D-Rank Constellation Hunter… Stuck Without Internet! - Chapter 185

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Side Story 3-1
-The Youngest Constellation’s High Priest Has No Internet
“High Priest Ha Gyuhyuk.”
“Yes.”
“Please ask the Constellations still remaining on the server scheduled for closure to log out.”
“Yes.”
Ha Gyuhyuk approached one of thousands of monitors with an expressionless face.
Another world had walked the path to destruction. All life had extinguished, the planet had exploded, and now barely a trace remained.
What remained was only the karma settlement process for the Constellations.
Constellations who had lost their clients or karma had already logged out, and only those who had clients resisting the destruction until the very end remained on the server.
‘Let’s see…’
Ha Gyuhyuk placed his hands on the keyboard.
[ We will forcibly log out all Constellations currently connected to this server for karma settlement. ]
[ This server will be closed. ]
[ We thank all the Constellations who have been with us on the ‘567Ekdl’ server. ]
This was a greeting written in the manual.
Copy and paste, then select all connected Constellations and process their logout.
During the initial High Priest orientation, I didn’t realize that High Priests had to handle all these tasks manually.
‘Are you really going to be okay as a High Priest?’
‘Yes? Yes. As long as I can work for Se-um, I’m fine with anything…’
‘No, I’m grateful that you care for me so much, but this won’t be easy…’
Se-um seemed desperate to reduce Ha Gyuhyuk’s workload by any means.
She even called him out with ridiculous errands—fetching water or plucking white hairs that would never grow back.
No other High Priest gave Ha Gyuhyuk any hints, but that very fact made him increasingly restless.
‘Even if I don’t eat, shouldn’t I at least earn my keep?’
The Korean instinct carved into his soul—’I must work’—kept tormenting him.
When he finally declared that he should work alongside the other High Priests to some degree, Se-um was so shocked she nearly fainted and asked:
‘Has your love for me grown cold?’
‘What?’
The other Constellations barely managed to stop Se-um when they witnessed Ha Gyuhyuk’s entire being literally bleaching of color in real time.
‘Se-um, I think you went too far just now. If he weren’t a High Priest, he would have died.’
‘Oh, I’m… I’m sorry. I was just so shocked. In all my lives—born and dead—I’ve never seen anyone volunteer to suffer like this.’
‘Those who always pursue academic value deserve respect. Experiencing it once is also a good method.’
‘But why would he choose to suffer? Is it because he’s young? But Se-um raised him cleanly from the moment she became a Constellation, without letting a drop of blood touch his hands, nurturing him with karma. He’s someone you raised so carefully!’
The voices of many were ultimately pointing to one thing.
Once you leave home, life is hell, so don’t do anything strange and just stay here.
Ha Gyuhyuk would have preferred that too, honestly.
Of course it would be better for him to stay beside Se-um.
But there was something that bothered him—a High Priest named Baek Han who served beside Sungho.
Unlike himself, who only served Se-um, that High Priest also attended to Sungho and seemed to go down below frequently to work.
‘Wouldn’t you be busy working like that?’
‘All High Priests live this way! I’m actually incredibly comfortable because Sungho Constellation takes care of me. The other High Priests are all jealous of me.’
Ha Gyuhyuk’s conscience pricked sharply as he realized he’d never even been close to where the High Priests worked.
It was the moment he suddenly grasped how Se-um had been shielding him from work all this time.
So rather than burdening someone precious with additional responsibility, he thought it better that he step forward and do at least some work himself.
‘Don’t worry. I’ve done all sorts of work before, so I think I’ll be fine. And… I want to become a High Priest that Se-um can be proud of, just like the other High Priests, by becoming a bit more professional.’
Ha Gyuhyuk knew exactly how to act to make Se-um’s heart soften.
Sure enough, the moment those words left his lips, his kind Constellation—despite seeing right through him—melted and let it slide.
It was her way of saying that if he was going to think such admirable thoughts, she had no choice but to arrange some work for him.
And so from that day on, he was assigned duties at the place where the High Priests worked.
It had the grand title of “Closed Server Management,” but in reality, it was just copying and pasting text, then pressing Enter.
“Everyone has logged out.”
“Yes, yes, you can go rest now.”
Really, it was just copy, paste, and logout—that was all.
Hundreds of servers disappeared every single day, yet not all of them had Constellations accessing them.
Like the Earth of old, some places had no one logged in at all, and some servers had their connections to the Constellation System severed entirely.
In reality, Ha Gyuhyuk processed barely a hundred or so per day.
“Is there anything else I can help with?”
“I think we’re fine for now! But in a bit, one of the servers hosting a competition will be shutting down, so there might be more work when I have to report the results!”
“Ah, yes…”
A hundred might have been a terrifying number when he was human, but he wasn’t human anymore.
He found himself thinking the work was boringly sparse.
He vaguely sensed that Se-um and the other Constellations had heavily influenced this leisurely position of his, but he didn’t bother asking about it.
Instead, he felt a flutter of excitement at Se-um’s love for him and at the strength of his master who could wield such power so effortlessly.
If the people at Touch One had seen him, they would have thought he’d developed some kind of obsession in their absence—such was his reverence.
His conscience nagged at him to spend at least some minimum time here, but he always wanted to see Se-um.
With no work to do, whenever his body wasn’t busy, her face and voice would surface in his mind.
Just as he was entertaining the shameless thought of simply continuing to be doted on, a message arrived as if she’d sensed his feelings.
[ Se-um: What are you doing? Are the kids keeping you busy? ]
Did she send this message knowing he wanted to see her?
She truly was his god.
Every time he missed her, every time she came to mind, she revealed her presence like this—if that wasn’t divine, what else could it be?
He didn’t even try to suppress the corners of his mouth rising naturally as he typed his response.
[ Ha Gyuhyuk: No. There’s no work. ]
[ Se-um: If there’s no work, why are you keeping the kid there? Are you refusing to let them go? Are you being territorial? ]
[ Se-um: Should I come pick you up? ]
He barely managed to stop his hand from reflexively typing ‘Yes.’
Strangely, Se-um had the ability to turn Ha Gyuhyuk—who had to be endlessly mature—into a child in an instant.
She made him whine, act cute in ways unbecoming of him, and resort to anything to draw her attention.
‘I love you no matter what childish thing you do, so don’t worry.’
While offering that fantastic smile that inspired such unwavering trust.
Ah, this is trouble.
I really wanted to abandon everything and rush up to the floor where Se-um was.
[ Ha Gyuhyuk: I miss you, Se-um ]
That was when the problem occurred.
It was the first time I’d seen this since becoming a High Priest. The message he’d sent had a strikethrough drawn across it.
There was no way someone had deleted the message.
As he felt the confusion and began typing again, strange, eerie sounds erupted from all directions.
“Huh? Why is this happening?”
“Oh, wait. Really?”
“Hey! Get the System Team!”
“The broadcast! The broadcast!”
Suddenly, the entire room where the High Priests worked descended into absolute chaos.
Only then did Ha Gyuhyuk realize that something had gone seriously wrong.
This wasn’t a message deletion—it was a transmission failure alert. He quickly turned his body toward another High Priest nearby.
“What is happening?”
“Ah, well….”
“Yes.”
“When galaxies collide or when the apocalypse servers undergo simultaneous shutdown procedures, it sometimes affects the Constellation System. And occasionally, the connection to the Constellation layer gets severed.”
“Pardon?”
As he furrowed his brow, not quite understanding, the High Priest’s face grew troubled.
He recalled the faces of several Constellations wearing expressions that said, ‘If you don’t treat us properly, we won’t stay quiet,’ and he sighed.
He was from Earth, after all.
A similar term….
Ah.
“A blackout, I suppose you could say?”
“A blackout….”
“To put it more simply.”
“Yes.”
“The Constellations’ internet connection has temporarily been cut off.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————