What is talent?
Many people say talent is like a flower.
If you keep watering and feeding it, someday it will bloom.
That when the time comes, it's sure to blossom.
But what if…
What if the flower doesn't bloom when I think it should?
How long am I supposed to just sit around and wait?
And who is going to whisper to me when that time finally arrives?
I can't help but wonder.
Do I even have a seed of talent planted inside me?
Even now, in this situation, I haven't managed to awaken a single shred of it.
"Kyaaaaaahhhhhh!"
"Uwaaaaagh!"
Right in front of me, a monster called a Balrog stood tall.
And it wasn't just standing—it was slaughtering Korea's strongest S-class Awakeners in this dungeon as if they were nothing.
"Goddamn it!"
My instincts screamed at me.
If I stayed here, I'd die too.
The Balrog's Temple.
A dungeon entrance had opened beside the Han River.
It had been prepared as the perfect promotional stage for Korea's top hunters—a dungeon measured as A-rank.
But the assessment was wrong. It was an unclassified dungeon.
Meaning: at least S-rank, minimum.
What was supposed to be a safe, carefully managed site was now a deathtrap.
'So… if a dungeon break happened, that means every single S-rank hunter inside was wiped out, right?'
The spot I'd claimed—the so-called perfect vantage point to interview hunters after they cleared the raid—
was now nothing more than a perfect gravesite.
'Damn you, Chief Hwang, you bastard!'
All because he nagged me about getting the scoop.
Because he pushed me, shoved me, saying this was the place to be.
I should've gone to cover some rising rookie hunters instead.
I was sick to death of S-class hunters anyway. So why the hell did I follow them here?
'No. No way. I can't die here.'
I didn't claw my way through life just to die like this.
Then—crack!
A stone flying out of nowhere smashed against the back of my head.
"Argh!"
Blinding pain shot through my skull.
Sticky liquid ran down from my scalp, clouding my vision.
My body screamed at me: death is right here.
'Seriously… this is it?'
Rage burned in me.
I'd lived so damn hard. I'd tried.
Every day lugging a camera around as a reporter, getting cursed at as a worthless tabloid leech,
sleeping on sidewalks when I had to.
'They all said I had S-class potential…'
Every aptitude test, the result had been the same: S-class talent.
I endured this filthy, miserable journalist life because of those words. Because I believed them.
But the reality?
'Hey, Baek Kang-hyun, when are you going to wake up? Still dreaming?
What, you'll awaken right before you die or something?
Give it up, man. Forget being a hunter and just live your useless life.'
The truth was plain: I was talentless.
The people who'd once treated me like the "future S-class" all turned away, sneering at me for never awakening.
S-class this, S-class that—but in the end, I was nothing.
'Then why did it even say S-class in the first place?!'
All my life, I believed.
That someday the light would come for me.
That once I awakened, I could climb higher and higher.
That I'd become a hunter the world revered.
I told myself that when it happened, I'd wipe the smug smiles off every bastard who ever doubted me.
That was the only pillar that kept me standing, day after day.
But here I was, at the very brink of death… and still nothing.
'Damn it! Damn it all!'
All I could do was run.
No matter how much I waited, no matter how much I tried, my talent never bloomed.
Even now, I couldn't manage a single pathetic counterattack.
This was my reality.
'Why the hell is it only me?! I worked hard! I really did!'
I trained like mad, even when people laughed at me.
I saved every scrap of intel, studied every hunter and every skill.
I prepared myself for the day my awakening finally came.
Everyone told me—told me over and over—that I had S-class potential.
But now, at the tail end of my twenties, nothing.
I always told myself:
It's just not the right time yet. Wait a little longer. It'll come.
So I built myself up—my body, my mind, my knowledge.
So that whatever talent finally arrived, I could handle it.
And I waited. And waited.
But—
"Kyahahhhhhh!"
The Balrog's roar shook the dungeon.
And I was still nothing.
"Ha… haha… this is insane."
The monster spotted me fleeing.
It spread its wings and charged in my direction.
Of course it had to be me.
Of course I'd be the unlucky bastard it chased.
Fwoooosh!
Flames erupted from its body, consuming the dungeon around me.
'…Is this really it?'
My lungs burned, my legs gave out, and everywhere around me turned to ash.
I couldn't outrun it.
Death pressed down on me.
'…Talent.'
I thought—at least, at the very end, please let me awaken.
But even staring death in the eye, there was nothing.
Silence.
Until the very last moment, my "talent" stayed buried.
'So this is it? Really? After everything?'
To die without proving anything, after a lifetime of being mocked?
To never show them, never shut them up?
Just staring up at the sky, until the very end?
"No! Hell no!"
I refused.
After dedicating my life to this, I couldn't end like this.
Then—
Vwoooom!
A vast yellow circle appeared before me.
'…A Warp Gate?'
I knew that form. I'd seen it countless times.
That meant—there was still a way.
At least I didn't have to die like this.
'Yeah. I'm not dying here.'
I sprinted for the gate, every ounce of strength poured into my legs.
Not just running to live—running ready to die.
"Kyaaaaahhh!"
Flames licked at my back. The heat seared me.
But if I stayed, I was dead for sure.
Whatever was beyond that gate—
I didn't know, I didn't care.
It had to be better than this.
'Fine! Let it be whatever it wants!'
No more hesitation.
I threw myself into the Warp Gate.
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