Chapter 1: Creator of Sacrifice

A work messenger popup appeared on one side of the monitor.

It was a message from Team Leader Park.

With bloodshot eyes, Seong Ju-an coldly stared at the final line of text in the window.

[You can at least handle system testing, right? It’s basically your project anyway.]

In short, it meant he was supposed to shoulder the entire game story progression test all by himself.

Calling someone a team leader when they’d only joined a year ago?

Seriously?

After reading Team Leader Park’s shameless message, Seong Ju-an irritably closed the messenger.

Even so, it felt as if the man’s voice lingered in his ears.

[I put some snacks in your drawer, so recharge your sugar levels while you’re at it. You know what I mean, right?]

It was so absurd that all he could do was laugh.

The game was KA Soft’s new mobile RPG, centered around becoming a Constellation and raising incarnations.

Players became Constellations, hunted ordinary monsters, raised four incarnations, formed a party with them, and cleared dungeons in sequence to reach the ending.

Even after seeing the ending, players could continue enjoying the game through boss raids, ranking battles, and Constellation Wars (PVP).

…At least, that was how it was publicly advertised.

A year ago, Seong Ju-an had submitted the initial draft of to KA Soft’s game story contest and won, which earned him a special recruitment into the company.

But the joy of joining a major game studio was short-lived.

The KA Soft development team he had long dreamed of was nothing like he’d imagined.

The workload was beyond excessive, and the team leader was a despicable man who stole credit from his subordinates.

On top of that, office politics took precedence over everything else.

Claiming that the game originated from Seong Ju-an’s portfolio, the team leader dumped all the work on him.

Yet whenever reports were made to upper management, all the credit somehow became the team leader’s.

“Ha… I never should’ve joined this company. Just how many nights of overtime do they expect me to pull?”

Quitting before the game even launched, just because the company demanded passion pay and his superior shirked responsibility, would only hurt him.

So Seong Ju-an clenched his teeth and endured it.

At the very least, if the game was released and his name appeared in the developer credits, it might feel slightly less unfair.

With unimpressive academic credentials and no programming certifications, the only thing he had to show for himself was winning that contest.

In the end, one year after joining a major game company, Ju-an made up his mind.

Fine.

‘I’ll endure it until the graphics are finished.’

Once that’s done, the launch won’t be far off.

‘I’ll quit after it opens.’

There’s no hope for this company anymore.

****

After jolting his foggy mind awake with coffee, he clicked the game icon.

A dark background filled the screen, accompanied by ominous background music.

<Do you wish to become a Constellation and raise incarnations? Y / N>

He clicked the Y button with his mouse, and a loading window appeared.

<Becoming a Constellation.>
<Strength is leaving your body. …Loading 20%…>
<Your hands and feet are fading. …Loading 35%…>
<Your limbs are disappearing. …Loading 50%…>
<Your chest and abdomen are disappearing. …Loading 67%…>
<Your head and face are disappearing. …Loading 92%…>

Up to this point, the messages were exactly as Ju-an had written them himself.

Then, something went wrong.

Chzzk. Crackle. Pop.

The screen began to shake, and an unpleasant noise filled the air.

<System synchronization in progress. You may experience temporary dizziness, nausea, and hallucinations.>
<…Congratulations. Synchronization complete. You have become the Constellation, ‘Creator of Sacrifice’.>

“What is this? Constellation, Creator of Sacrifice? I never put anything like that in-”

Before he could fully grasp the situation, his vision blurred.

Was it just exhaustion?

He rubbed his eyes, but moments later, a splitting headache surged through his skull.

When he clutched his head and collapsed onto the desk, he felt his senses slowly slipping away.

Alarmed, Seong Ju-an snapped his eyes open and looked at his hand.

“…!”

His hand, was gone.

His arm was gone, and his legs were gradually disappearing as well.

At first, he thought he’d gone blind.

But he could see office supplies beyond where his body should have been, and realized his physical form was vanishing.

It was exactly like the loading messages from that he had written himself.

Is this a dream?

I haven’t slept properly lately, so I must’ve collapsed without realizing it.

That’s why I’m dreaming up something this ridiculous.

No matter how much of a developer I am, syncing with a game and becoming a game character? That’s insane.

Just as he decided it had to be a dream and tried to force himself awake, a strange voice reached his ears.

—Creator of Sacrifice? I’ve never seen that one before. Who are you?

The low, husky voice sounded good enough to rival a professional voice actor.

As he was admiring it, a familiar skill name pierced his ears.

—Heaven’s Resonance!

Heaven’s Resonance was a skill that summoned lightning to immobilize monsters for a certain period.

As his memory stirred at the familiar term, one character came to mind.

“…Baek Eun-hoo?”

It was Baek Eun-hoo, a character from the game.

He was an S-Rank incarnation who used lightning-based skills.

Since the graphics weren’t finished yet, even Ju-an didn’t know what he looked like.

The moment Ju-an thought of Baek Eun-hoo, a status window appeared before his eyes.

<Awakener: Baek Eun-hoo
Current Rank: S (Lightning Attribute)
Skill Ranks: Death Lightning (SS), Heaven’s Resonance (S), Pale Lightning (SS)>

“Wow…”

He was so shocked by the status window that he didn’t even notice what was strange about it.

Originally, the text before a character’s name was supposed to be ‘Incarnation,’ not ‘Awakener.’

Regardless, Baek Eun-hoo’s stats were flawless, good enough to only be seen at near max level.

Hidden skills wouldn’t even appear until the first major update, so at this stage, this was practically maxed out.

<An abnormal status has been detected for Awakener Baek Eun-hoo.
Type of abnormal status: Poisoned
Would you like to sponsor coins? Y / N>

If Baek Eun-hoo was poisoned, sponsoring was a no-brainer.

He was logged in with a developer account for testing anyway, so his coins were unlimited.

But how was he supposed to sponsor?

He couldn’t click with a mouse anymore…

“Yes!”

The moment he shouted into empty space, the Y button on the status window lit up as if clicked.

A window for entering the amount appeared.

Meanwhile, the voice continued.

—I think I’m in a bit of a hurry here?

Along with the voice, Ju-an saw Baek Eun-hoo collapsed inside a dungeon.

Silver hair glowing with an eerie sheen, broad shoulders, blue eyes flickering open and shut, a smooth jawline and a sharp nose…

Even sprawled on the ground, his physique was outstanding.

Wow.

He’s seriously handsome.

After briefly admiring a form far more impressive than he’d imagined, Ju-an snapped back to his senses.

From the opposite side of where Baek Eun-hoo lay, a red-tailed lizard monster approached with its jaws wide open.

“Poor guy.”

<The Constellation, Creator of Sacrifice, pities Baek Eun-hoo.>

—Haha, even a Constellation is taking pity on me?

Ignoring the voice, Ju-an hurriedly turned his attention back to the status window.

<9999999999…>

After confirming that his remaining coins were infinite, he spoke without hesitation.

“Sponsor 1,000 coins.”

Suddenly, the screen turned red, and a warning message appeared.

<The number of sponsored coins is excessive.
An abnormal status can be cured with just 1 coin.
Do you still wish to sponsor? Y / N>

Just in case, he tapped the Y button with his fingertip as if clicking a mouse.

<You sponsor 1,000 coins.
Baek Eun-hoo’s status has been normalized.
Remaining coins: 9999999…>

The lizard crept closer and closer to Baek Eun-hoo.

If it came any closer, he could be killed.

“I cured the status effect, so hurry up and use a skill.”

Just as the monster was about to collide with Baek Eun-hoo’s body, he sprang to his feet and cast Death Lightning.

The dungeon shook violently as a bolt of lightning pierced straight through the center of the lizard’s torso.

The monster exploded, splattering green poison throughout the dungeon.

But since Ju-an had sponsored generously, there was nothing to worry about.

After staggering briefly, Baek Eun-hoo stood upright and brushed off his shoulders.

—Did you eat something bad or what? Sponsoring this many coins… I mean, it ended quickly for me, so I won’t complain.

<The Constellation, Creator of Sacrifice, pats Baek Eun-hoo on the shoulder.>

—We got matched randomly, and I wondered who it was, turns out you’re a gem.

<The Constellation, Creator of Sacrifice, wishes him good health.>

After saving Baek Eun-hoo, Ju-an desperately tried to wake up from the dream, telling the dungeon to shut down, pressing the X mark on the screen with his fingers.

But no matter what he said or did, the screen wouldn’t disappear.

—What kind of Constellation is this awkward? You think telling it to close will end the connection?

Connection?

In the game, incarnations could be swapped by inserting or removing incarnation cards from the character tab.

But in this dream, he had no idea how to sever the connection with Baek Eun-hoo.

<The Constellation, Creator of Sacrifice, demands to terminate the connection.>
<The Constellation, Creator of Sacrifice, complains that the sponsorship is over and asks what business remains.>

Baek Eun-hoo laughed in disbelief.

—We should sign a contract. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Constellation with as many coins as you.

A contract?

There was no such system in the game.

Wasn’t the contract already over?

The thought that something was off crossed his mind, but since it was a dream anyway, he reasoned that maybe the game settings were just slightly different.

Contracting with Baek Eun-hoo didn’t sound entirely bad.

Still, something about it felt unsettling.

In the character settings, Baek Eun-hoo was, in short, a man obsessed with ambition, utterly lacking in conscience and skilled in schemes and manipulation.

That was why, after reaching max incarnation level, he inflicted debuff effects on party members during dungeon runs, making gameplay more difficult.

What if contracting with Baek Eun-hoo derailed the story?

It seemed wiser not to mess with things he didn’t fully understand.

But outright rejecting the request of someone as ill-tempered as Baek Eun-hoo didn’t feel like a good idea either.

He decided it would be better to phrase things indirectly.

<The Constellation, Creator of Sacrifice, takes Baek Eun-hoo’s hand.>

Baek Eun-hoo’s expression loosened lazily.

<The Constellation, Creator of Sacrifice, says they will think about it.>

—Playing hard to get? Then I suppose it’s fine if I contract with another Constellation?

What was that supposed to mean? That Baek Eun-hoo might not be in his party?

That couldn’t happen.

The number of S-Rank incarnations was limited.

But he couldn’t just rush into a contract either.

Faced with a choice, Ju-an sank into deep worry, as the story veered in a direction he hadn’t anticipated.