Someone's Beacon (3)
In the end, there was no choice but to turn down Serpina's proposal. Me running the armband for my own fan gallery? Doesn't that sound ridiculous? Even if no one else knows, it'd make me cringe too hard. It's been years since I became a woman, but it's like how I still can't bring myself to wear a skirt out of pointless embarrassment. This was a matter of personal disposition.
And the idea of just slapping on an admin tag and doing nothing? Hard to swallow that too. After all, the fan gallery and I are practically symbiotic. If they thrive, I thrive—so filling a key admin spot with a figurehead who doesn't even participate is inefficient.
The points Serpina offered are the same deal right now. As she said, they're points meant for me anyway. With the commission fee involved, me intercepting them in the middle would just be a creative loss since I can't even use them properly.
Finally, regarding Serpina's last point about turning me into a named figure, I promised to handle it carefully and in moderation. I'm no stranger to internet communities. I know all too well how groups crumble from internal cliques. From the start, with my identity hidden, I had no intention of getting close to any users.
Community activity, huh.
The sudden one-on-one with Serpina ended there, but it left me with plenty to mull over. Until now, I'd mostly just lurked in the gallery—asking simple questions now and then while adapting. But Fate Road, this massive community lurking in the shadows I hadn't fully grasped, was far more intertwined with us than I'd thought, wielding real influence.
Maybe paying more attention to it—beyond just tower climbing—could yield even greater gains. Especially since, even if I refuse, they might keep watching me anyway.
"Reina-nim. Um... a message from Sylvia just arrived. It's weird to lead with this right after waking up, but I couldn't keep her waiting."
"Oh, right—there's still that unfinished business."
As I stirred from sleep, Kim Ji-eun approached with an awkward expression. Recalling the thing I'd briefly blacked out on, I chuckled softly. Back when I first got the duel challenge, I was burning to win and humiliate Sylvia for sure. But now? That rage and desire had dulled a bit.
Put in perspective, compared to the countless watchers eyeing us, both Sylvia and I were just adorable kids squabbling. Though seeing those kids' fights hype up gambling and fervor made it clear it wasn't that simple.
"Heard you got badly hurt, but looks like you're all healed."
"...You're one to talk."
Our reunion with Sylvia was far calmer and quieter than before. She'd come alone to our guild HQ, showing no emotional turbulence—like she'd already sorted her feelings. Even Kim Ji-eun had been sent away, leaving us utterly alone in the silent room.
Sylvia set down her teacup and spoke in a trembling voice.
"I acknowledge my defeat, so I won't break my promise. But answer one question."
"What is it?"
"I already knew you'd gone down to Layer 30 after the last strategy failure and blazed a new path."
Glancing hesitantly, Sylvia began haltingly—then abruptly stood, dropping to her knees before me without a second thought. Unlike my grab-whatever's-comfy style, she didn't care that her elegant everyday dress wrinkled and dirtied against the floor.
"So please, tell me even a little. The enlightenment you gained. The way to break through these blocked meridians..."
Sylvia's ample chest pressed to the ground, her forehead touching down in deepest bow. True to her word, she was doing to herself exactly what she'd planned to make me do if she won.
Staring blankly at her prostrated form, I watched her slender, exposed shoulders tremble. A mix of humiliation, shame, and myriad emotions quivered there.
Have I seen enough?
I crossed my arms deliberately, saying nothing for a moment, just gazing down. It wasn't like I was savoring her humiliation. Sure, it felt satisfying inside, but any intent to torment her had long evaporated.
Sylvia probably thought no one but me witnessed her shame—but she'd be wrong. It was already preserved, destined to circulate eternally on Fate Road.
This show was for my long-suppressed, ignored fandom. Sorry, Sylvia, but she wouldn't see or hear it anyway.
"Kneeling and bowing easier than expected."
"Think I'm scheming? I'm just keeping my word. The strong deserve respect. As the loser... this is my due price."
When I finally spoke, Sylvia—forehead still to the floor—replied in a voice whose tremors had eased a touch.
"Reasons for pursuing growth vary. Some drive themselves endlessly with noble, lofty hearts to save the world this very instant. But a small-vesselled wench like me? Just chasing strength to win someone's heart."
"Feeling your limits lately?"
"...I figured everyone was."
It's not just me. Sylvia, other rankers—even Jeong Chan-su. Everyone's growth slowing, everyone fretting and impatient. The root? An unknowable future.
What lies ahead? What enemies await higher up? Even regressor Jeong Chan-su was a mere grunt in his first run. He doesn't know the tower's end either. By now, his fading future knowledge must be pressuring him—like in the story.
Maybe I'm the only one free of that pressure, peeking into Fate Road's galleries.
"Seems like I've only got one thing to tell you. No real secret formula. What I got from Layer 30? Just some low-grade abilities synergizing uniquely with me."
Chucking softly, I knelt on one knee and stroked Sylvia's hair, coaxing her head up. Her emerald eyes widened in disbelief. Did she expect a boot to my head?
"But we still have chances. Me, you. Sound like empty platitudes? I've already proven it."
"That's..."
"Your path looks solid to me. Keep at it. Sounds cheesy, but trust me."
In truth, Sylvia grows far stronger, survives to the end, reaches the top with Jeong Chan-su. Can't say it outright yet.
Capturing Jeong Chan-su's heart? Up to her, I guess.
The story ended in harem anyway, so monopolizing him—what she secretly wants—might be tough.
"...Never thought a rival's words could resonate like this. Yeah, you're right. You've proven your strength—no doubting that."
Pressing a hand to her forehead, Sylvia let out a hollow laugh, her lips curving up slightly. Hostility and wariness had nearly vanished from her eyes. Finally, I glimpsed the captivating heroine from the story.
"Thanks for the merciful treatment and advice to this loser. But like it or not, we'll keep competing."
"Can't be helped."
"Too bad you won't join our guild."
On parting, Sylvia—dragged here like a slaughter-bound cow—left with lighter steps, murmuring genuine regret. Knowing her personality, I chuckled. She'd likely pamper me if I joined Jeong Chan-su's faction—his harem, precisely.
Not happening.
Then as now, I had zero intention of subordinating to Jeong Chan-su. At first, wariness—he saw me as a variable to eliminate. Now? No wanting aid from the benchmark I must surpass.
Fate Road's constellations don't exist before my eyes. Jeong Chan-su does. Essential to me.
"Ended...better than expected? You went easy?!"
As Sylvia waved goodbye, boarded her carriage, and vanished, Kim Ji-eun—who'd been peeking—rushed over, making a huge fuss. Unlike other guildmates clueless on her visit, Kim Ji-eun knew the score and had fumed at Sylvia's rudeness.
"Didn't go easy. Just ended well."
"Wanted to see it too... that haughty elf groveling, kissing your shoes."
"Didn't go that far."
"Bet she braced for it. Her looks would've made a great scene, heh."
I flinched at Kim Ji-eun lost in her delusions. Wait, does this girl have that kind of taste?