Constellations.
Beings who have transcended humanity and gained immense power.
In terms of a game system, they are akin to class change guides.
A powerful constellation was a good constellation, and if one could form a contract with a good constellation, the difficulty of conquering the Tower would drop significantly.
It was even considered the most crucial factor in character growth.
And yet, Kang Han rejected that opportunity.
Probably because of me.
The Constellation of Fire and Discipline, who had approached Kang Han before, was one of the highest-ranking among the benevolent stars.
If her opinion was conveyed this clearly, it was safe to assume that the entire faction of benevolent constellations within the Tower shared the same view.
Conclusion:
The benevolent constellations unanimously want me dead.
Why?
Kang Han didn’t seem particularly concerned about the reason.
Constellations were known to be unpredictable and capricious, impossible to predict.
He must have dismissed this as just another one of their whims.
But I felt unsettled, as if my insides were tangled in knots.
“The constellations hate me. Why?”
I hadn’t even entered the Tower yet, and I was already drawing their attention.
Something was off.
The order of things had been twisted.
More than feeling wronged, I was more desperate to uncover the truth of the situation.
It didn’t take me long to reach a hypothesis.
“The Evil God.”
The fact that I was deeply loved by the Evil God.
Perhaps that was what provoked the benevolent stars.
Now it all made sense.
There was nothing more to add.
I could only swallow the bitterness of an unchangeable situation.
After all the academy’s activities had ended, I was walking back to the dormitory.
Since Kang Han and I took the same special classes, we were heading in the same direction.
My dejected steps must have slowed down without me realizing it, and before I knew it, I was trailing behind him.
“Hey, Kang Han.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t tell anyone about what happened today.”
“What happened?”
“The constellations.”
Kang Han acted as if the fact that I was despised by the constellations wasn’t even worth remembering.
Sometimes, a single action spoke louder than a hundred words.
Had there ever been a time when someone’s indifference resonated with me this deeply?
Kang Han turned around and looked at me firmly, as if hammering in a final nail.
“You, too. Don’t let whatever the constellations said bother you. I’ll never betray you.”
I blankly stared at Kang Han’s back as he turned away again.
A story I had heard before about Kang Han’s fate flashed through my mind.
The Star of Heavenly Slaughter.
They obsess fanatically over a single thing.
There was no precedent for it before, and there would never be another case like this in the future.
The one chosen by the strongest Berserker was me.
“Is this the obsession of the Star of Heavenly Slaughter?”
It was too heavy to be called trust, yet too indifferent to be called love.
I suddenly thought—
Even if Kang Han found out that I bore the mark of a heretic, rather than report me, he might actually go out of his way to protect me.
Looking at his actions so far, it even felt like the natural conclusion.
The Kang Han I knew was the kind of lunatic who would jump into a fire for me, even at the cost of his own life.
In front of such madness, the academy, the Hunter Association, the international community’s condemnation—none of it would matter.
And that was a problem for me.
“That can’t happen.”
As soon as that thought crossed my mind, the anxiety that had been shaking my chest cooled down, turning into an icy calm.
Abandon the world for just one person?
Kang Han was someone who could very well do that, which was exactly why I had to distance myself from him.
Even if it meant being branded as a heretic or a traitor in the process, I didn’t care. I was the kind of person who could survive in the shadows just fine.
If there were an offer to endure a year in solitary confinement for a billion won, I’d start by negotiating for ten years instead.
But Kang Han wasn’t like that.
The protagonist had his own responsibilities.
Clearing the Tower, bringing peace to the world—this was his mission, an extraordinary and grand duty that he, as the main character of this world, was destined to fulfill.
I had no intention of letting him abandon that duty.
And so, my conclusion circled back to the beginning.
“Sooner or later, I have to leave.”
Reaffirming the truth I already knew cleared my mind, as if fog had lifted.
Yes.
What had I been worrying about all this time?
Maybe, without realizing it, I had become weak.
Once I sharpened my resolve again, I felt lighter.
“Doesn’t Joo Yidam seem a little off lately?”
Jin Mugyeol, lounging in a massage chair in the break room, casually brought up the topic.
All of the academy cadets who trained together—except for Joo Yidam—were present.
As soon as Jin Mugyeol spoke, Kim Lara’s eyes widened, and she clapped her hands together.
“Oh my God, I thought I was the only one who felt that way!”
Kwak Dohyeong and Kim Jinsu also joined in, nodding in agreement.
“Yeah, after that terrorist attack, he’s been kind of distant.”
“Hmm…”
The general consensus was that Joo Yidam seemed to be deliberately distancing himself, as if preparing to leave.
There were no objections.
Except for one person.
“That’s nonsense.”
It was Kang Han.
“Joo Yidam would never do that.”
“What? Leave? That’s ridiculous.”
“And how would you know?”
“Yeah! He always skips out whenever we go out together!”
“Even yesterday and the day before that, he went straight back to the dorms.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Kang Han hesitated, unable to come up with a solid rebuttal.
To be honest, even he had noticed something was off about Joo Yidam lately.
Just as his friends had pointed out, Yidam had been acting exactly like someone trying to sever ties before leaving.
They still attended the same classes, but the moment class was over, Joo Yidam would disappear.
This change had been happening for some time now.
“That can’t be right…”
Kang Han tried to dismiss the creeping sense of unease.
But no matter how many times he pushed it down, the feeling kept resurfacing.
Jin Mugyeol, sensing Kang Han’s turmoil, smirked and offered a suggestion.
“If you’re so sure, why don’t you go and find out for yourself?”
“How?”
“We wouldn’t know, but if it’s you, Joo Yidam is bound to react in some way. I mean, you guys are basically dating, right?”
“We’re not.”
“Yeah, yeah, no need to get defensive. Anyway, just go and ask him directly. Find out what’s going on, why he’s been acting distant.”
Smack!
Jin Mugyeol slapped Kang Han on the back and handed him something.
“And take this with you.”
“This is…?”
“The ultimate item that makes girls swoon. By the way, our dear Kwak Dohyeong went through a lot of trouble to get those tickets. If nothing else, use these to lure him in. At the very least, make sure he doesn’t skip out on this trip.”
“Trip? Where are we going?”
“Where else would we go in the summer? The beach, obviously!”
Kang Han stared blankly at the tickets in his hand.
“The beach…?”
“That’s right! The beach!”
The waves crashed.
The sea swayed.
And so did Kim Lara.
She plunged into the water, wearing a form-fitting rash guard.
The people around her scrambled away in a panic.
Though Kim Lara had improved her control over her abilities recently, she still couldn’t fully suppress the electricity coursing through her body.
Diving into the water, she became a human stun gun, shocking anyone who got too close.
“Come on, I told you to go where there are fewer people…”
This was a rare opportunity, and the last thing they needed was to get kicked off the beach for being a public nuisance.
Jin Mugyeol and Kim Jinsu rushed after her, casting a net in an attempt to catch her before she electrocuted anyone else.
On the sidelines, Kwak Dohyeong, the mastermind behind this outing, leisurely sipped his drink while watching the chaos unfold.
I turned to him.
“How did you even get these tickets?”
The beach—
Ever since monsters appeared in this world, the ocean had ceased to be a simple vacation spot.
Unlike land-dwelling monsters, sea monsters had the advantage of escaping into the depths, making them nearly impossible to hunt.
I had heard that immense hunter forces were deployed every year just to keep maritime trade routes open.
In the past, I never bothered with details like this in the game, but now, it was all over the news.
And yet, a private beach, completely safe and secure, existed?
Not only that, but he had managed to secure enough tickets for six or seven people?
“I got them from my father. I’ve been performing pretty well lately.”
Scattered throughout the area, A-rank hunters stood guard.
Not just on land, but out at sea, dozens of boats floated in formation, keeping watch for any incoming monsters.
Kwak Dohyeong, taking in the sight of the heavily fortified security, chuckled.
“It’s my first time playing at the beach, and it’s actually pretty nice. This isn’t an opportunity that comes often, so make sure you enjoy yourself, Joo Yidam.”
Leaving those words behind, Kwak Dohyeong leisurely wandered off, seemingly wanting to take a stroll along the shoreline.
“Hmm…”
To be honest, I had been to the beach a few times in my past life, so it didn’t really excite me.
But for the others here, it was different.
Even under the same beach umbrella, Wi Seoyeon and Kang Han were barely containing their excitement.
“This is everyone’s first time at the beach, isn’t it?”
“Wow, stating the obvious, Joo Yidam.”
“Of course it is.”
I felt like a block of wood compared to their enthusiasm.
Maybe I should pretend to be just as amazed?
I briefly considered it before deciding against it.
Since when did I start caring about blending in?
As I blankly stared at the ocean, Kang Han suddenly spoke beside me.
“But… why are you wearing such thick clothes even here?”
“Huh?”
I followed his gaze and realized he was looking at my heavy outerwear.
It was just as thick as what I wore at the academy.
On top of that, I was even wearing fingerless gloves—the kind I usually only put on for combat.
The reason was simple.
There was something I needed to hide.
I muttered a vague excuse.
“…I just don’t want to get sunburned, that’s all. Why?”
“I just thought you might be hot, that’s all…”
Kang Han was clearly lying.
And then—
“What a waste.”
Wi Seoyeon suddenly chimed in.
“It’s a rare chance to enjoy the beach, but your swimsuit is going to waste, Joo Yidam.”
“Wh-what?”
At her words, Kang Han’s gaze swiftly scanned my body.
His eyes practically screamed that he was trying to imagine what I was wearing under my coat.
Ugh. Creepy.
“Why would you even say that?!”
“Because it is a waste—”
“It’s not a waste at all! And why the hell does this beach have such a weird dress code anyway?! Why do they make people wear swimsuits just to enter?!”
I felt wronged.
I had been rejecting their invitations to hang out more frequently lately, which made me feel a little guilty.
That’s why, when Kang Han showed up out of nowhere saying he went through a lot of trouble to get these tickets and asked me to come just this once, I had reluctantly agreed.
I didn’t know.
I didn’t know that beaches in this world had ridiculous dress codes.
Even worse, I hadn’t brought a swimsuit, so the rental company had forced one on me.
“Hey, keep your hands off my zipper!”
I smacked away Wi Seoyeon’s hands as she kept trying to sneakily unzip my coat, while simultaneously kicking Kang Han as he stared at me with laser focus.
That bastard had been trying to see through my coat this entire time.
Did he think I wouldn’t notice?
“What the hell are you imagining, you perverted bastard? Do you wanna die?”
“N-no!”
It was summer.