Little Pink Starfish

Han Iro set down the eco bag filled with groceries and exhaled deeply.

It was a healthy, contented breath.

If someone saw him, they’d think he’d just returned from a morning walk to a spring!

As for me…

“Urgh… ughhaa…”

I was sprawled out on the living room couch, panting like I was about to pass out.

I felt like I was dying.

Maybe it was the lingering side effect from overusing the Violin of Tainted Blood.

My stamina definitely seemed worse than usual.

Does Han Iro go up and down this steep hill every day?

“Seriously… why would you get a house here…? Your company’s pretty big, right…?”

Hanbit Entus, Han Iro’s agency, was the same company where Adel, who used to perform with Rowen in Codess, was an executive.

It wasn’t a traditional mega-agency like YN Entertainment, but it housed many talented artists.

As Han Iro unpacked the groceries, he turned toward me and—

“Isn’t it nice?”

—asked with a smile.

No. It wasn’t nice at all.

“It’s quiet, and the view’s pretty good.”

He looked around the living room as he spoke.

“Going up and down every morning helps with stamina too…”

“That’s the kind of training a lonely boxer does in the corner of a city. No one builds stamina like that these days…”

“Fair point.”

He chuckled and shrugged, then turned around to fill a pot with water.

“I grew up in Gangwon Province, so I still haven’t gotten used to crowded places. It hasn’t even been a year since I moved to Seoul…”

Hands on his waist, he mumbled softly.

If it hadn’t been a year, then it meant he hadn’t been aiming for CYB for very long either.

From what he’d said about his past, it seemed like his contract with Love Born with Bubbles went back quite a while…

“I don’t like crowded places either.”

I said to his back.

“My hometown was kind of remote too.”

Because it was near a contaminated zone where miasma flowed…

“Really?”

Han Iro turned to me, rolling up his sleeves.

“Anyway, just rest. I’ll cook.”

“Okay. In that case, I won’t hold back…”

I yawned and turned on the living room TV.

It was all CYB coverage.

“Now, our CYB finalists are continuing to be revealed!”

The variety show host spoke with enthusiasm.

“That’s right, that’s right. Personally, I’m totally into the child actor category. There’s this one contestant who’s just so cute…”

A panelist responded with a fond smile.

At the mention of “child actor category,” I reflexively glanced at Han Iro’s back and quickly changed the channel.

“Now for some international CYB news. A contestant with an incredible background has appeared this season in the U.S.—the child of legendary hunter Mateo Bernstein…”

Mateo Bernstein?!

The moment I heard that name, I shot upright on the couch.

In my mind, The Star Hated by All’s voice echoed.

that is the face of the so-called ‘Citadel Built at the Edge of the World’?>

Mateo Bernstein’s youthful face was on the TV screen.

The Citadel Built at the Edge of the World, Mateo Bernstein.

He was literally humanity’s last hope.

Not a symbol—he himself was the final citadel humanity had to protect.

Hence the nickname.

‘Huh? What’re you talking about?’

‘What…’

I touched my lips, wondering what kind of face I’d been making.

Still, I was surprised.

Mateo Bernstein had kids?

He’d vanished suddenly after the final gate closed…

And now, his child was competing in CYB?

What a storm that must’ve caused.

“I wonder which category they’re in…”

As I focused on the TV to find out—

BOOM—!!

Something exploded in the kitchen.

“What the hell?!”

I shot up from the couch and ran to the kitchen.

“Han Iro?! Are you okay?!”

“Ah… Eunyul.”

Han Iro looked up, startled.

“Why… why did it explode…?”

An awful smell was coming from the microwave on the counter.

I opened the microwave door.

“What do you mean, why?”

Inside, it was a disaster zone.

Egg residue had splattered everywhere, and a burnt fishy smell was wafting out.

I sighed and looked at Han Iro.

“You can’t cook, can you?”

I asked bluntly. He gave me a sheepish smile and nodded.

“…Then why take such good care of your garden? Is it for decoration?”

“I use them in salads, so it’s fine…”

Rowen was the same way—do all Constellation contractors from Greek mythology just suck at cooking?

Grumbling, I grabbed the wet wipes container.

“Let’s clean this up first and check if the microwave still works.”

I handed Han Iro a wipe.

After we cleaned up the egg mess and ran a test, it turned out the microwave was still functioning.

So he washed all those veggies and just dumped dressing on top…

I opened the fridge.

Besides what we bought today, all he had was stuff like fresh fruit juice.

Han Iro watched me nervously.

I wanted to scold him about how eating like this would get him killed, but…

“Just go rest…”

I nodded toward the living room.

He probably went to a lot of trouble to prep things for me, so I decided to spare him the lecture.

I rolled up my sleeves.

“Got anything you want to eat? I’ll cook.”

---

If everything had gone according to plan, Han Iro would have served me mushroom hot pot and various seasoned greens.

He must’ve looked up a YouTube recipe, because the ingredients were perfectly portioned for two.

I hadn’t realized while shopping, but he’d planned it out pretty thoroughly.

Had he looked it up just for me?

I cooked the menu he’d intended.

Han Iro, who’d been resting in the living room, dashed into the kitchen as the smell hit.

“Eunyul, you’re really good at cooking!”

He peered into the bubbling mushroom hot pot.

“Just kinda happened that way.”

I replied, ladling out some broth.

“Want to try?”

“Mm…”

He blew on it and took a sip.

“Ah… it’s really good.”

“Right?”

I grinned in satisfaction.

“It’s almost ready, so can you set the table?”

“Okay, got it!”

Han Iro responded energetically and moved to prepare.

And so, our dinner ended smoothly.

With full stomachs, fully prepped, Han Iro and I sat side by side on the sofa.

I mirrored my phone to the TV via Wi-Fi and opened Neobus.

There was about an hour left until the behind-the-scenes program of the third-round auditions for the male idol division began.

A countdown timer appeared on Neobus.

“I have a few questions. Mind if I ask?”

Han Iro said, staring blankly at the timer.

“Go ahead.”

I agreed easily.

“Except ones I really can’t answer.”

Like I said on the rooftop in Jeju, Han Iro was my competitor—I couldn’t give away everything.

I knew he was a good guy, but I couldn’t lose my focus.

“First question. The lyrics for your contest song… You rewrote them all by yourself, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

How did he know?

It wasn’t a big deal, but still…

“How’d you guess?”

“Just had a feeling. It was a gut instinct, don’t worry.”

He gave me a lazy smile.

“Second question. The staff said you collapsed from overwork… but that’s not true, is it?”

“It was overwork.”

I answered without hesitation.

In reality, it was the Violin of Tainted Blood resonating with a spirit in Jeju that caused it…

I couldn’t let Han Iro know that.

A violin that summoned spirits?

Aside from its beauty, it was basically a cursed artifact.

If anyone knew about the penalty tied to my strongest move, I’d be in serious trouble.

Though, I figured people might realize the violin I played near the end of the performance was conjured via Constellation power.

Part of me hoped they’d figure it out.

After all, I was known to be contracted with an unnamed Constellation, and was seen as a walking time bomb.

A Constellation’s nature could boost a participant’s popularity.

The more powerful the Constellation, the more attention they got, and the higher the expectations.

The best way to stay in the spotlight while hiding the Constellation’s identity—

Was to provoke curiosity through its abilities.

…Not that I expected to faint, though.

“Really not a lie?”

Han Iro pressed again.

“Of course not. It’s the truth.”

I said without a change in expression.

“Hmm.”

He grinned slyly and stared at my face.

“Well, okay. If you say so. Then one last question. You said you only fainted from overwork, so why…”

Han Iro said quietly,

“…does your body still look like it’s not doing well?”

“That… I can’t answer.”

Crap.

I accidentally invoked my right to remain silent a bit too obviously.

Even though my stamina had permanently dropped, I hadn’t shown any signs.

Even I hadn’t noticed until I climbed the hill to Han Iro’s place.

Doctors hadn’t picked up on anything either…

Could Han Iro see my status window?

No, that couldn’t be.

Even Love Born with Bubbles—Aphrodite, an S-rank Constellation—shouldn’t have that kind of authority.

It’s not like she was Nightingale, able to diagnose people on the spot…

“Eunyul, earlier you were doing fine…”

Han Iro, with a look that reminded me of Rowen, opened his mouth.

“But right now, everything you’re thinking is written all over your face.”

“What do you think I’m thinking?”

“Well… it’s hard to explain in words. But if I had to…”

His eyes sharpened.

“Something like, ‘I don’t care what happens to my body.’”

No…

“You’re thinking that, aren’t you?”

No. I wasn’t.

I really wasn’t.

Absolutely not.

“You’re wrong.”

I said firmly.

“…Yeah?”

Han Iro looked unconvinced as he turned back toward the TV.

“Alright, fine. No more questions. Looks like it’s about to start.”

The timer was down to 30 seconds until the third-round broadcast.

Those 30 seconds felt like 30 minutes—no, 3 hours.

Why?

‘I don’t care what happens to my body.’

I wasn’t thinking that.

I really wasn’t…

As if mocking me, the cheerful a cappella-style CYB theme began to play.

God-given spotlight! Count your blessings!

The CYB logo rolled by with its signature jingle—

Twisting, grotesque trees.

Dark red, tainted sea from the contamination zone.

Sweeping shots of Jeju Island defiled by the Otherworld’s Prince, Abrilah.

[This is Jeju Island. Once, an S-rank Gate opened here…]

A familiar voice narrated.

“Wait, why is this…?”

“Why is he…?”

Both Han Iro and I were visibly flustered.

That voice—

It was Rowen?!