Chapter 31: Otaku
Chapter 31: Otaku
People love assigning meaning to things. They invent flower languages for blossoms, birthstones for gems.
Kisses are no exception.
A kiss on the hair means adoration, a kiss on the back of the hand courtship — there's a story for everything.
And universally, a kiss on the foot is widely understood as submission.
A kiss on the tip of the toe is worship, a kiss on the instep is bondage — or so the logic goes.
I've always dismissed flower languages and birthstones as tedious, made-up nonsense,
but at least when it comes to the meaning of a kiss, whoever invented it nailed it.
"Heeuuung—"
"Hey, come on!"
Because there's a girl doing exactly that, even in another world.
That kiss had happened over ten times now.
Not a deep, sensual tangle of tongues, and not a tender face-to-face moment either.
Not even meeting my eyes — she crawls across the floor to press her lips reverently against my toes in abject, groveling submission.
That alone was enough to shatter the edges of the dream. I could see it crumbling vividly.
And Lee Ha-rin, trembling and squirming on the floor, was part of it.
I should've remembered: she nearly had a cardiac arrest when she saw the contract message window, fainted outright when she saw the Authority message window.
For a girl who keels over from just looking at a message window, direct contact with a Constellation — this was inevitable.
The lucid dream factor only made it worse.
Her fanatical brain concluded that no happiness in the world could surpass daring to kiss a Constellation first, and so the dream ended itself.
Nothing like Han Ye-ji waking up from a wet dream right before sex because she climaxed first.
Han Ye-ji wakes from sheer excitement about what's coming next, but Lee Ha-rin flat-out decides that nothing in existence could possibly be more blissful than this exact moment.
So the lucid dream concludes its purpose has been fulfilled and terminates.
Once the purpose is fulfilled, naturally the Authority of the lucid dream ends too.
Which means I have to keep doing this. At least until she gets used to it.
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
With the lucid dream crumbling, there was nothing left to see, so I stepped out without hesitation.
My vision swirled gently, and the familiar view of my studio apartment returned.
Proof I was growing accustomed to the life of a Dream Demon. Not that being accustomed to this was much of a flex.
'...Is this just something only time can fix?'
I need to somehow moderate that fanatical behavior.
I once thought the role of guardian to an affection-starved high school girl was a psychological problem beyond my ability to solve.
And now I'm supposed to fix the mental state of a fanatic brainwashed by unintentional gaslighting?
If I could pull that off, I'd have been called something other than Lethargic Nightmare.
Oblivious to my tangled thoughts, Lee Ha-rin sat up in bed and clutched the old bracelet in her hand, praying.
I'd assumed it was a religious thing, like a rosary or crucifix, but she called it a keepsake from the Incarnation who saved her.
I felt a sting of jealousy, but it symbolized her savior, so I couldn't exactly complain.
Apart from her excessive behavior in dreams, her daily life was textbook exemplary.
Rising from bed, neatening the sheets, a quick wash, then off to the training grounds.
Is morning running a legal requirement for anyone working on their fitness, or is everyone in this world just obsessed with jogging?
Instead of eating breakfast and heading to class, she went to consult with the higher-ups.
This was because her contract as an Incarnation required transferring into the Academy.
"I had faith your efforts would be rewarded."
"Thank you!"
A senior officer shook her hand and departed, after which her staff briefed her on various matters.
Most memorable were the benefits, including a 100% tuition refund.
Watching Lee Ha-rin receive all these perks as she prepared to leave for the Academy as a full Incarnation — impressive, really.
With the faculty consultations done, she was packing when acquaintances began drifting over and dragging her off.
To the cafeteria, empty during class hours.
"You were always singing your dreams out loud — and now you've finally made it."
"Don't pretend you don't know me when we meet on the battlefield~"
Everyone assumed she was headed for the front lines and tossed out well-wishes.
"So, who'd you contract with?"
A casual, offhand question.
A question I, watching from beyond the screen, didn't think twice about — but several students visibly blanched and quietly slipped to the back.
"Ah, with the Constellation Lethargic Nightmare—"
Curious about the reaction, I zoomed in on the students who'd shied away to catch their murmuring.
The crowd pressing around her and the ones slinking off blurred together in the chaos, but Lee Ha-rin was too fired up to notice.
'Hey, why'd you ask her that?'
'Come on, she deserves at least one chance to brag.'
'That one chance is never just one, that's the problem. The instructors let us drink for the send-off, but at this rate she'll talk right through curfew.'
'Is she that bad?'
'That bad is an understatement. You're on duty to listen to all of it. I'd rather run errands.'
So that's why more people gathered than I expected — they were after the freebies dropping from Lee Ha-rin's celebration.
The silver lining was that a few students did take her rambling seriously enough to listen until their jaws ached.
"He's Dream Demon lineage, and his first Incarnation is also from the Eastern Continent, so he'll probably set up base in the east."
"Dream Demon? Isn't that kind of awkward for monster hunting? Nightmares and dream-based stuff—"
Because there were a few more Constellation otaku in the group.
Like military otaku — so-called gun-nuts who memorize every firearm spec, tank model, and helicopter designation.
At the center of the group, Lee Ha-rin and her fellow Constellation otaku were gushing about all kinds of Constellations,
while the rest clustered in twos and threes, waiting for something.
"Well, as his second Incarnation I don't know much about his Authorities. His first Incarnation seems to have joined the Inland Counter-Terrorism Suppression Team... so I might end up in the Fallen Incarnation Suppression Team instead of monster-hunting."
"Hey, your mouth's gonna hurt — at least have a beer while you talk."
Delivery food began streaming into the dorm cafeteria.
The students hadn't pooled their money — the senior officer from earlier must have handed over a card,
because the instructors had ordered a spread and told them to enjoy the leftovers. Sodas, beer, a lively feast.
'Something... something's off here.'
Fried chicken, whole pig trotters, marinated meat — dish after dish arrived.
I watched them eat and drink, thinking how little the food and alcohol differed from my own world.
Searching for the source of the chill settling in my chest.
'There's something nagging at me.'
It wasn't a Dream Demon's instinct.
It was a subtle dissonance — like a single thin line drawn across an otherwise pretty picture, easy to miss if you weren't paying attention.
Whether it was two girls nearly fighting over a chicken leg or someone cussing out the delivery driver after a soda exploded on her pants,
something in the noisy chatter kept needling at me.
"Yeah, well... with a little more effort, I should be able to bloom my trait too."
"Sure, you scraped your way into a contract, no way you can't get a trait. Keep at it!"
I listened with mild interest to the Constellation otaku talk, sipping a can of soda — and then it hit me.
"Right? I hope I get a trait soon."
Lee Ha-rin knew about Han Ye-ji.
What the fuck.
※
Constellation otaku.
In this world, it was a surprisingly mainstream genre.
More precisely: not just mainstream, but arguably the most socially respectable kind of otaku.
In a world overflowing with reverence for Constellations and Incarnations — a world that also has Fallen Constellations and Fallen Incarnations —
someone who can rattle off Constellation and Incarnation trivia might seem odd, but they're not going to attract scorn for it.
if you're a basement-dwelling shut-in who neglects self-care and creepily memorizes every scrap of data, that'd be viewed differently.
And this is a world populated by exceptionally talented souls, which only heightens that dynamic.
But this place was a military academy.
A gathering of the Eastern Continent's elite, driven by the desire to stand on the front lines beside an Incarnation.
Who's going to mock a soldier who studies military science and trains her body while reciting encyclopedic knowledge of Constellations?
If anything, it granted a certain degree of professional credibility.
But this was over the line.
"Another Incarnation's trait gives +1 additional strike? Traits — not Authorities — are incredible for sweeping monster bastards off the battlefield."
"Dream Demon lineage isn't specialized for monsters, though. If you look at the Authorities instead, inland duty makes more sense."
"Have you gotten to consult with the Constellation yet? Or is he the type who just hands down Authorities?"
Lee Ha-rin, giddy with excitement, responded to every volley of questions without missing a beat.
Han Ye-ji got into the inland counter-terrorism team more on her special ability than her Authority.
She communes daily through lucid dreams to receive revelations. Odds are he's watching right now.
An ordinary high schooler who graduated from the Academy in a single year, no sweat.
Either she's extremely well-cared-for by the Constellation, her talent is exceptional, or there's an Authority usage I'm not aware of—
...How the hell does this girl know all that?
Obviously, Han Ye-ji and Lee Ha-rin don't know each other at all.
Same Eastern Continent, sure, but a continent is exactly that — a continent. Population in the hundreds of millions. Not exactly neighbors.
So how does a 22-year-old military cadet know this much about a 20-year-old Incarnation who started at a convenience store?
I flicked my screen over to Han Ye-ji, who was resting after patrol, and fired off a message.
[The Constellation Lethargic Nightmare asks his first Incarnation if she's running some kind of social media.]
"Huh? I don't do that stuff, it's a hassle to manage... should I make an account now?"
[The Constellation Lethargic Nightmare is concerned about his first Incarnation's personal data.]
"What's going on? Any info about you, Constellation, would only be in the national institution database from my consultations, and my personal data as your Incarnation — there's no way that leaks anywhere..."
She turned to her office computer during her post-patrol break and pulled up a website.
Inside the National Public Data Center's Public Interest Data Center section, under the Constellation List Registration category — densely packed digital documents.
Tucked in a corner of the public data portal, where ordinary people would never think to look, was a label: Constellation Data Provision Request.
...So was Lee Ha-rin reading Constellation and Incarnation data from the national data center as a hobby?
I genuinely felt the breath catch in my throat.