Chapter 143: Twisted Love 1
Chapter 143: Twisted Love 1
The memories I saw were those of a perfect fanatic.
And really, how could they be anything else?
In this world, Constellations are objects of faith and Incarnations are objects of envy.
If you're a gutter orphan selling your body in a back alley
and a Constellation suddenly descends in person to take care of you,
who wouldn't fall head over heels?
The Heart of the Exiled Serpent manifesting without a Descent Ritual was strange,
but if you factored in the unique abilities some Constellations possessed, it wasn't unthinkable.
'Mediocre abilities, but damn lucky.'
Just as the Unfading Giant Tree commanded spirits and World Trees,
and Loyal Fang dealt in animal messengers rather than Incarnations,
the Exiled Heart probably had his own way to descend to the surface without spending points.
Even I, after turning into a Dream Demon, sent avatars all over the place, didn't I?
He secured a pool of cheap back-alley orphans he could exploit with his power,
and among them, by sheer chance, was an assassin boy with monstrous talent.
Sure, it'd take that kind of luck for things to make sense.
A nobody rookie Constellation, a failed entrepreneur,
was attacking the oldest and most powerful Constellation on the continent.
If that wasn't luck but skill, would I even be able to touch him?
A mouse needs at least tiny, cute little front teeth to nip a lion's nose.
Without those tiny front teeth called luck, it couldn't even manage a bite.
Anyway, this assassin was utterly devoted to the Heart of the Exiled Serpent.
And that devotion didn't waver even after he learned the extent of his own genius.
An orphan boy abandoned in a back alley
and an Incarnation formally registered with the government.
The gap between those two lives couldn't be anything but enormous.
Everyone who once used violence and looked down on him now groveled of their own accord.
Every meal was beyond comparison with the food he'd once stolen.
A comfortable house replaced the ruined warehouse he'd used as a hideout.
New, easy-to-move-in clothes replaced the ones he'd filched from donation bins.
All of it was grace bestowed by his Constellation.
'Isn't this basically Lee Ha-rin Mk. 2?'
This mindset was even more deeply entrenched than Lee Ha-rin's.
Lee Ha-rin was saved right before she fell off a cliff,
but this assassin had been dragged up from the abyss itself.
This was Lee Ha-rin, who'd foamed at the mouth and fainted just from meeting me, her Constellation.
Was there any chance she'd ever betray me?
For the same reason, this assassin wouldn't betray his own Constellation either.
Which meant trying to read his heart and sway his emotions to win him over was a dead end.
With that thought, I surfaced from his unconscious mind.
The beastkin guards flanked me like a protective cordon.
The three Incarnations had arrived at some point and were watching me closely.
And beside the Incarnations stood a blond man glaring down at the assassin groveling on the floor.
"My Constellation, if I may."
"No progress yet. You'll need to wait a little longer."
The man—one of the personal guard—spoke up, clutching at hope.
Incarnation or not, he was overestimating me.
Did he think that on the very first day the criminal was brought in, I'd solve the problem the Incinerating Tyrant had set,
identify the link between Constellation and Incarnation, and simply take the assassin off his hands?
People might treat Constellations as sacred, but I wasn't that capable.
I'd only had time to skim a handful of memories.
If this was the kind of simple problem you could solve that quickly,
the Incinerating Tyrant would have handled it himself instead of coming to me.
The man withdrew, his expression like he'd just seen an "Out of Stock" sticker slapped on the one thing he wanted most.
Excessive respect and faith toward a Constellation could be a bit of a problem, too.
Han Ye-ji and Lee Ha-rin approached at once.
Kim Ha-eun was probably still thoroughly engrossed in tinkering with that dream city of hers.
Lee Ha-rin spoke first.
"My Constellation, so—am I correct that we'll be researching the Constellation-Incarnation bond using that man?"
"Yeah. That's right."
I wondered how she'd picked up on the specifics, but when I thought about it, there were plenty of ways she could have.
The Incinerating Tyrant had sailed his warship all the way to the neutral zone that was the Academy.
A story like that was bound to be on everyone's lips and spread like wildfire.
"In that case, I think I might be able to help. Even if only a little...."
"Help?"
"Yes. I'd like to conduct some research using that person. Studying Constellations and Incarnations should benefit my ritual magic work as well."
Earnest, bright eyes beamed at me.
I didn't know much about magic, but the logic tracked.
If you studied the magical connection between a Constellation and an Incarnation,
surely the insights would apply to various ritual magics.
Even if you called it live-subject research, it was studying a magical link—
probably not the sort of thing involving cutting, slicing, or pulling out organs.
As I was mulling that over, Han Ye-ji picked up the thread.
"If you grant permission, my team will take responsibility for surveillance."
"Surveillance?"
It sounded out of nowhere at first, but it made perfect sense once I thought about it.
This was the Academy—packed with office buildings, dormitories, and training facilities.
But there wouldn't be a prison here.
And now they needed a prison that could hold an assassin who could slip past barriers.
Just as Seoul National University's Engineering Building 1 didn't have a secret basement jail for detaining special forces operatives,
the Academy naturally lacked a facility for incarcerating a criminal Incarnation.
No—for that matter, criminals probably rarely made it onto the Academy grounds in the first place.
If they did, they'd be instantly arrested and shipped off to a continent-level prison for Incarnations.
Thinking about it that way made the assassin feel like a bit of a waste.
Assassination aside, wasn't he a prodigy when it came to barrier arts?
Just as hackers drive the advancement of corporate internet security,
this man was the kind of talent who could advance the continent's barrier techniques.
Hmm. If only he hadn't been abandoned in a back alley and reverse-raped by a blonde beauty.
Well, phrasing it like that made it sound like cheap Western porn.
"Are you sure you're okay with that?"
But what could I do?
Regrets, bullshit—what's done was done.
If he'd only deceived the barriers, they'd probably put him to work at the Academy as atonement.
But he'd assassinated a member of the Incinerating Tyrant's reserve guard in the middle of the Academy.
No matter how regrettable the loss of talent, he wasn't going to be forgiven.
"Yes. This isn't just my opinion—the other two share it as well."
As Han Ye-ji nodded,
two figures popped out from among the guards.
The emotions I sensed from them: sheepish guilt and boredom.
Was it because they were physical-athlete types?
They'd landed a honey posting—great pay, honor, light duties—
but having nothing to do seemed to make them more anxious than relieved.
Understandable, since their protectee—me—was practically a shut-in.
Shuttling between the Sanctum and the Academy's patient ward was the extent of my daily routine.
For anything farther, I sent an avatar. Other Constellations' domains were places only I could go anyway.
Measured in a straight line, my commute was a round trip of less than two hundred meters.
And the patient ward was already packed with hundreds of retired soldiers, dozens of Incarnations acting as nurses,
and dozens more guards posted to prevent disturbances—leaving nothing to actually guard.
So the moment actual work materialized, they seemed to jump at it.
"You're saying this knowing it won't be as simple as it sounds, right?"
"Yes, understood."
I couldn't just nod right away.
He might have been captured in a ragged state, but this was a man who had deceived the Academy's own barriers.
He might not be able to evade a city-wide sweep,
but slipping the surveillance of three or four Incarnations and escaping wasn't impossible.
And that was because my girls weren't specialized in surveillance.
A sniper, a druid, and a knight.
An excellent suppression squad for close, mid, and long range,
but keeping a 24-hour watch on an assassin skilled in concealment and barrier arts was a different matter entirely.
"We aren't arrogantly claiming we can handle the surveillance perfectly on our own. With your permission, we'd like to build a team."
"Yes. We intend to form a dedicated surveillance team—not a security detail—and take custody of that man."
"Assuming you grant permission, my Constellation, there would need to be a separate team specifically for moving him between a holding cell and the Magic Building."
Just how much had they hammered out while I was sifting through memories in the guy's unconscious?
I filed away the details as Han Ye-ji's team laid them out piece by piece.
The Academy had two types of security.
Beastkin guards who protected critical buildings, like the Sanctum where I stayed.
And mages who flew patrol over the Academy's secluded areas and main thoroughfares.
there were also beastkin who sprouted wings and flew alongside the mages,
as well as barrier-specialist mages who guarded specific buildings,
but broadly speaking, they fell into two categories: mobile and stationary.
What Han Ye-ji's team was proposing here was the creation of an additional team.
With only one subject to watch, they didn't need much manpower.
Just enough to rotate shifts and maintain 24-hour close surveillance on a single person.
They'd couched it in careful language, but the gist was simple.
'We're really not at the level to be at the Academy. This is far more than we deserve.'
'Compared to the treatment we're receiving, our actual duties feel so trivial it's making us self-conscious.'
'The guilt is weighing on us, so please—assign us something, anything.'
They'd been handed titles with no work attached.
Outsiders brushed it off with, "Oh, they're the sole Soul Healer's Incarnations~," but my girls were too conscientious to tolerate idling around.
Han Ye-ji always did whatever I asked, but lately there'd been nothing to ask.
Jeong Ah-rin had a responsible streak and knew a team leader's duties and obligations inside out.
And Namgung Hui—was it Impregnable Wall?—a knight who followed the chivalric code.
"In that case, fine. Have you spoken with the Academy Chancellor?"
"Yes. We only need your permission, my Constellation."
...They'd swarmed in the moment they heard the news, less than an hour since the arrest,
and while I was busy exploring a criminal's unconscious, they'd already wrapped up all the talks?
It was exactly what you'd expect from a place that gathered the continent's finest talents.
Almost too competent. It was a little unnerving.