D-Rank Constellation Hunter… Stuck Without Internet! - Chapter 122
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 122
In regression cases, those who remember the regressor’s regression—everyone except the regressor themselves.
In possession cases, the key figures who realize the anomaly after the possessor enters another’s body.
How did they manage to defy the laws of the world governed by the Constellation?
The answer is simple.
Because they transcended the baseline that the Constellation manages.
Why would fantasy protagonists be influenced by such beings and feel alienated by them?
It means they’ve stepped beyond the realm of humanity, just like a protagonist would.
“So you’re saying Ha Gyuhyuk has approached something like a transcendent entity?”
“To be honest, calling him a transcendent entity might be a bit premature… but he has definitely crossed beyond the human realm.”
The High Priest narrowed the gap between his fingers, as if trying to indicate that ambiguous boundary.
Barely enough space for a single sheet of paper to slip through.
So if there’s a device that can accommodate up to 180 centimeters, Ha Gyuhyuk would be 180.1 centimeters—something like that.
Still, I decided to take meaning in the fact that he’d transcended humanity.
The High Priest, still wearing an uncertain expression, spoke to me as I cycled through my extreme positivity mode.
“W-well, um, so Constellation. About the compensation… I’ve confirmed that it was paid normally, but due to our negligence in failing to check my client’s karma status, I acknowledge our fault…”
“There’s no particular need to erase this person’s memories, but instead, if my client were to disclose this information, please ensure the other party doesn’t perceive it.”
“Yes, I’ll add a perception manipulation function right away! S-so, regarding the future Constellation System evaluation…”
“Yes, I have no intention of leaving a bad review, so don’t worry.”
I know what he’s worried about.
Unbelievable as it may seem, the Constellation System also receives evaluations quarterly, like app reviews.
Once every fifty years or so.
After collecting evaluations from the Constellations, they conduct massive updates.
Of course, they can’t ask the Constellations to do it themselves, so they work the High Priests while developing it.
Moreover, High Priests who propose the worst processes or services have to write apology statements.
If they accumulated just a little more karma, they could enjoy the comfortable life of a Constellation like us.
But just because they haven’t reached that level, they have to work even after death.
I’d rather not become a High Priest and just stay dead.
“I’ll only write good things, so don’t worry. I’m not the type of Constellation who makes trouble for you High Priests by being difficult.”
“Ah, of course, I’m aware that Se-um has always given the highest rating in all six evaluations so far.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll do the same this time, so you can head back now. If we drag this out any longer, the other Constellations will get annoyed.”
I waved my hand dismissively.
The High Priest startled and bowed deeply toward me.
Apparently, he picked up Korean-style greetings somewhere.
[ Tasha: Have you really given excellent ratings to all of them so far? That’s unexpected. ]
[ Se-um: I was too lazy to read the evaluations, so I just checked them all that way and moved on. ]
[ Se-um: Will that be a problem? ]
[ Franson: Yeah, me too lol ]
[ Tasha: If it were a Constellation concerned about the Constellation System’s development, it would be a problem. ]
[ Tasha: But Se-um isn’t that type, so I think it’s fine. ]
[ Se-um: Still, it was easier. The rightmost option was the best, so I just had to line them up in order. ]
[ Franson: What? The rightmost was the best?? … ]
[ Franson: I’ve been thinking this whole time that the leftmost was the best… ???… What do I do ]
[ Se-um: Wow, this is the worst. ]
[ Tasha: This is terrible. ]
Earth’s spacetime resumed functioning normally once more.
My clients would have no idea what happened during that interval.
From their perspective, time had never stopped, and nothing unusual had occurred.
Only the Constellations were left seething.
The Server had halted briefly, but we were bound by restrictions that prevented us from disclosing this to our clients.
[ Should the Constellation System undergo emergency maintenance or updates, disclosure of such information to clients is strictly prohibited.
In the event of actual disclosure, both the client who receives such information and the individual Constellation responsible shall bear the karmic consequences. ]
It was phrased diplomatically, but the summary was simple.
If you told anyone, your client would vanish from existence as punishment for learning the secret.
Your karma would be stripped bare too.
And the Constellation System wouldn’t compensate you for it, so handle it carefully.
We’ve already written it into the regulations, haven’t we? Just a subtle threat like that.
“Se-um, should I wait?”
Ha Gyuhyuk apparently hadn’t transcended human limitations enough to perceive the maintenance itself.
Like everyone else, he remained completely oblivious to the brief halt in spacetime.
“Ha Gyuhyuk.”
“Yes, Se-um.”
“I was honestly trying my best not to stop you from going in there and causing chaos.”
“I see…. So something came up with the stars that you can’t discuss?”
Ha Gyuhyuk had developed a decent sense of the Constellation System and its Constellations through spending time with me.
He’d matured enough to understand that when I couldn’t say something, it was due to the stars’ circumstances.
Impressed by his growth, I reached over and ruffled his hair.
“There’s something I need to handle right now, so let’s put that aside and spend some time alone together.”
“…. Alone together?”
“Yes, I need some time right now—just the two of us, undisturbed by anyone.”
Normally, we’d go to Ha Gyuhyuk’s home for privacy, but today had a different purpose.
I took his hand and crossed through space itself.
Humans use teleportation too, I suppose, but not like I do.
I’m a god who doesn’t need teleportation stones or anything else.
“Se-um, where is this…?”
“It’s my first time here too. They say it’s a valley with beautiful scenery. No one’s visited since the human who maintained it died three years ago.”
Even among the wildly overgrown weeds, a path remained visible from constant passage.
It was a path created by a man who, after burying his wife, had walked to her grave countless times.
The childless couple had climbed the mountain one last time before vanishing.
Of course, people assumed he had died.
Since so few people live this way, rumors about them never properly spread.
As Ha Gyuhyuk listened to the story up to this point, his expression grew oddly tender.
“It seems you loved her very much.”
“I suppose so. But this story doesn’t end as some beautiful love tale.”
“What do you mean?”
As we climbed the mountain, an expansive vista suddenly opened before us.
Countless stars poured down from the sky, and an eerie silence where even the chirping of insects couldn’t be heard.
A burial mound built in a vast plain, and beside it, a single Ancient Zelkova Tree standing like a guardian.
“It feels quite serene.”
“Doesn’t it? They say no living creatures come near here. As if some divine tree dwells here.”
“Se-um, I can feel the weight of years.”
It was pure admiration without any malice, but the word “years” suddenly made my heart ache.
I’d already complained to Tasha and Franson that I was three hundred years old, and now that Ha Gyuhyuk was acknowledging my age, it somehow felt….
I reached out and pointed at the massive Ancient Zelkova Tree, venting my frustration.
“I’m younger than that thing, you know?”
“What?”
“That Ancient Zelkova Tree is seven hundred years old, and I’m not even four hundred yet! So technically, I’m not old enough to have that kind of weight to my years, right?”
Even I could hear how petty I sounded.
If Tasha or Franson had witnessed this, they would have laughed themselves silly.
As I frowned and threw my tantrum, Ha Gyuhyuk’s eyes darted about in confusion.
“Yes, yes, congratulations on being young….”
What was he congratulating me for?
“That’s right!”
Why was I even saying things like “that’s right” in response?
I’d been swept up in his awkwardness.
I pressed my forehead and sighed. Let me regain control of the mood.
“Anyway, by now you can probably guess what happened, right?”
“Yes, that husband of hers didn’t actually die, did he?”
“Exactly.”
“And probably….”
Ha Gyuhyuk slowly approached the Ancient Zelkova Tree and placed his hand on it.
Green light scattered in all directions, and a strong wind blew through the silence.
The moment his hand touched the tree, a Gate opened as if it had been waiting.
“…He got caught up in it, didn’t he?”
“Perhaps. Ha Gyuhyuk, what you must save from this point forward is one person’s death.”
A space no human could enter.
This Dungeon is now called the Black Darkness Hell.
Ha Gyuhyuk and I didn’t hesitate before leaping into that Gate.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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