003. The Mischievous Prankster

"That's not it, you little brat!"

"Gah... p-please... let go of me..."

I had been so furious that I'd grabbed Ping and started shaking him before I even realized what I was doing.

"Ah... s-sorry!"

"Phew... I thought I was a goner."

The moment I let go, Ping spun in place, dizzy, and only barely managed to collect himself.

"Constellation! Please be careful with me. I told you, I'm fragile!"

"Sorry..."

"Anyway, what do we do now? Sponsorship is where everything starts, and it's not like both of you can sponsor him at once."

"Is that really me? Was I seriously that far gone? Who does he think he is, putting off a sponsorship like it's optional? He's a complete lunatic, isn't he?"

"That is definitely Kanghyuk from twenty years ago. Nothing about him has really changed yet."

Honestly, Ping didn't even need to say it. Even hanging upside down and looking, it was obviously me. I just didn't want to admit it.

"Yeah... that's me alright... It's like watching the cringiest home videos of my foolish years play on the big screen at my own wedding..."

I was so mortified I wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere. To think I had once been a human being condensed entirely out of absurd self-love.

"Kanghyuk hasn't been hurt yet, and he hasn't tasted how bitter the world can be, so isn't it only natural?"

"Even so, that's taking it way too far."

"Let's set that aside for now — didn't you say he was never once chosen by a constellation? Who exactly is the Mischievous Prankster?"

It had been so long ago that I had to rummage through my memory for a moment.

"Ah! Now I remember. Even before I awakened, there was a constellation who would unconditionally offer a sponsorship the moment anyone else did."

"There was a constellation like that? Could someone really have that much divine power to spare?" Ping asked, tilting his head.

"He never gave a single person a proper reward."

"What? I've heard some constellations are useless, but why on earth would anyone do that?"

Back then, I'd assumed he simply couldn't find anyone worth sponsoring properly. There had even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been a theory that, like Britain's Excalibur, he was searching for a bearer worthy of his power.

"I thought he was looking for a wielder to his liking... but Ping, from what you're telling me, offering a sponsorship doesn't cost any divine power at all, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. Divine power only gets spent after a contract is signed — on quest rewards or gifts."

"So once a contract is made, can it not be terminated?"

"...It's not impossible, but I hear it's extremely difficult. Termination used to be easy, but as competition among the constellations grew fiercer, they deliberately made it harder."

Ping thought a little longer, then added,

"Ah... and most humans probably don't even know termination is possible in the first place."

"Then it's settled. The Mischievous Prankster really was just playing a prank..."

"A prank?"

"Yeah, a prank. For years after that, victims kept popping up. Maybe he was just testing the waters to see if anything would bite. Or maybe he truly did it purely for his own amusement. And if a contract actually went through, he'd simply abandon the poor soul from then on."

"Then what do we do? Should we start a barrage of gifts for Kanghyuk right now? Constellations who take a real shine to a particular player do that sometimes, you know." Ping stamped his feet in midair.

"Do I have any divine power to spend?"

"Not much, but..."

"Then we watch."

"What if Kanghyuk ends up signing a contract with that constellation?"

"He'll be fine. More importantly — today is the day I first awakened, isn't it?" I said, rapping a finger lightly against Ping's head.

"That's right. As I understand it, no matter who ends up chosen, you return to the day of your awakening. And please tap more gently."

Hearing that, I realized I had been drumming on Ping's head without even noticing.

"Next time I'll pat more softly... no, wait, it wasn't the head-patting that was the problem, it was how hard I—"

"Uh... hmm... somehow it feels oddly calming, actually... but anyway, please be careful!"

"Fine, I'll be careful from now on. But if today really is my awakening day, I think if we wait just a little, something might work itself out."

"Oh? Is there a way?" Ping asked, head cocked — and once again, it was a rather cute look.

"What's the limit of what I can do with the divine power I have right now? Could I possibly take direct control of my own body?"

"Oh! I forgot to explain that part." Ping jolted in surprise.

"A whole Ten-Minute Descent Free Trial! You are granted ten minutes to descend into Kanghyuk and move his body with your very own hands."

Ten minutes. What an awkwardly ambiguous stretch of time.

"Ten minutes? In ten minutes, couldn't I just fight the Black Gate battle myself when it opens?"

"Because then you couldn't use divine power to weaken the Constellation of Ruin. There's no guarantee you'd win within ten minutes — you can't do two things at once, you see."

"I see. Then how about coming down to land just one single hit?"

"Descent puts a strain on Kanghyuk here on Earth as well, so unless you become tremendously stronger, I'd advise you to refrain."

So if I did become tremendously stronger, I could come down and land one hit, then?

"Got it. I'll think about that later, then. Anyway, it's ten minutes in total, yes? And divine power can extend that?"

"Yes. That's true, but I don't recommend it. The efficiency relative to the time spent is dreadful."

"Then what about the Constellation of Ruin, the one coming to open the Black Gate?"

"As I said before, he's the type who stakes his very life on the game... And the reason he needs all that preparation is precisely that it's the process of squeezing out the best possible efficiency."

"So the Black Gate could open even earlier than that?"

"Technically, but opening the Black Gate requires following a strict sequence and completing certain tasks, so it's nearly impossible. Worst case, I'd say it might open the instant the Purple Gate is wrapped up."

That was a small mercy. I'd assumed a man willing to gamble his life on flipping the game board might pull any manner of insane stunt. Even so, I figured I'd better plan for it anyway.

"Regardless — if I can move my own body for ten minutes, then maybe if we wait just a little, I can settle this whole thing."

"What is it?" Ping stamped his feet again.

"Not telling."

"Ah! Come ON!"

With his tiny little hands, Ping began yanking at my hair. Not that I felt much of it.

"Kuh! Such is the popularity of yours truly! It's barely been any time since I awakened, and already two constellations are fighting over me?"

Kanghyuk savored the pounding of his heart, drumming with anticipation.

"Before long the entire nation will know my face, won't they? Though too much TV exposure does get tiresome. Should I start leaning into a mysterious-hermit persona from now on?"

Kanghyuk, soaring on flights of fantasy all by himself, then declared,

"'Toughness,' eh. So this is the body of a future world-class tank!"

He dug out a pot lid from the kitchen and mimed fending off blows with it as a shield.

"Kuh! Yes, this is exactly it. The shield that blocks every attack. None shall pierce me! They could hammer on me all day and never break through!"

Giddy beyond words, Kanghyuk hummed a jaunty tune as he got dressed.

"First, I'll swing by Hunter's World and browse some shields. Calling a taxi first!"

Ordinarily he would have taken the bus or the subway, but a future world-class hunter could hardly tremble over a measly taxi fare.

"Hello there! You booked a ride, yes? Taking you to Hunter's World."

"Yes! That's me!"

Naturally the driver knew the destination — Kanghyuk had made the reservation himself — but Kanghyuk, hopelessly infatuated with his own image, was convinced the man had simply taken one look and recognized a hunter.

Perhaps because it was the weekend, the roads were jammed with cars, and the stretches of standing still grew longer and longer.

"Driver, I'll get out here."

"You want out here?"

"Yes, please pull over just ahead. Thank you."

Deciding it would honestly be faster to walk, Kanghyuk stepped out of the taxi.

"Haaah~ What lovely weather~!"

It wasn't actually lovely weather, but the world looked beautiful to him today.

At least until an alarm began wailing in the distance.

Beeeeep— beeeeeep—

"What? Did a gate burst? Where did this alarm come from out of nowhere?"

He had awakened, sure — but with neither education nor training as a hunter to his name, cold sweat beaded on Kanghyuk's skin.

"What is it? Where?"

"Is it near here? E-evacuate — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠where's a shelter?"

The people around him were just as flustered, scrambling for somewhere to flee, when—

"Kyaaah!"

A tearing scream ripped through the air. People came pouring out of an alley not far from where Kanghyuk stood — and hot on their heels came a small green monster. A goblin.

"Why are they bursting out HERE of all places!"

In games, goblins were the bottom-of-the-barrel mobs, but a gate was a different beast entirely.

"Could I even take one? No way — you need to be at least E-rank for that... and I don't even know my rank yet."

Awakened he might be, but Kanghyuk couldn't reach an easy judgment.

"Run!"

His stunned hesitation lasted only a heartbeat. At someone's shout, everyone broke into a sprint. Kanghyuk too ducked swiftly into an alley the goblins weren't spilling out of.

"Why is it following ME!"

Goblins are fast. Not that they're leagues faster than a human, mind you — but like a monkey at the zoo, this one was using every scrap of terrain to fly about with what was practically three-dimensional agility.

"Unbelievable! Who does it think it is, some kind of ninja!"

Chills crawled up his arms at the sight of it bounding off utility poles and building walls as it closed in.

"I need somewhere to hide."

The moment he rounded a corner, a building under construction came into view. The safety fence would normally have been shut, but the workers must have bolted in a hurry too — it hung wide open.

Please, please, just pass on by.

Hiding on pure instinct deep inside the site, Kanghyuk held his breath and prayed, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and prayed, but—

"Krrk."

The goblin's tongue-clicking at the site entrance paid his prayers no mind.

No! Please, please.

Just as cold sweat began streaming down his back, a notification window bloomed before his eyes.

"Yes. YES! Please, save me!"

Kanghyuk accepted without a flicker of hesitation. And then came the strangeness — the sensation of glimpsing yourself from the outside in the middle of a dream. His body was slipping beyond his control.

"Whew. Things had shifted a little from the original timeline, so I really thought even that incident wouldn't happen."

I heaved a sigh of relief.

"Constellation, something like that happened to you before?"

"On the day I awakened, I went out to buy a shield and a gate burst open on me. It was traumatic enough that I never forgot it. I thought hailing a taxi might change the future, but thankfully? I'm not sure 'thankfully' is the right word — that part didn't change."

"So THAT's why you said you had a way. Does his life actually end up in danger back then? And then you swoop in with a ta-da! to save him — I get it now."

"No. Back then I was on a bus. A few goblins did latch on a little later, if I remember, but everyone was too busy shaking in terror, and the hunters took care of it soon enough. I was just planning to persuade him to go save the other people."

"Pardon? Kanghyuk is being chased as we speak?"

"...Huh. You're right. This is a little dangerous?"

"'A little dangerous'? What do you mean 'a little dangerous'? Kanghyuk looks about to die! Quickly — sponsorship! You have to send the sponsorship request! What are you doing!"

"O-okay, okay."

He was me, and yet for some reason the me of twenty years ago felt like a different person, so I'd been watching in something of a daze — and then snapped out of it.

The instant the sponsorship request went out, my trembling younger self snatched up the acceptance without a second's delay.

"Well then, I'm off."

"GO, hurry!"

The app had the Descent icon displayed nice and large, so there was nothing to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ask.

Whoosh!

A sensation of being sucked away somewhere washed over me, and the vantage point I'd been watching through a screen flipped into first person.

"So this is my body as it stands now? Frail."

No injuries, at least — but the utter lack of conditioning was a shame.

"Still, this much will do."

All it needed was the power of a constellation breathed into it.

Conveniently enough, a sledgehammer lay on the construction site floor. I picked it up.

"Good heft! Though it'll take a little time to get used to, hm?"

A few practice swings, and I could feel the synchronization slowly clicking into place.

"Kerrk!"

By then, the goblins that had entered the site must have finally spotted me, because they came flying in, kicking off the walls.

I committed their erratic, scrambling movements to my eyes. No comparison to Breaker, true — but a sledgehammer was still a blunt weapon with a satisfying, weighty bite.

"Not conditioned yet, so I can't pull much power out of this."

I hadn't properly wielded a constellation's power yet, but my gut told me that going all-out was beyond this body.

"Quick and clean, quick and clean."

The instant the ricocheting goblins entered range, I planted my lead foot forward and swung the sledgehammer, riding the centrifugal force.

Whuum.

The sledgehammer, swung by a body surging with a constellation's power, split the air with a low, singing roar —

KRAK-SPURT!

— and the goblin caught within that arc burst apart in every direction as though it had taken a bomb point-blank.

Whuum.

Whuum.

A mere three swings in all — that was everything it took to finish off every goblin that had come charging.

"Got a good look at that, you cringe-inducing little brat?"

There was so much more I wanted to say, but I swallowed it all down, left those parting words behind, and released the Descent.