A Beginner's Cheat

Having decisively severed ties with Moment of Eternity, Aethel walked out.

He proceeded along the road, heading toward his true home beyond causality—the Heavens Beyond Heavens, that transcendent realm situated outside the boundaries of the universe… or rather, he didn't.

The place he actually turned his steps toward was neither the cosmos nor even a luxury hotel, but a humble neighborhood 24-hour jjimjilbang.

The reason?

I'm broke.

Walking out with an air of aloof detachment had felt great in the moment, but in his haste to make a cool exit, he had forgotten to grab any cash. Going back just to fetch his wallet wasn't an option his pride would allow. And so, he settled on a cheap local sauna as his shelter for the night.

"Oh, Mr. Aethel?" the proprietor, a man in his late thirties working the front desk, called out in recognition the moment Aethel stepped inside. "Haven't seen you around in a while."

"Yeah. Been busy."

"Just yourself today? The young ladies aren't with you?"

"Just me. And, well… the thing is, I'm a bit short on cash at the moment…"

"Don't worry about it. I'll just put it on your tab."

Aethel kept a low profile whenever possible, but there was only so much a god could blend in. A few neighborhood locals still recognized him from his rare walks outside. Of course, none ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of them had the faintest clue he was a transcendent constellation; to them, he was merely an exceptionally handsome young man who lived alongside the famous incarnation strike team.

"Thanks," Aethel murmured.

With his negotiations concluded, Aethel stepped into the bathhouse.

A transcendent constellation, checking into a public sauna on credit. Anyone privy to his true divine nature would have dropped dead from sheer shock. Fortunately, the facility was exceptionally quiet today. There were hardly any other patrons around, let alone anyone capable of seeing through his human vessel.

…Now what?

Having changed into the standard-issue ochre sauna clothes, Aethel plopped down onto the linoleum floor and let out a heavy sigh. His breath carried the bitter weight of practical uncertainty.

To be fair, even after parting ways with those girls, it's not like I'll starve. Not with my abilities.

Due to existing dimensional restrictions, he couldn't unleash the full scope of his divine authority on Earth, but the powers he retained were more than sufficient. His innate ability as a constellation to sponsor mortals was completely intact.

I'd rather refrain from using divine intervention if I can help it, but since I walked out penniless, I don't have much of a choice. Still, it's a hell of a lot better than sponsoring hundreds of fresh recruits while cooped up under the same roof.

If he handed out blessings to a horde of rookies living right beside him, his celestial identity would be exposed in no time. But if he merely posed as an ordinary incarnation, or exercised his powers through the remote sponsorship system, the risk of discovery dropped to practically zero.

"…What was I thinking?" Aethel muttered to himself, coming to the belated realization that descending to the mortal realm in the first place had been an idiotic mistake.

His reason for coming down to Earth had been utterly trivial. One day, he had happened across another constellation who spent their time sponsoring earthly mortals, and he had asked out of pure curiosity:

"Is that actually fun?"

"Of course it is."

"You don't even go down there yourself. You just sit back and watch other people do things."

"Well, we send them sponsorships."

"No, I'm asking what's so enjoyable about that. Bestowing blessings on mortal champions whenever a world-ending catastrophe strikes is something I do all the time."

To Aethel, granting divine aid was merely a duty, like answering an emergency summons. He couldn't fathom how other constellations treated it like entertainment. But then the other being had chimed in:

"If you're so curious, why don't you descend and see for yourself? Unlike the rest of us, you can walk among mortals whenever you please."

"Maybe I will."

It had been an entirely casual suggestion, taken on a whim without a single serious thought. He had been overdue for a vacation anyway.

All I wanted was to take it easy down here and sponsor someone decent.

He had never intended to stir up a grand commotion, which was precisely why he had laid down so many strict conditions for his team. Who could have guessed things would spiral out of control like this? The mortals he sponsored hadn't stopped at 'decent'—they had skyrocketed into the absolute top tier of the nation.

And as their stature grew, their demands escalated in tandem. Their relationship hadn't been terrible in the beginning. But the friction had mounted day by day, grinding away at his patience until the whole arrangement finally imploded today.

If anyone else had dared to get that cocky with me, mortal or constellation, I would've beaten them into the dirt to nip it in the bud.

Yet because of the lingering affection that had accumulated between them, he couldn't bring himself to raise a hand against them. Instead, he had simply walked away.

…Ah. So that's why everyone else just watches from the outside!

A sudden epiphany struck Aethel like a lightning bolt, and he slapped his forehead. Only now did he grasp the obvious truth: if you merely bestowed sponsorships from the heavens, you never had to deal with the suffocating nuisance of interpersonal relationships.

"You meddle in someone's life from afar, and the moment you get bored, you just cut them off. No wonder they think it's fun."

"What was that, dear?"

The restaurant ajumma working in the sauna's small kitchen peered out from behind the counter, tilting her head in confusion at Aethel's bizarre monologue.

"If you're going to order food, you'd better do it now. Hardly anyone's here today, so I'm closing up the kitchen in a bit."

"Ah. In that case, give me a soybean paste stew set."

As a transcendent divine being, Aethel had no physical need for sustenance, but since he was lounging in a sauna anyway, he figured he might as well enjoy a warm meal.

The ajumma nodded and set to work, balancing a smartphone in one hand while cooking with the other. Aethel watched her, idly thinking that she ought to put the phone away while handling kitchen knives, when—

"Eek!"

The woman let out a sudden, piercing shriek.

"What? Did you sell your soul to short-form videos and slice your finger off?"

"No, not that! Look at this! Just look!"

Abandoning her cooking, the ajumma rushed over and shoved her screen right into Aethel's face. Glancing at the live broadcast streaming from the display, Aethel's brow furrowed.

"Is this… a hunter stream?"

Hunter streaming—live broadcasts where sponsored incarnations ventured into dungeons to hunt monsters for public entertainment.

On screen was a young female incarnation who appeared to be a full-time streamer, currently locked in combat against an absurd horde of monsters. Individually, the beasts weren't particularly formidable, but their sheer numbers completely filled the screen, spilling past the edges of the frame. The woman was fighting with everything she had, but it was painfully obvious she wouldn't hold out much longer.

The chat flew by in a frenzy of panic, but none of the viewers had any real way to intervene.

"I watch this poor girl's channel all the time, she's going to get killed!" the ajumma wailed, clasping her hands in distress. "Mr. Aethel, can't you ask those famous young ladies of yours to go save her?!"

"Like hell that would work." Aethel cut her off with cold pragmatism. "Even if I called them this very second, how long do you think it would take them to mobilize and reach that dungeon? By the time they arrived, it'd already be over."

"Then what can she do?!"

"…Her only hope is to pray that some kindhearted constellation takes pity on her and pulls off a miracle."

And as it happened, there was a constellation standing right here.

Might as well treat this as target practice and test the waters. Giving her too much could cause complications, so let's stick to a single, modest survival trick.

How long had it been since he last did this? For the first time in an eternity, Aethel brought up the celestial sponsorship interface.

Hwang Nari had originally aspired to be a VTuber.

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

However, despite pouring all her ambition into her virtual debut, the endeavor had crashed and burned into utter failure. Worse, she had funded the entire project through loans, leaving her crushed under a mountain of debt. The one who had saved her from that suffocating despair was, astonishingly, a constellation.

A passing celestial patron had thrown her a bone purely out of charity—a miracle akin to hitting the cosmic lottery. In that transformative moment, Nari had made up her mind.

"From this day forward, I'm a hunter streamer!"

She abandoned virtual streaming on the spot and pivoted to dungeon broadcasting. Fortunately, the skill left behind by that divine patron was remarkably potent. She was able to dispatch monsters with relative ease, steadily building up a loyal subscriber base.

Once she finally cleared every last cent of her debt, a surge of triumph overwhelmed her senses. She felt invincible, convinced there was nothing she couldn't conquer. Swept up in that intoxicating wave of overconfidence, she had recklessly challenged a higher-difficulty dungeon…

And now, she stood on the precipice of death.

"A-Aaargh!"

Nari threw herself into a frantic roll across the cavern floor. The instant her body cleared the ground, a volley of crude blades and rusted spears impaled the spot where she had been standing.

"Haaah… haaah…"

Chills prickled across her flesh as she gasped for air, her lungs burning. Nari was a charming young woman with brown twin-drill curls, clad in a pink top and a short black skirt. The entire ensemble had been modeled directly after her former virtual avatar. While the adorable aesthetic was fantastic for attracting subscribers, it offered approximately zero defensive utility against razor-sharp steel.

There have to be at least a hundred of them…!

Desperately evading one strike after another, she tried to tally the horde surrounding her. Where had such an army been lurking inside this cramped cavern? Before her eyes stretched an endless sea of green skin and jagged fangs.

Even if they're higher-tier variants, they're still just goblins! I thought my skill would let me breeze right through them!

The divine ability she had received came from a patron associated with contagion, making it a plague-based skill. Once inflicted, it completely incapacitated the target. Thanks to that power, an ordinary civilian like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Nari had been able to hunt without formal combat training. But it harbored one fatal limitation: it could only target a single entity at a time.

Against a mob this massive, I'll be hacked to pieces before I can even curse half of them!

It was a total dead end. She needed salvation, but the bitter reality was that no help was coming.

That constellation definitely isn't coming back…

Toy Soldier of the Plague had likely viewed that one-time blessing as spare change tossed to a beggar; ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the being had never contacted her again. And while her viewers were currently watching this nightmare unfold on stream, people trapped behind glowing glass screens were powerless to pull her out of a dungeon.

You idiot! You stupid, pathetic idiot, why do you never learn?!

Cornered with nowhere left to run, she cursed her own foolishness. She had already ruined her life once with reckless optimism, and here she was, repeating the exact same blunder. At this point, she had to accept that she was simply incorrigible by nature.

"P-Please! Somebody help me…! Constellation-nim!"

Driven to the brink of despair, Nari screamed out at the top of her lungs, pleading for her previous patron—or any divine being in existence—to heed her cry. It was barely a step above shouting empty prayers into the void, but—

Miraculously, divine intervention descended exactly as she had begged.

An Anonymous Constellation?!

Nari's heart leaped in joy, even as sheer bewilderment seized her mind. An anonymous constellation was something she had never heard of in her life.

Can constellations even go anonymous?! And even if they can, why the hell would they want to hide their glory?!

Every alarm bell in her head screamed that this was suspicious beyond belief. But Nari had zero leverage to be picky.

"G-Give it to me! Please, I'll take anything!"

She was seconds away from being butchered alive; what did a little sketchiness matter? Casting all doubts to the wind, Nari desperately accepted the sponsorship.

"…What?"

Staring at the notification, Nari's jaw went slack in absolute disbelief at a cheat skill so absurd it bordered on insanity.