Chapter 32 – Rotom Commercial District (４)

About thirty minutes passed.

“We will now begin the test for Mages.”

A man spoke from up ahead.

He was an NPC, clad in knight’s attire.

“Mages will proceed with the test by Level. First, from Level 60…”

Just then, someone approached and whispered something in his ear.

“Hm? Ah, I see. The test was originally set to start at Level 60, but we will now conduct it focusing on Adventurers who are Level 50 and above.”

‘…’

Gijun realized that Level 50 referred to him.

At the same time, he understood he was the only applicant in the Level 50 range.

Not a single person at Level 50.

At that, the surrounding Users began to murmur.

“Level 50?”

“Someone’s applying for the Subjugation Team at Level 50?”

“Are they insane? I know Level 50 is the minimum, but what kind of madman…”

Reactions of disbelief.

And reactions that clearly branded him as out of his mind.

And it made sense — even Level 65 was barely scraping the minimum requirement.

That Level range was what you needed just to hunt in the Rotom Commercial District in the first place, and for a Subjugation Team, you normally had to be well past Level 60.

“Their Equipment’s probably trash too, right?”

“If they’re not even Level 60, they must be stuck with gear that has no Level requirement.”

That was another problem.

In Real Spirit, items started having Level requirements from Level 60 onward.

Even if someone grew fast through Cash Purchases before that, from Level 60 onward you couldn’t just instantly equip high-grade Equipment.

It was a system designed to prevent anyone from becoming infinitely strong by throwing endless real money at the game.

‘Yeah, I’d better keep my head down.’

At the same time, Gijun was thinking.

Here, even more than anywhere else, he absolutely couldn’t act out.

If they found out he was Level 50, every eye in the place would lock onto him in an instant.

‘Anyway — time to move.’

Gijun headed toward the spot where Mages between Level 60 and Level 70 were gathering.

“The first test is a marksmanship test. You just need to hit the target 30 meters away.”

A Knight, having confirmed all the Mages were assembled, announced.

At his words, the Mages’ gazes shifted.

There was the target.

Gijun was a little taken aback.

Not because it was hard, of course.

‘…This is way too easy.’

The difficulty was absurdly low.

For Gijun, hitting a target at 30 meters was as easy as breathing.

Throughout the Academy, his magical marksmanship scores had always been at the very top.

The number of targets he’d missed by graduation could be counted on two hands.

‘Time to hold back.’

So Gijun decided to sandbag it.

Hit about seven, he figured — that’d put him somewhere in the middle of the pack.

“First group of Mages, please step up to the line.”

While Gijun was mulling that over, the Mages were called and lined up at the firing line.

‘Still — might as well see what they’ve got.’

He was curious how good the other Users actually were.

He hadn’t gotten a real chance to watch them play in earnest yet.

“Begin. Fire at will!”

At the Knight’s shout, the Mages started casting their spells.

Whoosh!

Mana rippled over the bodies of the Mages.

Watching them, Gijun was taken aback again.

‘Right. That’s how Mages are supposed to look.’

Casting takes about one to two seconds.

And that was just for a basic spell.

For someone who’d been spamming Fireball at an absurd speed, it was a painfully awkward sight.

The Mages, having finished their casts, launched their spells at the targets.

Boom! CRASH! RUMBLE!

Spells of various elements exploded across the range.

‘…Holy shit.’

Gijun was stunned again.

‘Is this for real?’

Not because they were good.

Because they were that bad.

‘Three people.’

Only three Users had actually hit the target on the first volley.

And even one of those was a lucky graze.

‘…I’m going to lose my mind.’

For someone who’d been the Ace of the Academy, and who’d done real Dungeon runs with real Superhumans back in the real world — even if it was just a small guild — this was nothing short of a shock.

The shooting continued.

The first line’s round came to an end.

The most accurate Player had a 60% hit rate.

Six out of ten shots on target.

‘…Hah.’

Worse than the 70% he’d set as his bare minimum benchmark.

The rest of the round wasn’t any different.

Every now and then, someone would land 80 or even 90 percent, and the crowd would erupt in cheers of astonishment.

Naturally, not a single person had ever achieved one hundred percent accuracy.

‘The average seems to hover just under sixty percent.’

Come to think of it, that wasn’t a bad figure at all.

Even real-world Superhumans had an accuracy rate of around seventy percent.

Considering Superhumans trained all day on nothing else, ordinary people showing this level of accuracy was hardly poor.

Soon enough, Gijun’s turn arrived.

Gijun stepped onto the firing line.

Standing there, he had no choice but to revise his plan.

‘Let’s just hit six.’

No matter how much he wanted to hide his skill, his pride wouldn’t let him dip below fifty percent.

So he decided to aim for sixty percent accuracy—enough to show competence without drawing any real attention.

But then—

[Seeker-exclusive Achievement Activated.]

[Firing-Line Accuracy]

– Strike targets with Fireball. (0/10)

– Reward: All Stats +5 / Class Quest

‘…Ah.’

The Seeker-exclusive Achievement flashed before his eyes.

The moment he saw it, his head began to throb.

Because the condition demanded a full one hundred percent accuracy.

But the reward was something Gijun could never refuse.

‘A Class Quest?’

Literal.

This reward was a Class Quest—no small thing.

On top of that, it came with a stat boost to all abilities.

Libre spoke up too.

[I smell opportunity.]

‘Can’t be helped.’

With that, Gijun made up his mind.

There was no reason to hesitate.

After laying eyes on a Class Quest as a reward, how could anyone possibly say no?

[You must perform well, my master.]

“Don’t worry.”

Gijun replied to Libre’s words.

A single phrase, without a shred of hesitation.

With that, the knight confirmed every mage was on the firing line and shouted:

“Begin firing!”

The knight’s cry rang out.

The mages began casting their spells.

As they channeled their magic, each of them thought the same thing.

‘I’m the best here.’

“Don’t get cocky, you pathetic scrubs.”

‘Big bro’s about to show you what real power looks like.’

…or so they thought.

It was true: Gijun had hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was wise to reveal his full strength.

But the instant he saw the Achievement’s reward, all reason to doubt vanished.

A Class Quest, plus five points to every stat.

Only a fool would hesitate over a reward this monumental.

‘No way I’m letting this slip away.’

Whoosh!

A Fireball took shape above Gijun’s hand.

He launched it.

Boom!

The instant Gijun’s Fireball struck the target, it shattered into splinters, exploding outward.

A hit, of course.

The Fireball flew exactly where he intended and lodged itself perfectly.

To Gijun, it was utterly unremarkable—a result so natural it barely registered.

[Truly my master!]

Only five people, including Gijun, succeeded on their first shot.

Gijun was the only one whose shot had found its mark dead center.

“Please wait while the targets regenerate!”

A knight’s voice rang out.

At those words, the shattered targets began to restore themselves, almost as if they’d never been hit.

This, too, was eerily real.

A grinding sound filled the air.

All around, fragments of destroyed targets floated up into the void, coalescing back into pristine shapes.

Once the knight confirmed every target had fully regenerated, he shouted again.

“Begin firing!”

And with that, the shooting resumed.

“This time… I’ll hit it!”

Shouts of determination echoed from somewhere—

Boom! Boom! Whump! Kaboom!

—followed by the same explosions as before.

“Aaaaaagh!”

“Nice!”

“That’s it!”

“Ah, dammit!”

Voices crossed in a mix of elation and despair.

In the midst of it all, Gijun hurled a Fireball toward his target without any particular effort.

Boom!

The result was, naturally, a direct hit.

“…?”

“….”

That moment, a subtle weight of gazes turned toward Gijun.

At this point, even the others were starting to sense something.

A premonition that he was different somehow.

It’s just luck.

Come on, it’s only two shots.

Of course, they didn’t think much of it.

Literally, it was just the second volley.

Plenty of people had landed their first two or three shots during the run.

Soon, the targets regenerated again, and the shooting resumed.

Boom! Kaboom!

The same scene played out again.

Some cheered, others groaned.

And then—

BOOM!

—Gijun’s Fireball once again obliterated the target.

[That felt satisfying!]

Libre was bouncing around beside him, practically buzzing with excitement.

Gijun wore a faint, conflicted smile.

It’s good, but… I’m not sure I should feel good about it.

Now he could feel far more open stares.

Not just from the Users on his own sand row, but from those outside it too.

…If I’m already drawing this much attention, it’s going to be a burden.

To draw so many eyes with just three shots.

And of course, as time passed, more and more of those gazes settled on Gijun.

Boom! Thump! KABOOOM!

“….”

“…Holy shit, what is that?”

“Who is that guy?”

Seven shots now.

Gijun’s Fireball hadn’t missed a single one.

Now he could even feel the knights’ eyes on him.

Gazes full of expectation, directed straight at him.

The targets regenerated once more.

The result went without saying.

KABOOOM!

“Huh?”

“Eight shots?”

“That guy just landed eight in a row!”

“No joke, right?”

Gijun’s current accuracy rate sat at 80%.

By now, everyone had started gathering near Gijun’s firing lane, openly gawking.

“Was he a baseball prospect?”

“Maybe he’s a real Superhuman.”

All sorts of guesses about Gijun’s identity swirled through the crowd.

Of course, even among those who speculated he was a Superhuman, no one blamed him.

He hadn’t done anything wrong, so what was there to fault?

Anyway, the ninth target regenerated, and the shooting resumed.

Fwoosh—

The instant Gijun’s Fireball split the air.

“No way?”

“…Did he hit again?”

Everyone’s gaze locked on, unblinking.

In that moment, silence itself seemed to settle, so completely were they all watching Gijun’s Fireball.

Of course, the outcome was obvious.

Craaack!

“Whoaaa!”

“That’s insane!”

“He’s cracked, right?”

The moment even the ninth target crashed down in shattered pieces, cheers erupted from everywhere.

“I think that guy really is a Superhuman.”

Someone was already convinced Gijun was a Superhuman.

“Hey, you think being a Superhuman means you’re good at magic? I know a Superhuman who got kicked out of his guild for missing spells!”

Of course, there were dissenters.

Alright. Just take it easy.

But in that moment, Gijun actually let go of his tension.

After all, he wasn’t that famous a Superhuman right now.

Among Superhumans, he was remembered as ‘Oh, that guy?’ at best.

Quite a few people remembered him, sure, but among non-Superhumans, hardly anyone knew who he was.

Don’t make a fuss.

Right.

Why worry about a future that hadn’t even arrived yet?

Just focus on what I need to do now.

As he was thinking that, the tenth target materialized.

Bang! BAM BAM BAM!

Explosions burst out from all sides.

Even the mages standing in the same firing lanes had finished their shooting quickly.

They were just as curious, after all.

Will he really hit it?

Is a sharpshooter being born here?

100% accuracy? How can I not watch this?

They were more curious whether Gijun would actually hit every target than about their own results.

“Hurry up and shoot!”

“Stop rushing, you bastards!”

“Dude, I bet money on that guy!”

“Me too!”

“The underdog always wins!”

By now, a betting pool had even started over Gijun’s success rate.

‘…Unbelievable.’

Gijun let out a hollow laugh.

Well, it wasn’t that surprising.

A 100% hit rate wasn’t common even among Superhumans.

At the Academy, his shooting skill had been so impressive that students and professors alike would gather to watch in amazement.

Gijun then threw his Fireball.

The instant the Fireball traced an arc across the air—

“Please hit!”

“Miss, please!”

“O God of Fireballs!”

Desperate shouts burst out from all sides.

And then.

Craaack!

The target exploded outward.