The Renegade Sculptor
Thirsty, so step aside. The Milky Way scenery, now somewhat familiar. Countless stars fade away, leaving just one that drifts toward me. At last, a star glowing brightly in crimson light. With it comes a mischievous voice.
The Sculptor Who Turned His Back on the World, Park Jeonghyeon
—Consider it an honor. I'll sculpt you alive.
Bloodshot eyes thick with madness. Pitch-black clothes stained here and there with flecks of blood. A tool belt slung around his waist, loaded with chisels, sculpting hammers, and all sorts of carving gear. His name is none other than the Sculptor Who Turned His Back on the World, Park Jeonghyeon.
My third 2-star consciousness was locked in as a sculptor.
My vision snapped back to the front door.
Actor, fisherman, and now sculptor? Does the me from another world only do artsy stuff?
Wait, does fishing even count as arts? Anyway. Another non-combat job. At this point, it's not my luck—maybe 2-stars are just non-combat only?
"Still, looks more useful than actor or fisherman."
Above all, those eyes stood out. Hollow, lifeless voids. Eyes that had weathered countless hardships and finally given out. Just looking at them gave me a rough sense of what life this sculptor's consciousness had lived. I'd had eyes like that in my past life too, sometimes.
"Let's check it out."
I synchronized with the sculptor's consciousness without hesitation.
The Sculptor Who Turned His Back on the World, Park Jeonghyeon
With that, my clothes shifted to pitch-black garb, my body subtly changing. A bit slimmer than now, but no sense of lost strength or mana. Probably on par with the fisherman's stats.
"Hm. Feels like this."
My speech turned eerily calm. So calm it almost dripped with helplessness.
"Might be useful."
I nodded, savoring the sculptor's experiences and expertise flooding my mind. I gripped the bloodstained chisel and mallet from the tool belt, rolling them over my palm. First time touching carving tools, yet they spun like extensions of my body. That told me everything: this consciousness fought enemies with the array of sculpting tools on the belt.
"Way deadlier than the previous ones?"
Not a pure combat job, but decent enough. Felt a bit relieved. I nodded slightly at the satisfying result, then slowly opened the front door to tackle the daily quest—
"Ah."
Forgot to desync for a second there. Snapping to, I released the sculptor's consciousness. My clothes reverted in a blink, the chisel and mallet vanishing without a trace.
Truth be told, doing the daily quest synced wouldn't cause external issues.
But it'd be embarrassing as hell.
Imagining myself working out in sculptor gear made my head shake on instinct. Better to sync only when needed—for my mental health. I'm no exhibitionist. Plus, these consciousnesses are my secret weapons, known only to me. No point flashing my aces for no reason.
"Let's get this over with."
I shoved the door open with vigor.
Daily Quest: ‘Gazing at an Even Better Self’ — SUCCESS!
"...Whew, good."
Jogging the park path, I slowed at the quest-clear message. Clutching my knees, I gulped air in and out. Fresh air from the tree-packed park tickled my lungs as it escaped.
Close to the dorms, perfect spot.
Especially here—unlike my past life, a strange leisure welled up. Like freshness blooming in my soul.
"Eh, that's too poetic."
Chucking awkwardly, I uncapped my water bottle and drank—
"Hm?"
Already empty. Must've drained it earlier. Lingering thirst brought mild annoyance. Then I recalled a cafe glimpsed on the way here.
Thirsty anyway—might as well check it out.
If it's good, I can come back. Worth a test run. Resolved, I trudged toward it. Night helped—my face stayed unrecognized, no fans spotting me. Five minutes later, I reached the cafe from memory.
Warm heater air felt nice. Kiosk brimmed with menus. Coffee's bitter, nope. Hm, grapefruit ade? Craving something new, I ordered the unfamiliar drink.
"Fuuu...."
Slumping into an empty chair, I sighed deeply. Body pleasantly weary, heater blowing—eyes kept drooping. If only this were my bedroom. Can't sleep... should crash at home...
"Fuck, everyone hands up!! Don't move!!"
The sudden roar shattered my daze. Grimacing, I turned toward the voice. A masked man held a girl, dagger to her throat.
"Don't wanna see this bitch die? Stay put!!"
His shout screamed intent to rob the place. Situation clear.
"You there! Bring all the cash here! Now!!"
The masked man bellowed at the staff.
"Y-Yes!? Uh, um, but..."
"What's the problem? Think I'm joking?!"
"N-No, it's just... we mostly do cards, so not much cash."
Silence blanketed the cafe at the staffer's words.
...Did this idiot not even check that before robbing here?
"...F-Fine, bag those up!! Fuck!"
His moves screamed low IQ. Stocky build suggested decent superhuman strength, though.
"Hm."
Situation pissed me off. Ethically, robbery sucks—but mostly, my order was delayed. This ends two ways: robber succeeds and bolts, or cops nab him. Either way, my drink gets stalled or canceled.
Wish I could squash it quick. Thirsty here.
"Looks manageable."
Eyeing the robber up and down, I muttered. Tough in this body maybe, but consciousness sync fixes that. Real issue: the hostage. If I jump in and she dies, blame falls on me.
Tsking softly, I eyed the girl. Clear golden blonde, one blue eye, one green. Snow-white skin, short stature.
"Hm?"
Wait. Seen her before. Fingering my thigh to snag the nagging memory—
The girl spoke.
"Y-You fiend! Dare lay hands on this noble Dark Flame Master? Truly, you must not value your wretched life!"
Ah, that chuuni vibe. Raichel Bernhardt. Major side character in the main story's endgame. Pureblood vampire. Hiding her identity for reasons. She could crush this clown in a blink, but circumstances force her to play hostage. Robber picked the wrong girl—pureblood vamps regenerate from shallow cuts like that. And from my past life's scum-reading experience, guy's arm and lips tremble nonstop. Can't even stab straight.
Perfect chance to test the sculptor's power firsthand. Who knows—might unlock an achievement. Alright. Time to carve this up.
"Excuse me."
"Y-Yes?"
"Call the cops for me, yeah?"
I said to the trembling guy next to me, standing from my chair.
"Wh-What?! You pretty-boy bastard!! I said don't move!!"
"Shut your trap—public place."
The Sculptor Who Turned His Back on the World, Park Jeonghyeon
Synced, my outfit and build shifted to the sculptor's. Body strengthened, mana surged. Did I look threatening? The robber's eyes shook as he yelled again.
"One more step and this bitch's head rolls! I said!!"
Yeah, right. Like you'd do it. Stepping forward, fiddling with my tool belt.
"This'll be fun."
I drew the bloodstained chisel and hurled it at him.