Hunter's world survival for the lazy- In just four steps

I set my glass back on the table and lean in close to Daelan Crowe—yes, the Daelan Crowe—as if he's my prized possession. Let's face it, he might as well be. Who am I, exactly? And why am I so thrilled by this?

Well, let's rewind. Six months ago, I was just a girl in her baggy shirt, messy bun, and an entirely unrelated world. A world where, believe it or not, I wasn't rubbing elbows with fantasy's finest, but rather dipping my toes in… well, slime. Yes, you heard that right.

Flashback, six months prior:

There I am, standing in my tiny bathroom, toes squirming in some slimy goo. Don't look at me like that—it pays the rent. Literally. A few feet pics here, a couple of artsy angles there, and voilà! Rent, utilities, and an occasional splurge on overpriced coffee, all sorted. Life as a creative entrepreneur, right?

Anyway, after the "photo shoot," I hop in the shower, then slump on my bed in my comfiest oversized shirt, some old shorts, and hit the button for fast food delivery like the modern goddess I am. Just as my food arrives, I figure I'll settle in with some good ol' digital escapism. I open the manhwa app, and—bam—there it is, Hunter's Rise.

Now, if you haven't read it, let me set the scene. Hunter's Rise is your basic, one-size-fits-all manhwa plot: F-class hunter who's talentless, bitter about it, and then—drumroll—he turns back time to redo his life in a world brimming with monster breaks, legendary mana stones, and a painfully obvious redemption arc. Bland main character, yada yada yada. But hey, the art is good, and I'm a sucker for pretty drawings, so I dive in.

Somewhere between page 30 and my first bite of fries, I'm already deep into judgment mode. 

"Oh, poor guy. His girlfriend left him for an A-class hunter. I mean, shocker, right?" I say, rolling my eyes. 

"Hello? The world's basically overrun with giant monsters, and she wants a bit of security and safety. If I were in her shoes, I'd leave too!" I mumble to myself, chomping away.

So, the binge continues. Hours pass, and I'm knee-deep in the latest chapter where Mr. Self-Righteous is on another one of his power trips. Look, it's not my first time around an insufferable protagonist, but this guy's got it all wrong. He's snagging other people's future opportunities left and right, hoarding skill books, mana stones, legendary gear—you name it. Does he share? Nope. All for himself. Oh, and don't get me started on his sense of "justice." Someone so much as looks at him wrong, and he's breaking bones left and right. Total overkill, if you ask me.

And, of course, the parade of female leads. That whole harem situation is just… yeesh. There's the S-class healer, some elf chick, his secretary, a beast-girl… like, we get it, you're strong and desirable. Move on already! You'd think with all that power and all those successful women, he'd at least have some emotional maturity. But no, he's still every bit as insecure as he was on page one.

I finally put my phone down, a little miffed, and head to microwave a second round of food. 

Life's pretty good. Or, rather, ridiculously good. Five years ago, I dropped out of university, packed my bags, and moved to this tiny town after my family disowned me. At first, selling feet pics was just a way to make a little extra cash. Fast forward, and here I am, thriving in my weird, freelance niche. And in two weeks, the apartment complex I invested in will be finished, meaning I'll have passive income. Translation: I'll be set for life.

Not too shabby for a 28-year-old, if I say so myself. I catch my reflection in a nearby surface, and yeah, I'll say it—I'm gorgeous, with a great body to boot.