Chapter 1

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 001

Chapter Title: Prologue

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At first, I thought it was some kind of April Fool's prank.

I was sitting in a university lecture hall when someone suddenly flung open the back door.

And then they started yelling something like this.

"Constellations! The constellations have appeared!"

I couldn't believe it.

The boy who cried wolf at least claimed to have seen something real like a wolf, but this psycho seemed to have read too many web novels and lost the ability to distinguish reality from fantasy.

But the crazy one wasn't the weirdo screaming in the lecture hall.

It was the world itself.

That day, the TV blabbered nonstop about the constellations that had ripped through the sky.

I only borrowed the TV's phrasing because I couldn't hear those voices myself.

When I stepped out after the lecture ended, other students and even professors were staring up at the sky, trembling in fear. I just figured it was some flash mob.

But it wasn't.

From that day on, the world began to be ruled by the constellations.

Ordinary humans were powerless before beings like Zeus, Odin, Confucius, Lü Dongbin, Yamata no Orochi, Hwanung, Cthulhu, and the Wanli Emperor.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

'Hang on, though.'

Wasn't the Wanli Emperor supposed to be trash-tier?

How'd he squeeze into that lineup? Just because his name sounds cool? Is this some kind of name-value scam?

Anyway, every human on Earth ended up accepting the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠constellations.

Worshipping them or fearing them.

Even Donald, the American president who thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread, became Zeus's lackey and rode around on lightning bolts.

And me?

I'm still living my life exactly the same as before.

Because, to my eyes, there was nothing impressive about these constellations at all.

"Arghhhhh! Legs! There are too many leeeeegs!!!! This can't be reality!!! I'm so scared I'm going insaneeeee!!!"

Damn, no matter how insane the world gets, I can't go screaming like that at an octopus in an aquarium.

"Your naaaaame!!!! Tell me your naaaaame!!!!"

I sidestepped the young man collapsed on the ground, howling in agony, and quietly kept walking.

In front of him, an octopus in an aquarium was floating in midair.

That was probably the constellation manifesting before the guy.

From what I could overhear, it sounded like a massive octopus with infinite tentacles and abyss-like eyes, but to me, it just looked like leftover seafood.

"Excuse me, just passing through."

I gave a casual heads-up and walked by.

As expected—or maybe naturally—the guy showed zero interest in me.

"Arghhhhhh! Summer Magus Drury!!!! That's your naaaaame!!!!!"

The fact that he started spouting nonsense midway through meant I wasn't even in his field of vision.

Lucky break.

The dude was clearly losing his mind in real time. Better to stay completely off his radar than pull aggro for no reason.

With that in mind, I passed by, but then I accidentally made eye contact with the octopus.

The instant that happened, I didn't suddenly feel an urge to writhe on the ground praising it...

Animism is just too outdated to start practicing now.

"Hello, thanks for your hard work."

I simply gave a quick bow to the octopus.

It's not like I have some mental illness that makes me greet octopuses.

It was probably some impressive constellation, after all.

Sure, they all look like nothing special to me, but that doesn't mean I don't believe they exist.

If things you can't see don't exist, then bacteria wouldn't exist either—and that's not the case.

Slurp, slurp.

Sure enough, right after I finished my greeting, the octopus waved two tentacles.

Did it like that?

Good, then.

Even if it looks like that, it's probably sentient enough not to hate basic manners.

Having made acquaintance with the neighborhood's newest resident, I headed to my original destination.

I soon stopped in front of a bento shop.

[Sauce Ne Bento Delivery Specialists]

"Boss! I'm here!"

"Hey! Han-sik! Been waiting for you."

I exchanged greetings with the boss, who was waiting out front.

A stack of bentos, nearly as tall as me, was already piled up in front of him.

That was today's delivery load for me.

Who am I kidding?

It's been three whole years since I graduated with top honors from a decent university's economics department.

Now I'm a near-NEET scraping by as a delivery part-timer for a bento shop.

It was like evolving from Agumon to SkullGreymon—dramatic, but unavoidable.

Any hotshot company these days won't even look at you without a decent patron constellation.

And I don't have a decent patron—or even know any constellations, for that matter.

Honestly, landing this gig was a miracle.

Even the day-laborer uncles on construction sites have backers like Imoogi or Goliath these days.

'Hang on, though.'

Who am I even making excuses to?

Seeing that floating octopus on the way here must've put me in a funk.

I shook off the stray thoughts and checked the stacked bentos.

"Kinda more than usual today, huh?"

"Yeah, a few kids from the Ant Faction quit."

"Why? Heading into a tower or something?"

"As if those punks have the guts. Just got word from above to cut 'em loose. No clue on the details."

"Those commie ants... Now I gotta do all the work."

"Hey, they'll still pay you their shares, so don't sweat it."

"For real? Cool, then."

I chatted lightly with the boss while loading the bentos into the delivery Starex.

Half a year at this, and my hands moved like clockwork.

"Alright, I'm off. Anything special to watch for?"

"Nah. Just more volume than usual, so drive safe."

"Don't worry. I'm ex-Army driver, remember?"

"I know, I know. You've told me like ten times."

I shrugged and started my deliveries.

I passed through that alley again on the way.

The convulsing guy was gone, replaced by some monster with a fish head carefully relocating the aquarium octopus.

Swish, swish.

I caught the octopus's tentacles twitching and gave a light nod in greeting.

From the looks of it, that fish-head was probably the guy from earlier.

Hmm.

Best not to think about it.

Stuff like that happens sometimes.

Some patron constellations expand their race through contracts, after all.

My coworkers, the ants, were exactly that type.

Of course.

How the hell does a human's head turn into a fish in ten minutes flat?

Did they at least buy a mask and slap it on?

Is there a Halloween costume shop around here?

You'd at least need some lab with culture fluid for a proper species change, right?

These and other profound, insightful musings on human nature cluttered my head, but only briefly.

A few ant coworkers quitting meant more routes than usual.

No room for daydreaming when you're focused on driving—especially these days.

"Halt! Who goes there!"

"Hi! Bento delivery!"

"Where are those damn Myrmidons who always come?"

Right on cue, as I hit an extra stop, a few burly sunglass-wearing guys snarled it out, grinding their teeth.

They clutched tridents that looked straight out of another era.

Not weird, though.

Since the constellations appeared, the world advanced and regressed at the same time.

On one hand, patron constellations bestowed immense power and knowledge, birthing new tech and theories.

On the other, society regressed hard.

"They quit this time."

"What! For real?!"

"Yes."

For example, territories got divvied up around specific patrons.

"Damn it! Must be that fire-stealer's orders! We were gonna make those traitors pay!"

Wars between rival patrons were like that.

Seoul alone had over ten streets split by constellation turf, beyond administrative districts.

Having lived most my life under law and order, I couldn't really relate, but most constellations came from worlds that settled disputes with raw power.

'Looks like these guys had beef with the ants.'

Probably some turf war in a zone I don't know about, and the ants bailed before clashing with these uncles.

I learned more specifics on my coworkers' resignations, but it didn't faze me.

"Anyway, take it before it gets cold."

"Uh, yeah. But you..."

"Just a part-timer. Never even talked to those guys, so relax. You'd know if you saw me before."

"Ahem, right. Sorry. Got loud there."

Whatever bullshit the constellations were up to, it had nothing to do with me.

At least they weren't hostile; the big guys awkwardly took the bentos anyway.

I hit the remaining spots in order.

Two hours of looping the neighborhood later, I was at the last stop.

'Happiness Apartment.'

A rundown old complex built about forty years ago.

Didn't look happy at all, but I whistled cheerfully as I headed inside.

'Dobby is free!'

Last delivery of the day—my steps were already light.

No elevator in this ancient dump, but that couldn't kill my buzz.

I bounded up the stairs happily.

Happiness Apartment, Building 104, Room 404.

Ding-dong.

Creeeak.

"Wh-who is it...?"

A woman with stark white hair peeked out when I rang.

Another reason my steps to Happiness Apartment were always light.

The tenant here is drop-dead gorgeous.

Unlike others who leave it at the door, she always comes out personally.

"Bento delivery."

"Oh."

I handed it over with my friendliest smile.

She bowed with a blank expression.

"Th-thank you, as always."

"No biggie. It's my job."

"Y-yes. Um, take care."

Thud.

The door shut again with those words.

Short as hell, but that was enough.

Some things in the world just brighten your day from a quick glimpse.

A gloomy white-haired beauty is definitely one of them.

'...Okay, even I think that's kinda creepy.'

What can you do?

Creepy is creepy, and the thought pops up naturally.

I'm not slick enough to ignore my true feelings.

Anyway, deliveries done, I was heading back to the Starex.

Step, step.

Suddenly, footsteps from below.

My head tilted.

'A resident?'

Weird.

Half a year delivering here, and aside from that girl, I don't think I've seen anyone else...

'Or maybe semi-resident?'

Thinking about it, it's an apartment complex.

Of course there are others.

The odd part is not seeing anyone till now.

I headed down casually.

That's when the owner of the footsteps—an average-looking middle-aged guy—passed me.

Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulder.

A rough grip sent a dull pain through it.

I panicked too.

"Huh?"

What the—?

Did he somehow overhear my thoughts just now?

Now I noticed he was in some uniform.

Security guard? Did he catch me perving on a resident?

Lost in my self-conscious delusions, the guy made a grave face.

"Hold up, you."

"Yes?"

"...You live here?"

Ah.

Guess not.

Unfamiliar face wandering the halls—makes sense he'd be suspicious.

This place is dead quiet usually.

"Nah, just delivering."

"...Delivering?"

"Yeah, bentos."

I corrected what seemed like a misunderstanding.

But the guy looked skeptical.

No way he doesn't believe me.

I wasn't even in a proper delivery jacket like the others.

I pulled a [Sauce Ne] business card from my pocket to prove it.

"...This?"

"Our shop's flyer."

"So you really are a delivery guy?"

"Yes. Uh, could you let go now? My shoulder hurts."

I pointed to my throbbing shoulder, and he released it in a fluster.

"Oh, sorry about that. Didn't expect anyone else here..."

"No worries. Happens."

Hell, I'd never seen anyone else here either.

"Can I go, then?"

"...Yeah."

Still, the guy's face stayed uneasy.

Not my problem. I hopped in the Starex with light steps and headed back to the shop.

Turn in the van, head home, crash. Boss said extra pay, so fried chicken it is.

'Post-work chicken.'

That's sex right there.

And so my day ended on a high note.

After the heavens opened and the constellations revealed themselves.

The world underwent a massive upheaval.

Though called beings from myths and legends, constellations weren't just historical figures.

Their knowledge reached realms humanity hadn't touched, and their powers far surpassed anything science could replicate.

Thanks to them, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠humanity achieved unprecedented progress.

Rockets launched into the sky received blessings from the goddess of stars, enabling fuel-free space exploration.

Long-unsolvable academic riddles were cracked one by one with hints from the god of knowledge.

But where there's light, there's shadow—the constellations didn't bring only good.

Many were outright hostile to humans.

Outer gods known from Cthulhu mythos.

Demons who crushed human dignity for fun.

Unknown entities toying with humans for sport.

They wrought massive harm on humanity.

Especially the powerful ones—they warped reality itself, imposing their own laws.

Inserting new natural numbers between 3 and 4 to drive scholars mad.

Crafting rocking chairs that reversed time, trapping people in endless loops.

Erecting towers worldwide, daring humans to challenge the gods.

As constellations advanced the world, they also broke it.

People called these distortions "pollution," and South Korea had plenty.

Luckily fewer in number than other countries, but their intensity rivaled the worst.

No—the three most severe global pollutions were crammed into this tiny peninsula.

Three S-rank pollution zones by Pollution Investigation Bureau standards.

[Second Jeju Island]

[Chocolate Factory]

And.

[Happiness Apartment]

Each one a horrific distortion of reality's laws.

Otherworldly realms within the world where stepping foot meant risking your life.

And the most vicious? Happiness Apartment, hands down.

Simple reason.

Unlike the other two, a constellation—the source of the pollution—lived there directly.

Its mere presence twisted reality's laws, calling its name corrupted souls, and ordinary folk weren't even allowed to glimpse it.

An ancient evil had descended.

But.

'A delivery guy?'

Absurdity flickered across Park In-ho, chief of the Pollution Investigation Bureau.

It had to.

Even he, blessed by a patron constellation and clad in a custom suit mobilizing the bureau and allied constellations' full power, hesitated to enter.

Yet some lone guy had strolled right in.

He called himself a delivery man, but Park In-ho knew that was impossible.

'In this hellish pollution zone?'

Turn your head—tentacles sprouted from walls, clinging shadows like leeches gnawed at your brain.

And that wasn't all.

Last time he probed Happiness Apartment?

The grotesquely warped stairs stretched near-infinitely.

Climbing half took him nearly a month, subjectively.

Deliveries here?

'Heh.'

Get real.

A heavy sigh escaped Park In-ho's lips.

He jotted what he'd just seen into his record notebook.

That was all he could glean for now.

But bits like these would one day converge to purify Happiness Apartment.

Park In-ho pocketed the card from the mystery man, clinging to that hope.

'More work piled up.'

Once out, new investigations awaited.

But for now, surveying Happiness Apartment came first.

Park In-ho climbed the stairs.

Unlike the stranger who'd breezed past, the steps before him stretched endlessly.