Chapter 28 - Retribution (1)
‘What the hell is she misunderstanding?’
Shadis's sudden burst of fervent determination in her eyes after hearing my words was a little unsettling, but we decided to wrap up the meeting there and part ways. I could handle it, but they needed to start preparing for tomorrow right away.
“Shall we head back to the hotel like this?”
“The sanctuary first.”
Instead of returning to the hotel, I headed to the sanctuary. Unlike before, I was now visiting whenever the cooldown allowed. Even if there was nothing specific to discuss with the constellations, it didn't matter. Dropping by whenever the time came and picking up whatever info I could would eventually prove useful someday.
If only my Insight stat hit 2,000, I wouldn't need to bother with all this hassle.
‘Would they keep my secret safe even if they found out?’
The more I eavesdropped on the community and leaked info, the more my contract constellations might sense something off, even if others wouldn't. Of course, I already knew they were sincere toward me. Considering how common it was for constellations to treat contractors like tools via slave contracts, I'd lucked out with good ones.
But I still couldn't be completely sure. Because in the end, I was hiding something crucial from them.
“Good thing you came right away. Today, I have a warning for you.”
“...Pardon?”
So when I arrived at the sanctuary that day and heard Serpina's voice, her abrupt declaration of a warning made me flinch involuntarily.
“What... what warning?”
“Looks like the intent got through just fine.”
Amid the characteristic static noise, the word warning came through crystal clear. Seeing her relief in the follow-up confirmed I hadn't misheard or distorted it.
“There are those who hate you, resent you. We've detected signs they're plotting direct slander against you.”
“Who the hell would—?”
“That's...”
Mute processing followed my startled question. Restrictions barred direct mention. Serpina clearly knew it too, her frustrated tsks echoing openly.
“Damn it, just be careful. Suspect everyone from now on. Down in the lower layers, you can't bring your full stats to bear. They're clearly targeting that weakness.”
In the end, her warning boiled down to staying vigilant no matter what. That was about the limit of what a constellation could tell a contractor anyway. No wonder sharp intuition like mine was prized as a skill—you caught on like clockwork.
“Don't worry.”
Regaining my composure, I reassured her and left the sanctuary. My stiff expression must've shown; even the waiting driver was giving me side-eyes.
“Back to the hotel.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
We sped straight there. Aside from me, it housed key Federation execs dispatched from other layers—too high-profile for a blatant attack.
‘No choice but to check the community.’
Still early, but I rushed through sleep prep. Low odds Serpina hadn't posted about me in the fan gallery. I'd know who was gunning for me and how it was even possible by checking there.
Sure enough, the gallery was ablaze. But this time, the fury wasn't aimed at internal drama or rival Jeong Chan-su fans. It was at the gamblers who'd run their own betting pool during my duel with Sylvia—wiped out by my upset win.
As expected, admin Serpina led the charge with peak rage. Her post—pinned at the top for all to see—came with curses and a screenshot: her in a one-vs-many flame war in some other gallery, not Reina's fan board.
They brazenly vowed payback, undeterred by Serpina's calls. If we wanted to stop their retaliation for the losses I'd caused, we'd have to try.
Other users were buzzing too at their antics. An Assassination Gallery existed somewhere, nuts enough for puppeteering tower insiders into attacks or terror plots—who knew how, but feasible.
Shocked, I posted directly. Betting talk had simmered since the start; jokes about sore losers flipping out weren't new. But reality hitting? Panic city. Even gallery constellations had brushed it off as banter.
One reply nailed it: guilt of extra spotlight. Sure, it drew new fans, but also the toxic crowd in droves.
Stunned into a curt reply, others eyed it with cynical realism—furious, but all too aware it was inevitable.
Fan gallery users hustled to counter the hit requests, many reacting with veteran ease. With an Assassination Gallery out in the open, this was just another event or bait on the broader scale. The place thrummed with heat.
I chimed in slyly with questions, riding reply waves to hoover intel.
Some blamed admin Serpina for my "sleeping through" gallery time. Guilty twinge hit; I logged off at a decent point. Lost track—dawn's gray light was breaking.
‘Kicks off in days.’
Intel said safe for now; requests just posted. Gallery dwellers would freak if it escalated.
Head throbbing, I rose, shed pajamas, donned outing gear. Dungeon as planned today—clear one fast as possible.
“Damn it.”
A sigh escaped. Being hated, resented? Sucked. Especially when I hadn't done shit wrong.
“Chief Secretary, what's with the crowd?”
Federation branch exec Chief Secretary Jake—stuck to me like a handler since yesterday—showed at dawn.
“Hm, looks like quasi-ranker Crow from the Blue Dragon Society arrived on schedule.”
“...What a fuss.”
Chin toward the hotel-side mob, he explained quick. Quasi-ranker. I scoffed. Official rankings topped at 100. But rank-happy folks hyped 100-300, even 500, as "quasi." No real metric.
“All thanks to Reina's feats spiking upper-layer challengers' lower-layer runs. Proves rethinking from the bottom up firsthand.”
“My fault, huh? Hah.”
Couldn't laugh at Jake's claim. Those hitmen? Upper challengers slumming it—precisely the "lower-layer boom" I'd sparked. Without it, easier to spot. Now? My influx muddied the filter.
‘Stay sharp. Nothing else for it.’
Eyes on quasi-ranker Crow sweeping past lobby entourages in luxury, I chucked the drained paper cup into the trash.