weight pressing down on his skin, on his bones, on the back of his neck like an invisible hand.
The kind of air that knew how to kill.
Some candidates shifted in their seats, leaning back. Some didn’t even move. But all of them had one thing in common—they were watching.
And in the middle of the room, completely untouched by all of it, sat a boy in a grey hood.
Not leaning.
Not talking.
Not blinking.
Just... still.
His face was half-shadowed, but his chin was lifted with quiet defiance. His hands rested gently on the desk in front of him. A blank sheet of paper waited underneath. The kind the proctor had just handed out.
Do-hyun blinked.
Then the air moved.
The proctor dropped the rest of the test sheets onto the center table with a grunt. He had thick shoulders, a round back, and a face that looked like it had been carved out of dried leather.
He grunted again.
Then glared at the hooded kid.
But the boy didn’t flinch. He didn’t raise his head. He didn’t twitch. He just raised two fingers into the air.
There was no sound.
No chant. No words. No warning.
Just fire.
A cool blue flame flickered to life between his fingers.
It danced like a lazy ghost, hovering above the paper.
Then—
The sheet burned to nothing.
Silent.
Clean.
No ash. No smoke. Just heat and emptiness.
The kid still hadn’t opened his eyes.
Like the answers were already written behind his eyelids.
Like the test was beneath him.
Do-hyun felt his throat tighten slightly. Even the air seemed to freeze.
The other test-takers had stopped breathing.
All of them watched.
All of them waited.
And then, a new presence arrived.
Heavy steps shook the floor.
Like someone dragging a mountain through the hallway.
Do-hyun turned just as a giant hand pushed open the door.
The figure that entered made the entire room feel smaller.
The proctor straightened with a jerk.
The others leaned forward without realizing it.
This was not an average man.
He looked like a beast that had learned to walk on two legs.
Broad chest. Shoulders that brushed both sides of the frame. A jaw like it was carved from war itself.
His skin was the color of battle-worn bronze, and his eyes were darker than thunderclouds.
He wore no badge.
He needed none.
He walked like authority.
Spoke like gravity.
"A Class C Hunter will supervise the test," he said.
His voice rolled like distant thunder cracking through stone.
He took another step. The floor moaned beneath his boots.
"It’s simple," he added, voice smooth like a blade on glass.
"A written, then a fight. An aptitude trial."