Chapter 4 - The Big Shot (1)
[JeongGal fans acting up ain't new. Quit the drama already]
A flood of posts from users who seemed to swarm in from somewhere, along with terror attacks of spam, and even Manager Serpina's follow-up measures after seeing it all. Everything unfolded swiftly right before my eyes.
The malicious posts that multiplied in an instant were all deleted, and the offending users blocked. But that brief window was enough time for me to grasp what was happening—and plenty for the users in my gallery to erupt in fury.
··· After that, a string of outraged rants from users poured in for a while. It didn't seem like this was the first or second time—it took Serpina finally telling them to cool it before the storm died down bit by bit.
Do all these other people have fanbases this intense?
I stared blankly at it all, dumbfounded. Their raw reactions clashed so hard with their lofty identities as Constellations, but I never imagined it'd escalate like this. I still couldn't wrap my head around why they'd go this far. Sure, I got why they were interested in us—but to them, weren't we just distant juniors, miles below?
A post explaining the reason popped up. Knowing that the "points" they mentioned were Achievement Points needed for Constellation rank-ups, I was stunned. They were running a gambling ring using us.
Of course, I'd known Constellations loved betting and gambling with their points—it was canon. But I'd thought it was just harmless fun and games.
Replies pointing it out or lamenting piled up under that post. It was absurd yet so brutally real that they were burning points that decided their own futures like this—left me speechless.
And it wasn't just Jeong Chan-su's fans. This culture was baked into the Constellations' entertainment—a massive system blending real gambling with their spectacle. Hearing my own points were tied to tons of users made my head spin.
The S-grade item I'd lost was a lucky pull from the highest-reward Golden Chest. I'd chalked it up to Serpina's gift and my fortune, but it was actually crowdfunded from user points.
Wait—does that mean everything so far...?
The invisible masses and their colossal system lurking beyond sight—maybe they influenced us far more than just watching and cheering. Realizing that sent chills down my spine.
"..."
The community buzzing with user chatter when I dozed off had vanished from view, but I sat up in bed more troubled than before.
My mind was a mess. All the real help they'd given me was undeniable, but now a new weight crushed my shoulders—the fear my mistakes could ruin it all.
"Ah, damn it..."
I covered my eyes with my hand and sighed.
Were sports stars under crushing expectations like this? Even unseen, bearing countless hopes and gazes wasn't easy. It clashed hard with my nature. That's why, despite being a unavoidable celebrity in and out of the Tower 3445, I'd dumped all public duties on Kim Ji-eun.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"If you're not fully recovered, you could rest more at HQ."
Kim Ji-eun arrived with my gear, her face worried at my state. But I couldn't burden her with this—I just shook my head.
They were watching me everywhere, always. I couldn't voice it.
"Nah. Better to head out now and shake it off."
Resting wouldn't fix it. I needed to move, redirect my nerves and heart elsewhere.
"Straight to Layer 30."
I slung on the light backpack she'd prepped and hit the road.
Climbing up was hell, but descending? Fair game in the Tower 3445. High-floor folks dropping low just got debuffed accordingly—stats restored on return.
"Huh?"
"I-I-I tried to block them, but..."
The moment I stepped out the hospital's front gate, a crowd surged like they'd been waiting. Kim Ji-eun stammered, avoiding my eyes in panic.
"Long time no see, Reina-nim."
The lizardman Edmond flicked his long, slender tongue, smirking. In his hand: a camera. Not electronics—powered by mana stones and engraved spells.
"Edmond, what the hell is this?"
"Bear with me. Gotta eat too, y'know?"
She scowled behind obsidian-crafted sunglasses for precise shots. No eyes visible through the huge lenses, but furrowed brows and creased forehead were clear. Still, Edmond brushed it off slyly.
"A key powerhouse of Layer 150's core forces—your whereabouts demand attention not just from Tower 3445 residents, but worlds fixated on us."
Ranking 15th: Moonlight Sword辉 Reina. As he said, she was one of the Tower 3445's top celebs. Two digits in rank, but her position made her practically top dog. No wonder Jeong Chan-su visited personally.
Her role and feats in conquering Layer 150 were massive.
"Above all, as a reporter, I owe it to the anxious masses to deliver info."
"Smooth talker."
Edmond, who'd lived eons beyond Reina, ditched his old identity a decade ago for resident status—sacrificing power for freedom as part of the Tower 3445. The swarm here? All media. Their news spanned the Tower 3445 and linked worlds.
"Many tremble fearing you've quit, jeopardizing Layer 150 conquest."
"Wrong. Just a training break during regroup. My goal's still breaching the top."
Even top dogs couldn't ignore public opinion tied to homeworlds. Reina fielded the mob's interviews, holding an impromptu presser at the gate.
No choice now.
She hated these spots, but clarifying beat misconceptions. It went textbook.
"Climbing doesn't always mean steamrolling. Rediscovering lost strengths in lowers, unlocking new paths—hardly rare."
"..."
While Reina met the press, two men watched from a rooftop one block away.
Jeong Chan-su, one of them, stared silently despite his companion's words.
Reina Frontier. The sole unknown variable I didn't foresee. Maybe the only one I created myself.
Her Over Moon guildies, reporters, gawkers—nearly 100 at the hospital front. But his eyes locked on one: tall over 170cm, long silver hair, baggy tracksuit hugging killer curves.
But Jeong Chan-su fixated not on her famed looks.
Why? Why does Abeltar keep pushing to eliminate her?
His contracted ConstellationAbeltar was infamous for risky choices with fat rewards. Armed with foreknowledge, Jeong Chan-su sought and sealed the deal in his past life.
Lately, Abeltar hammered "remove Reina." Jeong Chan-su ignored it clean, figuring it was just hiking his own difficulty by axing a top summit candidate.
"We're out. Regroup period—boost our forces solo."
"Possible in this mess?"
"Plenty ways. You just don't know 'em."
He turned without regret and left. Reina getting stronger? Fine by him. He'd just grow stronger too.