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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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Chapter 29: Shooting, Star (4)
Not all Reapers have their memories erased.
Those dragged straight into war upon awakening lose everything, but those who awakened young and received formal training retain certain memories that are never erased—specifically, memories of their training and discipline.
Personal memories from that time might vanish, but knowledge of martial arts, magic, and how to wield their weapons stays.
Such is the brilliance—and terror—of mind-manipulation magic.
‘That’s impossible…’
In Nana, Seonhwa saw Selena.
Their height and hair color were different, but their facial features and aura were startlingly similar.
Especially the way she looked down on people—like they were insects—that cold, disdainful gaze was exactly the same.
Long ago, Seonhwa had been classified as a divine-type Awakener and received training accordingly.
She couldn’t remember the faces of her fellow students well, but the instructors’—she remembered all too clearly.
And no one was more unforgettable than Selena, who appeared in nearly every form of training.
The Last Saintess.
Mother Selena.
Most assumed “Mother” was a term of reverence.
They were wrong.
Anyone in the same field knew the truth…
Her real nickname wasn’t “Mother Selena,” but rather—Mother Fucker Selena.
⋯⋯⋯
"Drop the beat, you little shits. What, never seen a celebrity before?"
Nana's words were outrageous enough to leave the reapers stunned.
Everyone braced for Seonhwa’s explosion of profanity—after all, she was infamous for her temper.
But she didn’t shout.
She only gulped hard, her face tense—like a mouse before a cat.
"Sis…?"
Seongyu called to her cautiously, and Seonhwa gave a faint nod.
"Just do as she says…"
"Wait, are you serious?"
"Yes… You heard the report from the flagship, didn’t you? She healed the wounded… Maybe she can save the Young Master too."
"That may be true, but still…"
"Hey. Baldy."
Nana flicked the blood from her hand toward Seongyu’s face.
"You gonna play the beat or not?"
"Wh-What the hell? I'm not bald! I’m just… shaved!"
Seongyu scowled.
To him, Nana was nothing more than a singer from the city.
Famous there, sure—but out here? Compared to a seasoned Reaper, she was nothing.
And now she dared to boss around a top-ranked Reaper like him?
He wanted to ignore her, but Seonhwa had spoken. He had no choice.
"Tch…"
Swallowing his irritation, he returned to his spot.
He glanced around at the other Reapers, who all wore similar expressions of disbelief, and nodded.
Then, he raised his drumsticks and struck with force.
Boom! Boom-boom! Boom! Boom-boom!
The same rhythm Seonhwa used when performing a spirit rite.
Soon after, the others joined in—hourglass drum, small gong, bamboo flute, and reed flute layered in.
Nana began to sway to the beat, but after a few seconds, she frowned and wagged her finger.
"Tempo up! Push it past BPM 140! You—split the rhythm in half! And you guys—lighten the tone!"
Boom! Clap—Boom! Boom-boom-clap!
The sound transformed completely.
The noise toned down; the rhythm turned sleek and stylish.
What had previously felt like a ritual now resembled club music meant for dancing.
Even the magic circle and talismans on the ground now felt like part of a stage set.
"......"
Seonhwa, still holding Baek Ho upright, stared blankly at Nana.
She moved with the beat.
Light at times, intense at others.
Her arms sliced through the air to the fast rhythm of the drum, and her slender waist twisted in fluid waves in sync with the flute’s melody.
Her swift footwork over the magic circle matched the lively chime of the cymbal.
Moving lightly, she circled around Baek Ho and Seonhwa, beginning to sing—
“Look at how I’ve fallen—look at how I’ve turned grotesque—♬”
A soft, dark glow began to radiate from her body along with her sweet voice.
It shimmered over her skin like a sheet of glass reflecting candlelight, leaving glowing afterimages in the wake of her movements.
The light slowly wrapped itself around Baek Ho.
“Th-This light…”
Seonhwa reached out and touched it, wide-eyed, then looked down at Baek Ho in her arms.
The blood streaming from his face had stopped.
The black, swollen veins that had engulfed his body were beginning to disappear.
“Is she… really…”
“Is a Reaper… healing a human?”
“No way… how is that even possible?”
Unlike the other reapers, Seonhwa understood.
Because she still retained her memories from the Shrine of the Priestesses, she recognized it instantly.
She was certain.
This was holy power.
A pure miracle—one she thought the world would never see again.
But which god could possibly still be reaching out to humanity?
“Shooting star—Crazy star—I'm a fallen star—an incomplete star—♬”
Regardless of the reapers' reactions, Nana's performance continued.
True to her reputation as a famous idol, she moved like a fish in water.
“…Hah.”
Seonhwa’s heart was conflicted.
An undead using holy power?
That was historically proven to be impossible—except in one single case.
‘Hey kid, what’s your dream?'
Selena’s voice echoed through her mind.
It was from Seonhwa’s first counseling session at the Shrine of the Priestesses.
‘To become a Reaper and contribute to humanity’s victory.'
‘Boring. Did you install some kind of AI in your head?'
‘Apologies. Is there a correct answer you’re expecting?'
‘Kid, when I say dream, I don’t mean some grand ambition or guaranteed outcome. I mean something you want to be. Something you want to try. Like love, or se—'
That’s where the memory cut off for a moment.
‘Then, have you achieved your dream, Teacher?'
‘Screwed it up. So I’m banking on my next life.'
‘Next life…?'
‘Yeah, I know it doesn’t exist. What kind of tiny kid is this grounded in reality?'
‘Apologies. Then may I ask what your dream is?'
Selena had tapped her plump lips and answered.
‘An idol. A top-tier idol.'
‘Huh? P-Pardon…?'
‘I love attention. And I’m confident in my singing.'
‘......'
‘If I can’t have it in life, I’ll take it in death. I’ll die in the sexiest pose imaginable, right in front of everyone. What do you think? Pretty badass, right?'
Selena had fulfilled that dream.
She really did die under overwhelming public attention.
Though in historical records it looked like she collapsed in prayer, Seonhwa, who had been her student, knew better.
Her arms were stretched out. Her back arched like a bow. Her hips lifted upward.
It was the yoga pose she used to secretly practice alone, telling the students to study—known as the "cat pose."
That’s why, even looking at the final photo of her death, one couldn’t help but laugh through the tears.
“Freak…”
“If you keep provoking me, you’re gonna see what happens next—this crazy bitch unleashed—♬”
＊ ＊ ＊
I was born with everything.
The wealth of the Seven Mega Corporations.
The prestige of the Seven Great Houses.
The title of being the grandson of the Savior who invented the Reapers, and the son of the man hailed as the greatest among all commanders—a living hero.
But in contrast to all I had, I lacked talent.
Unlike the rest of my family, I didn’t awaken my dark mana early.
I couldn’t even sense it up to my final year at the Superhuman Academy.
If I had been born to an ordinary household, I would’ve already given up and prepared to become a Reaper.
But I had too much to protect—because I had been given so much.
Becoming a Reaper wasn’t an option for me.
In the end, I had to rely on the help of the Elder Necromancers—those ancient monsters who had survived since the Hunter Era.
‘Tsk tsk, they say blood doesn’t lie…’
One of the old men told me.
He said I had remarkable talent.
That if I’d lived in the past, I would’ve made my mark in history as a Hunter.
It wasn’t praise—it was a curse.
‘You’re not suited to be a necromancer.’
After that, I was confined by the Elders in a wide, windowless chamber.
They called it the Trauma Room.
On the first day, one of the old men brought in ten people and said—
‘Kill them.’
He said they were undead, so I shouldn't feel burdened.
When I hesitated, he used dark mana to wound them—
He tortured them brutally right in front of me.
At that point, killing them seemed like mercy.
After that, countless undead were sent into the Trauma Room every day.
And every day, I killed them.
One day, when I refused, the undead knelt before me and begged—Begged me to end it.
Said their families would only be spared if they died.
So I killed them.
‘Still not enough? Let’s raise the intensity.’
This time, an old woman came by.
After that, the corpses of the undead were no longer removed.
They began piling up like mountains.
‘Needlessly soft-hearted…’
‘I have a better method. It’s already been tested.’
After a hunchbacked elder and a fully reconstructed (surgically altered) elder came by, the Trauma Room stopped receiving undead.
Now, living humans were brought in.
Some were said to be Awakened destined to become Reapers.
Others were criminals, supposedly set to become undead themselves.
Either way, they told me not to hesitate—That these memories would be erased anyway.
But despite the calm instructions, the fear in the eyes of those waiting to die was real.
The hatred and resentment directed at me was real.
‘Tsk tsk… such a hopeless dullard.'
‘Isn’t the vessel simply too large? As you know, that child’s body—'
‘Ahem, mind your tongue.'
‘Leave it to me this time. I have just the right trigger to break him mentally.'
The day after those five decrepit monsters spoke in front of me, around day 200 of my imprisonment in that place, as I sat dazed, gripping a dagger drenched in blood like always—a familiar face appeared before me.
My first real friend in life.
Frank.
‘…Y-You crazy bastard! Why would you come here? Get out! Get out, now!’
‘Baek Ho.’
Frank’s voice was calm.
‘Anna died yesterday.'
‘…What are you talking about? Died?'
‘Car accident.'
‘......'
‘She woke up today as a Reaper. Doesn’t remember anything. Not you, not me.'
‘Th-That’s impossible…'
Shocked by the death of the girl I was dating, I stammered.
‘The car’s autopilot was hacked. It wasn’t an accident—it was murder.'
‘......'
‘The police didn’t even open an investigation. There’s only one explanation for that—the culprit is a high-ranking necromancer.'
‘…Was it because of me…? No, it can’t be…'
‘Who knows?'
Frank looked around.
He glanced at the mountain of corpses next to me, then down at the dagger still in my hand.
He stepped in the puddle of blood that soaked the floor, each step splashing softly—and slowly curled his lips into a smirk.
‘Looks like I’m next, huh?’
‘Fuck… This is insane… Everyone’s lost it! You’re all out of your goddamn minds!’
Frank gripped my trembling shoulders.
Wearing his usual carefree smile, he handed me the pistol lying beside him—and guided my hand to aim it at his own forehead.
In my weakened state, I couldn’t shake him off.
‘Let go! I said let go!'
‘Baek Ho.'
‘Shut up, you bastard! Get out of my face!'
‘Remember what I said the day we first met?'
He made a fist-bump gesture with his other hand—just like that day.
‘You said your mom was gone, right? Mine too.'
‘You crazy fuck… I told you to get out…'
‘Baek Ho.'
His voice stayed calm, but his eyes trembled violently.
‘I don’t want to forget my mom. What should I do? If I die like this… I’ll forget everything, won’t I?'
‘Who the hell said you’re dying? Let go of this, damn it…'
‘Just do me one favor. When I’m resurrected, show me a picture of my mom. Tell me she didn’t abandon me. That she did her best to protect me… I know it’s not supposed to work that way, but if it’s you, maybe you can.'
‘Shit… Stop spouting crap already…'
‘See you on the outside, my friend.'
BANG!
That day, I awakened my dark mana.
Covered in Frank’s blood.
When I came to, the five ancient necromancers were gathered around me, full of self-congratulations.
They praised one another’s efforts and began discussing what they could extort from Yeomra Corporation.
To them, I said—
Shut the hell up.
Frank’s body would be taken by Yeomra—and no one would stop me.
If they tried, I would wither the seed they had planted inside my body.
Screaming, I held a blade to my heart.
‘How do you know of that artifact?!'
‘You dare threaten us?!'
‘Everyone calm down. Baek Ho, you too. Put the blade down. That isn’t something to be tampered with. It’s humanity’s last hope.'
The Elder Necromancers didn’t touch Frank’s body.
They also kept their promise to stay out of my life.
Because I knew what lived inside me.
⋯⋯⋯
“So. That’s the artifact, huh?”
On the surface of a black lake, a black tiger stood beside me.
The King of the Mountain.
The Black Tiger.
My second contracted Black Divine Beast.
Maybe because he had shrunk in size, or maybe because I’d grown used to tigers,
he didn’t feel threatening anymore.
At our first meeting, I could barely breathe. Now, I felt nothing.
“How smug. You feel nothing now because you’ve devoted yourself to your inner abyss. I appear this way because it’s what you wished. For a human, your thoughts are absurdly arrogant.”
“Having my thoughts read is seriously unpleasant.”
“What’s more unpleasant is being bound to someone as feeble as you.”
“You didn’t seem to mind before.”
“Ahem. So, what is that thing exactly?”
The Black Tiger raised a front paw and pointed toward the stone pillar standing in the center of the black lake.
The paw, fluffy with dense fur, looked surprisingly plush.
“P-Plush? Do you truly have a death wish…?”
“I don’t know what it is either.”
I turned to look at the stone pillar.
It was about the size of two train cars stacked vertically.
Half-submerged in the black lake, with a smooth surface etched in incomprehensible runes.
“Supposedly, it’s one of humanity’s ancient treasures, divided among the Seven Great Houses. Somehow it ended up lodged in my heart. All I know is that the Elder Necromancers fear it.”
“So that’s why your heart was so tempting…”
“You don’t know what it is either?”
“I do not.”
“So much for the almighty Black Divine Beast.”
“......”
“Kidding.”
I reached out and patted the Black Tiger’s head.
Just as soft as I imagined.
“Grrr... I’ll say it again. This is just an illusion shaped by your own mind. It’s far removed from my true form.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“…So why did you summon me in a place like this? To show me that thing? Or to force me to listen to your tragic little story I didn’t ask for?”
“You already know, don’t you? That I’m dying.”
“I know.”
“Then hurry up and save me.”
“......”
“What, are you trying to back out now?”
Our contract was formed the first time I met the King of the Mountain through X’s introduction.
If I ever faced death without the strength to overcome it, we would meet here—in the fissure between body and soul—and he would help me.
There would be a price, of course.
“Of course not. I’ll do as you ask.”
“Well, that’s refreshingly direct.”
“Naturally. For divine beasts like us, a contract is more sacred than life itself. It’s a fundamental virtue for ascending to higher existence.”
“Hm…”
The fact that he gave in so easily actually makes me uneasy.
“Why are you helping me, really?”
“You’re complaining even though I agree? Tsk... It’d be a waste to devour a contract holder I haven’t seen in ages. To put it simply—it’s livestock farming.”
“Livestock farming?”
“Tsk tsk. It means raising something just to eat it later. How does a human not know that?”
Whoever his last contractor was, they clearly weren’t great.
“…Get your hand off me.”
The King of the Mountain swatted away my hand resting on his head with a front paw and looked up at me.
Even in a smaller form, his gaze brimmed with a predator’s majesty.
“Let me ask you one thing.”
“What is it?”
“Why do you keep sacrificing yourself to help the dead? They’re already gone.”
“No idea.”
As I met his gaze, a dull weight settled between us.
He was reading my thoughts.
“Hmm… Atonement, huh? You’re more chivalrous than you look. Or maybe… there’s a reason you haven’t shown me.”
“That’s crap. It just bugs me, so I do something about it.”
“You’re cunning. I like that—you’re interesting.”
As he finished speaking, the King of the Mountain’s body began to grow, slowly radiating a pressure I hadn’t felt in a while, reigniting my dulled senses.
“Every deal with a divine beast comes at a price. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?”
“I know.”
His golden eyes gleamed as they swept over my body.
Just as he opened his mouth, sharp fangs glinting—
< You… psycho… bitch… ♬ >
“Wait.”
“…What the hell are you doing at such a crucial moment?”
< Completely batshit bitch~♬ >
“You don’t hear that song?”
“......”
“Your whiskers are twitching.”
“…Fine. I hear it. It keeps cursing you, saying you’re nuts. Serves you right for being rude all the time. Even on your deathbed, you get cursed out.”
“Ha…”
As the song became clearer, my dulled senses sharpened and vitality returned to my body.
“Was I already recovering? Since when?”
“......”
“Don’t tell me… You knew and pretended not to? That’s a bit undignified for a divine beast.”
“Seems like some odd little toy decided to cling to you.”
“Funny, why are you suddenly talking about yourself?”
“…Get lost already.”
The King of the Mountain closed his eyes.
Suddenly, I felt someone grab my leg from beneath the lake and yank me down—dragging me back into the depths of the black lake.
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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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