My attention snaps back to the presentation.
"While it was quite difficult for first-generation Hunters to assess their abilities and track individual growth," the agent says, "you're lucky today. A well-known company developed a system using mana stones and an AI."
He pauses deliberately, and once again a murmur ripples through the room.
"Oh my God!" There's an elbow in my side again. "I can't believe I'm getting my own MySy."
I roll my eyes.
That's the reason everyone is here. Me included. Not because I want to be—but because everyone here could potentially experience an awakening. And that was supposed to happen under controlled conditions, with the help of a MySy.
"MySystem may look like a watch, but inside each of these bands is a supercomputer, connected to the central artificial intelligence MyMy and powered by a mana shard."
He gestures toward the desk where a professor usually stands when this room hosts university lectures instead of candidate briefings. A whole pile of MySy bands lies there.
I hadn't noticed them before. Probably—once again—I was the only one.
Now everyone starts talking at once. So far, no one has experienced an awakening before their twentieth birthday. That's why these candidate briefings are held twice a year: everyone who has just turned twenty receives a MySystem.
It's the government's way of ensuring that as many Hunters as possible experience their awakening in a controlled environment.
Which is also why all of us will be transported to a portal over the next few days, to enter the Labyrinth in small groups—accompanied by professional Hunters.
Assuming it lets us in.
If not: congratulations. You're spared the Hunter life.
If yes: shit. You're now standing in a dungeon, going through your awakening—which can be painful.
The MySy registers your status and becomes your companion from that moment on. Similar to what you know from anime or manga, you can project a screen above the MySy displaying information about your abilities and stats, a dungeon map, or important details about different monsters.
You can also use it to communicate with others inside—and even outside—the dungeon, or browse the online marketplace for Hunters. Naturally, purchased items have to be collected at the respective vendor. Wild things like subspaces or system shops don't exist, of course.
After all, the MySy is technology—not magic.
"Every one of you has been tested for mana," the agent continues. "And everyone present here possesses a mana core. Only humans with a mana core can become Hunters. Even so, the probability that it will happen to you is still relatively low. However, there are ways to artificially increase the likelihood of awakening. I will now explain how."
"After that, you may ask questions."
That's information I already know.
And a topic that doesn't interest me in the slightest.
After all, I don't want to become a Hunter. So there's nothing I need to enhance.
I turn back to my webnovel and tune out everything around me.
Once again, an elbow digs into my side.
"Hey, look up—we can get our MySys now."
I snap back to reality. A blond head of curls is leaning over me, moss-green eyes peering curiously at my phone. His angular eyebrows draw together in surprise.
"Is that Chinese? Japanese?"
"Korean."
"You're reading something in Korean?"
I sigh and stand up. Slipping one strap of my backpack over my shoulder, I start moving down the row toward the stairs. Yes, I read my webnovel in the original language. I'm not just interested in Hunters' abilities — languages are my real hobby. I speak five.
Around me moise stacks on noise until my head feels full.
Too many people. Too many loud people.
"Hey, wait."The guy hurries after me. Apparently, sitting next to each other and exchanging elbows had convinced him we were something like friends.
Annoyed, I shove my phone into my back pocket and dig a lollipop out of my backpack. Cherry. I expertly peel off the wrapper and slip it between my lips. The sweet-and-sour taste floods my mouth immediately. The world softens around the edges.
I'm more the alone type. No matter what it is. People. Noise. Flickering screens. All of it overwhelms me somehow. Sometimes I think I perceive the world more intensely than others do. I also tend to lose myself in my thoughts and completely tune out everything around me.
That's why I'm convinced I wouldn't make a good Hunter. The world beyond the portals—the Labyrinth—is overwhelming. At least, according to the stories. I've never seen it myself. No kind of electronics work down there, not even mana-enhanced ones. It's strange that MySys function at all.
I make a mental note to think about that later and focus back on what's happening around me. I've reached the bracelets.
They come in different colors. But I don't really care what color my MySy is, so I just reach for one at random.
Before my fingers can close around it, a hand stops me.
Confused, I look up.
"This one would suit you much better."
The agent stands in front of me, holding a dark green MySy. I freeze. What is he trying to do?
Then it hits me—he can read my thoughts.
Without consciously deciding to, I switch the language I form my thoughts in. I doubt he can read me like that.
A flicker of confusion crosses his face, and I feel a satisfied smile tug at my lips.
Yeah. I'm not that easy to use.
It feels good to take control back, even just a little.
"Thanks, but the color of my MySy doesn't really matter to me."
Apparently, he's recovered, because he puts on a cheeky grin. Like this was exactly how he expected it to go. "In that case, you can take this one."
Before I can react, he fastens the bracelet around my wrist. The band settles against my wrist like a second layer. I feel a brief sting as the connector pierces my skin, linking the mana stone to my blood.
Yes. It's exactly as bizarre as it sounds.
But apparently, the system needs that to function. You never have to take the bracelet off — it draws energy from us and from the stone. If it were up to me, I would never have put something like this on.
But I don't have much say as someone with a mana core.
Consent, I'm learning, is optional when mana is involved.
"Will I see you at the Awakening Ball tonight?"The agent looks at me expectantly.
"What?"Is he flirting with me?
This is a government agent. And why me? Because I thought he looked good earlier?
I study him again. He's pretty tall. Which doesn't say much, considering I'm rather short.
So — maybe around six foot one. Naturally well-trained. Pretty much all Hunters are. A mana core alters the metabolism slightly, making it easier to build muscle. That is if you actually use it. I've seen mage classes on TV who clearly enjoyed food just as much as I do.
Other than that, the agent has brown curls falling over his ears, hanging into his face in an annoyingly charming way. And steel-blue eyes that seem to look straight into my soul.
Though maybe it only feels that way because I know he can read minds.
All in all, the absolute golden retriever type.You know what I mean.
I tug on my lollipop and then pop it out of my mouth.
"Sir, I think you've got the wrong person. I don't like people being in my head. And I like pointless events even less. You knoe, the kind that are all about self-presentation and showing off power."
I turn around and storm out of the hall. Even if I might have looked pretty cool just now I'm not someone who enjoys offending people. Normally, I don't do that. I usually avoid interacting with people altogether.
"Hey, wait. You're not going to the ball? There's going to be insanely good food!"
The guy — whose name I still don't know — hurries after me.
Well.
That was my coolness gone instantly.
Insanely good food? I live for food. It's the only reason I ever attend events. Birthdays. Weddings. Anything. I go for the food.
Which Lissy always criticizes a little. According to her, you're supposed to go for the people.
But like I said: people and interacting with them aren't really my thing.
I stop short and get shoved forward abruptly.
The guy had been so close on my heels that he couldn't stop in time.
I take a long, deep breath.
He flinches noticeably. "Sorry… I'm kind of clumsy."
Embarrassed, he lifts an arm and rubs the back of his neck, staring anywhere but at me.
"Could've fooled me."My voice is flat, hoping he'll pick up on the fact that I have no interest in further interaction. I don't need someone constantly bumping into me.
Apparently, he's a bit dense in that regard.
He laughs awkwardly, then looks at me, waiting.
I let the silence stretch.It clearly makes him uncomfortable, so he keeps talking.
"My brother says that famous TV chef is in charge of the buffet. You know—the loud one who throws things around."
My ears perk up.
I love that show. Cooking shows in general, but especially that one. Because of the chef's … unconventional personality. And it's been on my bucket list forever to taste his food at least once. Supposedly, he awakened a cooking-related skill.
Shit.
My brain starts doing math.
Who says I have to talk to anyone there?
Go in. Eat. Disappear.
A big part of me doesn't want to go to the ball.But an even bigger part wants the food.
My stomach growls in encouragement. Traitor.
And before the logical part of me can say no, the word slips out of my mouth.
"Okay.See you there."
With that, I turn around and leave the building as fast as possible.
Only once I'm outside do I realize that I still don't know his name.