Chapter 162: Bounty Hunter 1
Chapter 162: Bounty Hunter 1
The most primal motivator of people is money.
Gold, silver, buildings, land, the large numbers inscribed in bank accounts.
But there are things in this world that money cannot buy.
Things rare and scarce, or impossible to put a price on, yet undeniably meaningful.
In my previous life, that described works of art and the belongings of great figures.
So what value did the objects in my storage hold?
The simplest way to think about it was money.
Gemstones larger than a fist, gold and pure silver worth a fortune.
Enough wealth, if converted to cash—points or no points—to live on until old age.
But what caught the attention of my incarnations and other constellations after my declaration
wasn't mere gold and gemstones, but entirely different things.
Items from other continents or other worlds that money could never dare to buy.
For example, there were several swords in the storage.
Not forged of orichalcum or mithril.
Not imbued with skills like equipment sold in the point shop.
The Constellation settled on the Western Continent, the Thunder that Strikes the Anvil,
had personally hammered out a steel sword using the smithing methods of a fantasy world.
If offered in a ritual and converted to points, it was barely 1,000 pt.
But who would dismiss it as a mere 1,000-point trinket?
The sword forged by a blacksmith who was the last survivor of his world
already contained the craft of a ruined world.
Constellations of knightly origin and those from the murim eyed it greedily.
A blacksmith from another world also took interest and declared:
"If you bring me that sword, I shall bestow two talents upon you!"
"It need not be my own incarnation! I will grant a title to whoever brings me that sword!"
"Offer me that sword, and I will personally fit you with armor from head to toe!"
And the storage contained more than just swords.
There were seeds from another world, sent as a gift by a druid.
A secret manual of self-defense martial arts, written by a murim-in who said it was good for men.
Basic alchemical reagents from another world, personally crafted by an alchemist,
and rune stones from another world, personally carved by a mage.
If converted to points through a ritual, they held little value,
but to those who sought knowledge or wished to satisfy their vanity,
they were items from another world that not even a thousand gold could buy.
Seeds, plants, magical catalysts, crafted gemstones, martial arts manuals good for sexual energy,
home-use energy cartridges, micro generators, and future alloys.
Small quantities, but items that didn't even exist in the point shop.
"I grant you the talent to track mana entities! I won't order you to go to another city... but if that bitch comes to our city, do not let her get away!"
"If I prepare restraints exclusive to Dream Walkers, could you capture her?"
With the world's attention focused as it was,
the constellations who had been watching reacted immediately.
And even the incarnations who craved their constellations' favor.
So while ordinary citizens gossiped about the fallen constellation over drinks,
and incarnations patrolled with blazing eyes to earn their constellations' favor,
I too began to have an extremely busy time at the Academy.
'I just figured they were some expensive things...'
Honestly, when I first looked through the storage, I only thought in terms of money.
Lee Ha-rin had been about to translate their value into currency for me.
But the constellations of this world had prodded at a blind spot I hadn't considered.
'What is this, some kind of trade intermediary?'
Transactions between constellation and constellation.
Why had we needed a skilled ritual mage?
Incarnations had come all the way to the Academy, paying a hefty sum, to seek out Lee Ha-rin,
so that offerings could be delivered intact to the sanctum without being converted to points.
Suppose a murim constellation wanted to buy a dwarf constellation's sword.
Murim constellation > Murim incarnation > Dwarf incarnation > Dwarf constellation.
Direct conversation wasn't possible, so you needed two intermediaries.
The reply would also have to descend through the same steps,
and the probability of the deal falling through was astronomically high.
Now that they were constellations, why would they go hammering out a sword for someone else out of some sense of obligation?
Not as a gift for their own incarnation, but just to sell it off?
In such a situation, I appeared.
Possessing both the justification for the transaction and the ability to hold the ritual.
"My Constellation, another invitation has arrived."
"Were any of them calling for an immediate visit?"
"No, most requested that you visit at your convenience."
True to dwarf nature, they stubbornly insisted they would only forge a sword if it was to repay a debt.
The murim-in rejected the deal, declaring that favors and debts must be clear and that she was no merchant.
She grumbled that with blue blood, how could she reach for a private transaction?
I'd thought it was only natural to speak up and make a trade if you wanted something.
I hadn't known they'd refuse to trade for reasons of racial pride and honor.
And in the midst of all that, I appeared as the justification for their trade, and this was the result.
Invitations piled before me like a mountain.
From high-quality stationery sealed with wax, to scrolls bound with gold thread,
to message birds delivered by pure white hawks and flying magical crystal spheres.
"Keep the invitations safe. But inform the Academy that there will be no private transactions. Add that I offered these things for the greater good, not for commerce."
"Yes, that would be best, wouldn't it?"
But that didn't mean I had any intention of accepting invitations and gallivanting around.
Perhaps because I'd lived through a class-based society in my previous life and was now revered as a constellation,
most constellations held a particular sense of pride.
The salon I visited last time hadn't exactly been a pleasant experience.
And no matter how much we called it medical expenses, these were nominally gifts.
Using them to do business felt like it would only create enemies.
If I'd been thinking about points from the start, I would have expanded my incarnations
and pushed Han Ye-ji, who was crying in fear, onto the battlefield.
Wasn't the whole reason I started this life as a constellation precisely to laze around and flirt with a few chosen girls?
'Thinking about it, it's kind of pissing me off...?'
My very constellation name is 'Lethargic' Nightmare.
All I want is to hang out with a few kindred women and enjoy a leisurely life.
They fight because they're dwarves and elves,
they stiffen up because they're knights and nobles,
and the murim-in go on about the code of jianghu.
They flaunt their pride as they damn well please,
and then they cling to me as their justification. What a sight.
Well, I also refused them all with a plausible pretext, but still.
'I said I don't want to do business with gifts. What are they going to do about it?'
But a nuisance is still a nuisance.
So I'll run away.
I'm used to running away.
※
Woah! A gender-swapped world!
Being cherished and doted on by female incarnations,
I knew the status a handsome man held in this gender-reversed world, but
there were things you felt more vividly roaming the continent than at the Academy.
Like men accustomed to short-shorts instead of knee-length shorts,
or middle-aged ladies striding around in suits,
or gentlemen pushing strollers.
If you glanced past them, it meant nothing,
but if you looked closely, you noticed.
"Your cold brew latte is ready-"
As I set down the vibrating pager and headed to the counter, eyes turned toward me.
It wasn't because my ears were pointed like an elf's,
nor was it the kind of look you'd give a muscular man.
The looks simply gathered because of a handsome face.
My muscular avatar was closer to a sexy Hollywood star,
my elf boy form was like a promising child actor,
but my current body was a slender, beautiful man—closer to an idol look.
"Um, this...?"
"Ah, it's on the house. The cold brew latte line just came out as a new product."
A woman with a reddened face stammered her answer.
Even so, the emotions packed into that cookie were strikingly abundant.
As I smiled faintly and picked up the cookie, her burning face looked ready to burst.
I stirred the ice in my coffee with a slow swirl and took a seat by the cafe window.
I didn't create this new avatar to seduce women.
"Oh, it's starting again."
"Think they'll catch her?"
"Hmm, might be tough. Unless they got backing from a constellation."
Women seated nearby, killing time with their americanos, murmured to one another.
The reason the window seats were packed with both men and women despite the sunlight was that
outside, incarnations were starting to swarm.
"Still, she won't be here, right?"
"Why, you planning to catch her yourself?"
"No way, I'm not an incarnation. How would I catch a mana entity?"
"With those general-ed mana lectures? Give me a break."
"If that worked, she'd have gotten a contract already."
A college student who had just slurped down more than half her coffee in one gulp
grumbled at her friend working on an assignment on a laptop at the next seat.
Even so, I could see the two of them stealing glances in my direction.
Not with lewdness, but with a heavy dose of admiration, their eyes tracing my face.
'Why can't I ever just make an average face?'
Because I build them from dreams, the results are always all or nothing.
Even if I practiced my mana, I never practiced crafting a male face.
Either I create a horrifying ugly mug you'd only see in nightmares,
or a handsome face that only exists in dreams.
Even I wouldn't feel like wandering around the city in comfortable peace
with a Two-Face visage of burnt, oozing scars,
so I had no choice but to pick the handsome face.
But since I was just a pretty face—neither constellation nor incarnation—
no one had the nerve to shove a camera in my face.
"Um, I was wondering if you—"
"I have a girlfriend."
Though there were those who held up their phones.