The Constellations' Game [Laika]

The diligent fairy Ceria had been in an excellent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mood lately.

The reason was simple.

She, a bottom-rung GM at Laika Co., Ltd. for what felt like an eternity, had finally been promoted.

The hero she had newly discovered this cycle had been judged to possess Third-Tier talent—no less.

And that achievement had earned her the promotion.

Unearthing a player who qualified as Tier 3 or higher from the very start was an extraordinarily rare feat.

Even the most grizzled veteran fairies in the industry managed to find one, at best, once out of every hundred heroes they scouted.

"So make sure you watch and learn, Veron."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"You should hurry up and go independent yourself, you know."

From Tier 3 talent upward, a hero could realistically look forward to becoming a ranker if they persisted through enough loops.

In all her years on the job, this was only the second time Ceria had ever found talent of Tier 3 or better.

"This really is rewarding work, isn't it?"

So naturally, she was riding high.

"But, Miss Ceria?"

"Hmm?"

"Just the other day, you were saying you wanted to quit it all and throw in the towel..."

"Would you like a scolding, Veron?"

"Eep! N-no, ma'am!"

She could put up with her cheeky subordinate's teasing with a benevolent smile on her face, after all.

"If you're going to spout useless nonsense, get out there and work, Veron."

"I-I just got back from the field, though!"

"Go back anyway."

"C-couldn't I rest just a little?"

So no, Ceria wasn't shooing the boy out because she was angry.

"Stay a second longer and you'll regret it."

"Wha—?"

It was simply that a guest was about to arrive.

A very important guest.

Knock knock—

"Come in, Lorenz."

Creeeak—

The door swung open and someone stepped inside, and Veron, meeting her eyes, shot up from his seat in visible alarm.

"W-well then, I'll be going now, ma'am!"

"None of your slacking off out there?"

"Y-yes, Miss Ceria!"

A long, lanky frame with long, straight hair the burning red of a wildfire.

And in stark contrast to that crimson hair... a beautiful woman with a cold, unreadable expression.

"She's here...!"

Veron bowed at a full ninety degrees to her and scurried out the door.

Click-clack. Click-clack.

The woman had already crossed the room and settled onto the sofa across from Ceria.

And then, quite naturally, she spoke.

"I told you to drop the formalities in private, Ceria."

"Not with Veron watching, I can't. You are a full-blown 'ranker' now, after all."

"Ranker, my ass."

After a brief exchange, the woman set something down on the table.

Clack.

Ceria spotted the object and shook her head slowly before speaking again.

"That goblin mask that doesn't suit you at all—how long are you planning to wear it?"

"You called me here, so get to the point. I'm a busy woman."

"We haven't seen each other in ages and you're still prickly as ever."

Grumbling only briefly, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ceria got straight to business, as her guest demanded.

"Find me a player."

"A player?"

"Yes."

Ceria nodded.

"A Tier 1 player."

Laika has a concept known as the Transcendence Phenomenon.

Going by the name alone, it sounds grand and arcane, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if you think of it in wuxia terms as something like "a realm of martial mastery," you won't be far off.

In other words, it's a phenomenon that triggers when a player of any class performs at a level beyond a certain threshold—and the one that had just activated alongside my sword strike was Body-Sword Unity.

And Transcendence Phenomena usually come bundled with absurdly overpowered effects.

Like so.

To an untrained eye it's nothing more than a faint, barely visible wisp of heat shimmer—but the effects are, quite literally, catastrophic.

Which is to say, if Body-Sword Unity activated while I was already wielding the Moonlight Sword, then a Level 13 common mob getting one-shot was only natural. That was the point I wanted to make.

The reason I was shocked wasn't that the wolf had been cleaved in half with a single strike. It was that Body-Sword Unity had activated at all.

It's not a bug, I'm telling you.

Anyway, the thing about Body-Sword Unity is that it's supposed to be genuinely hard.

It's not something you can trigger the instant you draw your blade, like this.

On the beta server, this was precisely the Transcendence Phenomenon I'd had to jump through every conceivable hoop just to pull off once in a while...

And now it just comes to me. Too easily.

Dodge when I want, parry when I want, swing when I want...

Clang— clang— shhhk—

And this Transcendence Phenomenon—which is supposed to be harder to maintain than it is to trigger—just sustains itself like breathing.

The pale blue-white haze continuously rising from the tip of my blade was all the proof I needed.

Look, sure, the sword was one of the weapons I used the most across my thousand-plus past loops.

But still.

This... is this really okay?

I was in the middle of thinking that when—

That chat message flitted in and I couldn't help flinching.

Some oddly cryptic messages were piling up one after another.

Curious as I was, I decided not to dwell on it.

According to the Awakened Wiki, garbled content like that is unfixable noise—asking about it gets you nowhere.

It would only derail the stream for nothing.

Anyway, it felt like I'd done nothing but hunt, so it was about time I tossed out a line or two of streamer banter.

"Folks, turns out I'm pretty handy with a sword, huh?"

And I don't quite know why, but my off-the-cuff remarks seem to land well with the audience.

Do we just click?

Turns out my long-buried true talent was streaming for an audience of Constellations all along.

Seeing the Constellations having fun gives me strength, naturally.

"At this pace, we might hit the Level 2 zone before 2 AM. More like 1 AM, honestly."

"Yes, folks."

Not that I'm energized by the generous donations or anything. Obviously.

Maybe it's the wolves collapsing in a single clean stroke, but the dopamine seems to be flowing extra freely today.

Would've been nice if it were this easy back in beta.

Swish—!

As I swung my sword in a state of empty-minded flow, Body-Sword Unity still humming around me, my understanding of swordsmanship felt like it was deepening by the minute.

How to move my body when swinging the blade, how to carve the most lethal arc through an opponent's guard.

The more I swung, the more my body felt like it was evolving.

A tingling rush ran through me as two wolves dropped simultaneously, a shiver crawling up my palm.

That spinning slash I'd just landed—by my own judgment, it had been absolutely perfect.

Not that my sword was taking a break while I admired my own work, of course.

Tak-tak— shhhhk—

And then, the very next moment.

"Hm?"

The kill message that popped up next left me a little flustered, I'll admit.

Because among the wolves I'd cut down without a second thought, there'd been one Level 15 rare mob mixed in.

Why are you dying in one hit?

Even if I tried to keep a serene, ascetic expression, there was no managing my face.

That was a Tier 2 rare-grade necklace, which meant I'd just pocketed a good 70 LP or so.

Unfortunately, unlike its obsidian ring cousin, this one doesn't come with a dark-resistance option...

Doesn't matter.

I'll wear it for the day and pawn it on the way home from work.

Excuse me? Why such vicious words?

I flinched, didn't I, folks?

Granted, it's a rare item that never rolls an innate passive, so the odds of it being soulbound are basically zero...

But you mustn't say things so carelessly like that. It's bad luck.

Whew.

The fact that my very first Unique drop was soulbound is going to haunt me as PTSD for a long, long time.

Never want to see it again.

A soulbound item.

Nope.

You think 780,000 won grows on trees, folks?

Haah...

These folks are getting on my nerves again.

Snickering away, the Constellations kept teasing me like they'd discovered a new hobby.

Well, as long as the folks are entertained, that's what counts, I suppose.

But make no mistake—I am dead serious right now.

Frankly, even 7 LP is precious to me, let alone 70.

No—my philosophy is that I absolutely cannot let slip even a 0.7 LP piece of junk.

Which is why, first things first, I bowed at a crisp ninety degrees.

"Thank you kindly, folks!"

And field harvesting is never to be neglected either.

The more you practice harvesting, the higher your proficiency climbs—and the better your odds of pulling pristine by-products.

So no matter what these gaming-illiterate folks say, I will proudly persevere. That's all there is to it.

See? Sweet, isn't it?

Kya—!

And the Fang of Darkness dropped clean on the first try, no less.

This is a secondary material used in crafting Tier 4 daggers.

Which means even as "junk," it should fetch at least 30 LP.

If I were the authority on the Awakened Wiki, I'd put the Field Harvesting trait at the very top of the trait tier list.

I really don't get why nobody else uses something this good.

Why they keep snickering remains a mystery, but with the Constellations this pleased, the stream is running perfectly.

The viewer count had quietly ticked up again, too.

Kya—!

At this rate, I can pick up a nice pig's trotter platter on the way home tonight.

The large one's too pricey, so maybe just one small portion...

Oh my.

In that case, I'll be buying the medium portion, boss!

"Thank you for the support!"

But once I finished harvesting and swept up my loot in one tidy motion, I realized I had a problem.

Following that particular Constellation's remark, I checked—and sure enough, there was barely any free space left in my inventory.

"...!"

If I ever landed a great drop and then had to give something up because my inventory was full... nothing in this world could be more agonizing.

I'd better invest a good 100 LP or so and get myself a proper bag, first thing.

It'd double as a maintenance stop before I properly moved on to the Level 15 zone, after all.

"Whoops, looks like I need to run by the village for a bit."

"I can just tear a scroll, can't I?"

Really, what do these Constellations take me for?

Tightwad I may be, I can afford to tear through a scroll or two by now, thank you very much.

Besides, the time I save skipping the walk back to the hunting grounds is easily worth 10 LP or more, so tearing one actually comes out ahead.

So I fished out the return scroll I'd been hoarding and tore it without a moment's hesitation.

Vwoooom—

The moment my darkened vision cleared and the plaza of Bereshit came into view—

The first thing to catch my eye was... the chat of the utterly dumbfounded Constellations.