As we filed into the weapons selection area, Instructor Kim Soohyuk flopped down onto a chair, looking like he was ready for a nap as he watched us scatter like kids let loose in a toy store.

"Any weapon you can think of should be here," he said, as if it wasn’t the most overwhelming statement ever.

I mean, seriously, the room had everything: swords, spears, katanas, sabers, daggers, rapiers, halberds, greatswords, zweihanders, bows, guns, whips, gauntlets... You name it, it was just lying there, chilling like it wasn’t some lethal tool capable of reducing my limbs to a fine mist.

“Stand in front of the weapon you want,” Soohyuk continued. “We’ll give you the training version. But don’t look down on it just because it’s for training. Its market price is 5 million won.”

Five million won? I swallowed hard. My mind flashed back to that time I treated Hajin and Hosup to a meal after the Cube Entrance Ceremony. That bill had taught me more about the value of money than any economics class could.

I scratched my head, standing frozen in front of a dizzying array of weapons. I had no idea what to pick. Everyone else seemed so sure, but me? I was drawing a blank. Sure, if I had a Gift, this would be a no-brainer. Gifts in this world were like superpowers, giving people incredible abilities, and I had… well, absolutely none.

I glanced around at the others. I already knew what the main characters were going to choose, so that helped take some pressure off.

Kim Suho, the protagonist of The Returnee Hero, predictably went straight for the sword. It made sense, given his Swordsaint Gift, which had the Steel attribute. He was always the classic hero—righteous, powerful, boring as hell. But, hey, the sword looked cool.

Then there was Shin Jonghak, the second protagonist, heading over to the spears. I wasn’t too sure about his Gift, but it had to be something dramatic to go along with that giant ego of his.

Chae Nayun, now she was an interesting one. She should’ve been picking a bow, considering that’s what she started with. But if she really was the Chae Nayun from the epilogue of The Novel’s Extra, then she'd end up switching to a sword later on. Sure enough, she went straight for a Greatsword. And I mean a huge sword. The students around her gasped as she effortlessly lifted it with her smaller frame. Physics? Who needs it?

Next up, Rachel. The princess from England, and hands-down my favorite heroine—though, spoiler alert, she didn't end up winning Kim Hajin’s heart. A tragedy, really. She picked up a rapier, naturally. Elegant and sharp, just like her.

And then there was Yoo Yeonha. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if she even had a Gift. If anything, I figured her real superpower was her chaotic imagination. But business skills? Yeah, she was going to be a powerhouse in the future. She chose a whip. I was tempted to make a joke about her future CEO life and “cracking the whip,” but I kept it to myself. No need to add fuel to the fire.

Finally, Kim Hajin. The main protagonist of The Novel’s Extra—and my favorite scene was about to unfold. He was standing awkwardly near the long-ranged weapons, eyes locked on the one weapon no one else would even consider.

The handgun.

God, I loved this moment. It was peak underdog material. The future sniper legend, about to pick up the most unassuming weapon of war while everyone else went for flashy swords, spears, and magic-infused nonsense. I could copy him, sure, but I didn’t want to ruin this moment for him—or for myself, really.

“Choose carefully,” Instructor Kim Soohyuk called out. “Once you pick your weapon, you won’t be able to change it for at least six months.”

I stood there, dazed, still no closer to making a decision. My mind raced, half wanting to grab something ridiculous like a whip just for kicks, but knowing full well I was going to be stuck with it for months. Meanwhile, Kim Soohyuk had noticed Hajin standing near the guns.

“Kim Chundong, why are you standing still?” he asked, snapping Hajin out of his trance.

Hajin’s blank stare shifted to the handgun, the one weapon nobody gave a second glance. He was about to make history, and I was stuck here with my indecision, hoping I didn’t end up picking a damn kitchen knife out of sheer panic.

***

Even a five-year-old could use it to kill someone. That was the convenience of a gun.

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Kim Hajin picked it up, fingers closing around the cool metal grip. It felt familiar, natural—a weapon from the modern world he once knew. A gun didn’t need fancy instructions or a sacred lineage of swordsmanship to wield. Anyone could use it with a simple click. But here? Here, this once-deadly weapon was nothing more than a pathetic lump of metal, barely able to scratch the surface of even the weakest awakened.

Heroes avoided it, not out of fear, but because of its sheer uselessness. The thought of a hero wielding a gun was laughable. It had no magic power, no ability to channel mana, and could barely even graze an opponent with real magic resistance. In this world, the once equalizing force of a firearm was reduced to a joke. The kind of joke no one would risk their life on. You’d be more likely to lose an arm in battle than survive with one of these.

Hajin had no illusions about that. The gun was probably in the Cube’s armory out of courtesy—something to fill the shelves. No one in their right mind would choose it over the refined cold weapons crafted for this world’s brutal combat. But none of that mattered to him.

"This is the most suitable weapon for me," Hajin thought, a quiet conviction settling over him.

It wasn’t just about familiarity; it was practicality. He didn’t know how to wield a sword, a spear, or any of the other medieval death toys littering the room. What he did know was how to handle a gun—military service from his past life had ensured that. At the very least, with this, he could protect himself. And more importantly, he could avoid the visceral, up-close carnage that came with hacking and slashing at someone until they bled out.

The idea of being drenched in someone else’s blood, of seeing their guts spill onto the ground, twisted his stomach. This world was barbaric, full of heroes who tore through flesh like it was paper. But Hajin? He had no intention of stooping to that level. The thought of losing himself in this world’s violent chaos made him sick.

Call it arrogance. Call it naivety.

In his heart, all Hajin wanted was to go home. He had a life before all this. Parents. A home in old Korea. Not this Korea, where dungeons and magic-powered heroes ruled the streets. The only reason he was even pretending to be Kim Chundong was because it was necessary to survive here, but even that left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Kim Chundong."

The instructor’s voice, low and heavy, snapped him out of his thoughts. The other students were staring now, their eyes lingering on him like he’d just done something completely out of the ordinary—which, to be fair, he had. Kim Suho and Shin Jonghak, in particular, were sizing him up, as if trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking.

Hajin hated being the center of attention. He quickly tucked the gun into his waist and stepped away from the weapons rack, trying to ignore the growing stares. He could feel the weight of the metal against his hip, grounding him, his fingers lightly brushing over its contours. The temptation to pull it out and inspect it properly gnawed at him, but he resisted.

The murmurs spread through the students, a ripple of disbelief. Why had someone picked that? Eyes followed him as he moved, whispers buzzing like flies around his ears.

***

Kim Hajin’s weapon was a handgun, plain and simple. So, naturally, the question hit me: what about me?

I mean, if you look at the similarities between me and Hajin—both of us with past lives from modern Earth, no innate Gifts—shouldn't picking up a gun make sense for me too? But then, something tugged at the back of my mind. Wouldn’t that hurt Hajin’s growth? The guy didn’t know it yet, but the more attention he got, the stronger he’d become. If I grabbed a gun too, it might steal some of the spotlight away from him.

And let’s face it, the stronger Hajin was, the safer this world would be. It wasn’t rocket science.

Still, guns were solid weapons. Sure, they were great for ordinary soldiers who couldn’t use magic power. But for Heroes? Guns were basically glorified paperweights. They couldn’t channel mana, didn’t have that deep connection to history, mythology, or whatever ancient lore gave swords and spears their magic. Firearms just didn’t have the right... mystique, I guess.

But Hajin? The guy was a walking cheat code. He had the ability to mutate items, make them stronger. With his Creator's Authority, he could turn ordinary bullets into elemental projectiles—fire, water, light, you name it. Hajin could adapt his gun to any situation, making him far more versatile than most.

Then again… how about me? What did I have? I wasn’t a protagonist. No secret powers to pull out of thin air. Just me, standing there with a blank expression, while Instructor Kim Soohyuk’s eyes drilled into the back of my skull. He wasn’t saying anything, probably hoping I wouldn’t snap and start acting weird again.

“Hmmm…”

I couldn’t take it anymore. If I was going to get out of this with some shred of dignity, I needed help. “Instructor,” I called, my voice wavering. “Do you have any suggestions on what weapon I should use?”

He gave me a long, considering look. “What did you use in the Agent Military Academy?”

Oh boy. That was a problem. I had no idea what Hyon Hyung used back then. But, thankfully, I had done some homework. “Daggers, sir…” I muttered, though the idea of stabbing someone up close wasn’t exactly appealing.

“Then use that,” he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But, sir,” I said, feeling more clueless by the second, “I might cut myself, you know? Shouldn’t I go for something safer? Like a sword? At least it’s got a guard on the hilt…”

Soohyuk’s frown deepened, his forehead creasing into more lines than I thought possible. “You crazy kid…”

I wasn’t even trying to be crazy this time! I was just being practical!

By the end of the weapons selection, I still hadn’t chosen anything. Of course, that meant Soohyuk had to give me a deadline—probably so I wouldn’t hold up the rest of the class with my indecisiveness. I sighed, staring at the remaining weapons.

Maybe I should just go with something ridiculous. A flamethrower, perhaps? Do they even have those here? And if they do… why stop there? Why not go all out and pick a tank? Now that would solve all my problems.