Chapter 13

Some say life is the C between B and D.

Birth, Death… and Choksu (tentacles).

What it meant was simple.

The more tentacles you had in life, the easier things got.

“Who cleaned the training hall already? It’s shining.”

“I used it this morning and cleaned up afterward.”

“Hayan, about that weapon you borrowed last time…”

“Here it is! While repairing it, I coated the blade with a venom that melts monster hide. It’ll last a month at least, so please use it freely.”

“Uh… thanks.”

About a month after I joined the Special Unit, rumors spread through the Bureau—
Division 3 had gained an S-rank rookie.

An Awakened who threw himself at every chore with a smile, always showing respect to his seniors.

They praised me as a rare, passionate recruit in this day and age.

Some even whispered stranger tales: that I must have six eyes and twelve hands to handle so much at once.

That someone peeked into my room late at night and saw me chatting with countless tentacles sprouting from the walls and ceiling.

That I’d once been caught trying to secretly lick Deputy Commander Yoo Se-byeol’s shoes, only to vanish in a spray of black ink.

Still, even though Division 3 had taken the heaviest losses that year, people said it hardly felt understaffed thanks to me.

Of course, not everyone agreed.

“Hey, you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Come here. Why’s the cleaning in this room like this?”

The one holding the spear was Kang Ha-neul.

A second-year Special Unit member, Mid-Level rank.

His epithet was “Spear of Thunderclouds.”

Apparently, he was the brother of the newly recruited “Spear of Thunder” in Division 2. A famous family of Awakened, like Yoo Se-byeol’s.

“Look at this—bathroom’s a mess. And what’s with all these lotions?”

“They’re products with good skin-care ingredients. Very popular among the seniors.”

“You bought this stuff with division funds?”

“I only paid for the bottles. The contents I refilled myself. The method is a secret.”

Because he’d been in the hospital with food poisoning during the Gate Corruption incident, he was still able to act normally now.

Unlike most seniors, who treated me warmly, he picked at me constantly.

Maybe it was because I’d once asked, “If your power is ‘Thundercloud,’ is it like the Smoke-Smoke Fruit from One Piece?”

Honestly, how could I not? He literally hurled spears like drifting smoke.

“Can’t believe someone like you got in.”

“I did decently enough on the tests.”

“You were banking on the second round, weren’t you? Riding the news that Deputy Commander Yoo barely made it back alive from that Gate.”

“……”

Looked like I’d really gotten under his skin. He glared at the slime I’d made—enzymes from my Tentacle of Digestion, useful for detox and mana recovery—as if it were filth.

“I’ll be watching you. If you’re useless in a raid, I’ll have you transferred out. So be careful.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And check the mission board if you haven’t yet. If you don’t have peer evaluations by the end of probation, you’re out.”

“Missions? Understood. Take care on your way.”

Still, even that was just another small hurdle on my path to securing influence within the Unit. I bowed ninety degrees, keeping perfectly polite, and thought I’d handled the situation well. But someone else, who had wanted to recruit me, grumbled on my behalf.

“Ugh, what a pain. I passed up two Oaths to bring you into Division 3, and this is the treatment you get? Really stingy, don’t you think?”

“Cheon So-baek? Since when were you watching?”

“Since just now. I left the meeting, and your voices carried all the way down the hall.”

That rolling, lilting voice—equal parts kindness and mockery—was unmistakable.

It was the Commander of the Firepower Support Unit.

For most mages, having a private chat with the disciple of the Heavenly Immortal and heir of the Red Tower would be a dream.

But for me, it was nothing but pressure—someone like Cheon So-baek could easily recognize Extreme Magic.

Still, after refusing her Oath and joining another division, I couldn’t just walk away without at least some courtesy.

“Why’d you join Division 3? The atmosphere there’s a mess right now. They don’t have the capacity to take care of rookies.”

“Well, it’s the only place I passed.”

“I told you I’d give you an Oath. Did their commander offer you something even bigger? But that’s impossible now, since she’s not even part of The Old Gods’ Wound anymore.”

“That’s… a bit difficult to explain. I made a promise to keep the details of my recruitment confidential.”

So I could lick Yoo Se-byeol’s feet. Not exactly something I could say out loud, so I brushed it off vaguely. But a mage’s obsession and curiosity weren’t things you could shake so easily.

“Ugh, I still want you. Such a loyal recruit, snatched up by a gorilla who only knows how to swing a chunk of iron.”

“What are you doing?”

“Wearing down your durability. Once you’re broken and she throws you out, I’ll pick you up and fix you.”

She tapped my shin lightly with her small foot. In today’s world, where the value of a promising Awakened was sky-high, this woman’s mercantile instinct was unmistakable.

The vibration even stirred Mala-nim from their nap. Irritated, they peeked out from under my sleeve. Before Cheon So-baek’s sharp eyes could notice the pale tentacle, I hurriedly raised my arm and checked the watch on my wrist.

The smartwatch screen lit up, showing my Bureau profile.

Every time I looked at it, it amazed me. Back then, I’d had to line up at counters, take jobs manually, and trade mana stones once the work was done. Times had changed. The system had evolved. For someone who’d been cut off from civilization for so long, it was all strange.

But this worked out nicely. It gave me a reason to excuse myself before Mala-nim’s irritation boiled over.

“Right, I almost forgot—I haven’t checked the mission board yet. One of the seniors told me I need to take at least one job.”

“You’ve been here a month and haven’t done a single mission yet?”

“I’m not great with electronics. I heard the watch buzzes when I’m dispatched, but it’s never gone off… Did I mess something up?”

“…What?”

Cheon So-baek let out a long sigh and explained how things worked in the Unit.

Outside of official Bureau mobilizations, members could act freely.

But every month, you had to complete at least one mission from the board to fulfill your quota.

“Even rookies have to do one a month. It’s already been nearly four weeks since you got your posting. You don’t have much time left.”

“Ah… then should I just pick something at random?”

“Not yet. Fix your profile first.”

“Why?”

“Because at 0 years of experience, you’re not allowed to go on-site alone.”

So that’s how it was.

No wonder I kept running into gaps—I knew nothing about how this world worked anymore.

I followed Cheon So-baek’s advice and updated my profile. Set it to public, and packed my “Bio” full of every skill and talent I could advertise.

The Special Unit relied heavily on coordination between divisions, so profiles mattered. That was also why the system included “Peer Evaluations,” reviews written by partners after joint missions. According to Cheon So-baek, they weighed heavily in performance reports—meaning good ones could only help me.

¹

Perfect. This would definitely stand out more than the others.

I smiled in satisfaction after finishing the update. Cheon So-baek watched me like a mother worried about her kid getting their first smartphone.

“Seriously, what’s wrong with your unit? Not telling the rookie anything at all.”

“Well, the Deputy Commander’s busy, and everyone else has been tied up with treatment.”

“Ugh, that place is hopeless. Anyway, be careful. The listed difficulty’s only an estimate. Most accidents happen because teammates can’t coordinate properly during missions.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once she left, I scrolled through the mission board.

A long list of Bureau-assigned cases: abandoned Gates to clear, wanted criminals to capture, guild disputes to mediate. Some sounded interesting, but none had anything to do with Archdukes. Not surprising—if an Incarnation appeared, it wouldn’t show up here. The whole Unit would be put on emergency alert.

“‘Find a runaway pet monster cat, estimated difficulty: Special-class’… huh.”

『Fear not.』

“I mean, it’d be nice to have one someday… No, no, like you said, Mala-nim, I shouldn’t waste my time on this. Still, peer evaluations from teammates are socially important.”

『Fear not.』

“Doesn’t matter who I get paired with. Most missions I can handle solo anyway.”

While I scrolled endlessly, an alert popped up at the top right corner. Someone had checked my profile and sent me a chat.

Could it be a party invite already? Nope. A nuisance.

— Division 3, Kang Ha-neul: Hey, you. You’re the rookie this year, right? Think this is some kind of anonymous forum?

— SenaChok: Huh?

— Division 3, Kang Ha-neul: Stop embarrassing our division and change your ID to your real name and affiliation. And what’s with that intro? Reviews? Are you insane?

— SenaChok: I prefer this ID over my real name. And with how many people ghost on reviews these days, you have to write it like this.

— Division 3, Kang Ha-neul: Hah, unbelievable. Kids like you only learn after getting beaten.

— Division 3, Kang Ha-neul: Get to Training Ground 3 right now.

— Division 3, Kang Ha-neul: If you’re not here in five minutes, everyone above and below you is running laps.

There’s no way he’d recognize me just from the profile. He was just pulling rank because I was listed under the Frontline Breakthrough Unit.

Still, he was also the only one who’d bothered to warn me about taking a mission. Maybe “that senior who missed dispatch because he was stuck in the bathroom”… no, “Spear of Thunderclouds” really was dead serious about unit discipline.

“Brother, what’s the matter?”

“Someone’s looking for you, Alexei. Can you head to Training Ground 3?”

“They’re looking for me?”

“Yeah, said they were the one who doodled tentacles on your back yesterday. Told you to come if you want revenge.”

Well, when a senior calls, you don’t ignore it. I quickly sent Alexei in my place and went back to fiddling with the watch.

As I browsed further down the board, something finally caught my eye.