Chapter 40: Growth 1
Chapter 40: Growth 1
On a gloomy night, three figures crept through an alleyway, their footsteps dead silent.
It had just rained, so the uneven alley was full of puddles and all kinds of junk and trash, but the three moved through it with a quiet, untroubled ease.
I pulled the view back a little, looking down at the alley from above.
It wasn't just three people. Dozens of them were threading through the shadows, beginning to encircle a single villa.
Just as the circle was nearly complete, the stillness shattered with a sudden shout.
"What the— we're surrounded!"
"Breach! Breach it now!"
A sudden chase erupting in a run-down hillside slum. Women scattering in every direction, figures hot on their heels. The whole scene felt cinematic—a choreography of finely controlled supernatural abilities that played out like a film.
One woman kicked off her heels and was springing off a wall with beast-like hooves when she was plucked clean out of the air. Another tried to melt into the shadow of a corner alley, only for plant stalks that had bored through the concrete to snare her legs.
"Fuck, where'd we leak intel? I know we laid down a solid smokescreen."
"Quit bitching and bolt. They've mobilized everyone nearby."
In the center of the chaos, a man and a woman in immaculate suits were chatting with unnerving calm. Wings of shadow like a crow's spread from their backs as they lifted into the air, while bodies threw themselves into the line of fire to shield them.
Looked like the moment I'd been waiting for was finally about to kick off. The two of them rising with such composure, others desperately blocking the way.
But the suppression team didn't seem too concerned. They were busy subduing the ones in their path; almost no one was actually chasing the pair who'd taken flight.
As if sensing something was wrong, the man turned to the woman, about to speak—
"The hell is— yaaang, ugh..."
"Oh, you son of a biiitch—"
Something silent and swift struck them both. A shimmering barrier that distorted the moonlight, sharp-clawed hands and wings lashing out—none of it made a difference. A projectile so fast even eyes enhanced to a brilliant gold couldn't track it.
Han Ye-ji had fired her tranquilizer rifle.
Damn, that actually landed.
A building rooftop outside the encirclement. The anesthetic darts had crossed a gap of at least a kilometer. From a slow-cycling tranq gun that ran on compressed air, not gunpowder—and the darts flew faster than bullets.
Any flashiness had fallen away; this was Han Ye-ji's trait, evolving toward pure, merciless practicality.
[Talent Awakening: Illusion (幻)] was a trait that let every shot land a second hit. Punching through the barrier to put the man to sleep, batting aside the woman's claw-strike to knock her out too—that was all the trait at work.
The evolved form that followed was [Talent Evolution: Swiftness (快)]. Exactly what it sounded like: a trait that let projectiles accelerate in defiance of normal physics. It didn't increase their physical force—just like a game where a ranged character's passive boosts attack speed but not damage per hit.
A tranquilizer rifle using compressed air naturally has shorter range than a firearm. A standard tranq dart barely makes it a hundred meters, right? Thanks to her trait, the darts flew farther, faster, bullet-swift—too fast for most any Incarnation to block.
"Look at you, finally pulling your weight."
"I've been pulling my weight for a while, you know. It wounds me that catching two ringleaders only counts as 'finally' pulling my weight."
"Uh, seniors? Is it normal for snipers to run in three-person squads?"
"That's because Pyeon Jae-sang here isn't actually a sniper."
But Han Ye-ji, who'd funneled everything from her talent awakening to the Authorities I'd given her entirely into marksmanship, was tearing it up as if she'd been born a sniper.
Faster-than-bullet darts that rode the wind between buildings in the concrete jungle, curving through the air like an over-the-top movie shot. Speed increased; destructive force didn't. Attack speed and damage, split like a game mechanic. That meant getting hit by an anesthetic dart didn't tear flesh or snap limbs, so even the timid Han Ye-ji could fire them off without hesitation. Knowing a hit just meant sleep, not injury—the girl who once cried because she was scared of shooting at a human-held shield was nowhere to be found.
The result: Han Ye-ji's team landed in a very comfortable spot. While everyone else was struggling to hold the perimeter and fighting to avoid excessive force in hand-to-hand, all they had to do was stick close to Han Ye-ji while she sniped. Her standing in the unit had been climbing daily. A senior who looked out for her and a junior who followed orders well—and both were competent. A pretty comfortable office life, honestly.
[The Constellation Lethargic Nightmare praises her marksmanship.]
"Ah, it's all thanks to the Authorities you gave me, Constellation."
Han Ye-ji was being modest, but I couldn't agree. Most of the Authorities I'd given her were basics under 10,000 points. Lightweight stuff—compensating for her worsened eyesight, steadying her hands, regulating her breathing. Sniping an esper who'd just launched into flight from a kilometer away with a gas-powered rifle was purely her own skill.
Compared to Lee Ha-rin, who'd only just started learning magic at the Incarnation Academy, Han Ye-ji's growth speed was staggering, now that she'd fully grasped her own talent. Well, when I looked at the continent's talent-freaks it only seemed staggering from my perspective, but still—she was my Incarnation.
[The Constellation Lethargic Nightmare asks if there is an Authority she desires.]
"A new Authority? Hmm... I'm not sure yet."
"Wow, your Constellation's offering you an Authority and here you are playing hard to get."
"Wouldn't it be better to think it through and pick wisely?"
Han Ye-ji smiled sheepishly as her senior and junior chimed in from both sides. The happier she smiled, the less chance I'd have of securing Fragments of Nightmare. But I had no desire to mistreat my Incarnation over some items whose use I didn't even know—so this was a good thing.
※
The Inland Counter-Terrorism Suppression Team was a government-affiliated agency, half civil-service, but the presence of Constellations in the equation gave it a slightly unusual structure. The territory was divided into sectors, and instead of a fixed salary, they organized into three-person teams and were paid on a contract basis, like athletes.
"Whoa, it went up again? At this rate, aren't you gonna hit the monthly 1,000-point club?"
"Ah, senior. I'm still nowhere near that."
It was no surprise, then, that affection was practically dripping from the eyes of her two teammates, whose own contracts kept rising along with hers. When Han Ye-ji would shiver and squirm away like why are you guys like this with each other, they'd just latch on playfully—putting her in a headlock or hanging off her side in cheerful camaraderie.
Being known as an Incarnation showered in a Constellation's favor drew plenty of envious looks, too. Her senior and junior, for example—they might get an Authority granted as a bonus alongside some of their points when they performed well, but almost no one started out receiving Authorities up front the way Han Ye-ji did.
[The Constellation Lethargic Nightmare wishes everyone continued success.]
"Oh, thank you, Constellation. Honestly, thanks to our lucky charm here, we almost never have missions go wrong, so things are going great."
That said, nobody was dumb enough to actually try messing with Han Ye-ji. A couple of times a month, whenever a major operation was on, I'd blast a sector-wide message straight into their office. And over the past half-year, with her Constellation personally checking in not even monthly but weekly—nobody had the guts to start something with her.
On top of that, the team's operation success rate in their sector meant the whole office saw modest little benefits, so public opinion was firmly on Han Ye-ji's side. If some clueless bitch tried to step up and give her a hard time, the whole office would unite in gleefully tearing that punk apart. Not that any idiot would pick a fight out of jealousy with the junior colleague whose very presence bumped their contract up by about ten percent.
It wasn't just the contract money.
I looked at the office through the screen. A space almost entirely free of fear, filled instead with calm and good cheer and a drowsy ease. Enough people were gathered, and my Incarnation was there, so if I concentrated just a little—
[The Constellation Lethargic Nightmare's avatar appears.]
While Han Ye-ji had been growing, I hadn't exactly been lazing around either.
I descended into the office on-screen, summoning a round of iced coffee—2 pt each—for everyone in the room.
"You're here!"
"What'd I tell you about the over-the-top greetings?"
"How could we help it? That looks heavy—please, let me take it."
It wasn't some grand Descent or possession, honestly. It was just summoning a clone, the same way I'd summon trauma-shades in nightmares. No superhuman physical ability, no esper powers. Just a clone with the average physical specs of a grown man, sent in to have a conversation.
But the clone's impact was immense.
"Wow, it's really the Constellation..."
"Gawking like that is rude, newbie. Get your eyes under control."
Cooped up alone in a one-room where no one ever sees you, you sometimes forget, but my body was the most idealized male form that Lee Ha-rin and Han Ye-ji had sculpted from their dreams. Opinions might differ on taste, but no one could deny it was the face of a beautiful man.
The veterans who'd been through this a few times, pretending they were used to it—and the rookies seeing me for the first time and openly marveling. A near-military organization with an unusually high ratio of women, and into that office walks a sexy, dreamlike pretty-boy handing out coffee and telling them not to doze off. What woman is going to be brusque with that?
Still, I couldn't last long. Barely five minutes. Hand out coffee, smile and say a few words about taking good care of our Ye-ji, pat Han Ye-ji on the head a few times—like a politician on a photo op—and my mental stamina would be completely drained.
When I let my focus drop and came to, I'd find myself slumped in my chair in front of the monitor, barely staying upright. Someday, once my abilities as a Dream Demon grew further, I'd be able to visit the waking world—not just dreams—and actually enjoy the culture of that other side.