LRAB Chapter 364: Star-Defier (1)
Chapter 364: Star-Defier (1)
Chapter 364: Star-Defier (1)
Some time later.
Kang-hoo arrived near the address Ma Jin-ho had said An Hui-yoon lived at.
There was still time before his booked flight to Gimpo, so dropping by briefly wouldn’t be a problem.
‘The foot traffic and car flow aren’t heavy. There’s a bypass road, so even if this area is blocked, it’s not a huge logistical issue.’
He first looked around the vicinity.
As Ma Jin-ho had said, signboards were posted everywhere.
All of them read “No Entry” and “No Filming,” with warnings written beside them.
[This area is private property. With authorization from the Jeju Public Safety Bureau, private access is restricted.
Unauthorized entry without notice will be met with active response. No exceptions exist.]
The wording was tempered, but the conclusion was clear: enter and die.
From what he’d heard, An Hui-yoon seemed like a hunter who could move without regard for space.
Hunters who freely manipulated space were usually powerful and high-level.
Spatial manipulation itself wasn’t easy and was a rare ability among hunters.
There was a reason Japan’s Hosaka Kenji was called a “named” spatial user.
Even when he had paired with Ishihara Yuji, people feared Kenji more.
Just then—
“Waaah...! This is so fun!”
A family appeared—whether they came in ignorance or in defiance was unclear.
Flowers bloomed lushly here, and the scent of grass was fresh.
The child who jumped out of the car was so excited that, in the moment the parents lost hold, he sprinted toward the fence.
“Yumin, no!”
“Not there! Yumin! Stop!”
“Yumin!”
The parents noticed the signboards too late and gave chase, but the child had already crossed the fence.
It was low, like those around flowerbeds; a small child could clear it easily.
Kang-hoo usually didn’t meddle in other people’s business, but this was an exception.
Given what he’d learned, An Hui-yoon could well harm even a child.
He was said to respond aggressively to any trespasser, regardless of age or gender.
So just as Kang-hoo moved in a hurry—
Paat!
‘Damn.’
Someone was already beside the child. It had to be An Hui-yoon.
Was he about to kill the child?
When An Hui-yoon suddenly placed his hands on the child’s shoulders, Kang-hoo reflexively gripped his dagger.
“Do you want a flower?”
An Hui-yoon asked the child.
The child looked at the flower he had just plucked and nodded repeatedly.
“Yes! I want this one!”
“Shall I give you one?”
“Yes!”
“Here, take it. Want this one too?”
“Really?”
“Mm-hm. I’ll give you them all.”
“Then I’ll take them all!”
An Hui-yoon snapped off a bunch of other flowers nearby and handed them to the child.
Then he smoothed the child’s glossy hair and turned his gaze to the parents who had finally arrived.
The parents, having read the signboards, looked half out of their wits.
“We’re sorry! We’re so sorry!”
“Yumin! Come out, now! What are you doing?”
The mother bowed at a right angle, apologizing again and again, while the father grabbed the child and hurried out.
If something were going to happen, it would have already—but contrary to Kang-hoo’s expectations, nothing did.
In fact—
“It’s fine. Kids do that. Just go back the way you came and leave.”
Speaking as if they had simply taken a wrong turn, An Hui-yoon showed no hostility.
“We’re sorry! Thank you!”
“We’ve been very rude!”
“G-goodbye...!”
The family sped away.
Contrary to fears, there was no bloodshed.
‘Is he managing his image? Or was what Ma Jin-ho told me a bit one-sided?’
A question mark rose in his mind.
When An Hui-yoon had approached the child, he had also naturally met Kang-hoo’s eyes.
Maybe, having noticed an outsider, he was doing some “image control” against his true nature.
For now, Kang-hoo decided to check An Hui-yoon’s constellation.
Even scanning the contract info alone would be enough for a first read on his strength.
[Indomitable Grand Marshal]
[Any hunter lower-level than this contractor cannot view constellation information in any form.
This ability is not the constellation’s main power; it appears only in special cases.]
‘Nothing feels worse than getting hard-countered by “view denied.”’
What gave Kang-hoo strategic superiority against hunters was constellation scanning.
With it, he could grasp the enemy’s main powers and plan ahead.
But if viewing was denied, he would have to probe while fighting.
And if the opponent was higher-level than he was, the list of “things to watch out for” got a lot longer.
“...”
His eyes met An Hui-yoon’s.
The short crop cut to the ear wasn’t a typical men’s hairstyle.
But the clothing and the voice he’d just heard sounded closer to male.
Kang-hoo, not wanting to provoke him, slid the dagger back at his waist.
He hadn’t come here to fight him.
He also suppressed the flows of Dark Energy, sacred power, and mana, avoiding any provocation.
Against a skilled fighter, even leaking faint auras was a strategic disadvantage.
Meanwhile, as Kang-hoo approached, An Hui-yoon folded his arms.
When he was close enough to see his face clearly, An Hui-yoon even began to smile.
‘Could be a disguise.’
Kang-hoo did not believe An Hui-yoon lived here for no reason.
It felt like a life of rural camouflage, with most of his power hidden.
Of course, he could use it when needed—like the time he pierced Ma Jin-ho’s forearm.
But, as with the child just now, he didn’t rampage like a madman.
A glance around showed fields of beautiful flowers and many crops planted.
He could pass for a full-time farmer—hardly a concept matching his power and level.
Just then—
An Hui-yoon curled a finger inward, gesturing for him to come.
He seemed intent on speaking as little as possible.
When Kang-hoo signaled a question—may I enter?—he nodded.
Of course,
permission to enter did not mean dropping his guard.
Kang-hoo anticipated that An Hui-yoon could attempt mind control at any time as he crossed the fence.
At that moment—
Hwaaaak...!
Kang-hoo halted, overwhelmed by the scene around him.
It wasn’t mind control.
All the defensive triggers that would react to such an attempt remained unchanged.
‘An illusion.’
It looked more like an illusory space that didn’t touch the mind directly—an elaborate mirage.
Suddenly, all the fields were burning, and even the flowers had been brutally trampled—a post-apocalyptic vision.
The sky, green moments ago, shone blood-red; the sunset ran like scarlet ink.
But when Kang-hoo took a single step back beyond the fence, everything returned to peaceful normalcy.
‘Perhaps an illusionary space.’
Illusions and illusionary spaces were different.
An illusion made a cup look like something else where a cup sat.
An illusionary space could mean there was nothing in that spot at all—because it was a space distinct from reality.
In terms of Kang-hoo’s own abilities, it was like briefly admitting someone into a subspace.
He could drag a target into a world only he knew and had built, and handle them at will.
In any case, it wasn’t mind control.
If it were, Infernus would have reacted, and a situation like Margarita’s would have been forced on An Hui-yoon—but that didn’t happen.
Still folding his arms, watching with interest, An Hui-yoon walked up to Kang-hoo.
They were close enough to strike each other like lightning if either wished.
When Kang-hoo silently met his gaze, An Hui-yoon spoke.
“Star-Defier.”
“...?”
“You’re one who means to defy the stars, aren’t you?”
The androgynous voice rang clear—fitting either gender equally well.
The phrase “one who defies the stars” carried weight.
For Kang-hoo, the “stars” weren’t celestial lights but The Thirteen Stars—Jang Si-hwan and his cohort.
An Hui-yoon continued:
“Aren’t you curious who I am?”
Honestly, he was.
But even if he showed curiosity first, it didn’t feel like An Hui-yoon would open up cleanly.
“If I say I’m curious, will you tell me?”
“If I truly think you intend to defy the stars, then maybe.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a massive yellow eye formed straight ahead.
Only a single iris filled his vision—grotesque and overwhelming in size.
A heartbeat later—
Hwaaaak!
The yellow eye engulfed Kang-hoo and dropped him somewhere else. Space transfer.
Seeing the signboard shining behind him, Kang-hoo let out a dry laugh and tilted his head.
“I just wasted the price of my ticket.”
He was at Seoul Station.
Right away, Kang-hoo returned to Ground Zero, then headed to the villa to find Celestial Assassin.
On the way, he meant to greet K, but he had left for North Korea at dawn.
Moon Hyeong-seo and Hwang Bo-hye were also away; a notice posted outside the office gave their status.
On the way to the villa—
He made eye contact first with Ju Haemi, who happened to be outside harvesting the vegetables she’d planted.
He planned to offer a light greeting and pass by, but Ju Haemi stepped in front of him.
She rarely initiated conversation or behaved assertively—today was different.
“Kang-hoo.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you have something to tell me?”
“Not really.”
He knew what she wanted to ask, but pretended otherwise. He didn’t want to brag.
When he shrugged without even a moment’s hesitation, Ju Haemi asked again.
“Truly nothing?”
“If there were, I would’ve said so.”
His answer was curt enough to sound brusque, yet Ju Haemi was already in tears.
Her blindfold did nothing to hide the twin streams running down from beneath it.
She hastily wiped them with her fingertips, but the reddening tip of her nose could not be hidden.
Right then—
Something Kang-hoo had not expected occurred: Ju Haemi suddenly bowed to him in a full prostration.
Even Kang-hoo, who always accounted for variables, hadn’t foreseen that; he stood awkwardly, unable to stop or accept it.
But he felt her heart completely.
With sincere gratitude, she paid him a respectful greeting.
“Thank you for staying by Father’s side. I, too, will never forget your grace for the rest of my life—even if it means repaying it with my life.”
At her thanks—bold enough to plant a “death flag”—Kang-hoo made an embarrassed face.
On the other hand, he felt proud: he must have done something truly great to earn such gratitude.
And he truly wished— that the bond between Celestial Assassin and Ju Haemi, father and daughter, would continue without mishap for a long, long time.
That the shadow of death would never fall on either of them.
That at least those two... would live long.
So that the meaning of the constellation privilege he had used without hesitation could grow even deeper.