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Chapter Text

You have failed the Hidden Scenario Lie of ???!

The Incarnation [Yoo Joonghyuk] will now receive their penalty:

Scenario Penalty – Honesty

Category: Penalty

Difficulty: ???

Clear Conditions: For a set duration the Incarnation [Yoo Joonghyuk] will lose the ability to lie and be unable to act as anything but the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

Time Limit: 14 days

[A few Constellations are delighted by your failure.]

[A few Constellations are worried for your safety.]

Kim Dokja read the description of the penalty, debating in his head whether he should turn around to face the consequences of his actions.

This one... was mostly on him.

He had known very little about this hidden scenario, it wasn't mentioned much in Ways to Survive, except in one or two side characters' backstories that appeared in a hand full of runs.

This should have deterred him from trying anything, but he had also known that the scenario’s threat level, relative to the prowess of their nebula, had been almost laughably low. Alongside that, the penalty hadn't been anything fatal or permanent. With the generous reward on top, it had seemed like a steal; a non-risk worth taking.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, it had been a different kind of challenge, one Kim Dokja was tempted to accuse hadn’t been designed for anyone to win; they’d been set up—or rather the side character this quest originally belonged to. While he had no issue taking the blame, it was Yoo Joonghyuk of all characters who was the only one stuck with the penalty.

He chuckled nervously. He could almost feel the pair of eyes burning themselves into his back already. A recipe for disaster.

He reread the description of the penalty again, just to be sure, before carefully turning around, ready to run from any possibly homicidal feeling protagonist. "Well, that was a dud," he joked. He was aware that it would have been his punishment to bare, if he hadn't tricked the other into being the one to start the scenario. And he knew Yoo Joonghyuk knew he knew.

Mimicking a placating tone he teased: “There’s worse things, right?”

Secretly, Kim Dokja was curious how the other would act now. He had heard of penalties that made characters "state nothing but the truth" but never "act as nothing but the truth". This kind of penalty had never been shown or mentioned in the novel. Worst case scenario, it would end up with Yoo Joonghyuk trying to kill him for real this time. In some inspired fit of honest rage. Possibly now.

As the others also tensed up beside him, with Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung putting themselves bravely between him and his would be attacker, Kim Dokja fought back an exasperated sigh. He never fully understood their protectiveness of him.

Surprisingly, he noted, the regressor was not looking in his direction at all however. The man had gone quiet—that is, quiet-er than usual—standing rigid, barely moving, his hand hovering over where he presumably hadn’t closed the penalty window yet.

With every second that ticked by without Yoo Joonghyuk moving an inch, not even a single centimetre, Kim Dokja became more and more convinced the man was plotting his death.

[Multiple Constellations are curious about Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk’s behaviour.]

Eventually, the silence became awkward.

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, thinks Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk should just go berserk already.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, would like to remind everyone a violent altercation is not necessary.]

Not willing to bear it any longer, Kim Dokja took the initiative and stepped around the two children, patting Shin Yoosung’s head, towards the seemingly frozen protagonist.

“How about we return to the complex?”

When Yoo Joonghyuk still didn’t respond, the reader decided to wave his hand in front of him, trying to spark a reaction. Him trying to cut off Kim Dokja’s arm right now would be preferable to whatever this ominous stillness was brewing.

“Are you just going to stand there all day?” The penalty didn’t mention any restrictions on his ability to move, which meant the protagonist was standing still out of his own accord. The others relaxed a little since nothing seemed to happen.

While Kim Dokja circled the man, trying to find out just what exactly was going on with him, Han Sooyoung decided to follow the reader’s lead by poking Yoo Joonghyuk with a stick she got from who knows where. “I think his system crashed,” she snickered.

“Maybe he’s in shock?” Lee Hyunsung suggested, which drew another laugh from the author: “That’d be a new one.”

“I don’t think you should provoke him.” Yoo Sangha scolded her lightly.

“Come on, what’s a little teasing?”

Kim Dokja hummed, he did seem pretty out of it. Yoo Joonghyuk’s signature scowl was gone from his face, replaced by a more lax, absent expression, emptily blinking down at the space before him. It was a little unnerving.

Just as Kim Dokja formed that thought, the protagonist finally moved, slightly tilting his head to meet his gaze; the reader expecting to find that familiar scowl, but the eyes that met him were wide open, not in fury or shock, no, something else that could almost be described as… fear.

Or rather, uncertainty.

If Kim Dokja wasn’t already put off by the silence, then this open and vulnerable expression on his protagonist’s face immediately ripped him from his comfort zone.

[The ‘Fourth Wall’ is trembling.]

That’s not right.

[Constellation, Prisoner of the Golden Headband, is curious about the way you just reacted.]

[Constellation, Secretive Plotter, is suspicious of the Scenario Penalty.]

Whatever showed on his face made Yoo Joonghyuk look away from him, not in the way he would turn Kim Dokja a cold shoulder whenever the reader annoyed him too much, it was more like he was hiding his face. But why-?

Before he could finish that thought, the protagonist moved again. In one smooth motion he dismissed the penalty window and turned away from the group, taking a single step before he disappeared using his skill.

“Did he just run?” Han Sooyoung commented. Kim Dokja nodded, feeling about as dumbfounded as she sounded. A murmur of confusion made its way through the group.

[Multiple Constellations are confused about Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk’s actions.]

[A few Constellations are amused by this strange development.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is urging you to follow your companion.]

“Guess he really didn’t want to tell us something, huh?” A mischievous smirk made its way onto Han Sooyoung’s face. “So, who wants to go after him? I bet there’s some things we all want to know.”

Kim Dokja side eyed her, he was glad it wasn’t him who got stuck with the penalty. There’s no way he’d ever find peace with a penalty like that in that woman’s presence.

There was also nothing about that man he could ask him that he didn’t already know. He knew everything about Yoo Joonghyuk’s past, and he knew everything about what would have been the man’s future. Still, that expression didn’t fit. It was out of character, out of place. The reader must have seen it wrong, or it was a strange side effect of the penalty, he couldn’t be sure.

“Clearly, Master just doesn’t want you to ask him any weird questions.” Lee Jihye defended her mentor, pointing her finger accusingly at the author, who smiled in response, crossing her arms: “Come on, there’s got to be some things you want to know for sure.”

“Are we sure he won’t hold a grudge?” Lee Hyunsung asked.

Han Sooyoung smiled evilly at that: “Oh you have something you want to ask him?” she accused him.

“Um…, no?”

“Perhaps we should respect his choice in keeping his privacy.” Jung Heewon suggested. “If he removed himself in order to avoid giving up any personal information, then trying to get him to answer uncomfortable questions wouldn’t be right.”

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is proud of her Incarnation.]

“Boo, party pooper,” the author said to that. Then she tsk-ed, sighing, “alright, I won’t ask him anything too personal,” before adding: “but no promises about anything else,” when the Jung Heewon looked pleasantly surprised.

Kim Dokja calmly looked away from the group bickering. It wouldn’t be right? How about already knowing everything there is to know about the man and most around here? He reckoned Jung Heewon wouldn’t approve of that very much.

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is reminding you that respecting boundaries is a crucial part of healthy relationships.]

Kim Dokja sighed internally. Once again, Uriel made it sound like they were together.

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, thinks emotion talk is for losers.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is glaring at Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon.]

Han Sooyoung turned around to Kim Dokja: “Too bad you didn’t get the penalty. I know you’ve got a bunch of useful information up there that you wont share with us,” she said, tapping his head with the same stick she poked Yoo Joonghyuk with. He chuckled flatly, waving it away like an annoying fly. Unfortunately, said fly came back to keep pestering him. When he finally reached out to grab it, it tried to dodge and hit him in the face. “Oops.”

Or maybe his face had been the target all along.

Han Sooyoung snickered as he tugged the misshapen branch out of her hands, letting go only at the last moment. Of course. “Where did you even get that from, there are no trees here.”

“I found it a while back, thought it might come in handy.” She shrugged, still smirking. “Are you gonna go after him now?” the writer asked him the same way one would ask a husband whether he would comfort his upset wife.

Not you too, Sooyoung, he didn’t say out loud, because that’d just motivate her further.

Kim Dokja just had to ignore both of them.

“I won’t need to. He’ll be back at the complex. If not now, then at least by tomorrow morning.”

“Are you sure? Yoo Mia will be upset at you if we return without him.” Yoo Sangha reminded him. Which is precisely why they wouldn’t have to worry about the regressor up and leaving. And that girl would be unhappy with him regardless.

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, urges you to follow your companion.]

“If that sooty bastard gets lost on his own, it’s not hyung’s fault,” Lee Gilyoung argued, attaching himself to Kim Dokja’s coat, who awkwardly looked down at the kid, amused—that child really didn’t like that guy.

Regardless, he turned to the others. “Either way, we’re going to need to return first, we already wasted way too much time on this.”

“What’s up with that anyways?” Lee Jihye pointed out, “don’t you usually know the cheat code to every scenario? Why did we lose this one?” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you plan for this to happen?”

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is taken aback by the possibility of a betrayal.]

[Constellation, Secretive Plotter, is looking at you in contemplation.]

[Many Constellations are wondering about your intentions.]

Now this was tricky, if he told them the truth, he’d look like a fool or they’d call him a liar, and if he held his silence, they’d come up with their own conclusions.

Kim Dokja sighed internally. “We’ll go looking for him if he’s not there at sunrise,” he repeated, not wanting to justify himself. Then he turned around quickly and walked ahead for the others to follow, not letting them ask any follow up questions.

Back at the complex, Yoo Joonghyuk was nowhere to be seen.

When they arrived, just as Yoo Sangha had said, Kim Dokja was immediately met with Yoo Mia glaring at him like she already knew he had something to do with the fact that her older brother hadn’t returned yet and wasn’t with the group. But just like Kim Dokja had predicted, the next morning, there was breakfast sitting on the table for everyone, meticulously prepared, no doubt by the protagonist’s hand, meaning the man had returned. But Kim Dokja didn’t eat, not yet, because Yoo Joonghyuk himself was still absent; not in the kitchen, nor the training grounds, nor anywhere else Kim Dokja usually found him.

As a last dich effort, he went to the other’s room. He knocked, then tried to turned the handle, and felt relief when he found the door was locked, electing to wait for a response.

When, after a while, nothing seemed to move in there, he knocked again.

“Yoo Joonghyuk?” he asked.

He was met with silence again.

“Are you sulking?” Maybe ticking him off would work.

Still no answer.

He knocked on the door again: “Since when do you stay in your room past sunrise?”

It was unlike the protagonist to be asleep at this hour, so maybe it was someone else in his room, trying to prank the reader. He wouldn’t put it past Han Sooyoung, but he thought the writer had more self preservation than locking herself in the regressor’s room for a prank. Maybe there was no-one in there? But where else would he be? And why was the door locked?

He proceeded to unlock the door, knocking one last time before slowly opening it and entering. And there was Yoo Joonghyuk, sleeping in his room, at an hour early enough to still be asleep for anyone else, but not for this man. Was this another side effect of the penalty? or did he go off hunting something big while he was away?

Strangely, the lights were on, and the regressor was laying on his side, still fully dressed, wearing his coat and boots. He was also not under his blanket, but laying on top of it, as if he had come back and just collapsed onto the bed, not bothering with anything else.

As he approached him, Kim Dokja caught a glance of Yoo Joonghyuk’s face. It looked tense, like he was having a nightmare, but not a single part of his body was moving or twitching even slightly, save for his chest rising and falling with each breath, slowly, almost carefully. He looked weaker like this, tired. Was he poisoned?

Was there a creature he could have fought anywhere he could get to and back from in such a short time, that had a venom which would make the protagonist look like this? Kim Dokja didn’t think there was anything like that nearby, anything he could think of had more potent toxins, harmless, or entirely different effects.

The reader knelt down to get a better look, half expecting the bastard’s eyes to just open already and stare murder at him for breaking into his room, before his hand found it’s place on Kim Dokja’s collar to keep him from escaping once again. But nothing happened. Yoo Joonghyuk continued sleeping.

Kim Dokja let his eyes trace over the protagonist’s features, even now, the man was beautiful. He scoffed at that thought, moving to poke him in the face, trying to disturb the façade even just a little. But then, right before his finger made contact, the man’s eyes snapped open, and then there was a sharp blade where Kim Dokja’s neck had been less than a second ago. The reader himself now standing in the middle of the room, his demon king transformation out; he had dodged that blow by a hair’s length.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s pillow was cut clean into two differently sized pieces, its feathery insides pouring out like the blood out of a gutted animal.

But the weapon Yoo Joonghyuk held in his hand was not his usual sword; it was a dagger with an elegant pattern that matched a different familiar description.

So that was the dagger the protagonist had started keeping under his pillow or somewhere else by his side whenever he slept somewhere unsafe during a couple tens of his earlier regressions, Kim Dokja recognized. In those runs, the regressor had been paranoid about getting ambushed and being unable to summon his weapon in time, which had been part of a scenario penalty that ended up costing him one of his previous runs at the time. But as far as Kim Dokja was aware, the man hadn’t ever used it in this round. Until now, that is.

There were little white feathers sailing through the space between them like slow-falling snow, which the reader vaguely interpreted as a metaphorical threat to his own feathered pair of wings.

Not that Kim Dokja hadn’t been expecting to get attacked, but this one had been aimed to kill, quick, clean, and efficiently—not at all tinged in even a bit of annoyance.

The protagonist must be really pissed off.

Kim Dokja readied himself to draw his weapon if necessary, thinking about how to go about calming down a very honest killing machine, one that was very sincere in its desire to kill him. Frankly, he only had a few ideas on how to handle a scenario penalty induced murder rampage by the protagonist, who was now half-sitting with one foot out the bed and on the ground, the other still in the bedding. Kim Dokja vaguely thought the bastard should have at least taken off his boots before going to bed.

But then, “Sorry,” said Yoo Joonghyuk.

What.

Kim Dokja awkwardly smiled at the man in front of him in disbelief.

The dagger was lowered as the regressor took a proper sitting position with both legs on the ground, the fancy blade disappearing into his inventory. The man looked up at him, meeting his eyes for a moment before looking to the side, something like reluctant regret colouring his expression, as well as something else.

Kim Dokja blinked. Slowly he pointed at the protagonist, narrowing his eyes: “You’re not acting right...” Was this the effect of the penalty? The reader knew there were a lot of things Yoo Joonghyuk never said, even some things he wanted to say, choosing to hold his peace instead for one reason or another, usually because he thought it was ‘useless’. But why apologize? Kim Dokja was the one who ignored the locked door and woke up the regressor unprovoked.

“Are you alright?” from the same voice. Deep dark eyes met his once again. They held a kind of underlying exhaustion, sadness even, but mainly caution; caution towards him, Kim Dokja. Unease crept into the readers mind at the sight; such an expression did not fit the protagonist, not in this run anyways. Was that also part of the penalty?

Kim Dokja vaguely felt a small drop of warmth leaving an even line on his neck that had started to itch a little. He wiped it away, Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes following his hand.

“…Yes?” He answered, unnerved.

[Character, Yoo Joonghyuk, has activated the skill, ‘Lie Detection’.]

[‘Lie Detection’ has confirmed the statement is true.]

It was just a small scratch, Kim Dokja thought as he looked at the man before him in awkward contemplation, this all made very little sense to him.

Then, the protagonist stood up, taking a couple steps towards him and coming to a standstill in front of the reader, who refused to back down, even if he could almost feel his skin crawling from discomfort behind the ‘Fourth Wall’, because Yoo Joonghyuk was looking at him like he held all the answers. Talk about uncomfortable eye contact.

“I can never tell what you’re thinking, Kim Dokja,” he said, sounding genuinely bitter about it.

[The ‘Fourth Wall’ is trembling slightly.]

Kim Dokja, in his demon king form was slightly taller than Yoo Joonghyuk, but looking down on the man still didn’t help the fact that the reader preferred when their starring contests included more staring, and less of whatever this was. Something dubious was swimming in the protagonist’s eyes, something that moved to focus on something beside the reader—which was when he felt something sliding through the inside of his left wing, in the opposite direction to his feather’s orientation.

[The ‘Fourth Wall’ is trembling.]

He immediately pulled the affected wing back from the uncomfortable feeling, unsummoning his transformation, not before pushing the protagonist away and backing down himself.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded, shook. But the protagonist’s attention was elsewhere.

There was one feather left that had come loose, falling to the ground a little quicker than the soft white ones from the bedding. The man proceeded to catch it in his hand before it hit the ground, disappearing it into his subspace.

[The ‘Fourth Wall’ is trembling violently.]

Kim Dokja corrected himself, it was not that it made little sense, none of this made any sense at all, not a single bit of it. Even Yoo Joonghyuk looked confused about what he had just done.

Slowly, the protagonist turned back to the reader as if looking for guidance, before finding Kim Dokja was holding an arm between them, keeping his distance, and looking well and truly disturbed.

Then, that bastard really had the audacity to look like he was genuinely hurt by Kim Dokja’s reaction.

They stood there for a while, staring at each other, Kim Dokja in quiet disbelief, and Yoo Joonghyuk with that too-open look that was displaying embarrassment and regret too fully for even a normal person, let alone that emotionally repressed man who rarely ever used more than two expressions total in most peoples presence.

When neither of them spoke, the regressor once again tried closing the distance between them, reaching out for Kim Dokja’s arm, prompting the reader to quickly turn around and leave the room before the man could say anything even more disquieting.

The reader felt himself flinch as the door fell shut behind him, walking away as fast as he could without running.

[The ‘Fourth Wall’ has stabilized.]

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja was not not avoiding the protagonist, but he wanted to clarify that what he was doing was a tactical retreat. Nothing more, nothing less.

Because it didn’t make sense. It really, really didn’t.

Kim Dokja never claimed he knew everything about anything when it came to anything else. Even in this world, which he had spent the better part of his life living and breathing and experiencing and studying, there were things he didn’t know. There were characters he’s never read of, scenarios leading places that he knew the story he knew had never gone, and people from the real world, who had followed him into this dream or nightmare come true. 

More and more unexpected twists and turns had turned to make their way into his way, and he knew it would only get worse with time. There was little to be done about it—cursed be the butterfly effect.

But there was one thing that he had been certain of. One thing he knew he knew everything about. One character that he knew better than even the back of his own hand: Yoo Joonghyuk. That bastard who was a younger version of the broken and fixed and shattered and put back together version of himself that he would eventually become; a man who went on despite everything, who burned and crashed and failed, and still got up eventually every single time because he had to.

Kim Dokja knew him in and out, and still, he didn’t understand this. 

‘Act as nothing but the truth’ had never been a penalty mentioned in Ways to Survive. From the way it was worded to the way Yoo Joonghyuk had seemed confused by his own actions, it seemed like the penalty somehow influenced the way the character under the penalty acted directly. But did any penalty ever have an effect even akin to this? Had there been such a thing?

And that look in the man’s eyes…

While Kim Dokja knew Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t have acted that way under normal circumstances—considering the ‘truth’ part of the penalty description that he couldn’t ignore—what the protagonist had done, in some way shape or form, he at the very least must have had some form of intention to do. 

But why, of all things, would he take one of Kim Dokja’s feathers? And why put it in his subspace? As far as he knew, there were no specific uses for the feather of a demon king that fit anything Yoo Joonghyuk could need or want right now; no items, no hidden scenario, no character interaction that required handing one over, no nothing. 

Even of the things that might qualify, none of them were things he should know of at this point.

Then there was also this other thing. The reader hadn’t noticed before, but after the shot of adrenaline wore off, when the ‘Fourth Wall’ finally stabilized again, a strange uncomfortable phantom sensation had started to presented itself where he’d felt the regressor go trough his feathers. They were tangled now. In some weird way that he didn’t know how to straighten out.

It felt kind of terrible.

The protagonist should know not to pet any creature, feathered or not, against the grain. So the only explanation was that the bastard had done that on purpose. But why? Just to bother him? The expression he’d worn hadn’t matched that intention. Was this some sort of retribution for getting him into this situation? That didn’t match either.

Kim Dokja groaned, letting himself flop into the big couch in the centre of the room he was currently occupying. Worst of all, that bastard had been searching for him ever since he left his room—the one that Kim Dokja should never have entered in the first place—that had been a terrible idea and he was never going to do it again. Lesson learned, universe, please let the consequences stop now. Pretty please with a cherry on top. 

The reader was painfully aware of the several tens of unread messages in his midday tryst chat log he was refusing to look at. 

While he was avoiding his own room, the kitchen, and just about everywhere else he might run into the protagonist again, from the constellation’s notifications and Han Sooyoung’s short freak out over midday tryst, he gathered that, apparently, the man had started going around scaring everyone with his newly acquired lost-puppy-expression asking for him and immediately disappearing afterwards. 

There was no escape. That bastard was set on finding him.

[Many Constellations are wondering what you are doing here.]

[Many Constellations want to know why you are avoiding Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, needs to know what happened between you and Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk.]

Kim Dokja put his arm over his eyes, the only good thing about this situation was that the constellations hadn’t seen any of that interaction. All they had seen was his I-told-you-so confirmation of the protagonist’s presence seeing the prepared breakfast, some of his search and a lengthy ad break before his having stopped with no explanation. 

One of the many bad parts about this situation was that the constellations could see him right now, and some of them had a vested interest in helping Yoo Joonghyuk find him, which meant it was only a matter of time until one of them snitched on his location again. 

Not right now though, because right now the protagonist was too busy being a responsible mentor and teaching his student on the training grounds, which he wouldn’t leave for at least an hour, maybe even longer if one dared to hope. 

Personally, he wasn’t counting on it.

Before long, he did end up being found, but not by Yoo Joonghyuk. Jung Heewon had stumbled upon him; a single cup of tea in hand and Lee Hyunsung in tow, and Kim Dokja had a sneaking suspicion it still had something to do with a certain constellation.

“So why are you here then? if you’re not hiding from anything? I don’t suppose you’re planning on arranging a new hangout area?” Jung Heewon teased, sipping from the tea she brought. 

The area they were currently occupying was further down a couple storage rooms, cluttered with a bunch of aesthetic but mismatched furniture including a variety of sitting options, it was actually quite cosy—if, a bit disorganized—a perfect temporary hiding spot. 

“I’m thinking.” The only thing the reader knew about the hidden scenario penalty was that the quest it came from originally gave that side character they stole it from a skill called ‘Liar’s Insight’, which hadn’t been too much of a game breaker, but it did have a reasonable impact on the storyline it’d played a role in. It was more abstract in nature, not exactly a combat skill either, but it might have been somewhat useful for at least one of his companions considering the types of characters they ran into every now and again. 

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is encouraging a productive conversation!] 

Rereading that character’s few appearances, there was only one of them that gave Kim Dokja any more information on the matter: There was one regression in which the character didn’t have the skill, and the only other thing different in that regression was a white mask accessory hanging off of their waistband—no additional context. 

That was also the character’s last appearance in the novel, so no other data points.

“Do you think he’s still angry with you?” Lee Hyunsung asked the reader, ripping him from his thoughts again.

Huh? “About what?”

The two looked between each other before Jung Heewon clarified: “I mean, you did fail that hidden scenario on purpose, right?”

Right, that. “No, I did not fail the hidden scenario on purpose.” No point in lying now. This was weird enough already without them assuming he put Yoo Joonghyuk under that penalty on purpose, what if something else weird happened with the protagonist and they thought Kim Dokja was at fault? 

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is relieved by your answer.]

[A few Constellations are questioning your competence.]

[A few Constellations are questioning your honesty.]

Predictable.

“It’s okay, we all make mistakes sometimes, Dokja, you’ve just gotta own up to it,” Jung Heewon tapped his left shoulder in faux sympathy, with Lee Hyunsung smiling in awkward encouragement, looking a little less sure behind her. 

“You're just trying to bully me.” Kim Dokja side-eyed her, trying to subtly dodge the last tap; it was not helping the feeling floating to the side of his back. But it the judge must have noticed, giving him a look of slight confusion. 

But before she could ask-

“So you failed it on accident?” A new voice appeared behind him almost making the reader jump, the ‘Fourth Wall’ saving him from embarrassing himself at the last second. 

Han Sooyoung had somehow snuck up on all of them. He must be really out of it. 

Also, did that woman climb through the window? How did she even find him? 

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, thinks failing such an easy Scenario is pathetic.]

Ah. Same as the other two.

“Why, I didn’t know you were so fallible, Kim Dokja.” The author sounded like the cat who caught the canary, resting some of her weight on his shoulder instead of the couch, no doubt just to be annoying. He noted how she was awkwardly ignoring the not-quite-judgemental side eye she was receiving from the judge. Those two were getting more amicable, but they still didn’t seem to get along all that much. 

“Why are you here?” He pushed her off; this physical contact was not helping the feeling floating to the side of his back. Where was the ‘Fourth Wall’ when he needed it?

[The ‘Fourth Wall‘ is trembling.]

Fantastic.

“Why are you here?” Han Sooyoung parroted instead of answering. “Are you running from a certain someone?” she smirked.

“I am not running,” he narrowed his eyes at her. 

“That sounds like something someone who’s running would say.” 

“…”

“Did you ask him something embarrassing?” The author continued, taking his silence as defeat. “Also, are you gonna give me my stick back?”

“I gave it to Gilyoung.” He ignored the other question.

“What? Why?”

“It looked like a mantis claw.” Kim Dokja smiled at her. “You’re probably not getting it back.” He hadn’t expected the amount of enthusiasm from the kid, apparently it was a really accurate replica.

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, is offended on his Incarnation’s behalf.]

[Multiple Constellations are amused by this exchange.]

Leaving the the author fuming, he felt slightly better, but the irritating phantom feeling in his wing was getting worse; he needed to summon his transformation somewhere to get it out somehow. 

Something about his discomfort must have bled through, because Jung Heewon narrowed her eyes at him: “Did something happen? You actually do look bothered by something for once.” 

Always so perceptive when it came to other people’s unease. 

But he could see the gears in her head shift in a direction that was not at all applicable to their situation: “Did he do something?”

“…No.” A beat. Maybe he took a little too long to answer that one. 

“Did he confess his undying love for you?” Han Sooyoung poked at him.

“No.” Kim Dokja grimaced at the thought. No such thing would ever happen. 

“That sounded awfully defensive.”

“What do you want me to say? Nothing weird happened.” 

“So something weird happened.” 

Kim Dokja cursed his word choice, that dammed sensation was making it difficult to think. 

“Nothing happened.” Nothing that could be explained in simple terms at least. And nothing like whatever she was thinking anyways. 

[A visiting Constellation is chuckling at the banter.]

As if sensing his lie, it was then that the itch in between his feathers reached a breaking point and, without his permission, the transformation activated on its own, forcing him to shift in place so he wouldn’t lose his balance. 

It could just do that?

“Ack! What was that for!?” He’d also accidentally hit Han Sooyoung with one of them. “Oops.” he smiled, echoing her sentiment from yesterday. That one had summoned itself basically in her face. Really, he couldn’t be blamed for it. 

But how had it just activated?

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is appalled at the state of your left wing.]

[Several wing-bearing Constellations are experiencing severe itchiness just by looking at your feathers.]

“It’s not that bad.” Kim Dokja argued, now embarrassed, moving his hand to the spot Yoo Joonghyuk messed up, trying to straighten it out like one would do human hair. When that did nothing but tug on his quills again, he stopped, instead shaking the wing a couple times, trying to get them to somehow fall back in place. Unfortunately, neither of those methods magically started working this second time he tried them, the only result being a few more feathers falling out, with the offending spot staying tangled. 

[The ‘Fourth Wall’ is trembling a little less.]

He opened and closed the wing again, at least it felt a bit better now.

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is asking you if you have never seen a bird take care of its feathers before.]

What kind of question was that? “Do I look like I have a beak?” he deadpanned. 

“Kind of,” Han Sooyoung snickered, recovering from the blow, “squids do have beaks, you know,” nonetheless staying a little farther from his wings now, wondering why the hell those things packed such a mean punch. Unbeknownst to any of them, at their base form, those wings were already strong enough to carry an adult human body over considerable distances, and they too scaled with Kim Dokja’s strength stat, who was currently transformed. It was a wonder the author didn’t get even slightly injured.

Kim Dokja nonetheless gave her an unimpressed stare. He wasn’t about to pretend-eat his feathers like he’d seen those parrots do on the internet. 

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, says you need to take care of each feather individually]

“That sounds incredibly tedious.” There were a lot of feathers in his plumage, not exactly something one could do in a couple minutes. 

[Constellation, Queen of the Darkest Spring, tells you to listen to Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire.]

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, laughs at your plight.]

“So this is what’s bothering you?” Jung Heewon pointed at the spot, slightly less so, but still somewhat suspicious, now that she could see the source of his discomfort. “How did that even happen? It doesn’t look like it could have been caused by just flying around.” 

“Don’t worry about it.”

But, as if to answer her and spite Kim Dokja, it was then that Yoo Joonghyuk walked into the room, tailed by Lee Jihye. The older of the two starting to stare at Kim Dokja over the shelves across the room—not glaring, staring, with not a hint of subtlety. 

Weren’t they supposed to be busy?!!

[Constellation, Secretive Plotter, disapproves of Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk’s presence.]

The reader felt the vague urge to leave the room right there and then, but in doing so he’d be validating Han Sooyoung’s objectively terrible argument, and he couldn’t have that.

“Do you want me to help you? I think I might know what she’s talking about.” Jung Heewon offered, casting a suspicious glance at the taller of the newcomers while giving Lee Hyunsung her cup of tea, who was greeting the two with a wave. 

In response, Kim Dokja turned his wing to let her reach it from where she was sitting on his right, making sure he’d be able to see what she’d be doing, but also keeping an eye on Yoo Joonghyuk. 

Something that was not a blade between his feathers felt a bit strange since he generally didn’t use those things outside of combat and they usually didn’t come in contact with anything else for that long either. But the judge quickly managed to untangle one of the more offending ones, making the reader ease up a little. 

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, thinks her Incarnation is doing a great job.]

“Can I also help?” Han Sooyoung asked, but her voice was filled with nefarious intent. 

“No,” said Kim Dokja, shooting a dubious glance in her direction.

“Ahem, Master, didn’t you want to say something?” Lee Jihye was giving her mentor a pointed look. And Kim Dokja wondered if he was imagining whether her attitude towards the man who was teaching her had somewhat changed all of a sudden.

Her mentor looked back at her with a slight nervousness before he returned his gaze to the reader. His eyes looked so much softer than what Kim Dokja was used to. 

Lee Jihye looked about as much as a fish out of water as him, when it came to these new expressions from that man, whose emotional range was usually shock, anger or some dubious concoction one would need a spell book to decipher. Seeing her like that made Kim Dokja already feel better knowing he was not alone in his feelings. However, she did seem to already have warmed up to the idea a little, unlike him. 

Yoo Joonghyuk took his student’s reminder, glancing with some sort of emotion at Jung Heewon before pointing at Kim Dokja’s wing: “Do you… need more help with that?” he reluctantly offered, sounding every bit as guilty as he was. 

Nope. He was fine, thank you very much–not.

From the side-eye his student was throwing him, Kim Dokja guessed that that had not been exactly whatever they had discussed he’d wanted to say. 

Jung Heewon, having already managed to straighten out two of the feathers and showing Kim Dokja how to do the third one, stopped what she was doing at hearing the protagonist’s tone, looking between him and Kim Dokja, who was now left to fumble with his feathers on his own, pointedly ignoring the other man’s offering ever happened. “It was you who did this?” She asked the protagonist.

“Yes.” Yoo Joonghyuk confirmed.

“And you want to help him now?” that same suspicion keeping her voice.

“I do.”

“Why not right after?” 

“He ran…” 

Jung Heewon frowned at that, looking towards Kim Dokja for confirmation. 

“I didn’t ‘run’, I walked,” the reader felt the need to clarify, “and he was acting weird,” he deadpanned, refusing to add more details.

“Something weird did happen.”

The judge ignored the author. “Acting weird, which included twisting your feathers out of place?” Jung Heewon drilled him further, “in this spot?” pointing at the affected area, which was not exactly located anywhere that would have been affected in any normal violent altercation. 

…that was a concern he hadn’t thought about yet. 

[Constellation, Secretive Plotter, disapproves of Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk’s actions.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is getting worried about this situation.]

Taking Kim Dokja’s silence as confirmation, Jung Heewon glared at Yoo Joonghyuk, who shrunk back, which did not helping the man’s case: “What exactly happened?” 

“...”

“Is this because of the scenario penalty?” Han Sooyoung whisper-yelled towards Kim Dokja, “because I thought I was signing up for embarrassing, not creepy.” She was still too loud for Yoo Joonghyuk not to have heard her. 

The man looked elsewhere, moving slightly, visibly uncomfortable at being cornered like this for something Kim Dokja was certain the man wouldn’t usually do, and usually the reader was all for watching the protagonist squirm, but this was just unnerving. 

“I wanted to know what his wings felt like,” Yoo Joonghyuk confessed. 

What the hell man.

[The ‘Fourth Wall‘ is trembling.]

“Okay, really creepy.” Han Sooyoung commented in the same unsubtle whisper.

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, doesn’t know how to feel about this.]

[Multiple Constellations tell you to be careful.]

[A minority of Constellations who like drama are asking whether there is trouble in paradise.]

Kim Dokja looked at that last notification a bit longer, he could see what this scenario penalty was designed for, adding to his theory that that hidden scenario had been a setup. 

He spared the author a glance before returning his gaze to the regressor. 

“I wanted to apologize for taking this.” And then that idiot pulled out the feather in front of everyone—the bastard really did put it into his subspace. 

Yoo Joonghyuk lowered his head in sorry, “I don’t know what overcame me.”

Jung Heewon did not look happy about that one. No-one did actually, and Kim Dokja felt like dying inside.

The bastard did realize how that sounded, right???

Not for the first time, Kim Dokja cursed the protagonist’s straightforwardness, couldn’t he wait until they were alone at least?? Had he no patience? 

[No t wh en K im Do kj a k ee ps r unn in g fr om hi m.]

Shut it.

[Multiple Constellations are incredibly weirded out by Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk’s actions.]

[A minority of Constellations who like drama are laughing hysterically at the situation.]

Before anyone could make any more judgements on the protagonist’s character, Kim Dokja walked up to the man, “give me that,” and snatched the feather from his hand. He didn’t miss how the other tensed at the quick motion, slowing down a little. 

The feather was an old one, black like the rest of the demon king’s plumage, but duller, its texture having lost its sheen already. It was torn by wind, with a few rows of barbs missing and several gaps between them. The quill was falling apart from frailness—likely the reason it fell out so easily in the first place. 

It was ugly, Kim Dokja thought. Not something Yoo Joonghyuk should be carrying around.

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, thinks you should settle this with a duel.]

[Constellation, Prisoner of the Golden Headband says he wouldn’t mind seeing that.]

The others were looking at him, them both. Lee Hyunsung was nervously glancing between them, while Jung Heewon clearly wanted him to just take the feather and keep it. Meanwhile, Lee Jihye looked sorry for her mentor, but was not making any move to help him. And Han Sooyoung was wisely keeping her mouth shut, silently observing how he would react. 

He locked eyes with the man, who met his gaze, but failed to keep himself from shrinking under the readers scrutiny, uncertainty bleeding into every part of his posture. That penalty really wasn’t doing him any good. 

[Many Constellations are wondering what you will do.]

It’s not like he was all that opposed to Yoo Joonghyuk keeping something of his, not when Kim Dokja carried the regressor’s entire existence with him everywhere he went, but this thing wouldn’t do, and this whole situation was just off. 

It was that damned penalty’s fault. Maybe he should have been the one to take it—this kind of behavioral shift seemed like something the ‘Fourth Wall’ would have protected him from, leaving him with only the inability to lie. 

But he still needed to fix this now. Maybe by giving back the feather? It’d stop being weird if he was okay with it right? Or maybe he should just leave, maybe he should have just let Han Sooyoung take the win and ran the moment he caught sight of that bastard. 

He sighed, irritated; it was too late for that anyways. But he wasn’t giving him back this feather.

Without a better idea, he went to his other wing and plucked out the most presentable feather he could find in a short time, considering everyone’s eyes on him, and put it in Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair, who flinched again lightly as the reader stuck it behind the protagonist’s ear. 

This one was shiny with an almost silky look to it – fair and pristine, and just the right size for an accessory. 

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at him star struck. The shock and surprise on the man’s face no doubt mirrored by everyone else in the room. Not needing his skill to tell what exactly the protagonist was feeling sure was something else; it was almost like reading certain parts of the novel again, but with far more vivid images to complement it. 

“You know, you bastard could have just asked, right?” Kim Dokja told him with a deadpan. 

[Many Constellations are surprised at your choice.] 

[Several Constellations are questioning your judgement.] 

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is extremely relieved by this outcome.] 

[Several Constellations are wondering if you know about avian customs.] 

No, he did not. He vaguely remembered that there had been something about that in a certain passage in the novel, making a note to himself to check it later.

Kim Dokja smiled at the protagonist lightly teasing: “I accept your apology,” expecting Yoo Joonghyuk to look away without retort, but the other mirrored his expression, relieved. 

His smile turned sharper. Yeah, no way he was getting used to this.

[A minority of Constellations who like drama are bored by this rushed reconciliation.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, says she will fight anyone who is against this union.]

Uriel, he suppressed a sigh, the archangel would definitely take this the wrong way. 

[The ‘Fourth Wall‘ has stabilized.]

About time.

“Are you sure about this?” Turning back to the group, Jung Heewon looked at them both dubiously, mainly at Kim Dokja, who looked to the side, slyly avoiding her gaze. “It’s just a couple roughed up feathers,” he reasoned. 

[Constellation, Secretive Plotter, disapproves of your choices.]

[Constellation, Prisoner of the Golden Headband, thinks you’re not being slick.]

“If you say so.” The judge didn’t look convinced either. Neither did Han Sooyoung, who was looking several pages of unimpressed with him. The only one who seemed relieved by this outcome was Lee Jihye, with Lee Hyunsung simply looking between them awkwardly.

“I think the way he’s acting is an effect of the scenario penalty,” Kim Dokja explained to them. 

“That ‘act as nothing but the truth’ portion of it, right?” Han Sooyoung asked, side-eyeing the protagonist. “So you’re just gonna let this slide?”

The reader squinted his eyes at her: “Yes.” 

“I mean, did you really expect that ahjussi to cut off Master over this?” Lee Jihye pointed out, and a look was shared between the three other adults in the room. Internally, Kim Dokja decided they were all traitors.

At least the mood was lifted.

“How did it even get this bad if all he did was take one feather?” Jung Heewon asked, not fully content yet.

“I didn’t set out to take the feather,” Yoo Joonghyuk looked at her earnestly, “I just,” he moved his hand in an upward-diagonal movement across Kim Dokja’s wing, hovering a few inches above it this time, as not to mess it up again. 

When the man didn’t take his hand away afterwards however, Kim Dokja side-eyed him with a warning, slowly moving his wing away. 

“That’s the wrong direction,” Jung Heewon frowned at Yoo Joonghyuk’s answer, “you’re not supposed to pet feathered wings like that, you need to go with the orientation of the feathers, not against them, that just causes discomfort.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to pet wings at all, actually. Yoosung told me it’s a romantic gesture for birds, they’ll perceive you as a potential mate.” Lee Jihye said. 

Both Kim Dokja and the regressor narrowed their eyes at the man’s student, who was now looking at them with a wide grin of faux innocence. 

First it was a squid, now bird, what’s next? A weasel?

“He’s not a bird,” the other man felt the need to point out. 

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, confirms it’s usually different for humanoids with wings, especially for those whose base is an actual human.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, wants to inform you that letting those close to you help you preen your wings is an important bonding activity.]

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, scoffs at Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire’s unsubtle attempts at matchmaking.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is adamant that preening is a platonic gesture.]

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, asks Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire to point him to where exactly he denied that it was.]

Kim Dokja unsummoned his wings. Jung Heewon had already undone the worst of it, and he could fix them alone later now that he knew how. 

What he needed to do was figure out a way to prevent an incident like this happening again while Yoo Joonghyuk was under that penalty. And since he hadn’t been able to find a solution by rereading the novel, he had to search for something new. 

He sighed, unfamiliar things once again, he should’ve just left that hidden scenario alone. Tempting reward be dammed.

If all else failed, he’d have to convince Yoo Mia to blackmail her brother into letting himself get locked up somewhere for the time being, without giving the protagonist a reason to hunt him afterwards. 

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, recommends you take care of all your feathers.] 

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, says to let your companions help you.] 

“I’ll remember that for later,” Kim Dokja told her, not really planning on following her advice, turning to the exit. Aileen Makerfield might know something that could help, additionally, consulting with Lee Seolhwa might prove useful. The constellations would be listening in too, if they decided to be useful and provide suggestions, it would make all of this a whole lot easier for him. 

To the others he said, while leaving: “I’m sure all of you have something you were busy with. You don’t need to worry about any of this, I’ll deal with it.” Han Sooyoung in particular he didn’t want around while he was searching. 

“Joonghyuk, let’s-” The reader noted the protagonist was already following him without having been asked to. He sighed again “…nevermind.”

This was going to be a long 2 weeks. 

Chapter Text

“You know, you’re blocking the doorway,” Han Sooyoung’s annoyed voice sounded from behind.

Barely ten steps away from the door, Kim Dokja realized Yoo Joonghyuk had stopped halfway through the frame.

“Are you coming or not?” It wasn’t like the reader felt he couldn’t find a solution on his own, but he wanted to keep an eye on the regressor while he was in this state, just to be sure. 

Yoo Joonghyuk snapped seemingly out of a light daze, hesitating briefly before turning back around to give his student some training instructions in an odd tone of voice, before fully following the reader. He sounded a tad too worried for the stern teacher he usually acted as, the reader thought, watching the protagonist’s expressions attentively. 

“You know something to fix this?” the man asked, falling into step beside him, mixing hope and suspicion almost subtly, but Kim Dokja had already been attuned to Yoo Joonghyuk’s micro expressions before; with the penalty in place nothing was escaping him. 

[Several Constellations wonder what you will try to do against a Penalty.]

The reader smiled awkwardly, still a little put off by the nigh explicit emotions of the protagonist. “What? You don’t trust me?” he jabbed, starting to fall back into their usual banter. 

Yoo Joonghyuk paused for a beat. “…I don’t trust you not to do something foolish.” 

Had there been something else? 

“You can’t deny my ‘foolishness’ has payed off so far.” Most of it anyways. He won’t lie and say he’s never come close to failure before, things were getting more unpredictable the more time went along.

Yoo Joonghyuk narrowed his eyes. “And how exactly will this pay off?” It was obvious he was referring to the penalty.

Kim Dokja cringed at that, he’d have to explain himself to the protagonist as well. “Listen, this… fluke wasn’t part of any of my actual plans. It was a spur in the moment decision—and look, all of us are unharmed; I knew the difficulty wasn’t high, the reward was decent. The only reason I brought most of the others was because of the requirements for activation.” Please don’t kill me.

“Which is why you had me take up the penalty.” 

“To be fair, I didn’t plan on failing this one,” the reader tried to defend himself. 

“But you did.” The distrust that seeped into the man’s voice was unmistakable. “And now I can’t control my face.” Slight anger. It was obvious the man was bothered by much more than that, thanks again to the penalty, but he seemed capable of refusing to say it. 

[A few Constellations who like drama are amused by Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk’s plight.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, tells the Constellations who are amused by Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk’s ‘plight’ to keep it to themselves.]

The reader ignored the notifications.

Nonetheless, Kim Dokja had a hunch on what it was that was bothering the man; after all this version of Yoo Joonghyuk already had had one very significant negative experience with feeling his body commit to actions he didn’t command it to before. It’d been an early turning point in the way the protagonist perceived control, from other characters, scenario setups, or otherwise, which pervaded throughout his regressions. It was even mentioned in the later chapters far further down the line, even though by then, he’d had plenty of other reasons to distrust that kind of stuff.

But Kim Dokja didn’t speak to that concern: “So what? I can get distracted by something shiny for once,” he steered the conversation away from its serious tone, slowing down a bit. 

The other did not look convinced, but let him be, overtaking the reader to walk in front, it seemed like he already figured they were going to the med-bay. Silence it was then. 

From the back, Kim Dokja couldn’t see the other man’s face anymore, just the coat and hair like always; like that penalty wasn’t in effect even now. Maybe a mask like the one that character had would do the trick. The only difference in his appearance, really, was the feather poking out of Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair like a particularly straight cowlick. 

The reader had really expected the other to have taken the feather out of his hair by now. He’d put it there to be annoying, since the man never seemed to get as much as a dust particle on it, but Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t made a singe move to remove it from where it sat. It stood out awkwardly, kind of ruining the elegant silhouette in Kim Dokja’s opinion, but the more he looked at it, the more it did somehow look charming in a way, with the shiny black of the feather matching the protagonist’s ever pristine hair. 

Of course it was somehow charming, that bastard could pull off any look. Not that he ever tried.

[Constellation, Queen of the Darkest Spring, tells you not to stare too hard.]

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, says your yearning is pathetic.] 

Blinking, Kim Dokja moved his eyes onto the notifications. Without the ‘Fourth Wall‘ he’d have a headache by now. 

[Constellation, Demon King of Salvation, tells Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, to worry about his own Incarnation.]

Who knew whatever she had going on with Yoo Sangha.

[Several Constellations are amused by this exchange.]

Yoo Joonghyuk turned to him with a questioning expression. 

“I was just looking at the feather.”

“Why?” came the characteristically short inquiry.

Not knowing how to answer that, he countered: “Why didn’t you take it out yet?”

“Do you want me to?”

Kim Dokja felt an awkward smile-like grimace make its way onto his face and suppressed it. He turned away. “Don’t ask stupid questions, I already gave you that thing, you can do whatever you want with it.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Yoo Joonghyuk shoot him a doubting look before retuning to course.

As they continued walking in silence, the reader got back to thinking.

A mask might indeed be the only solution he had for now, that he knew would somewhat help; it would hide the man’s facial expressions, since he seemed so caught up on that—not much else, but enough for a temporary solution. It was only two weeks after all. 

That wasn’t exactly a small timeframe either though, definitely enough time for someone to get so fed up with a penalty that they decide to resort to hunting down whoever was responsible, which would be him, and he’d rather not deal with that. 

But what would an actual solution even look like? It’s not like he could actually remove the effects of a star stream penalty. He thought back to the white mask that that character had worn: Usually, an author would only point out details if they were relevant in at least some sense, and it’s not like it ended up having any relevance in the story, but it had been described in quite a bit of detail. 

A ghostly face carved out of a porcelain-like material with blackened out eyes stood out from the items hanging from the man’s waistband—that guy hadn’t worn that before. Seemingly random lines, baring a slight resemblance to circuitry were visible at an angle, the smooth surface blending the edges together when looked at directly.

After inspecting the mask from a distance, Yoo Joonghyuk had figured out that that character didn’t have ‘Liar’s Insight’ in that round, and, instead of trying to figure out what had happened differently, pointedly ignored the character and focused on clearing the then relevant scenario on his own. Kim Dokja would curse him, but this time the protagonist truly had had no way of knowing that that would be the last time that character appeared. It had left him and the reader confused for a while, and incited a flare up of Yoo Joonghyuk’s Regression Depression, but, as usual, the protagonist adapted, figuring that there must’ve been some ripple effect from his then change in starting route. 

Quite frankly, Kim Dokja had almost forgotten about it too by now, only recounting it because of his reread. 

Considering that that character didn’t have the skill in that round, either he never encountered the hidden scenario, or he did, but failed, which meant the character might’ve suffered the same penalty. The mask was likely an item considering its description, so perhaps whatever effect it had could’ve help with the penalty? which is why they weren’t using it when they made their appearance. 

Kim Dokja paused, vaguely feeling like a conspiracy theorist grasping at straws. With his luck, the mask was likely a random unrelated item that that character got through chance, but that was how a story worked, as a reader he would know, and knowing what it was still might help him anyways. If not, it was still a mask. 

It was then that Yoo Joonghyuk abruptly came to a stand still, the reader almost slamming into him. 

“Why’d you stop? We’re almost there.” Kim Dokja walked around the other to look at the man’s face, their eyes met, reluctance and a mild fear colouring the regressor’s expression. 

Right, Lee Seolhwa was likely in the med-bay, or somewhere around the area, and Yoo Joonghyuk was currently… like this. He was probably afraid he’d let something of his previous regression slip, even if the reader thought that such a thing might turn out for the better.

“You can wait outside if you want,” the reader offered. 

They shared a look, Yoo Joonghyuk‘s temporary lapse of confidence or confusion?—that was the emotion on his face—turning into agitation.

“No.” The man said, “I… I’m–not- I-” A frustrated noise. 

Well, that had never happened before; not this early into his runs—the stuttering that is. It seemed like the man was fighting himself to form words, but something—the reader would guess the penalty—seemed to prevent him. 

“Don’t force yourself,” he told him, putting his arm on the other’s shoulder for reassurance, expecting to get shrugged off again in a couple seconds. 

[You can’t lie right now, you know that.]

He could consult with Aileen Makerfield on his own, as well as Lee Seolhwa, and as long as the protagonist stayed somewhere close by, any solution he’d find he could immediately share with the man anyways. Any disaster, like him trying to kill someone—although he didn’t know who, other than Kim Dokja—would also be close enough for him to deal with.

Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to try to glare at him again for his audacity, but the expression on the regressor’s face morphed more into something conflicted. 

Kim Dokja grinned at the other knowingly in response. They stood there for a while. 

Why hasn’t he pushed me away yet?

Slowly, the reader pulled away himself this time, turning towards the entrance of the med-bay to make it seem like he was just going ahead, which is what he was doing. But before he could fully remove himself, he felt a tug on his sleeve. 

“Is something the matter?”

Wordlessly, the other let go where he'd just grabbed him, looking oddly at the point they’d made contact without saying a word. Truly strange. 

“Aileen, are you there?” Kim Dokja raised his voice as he entered the room. 

“Did something happen again or do you need something?” came back a reply. The watchmaker looked up from where she was working, eyes flickering between the two newcomers as if she was seeing the most peculiar thing. Lee Seolhwa was also there, seeming mildly worried about something else, but turning to them in curiosity as to why they were here.

They looked like they’d just been chatting before getting interrupted. 

“We’re looking for something to offset the penalty effect from yesterday’s hidden scenario.”

“The truth penalty? As far as I know, that’s not something you can just circumvent, most people just wait it out.” She regarded him with a slight caution, “or do you know a way?” 

“It’s different from a normal truth penalty, see, his behaviour has been a little… off since it was placed on him.” The reader turned to side eye Yoo Joonghyuk to gouge whether the man wanted to explain it himself, and to direct the woman’s attention to the protagonist.

He was met with a pair of eyes looking at him attentively.

Almost elegantly, Yoo Joonghyuk ignored the awkwardness it made the reader feel, moving his eyes towards the watchmaker. “I cannot control my facial expressions, and I keep going through with actions I’ve no intention of committing to,” he explained to her, almost uncomfortably far from a straight face, there was a certain desperation in the tone of his voice that was not betrayed by his words. 

‘Keep’ the reader noted; then there must’ve been more than just the feather already. Did that have something to do with him sleeping late this morning? Was that gonna be something he’d have to worry about?

Aileen’s eyes almost comically widened at the sight of the protagonist emoting like that, before turning back to Kim Dokja all professional again. “Well, short of restraining him physically, I’ve also got no idea what to do. I’ve never heard of a penalty like this before.” She paused. “You might be able to wait it out alone in a scenario that runs on pocket time-”

“No,” Yoo Joonghyuk refused point blank.

Kim Dokja smiled awkwardly at the protagonist’s hasty response. “That would be the easy way out, but smaller scale scenarios that run that exact amount of time are hard to come by, and we’re not trying to get rid of him for an inconvenient amount of time,” he argued in the other’s favour. 

It was then that Lee Seolhwa joined the conversation. “I might’ve recently stumbled upon something that could serve as a solution,” From her inventory the white haired woman pulled out an item that, by first glance could be mistaken for an oddly shaped porcelain bowl, presenting it like one would a medical report. 

When did she- How?

“It’s an item that will freeze your body for three seconds if it detects you are about to do something you don’t want to do.” 

It was a mask, that mask: carvings made of straight lines; no obvious pattern or motive and only shining through around the angled side planes, with a black, kind of sparkly, but definitely not see-through looking material filling the eyes. 

“Where did you get that?” Kim Dokja stared at the item like it’d jumped him before. 

[The ‘Fourth Wall‘ offsets some of your shock!]

[A few Constellations recognize ‘???’s Mask of Temperance’.]

[A few Constellations wonder why you are so surprised at ‘???’s Mask of Temperance’s’ appearance.]

If it was an item she’d gotten on her own, then it should’ve appeared amongst her possessions at least once in the novel. It hadn’t. 

“It’s apparently a relatively rare item from a different server, but it’s easy to obtain through trade since its function has little to no use to most people. Some time ago I happened to meet a former therapist who was using it to help one of his friends,” she added.  

It made sense that the doctor would procure such an item if she had heard about it being useful for helping a patient, even if she wasn’t a mind doctor, but that did not explain why she had it now when she never did before—or, at least, if she did, it’d never come up before—in not a single run, which as far as he knew was nigh impossible considering the not too frequent, but definitely considerable amount of times such an item would have been useful to Yoo Joonghyuk. 

Kim Dokja smiled wryly as Lee Seolhwa offered the mask to the regressor, who took it without question. This was way too convenient to not be suspicious. Outside interference? No, something he did must’ve triggered this, the mask was in the novel after all, and the ‘???’ in the item’s name matched the same censorship from the hidden scenario, even if many other things were censored that same way. 

“Do you want to try it?” the reader asked the protagonist, feeling like maybe he shouldn’t.

But the man already looked sold on the idea, only taking enough time for what Kim Dokja could only assume was him reading the item description, before putting the mask over his face where it stayed, even though there was no attachment mechanism on that thing; just hovering, apparently. 

The protagonist’s demeanour seemed to visibly relax as soon as his emotions were hidden again. Maybe it was like feeling the ‘Fourth Wall’ stabilizing again for the reader.

For some reason, Kim Dokja felt a little disappointed though; all of the protagonist’s features were hidden now, not even the man’s eyes showed through, covered by that glistening black material, now even more unreadable than before the penalty. 

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, thinks Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk looks like a serial killer.]

[Constellation, Prisoner of the Golden Headband, snickers at Constellation, Abyssale Black Flame Dragon’s remark.]

That guy always looked like he was out for the kill, Kim Dokja thought in response. 

“Alright, well that’s that.” The reader inspected the mask on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, it looked almost doll-like, and with that he meant the creepy ones from horror movies, although not quite, maybe that edgy, childish constellation was right about this one. Perhaps he should keep monitoring the regressor to see if that item really was working as advertised. 

He turned to Lee Seolhwa. “Thank you for your help.” 

“If that was all, maybe you can help me too then; do you know where Yoo Sangha and the kids are?” The question was aimed at the both of them. 

“Did something happen to Mia?” the protagonist immediately questioned.

[Several Constellations who like children express their worry.]

Despite looking caught off guard by the almost panic in his voice, Lee Seolhwa quickly assured him: “None of them are hurt, but Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung were supposed to come in for a heath check-up today, and Yoo Sangha wanted to talk to me about something. I assumed Yoo Mia was with them.”

It seemed that mask was not preventing him from sounding emotional.

[Several Constellations who like children are relieved to hear that.]

“Oh, right,” the reader remembered just then, “Sooyoung told me Sangha and the kids went out to some nearby playground, together with your sister.” It had been included in her little freak out. He’d almost missed it because he was ignoring Yoo Joonghyuk spamming his inbox.

“I’ll go find them.” the man turned to leave. 

Somewhat concerned, Kim Dokja told the doctor apologetically: “I’ll go look for them too then,” hurrying after the protagonist to prevent the man from taking any rash actions. He knew how much the man cared about his sister’s safety, and he didn’t trust that mask's effect to work properly quite yet. 

What’d likely happened is that Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung wanted to go outside, Yoo Sangha followed them for safety reasons, even if they were strong enough to face most other incarnations on their own, and Yoo Mia tagged along, not wanting to miss out on any fun. Han Sooyoung had probably also left them with one of her clones if she knew about it. 

But if Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know about his sister leaving the complex that would indeed have been quite the misstep.

At least he had a proper excuse to continue monitoring the effects of the mask now.

Chapter Text

“Wait up you bastard!”

[Several Constellations are enjoying the chase scene.]

With Yoo Joonghyuk practically trying to break the sound barrier on foot, dashing over the city’s rooftops like a mad man, Kim Dokja had to use his ‘Demon King Transformation’ and ‘Way of the Wind’ to keep up, which was one of the reasons they found the missing group almost immediately.

The other reason was that the group was located in an empty playground very close to home, which only made sense, since, as expected, Yoo Sangha of all people wouldn’t lead the kids somewhere far away where they might risk running into actual danger without any backup close by. They were easy to spot playing in the clear light of midday, only slightly blocked by a larger tree that seemed a little big for city regulations.

Seeing the children seemed like they were really just peacefully playing there, and not wanting that idiot to storm in like a furious, overprotective mother hen and cause a panic, Kim Dokja decided then and there to simply crash into the protagonist at full speed, before he could get down from the building he was currently on, to pinn him into place.

Since yelling words at that stubborn sunfish bastard seemed so ineffective.

Caught off guard, Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed onto the reader’s upper arm and coat as the air was knocked out of him from the impact—maybe Kim Dokja should’ve deactivated ‘Way of the Wind’ first.

“What-” the man coughed, winded, but uninjured, because neither of them would get hurt so easily.

“Alright, yeah, that wasn’t the most elegant solution out there,” Kim Dokja wasn’t unscathed from the collision either, a little breathy in his delivery, “but you need to relax, look, they’re safe. And having fun, if you go down there all stressed out, you’re going to ruin their little moment.”

They couldn’t see the group on the ground from where they were lying practically the middle of the roof anymore, but they’d both caught a glimpse of nothing but calm, and Yoo Joonghyuk knew the reader had likely seen more than him due to his airborne advantage.

Seeing the other’s hurry seep from his body, Kim Dokja braced for a violent outburst; getting tackled out of nowhere tends to get you a response of the same frequency, especially with this character. But the man just stayed tensed, like a spring lock.

“I should still-” Yoo Joonghyuk stubbornly angled his head towards the ledge in the direction of the playground propping one of his legs up.

“You can interrupt them later, let them play for now.” Kim Dokja kept his grip firmly on the other’s shoulder and collar bone, the added weight of his wings giving him more leverage than usual.

The man under him breathed in like he was about to say something, looking back at him before halting for a moment, the grip on Kim Dokja’s arm tightening, then suddenly freezing. Was this…? It was a weird and unnatural kind of stiffness, not generated by merely a stopping of movement—was this the mask’s effect taking place?

Before he could start counting it was already over, but Kim Dokja was pretty sure the timeframe fit 3 seconds.

He’d activated the item’s effect? What for? How exactly did it work then? It didn’t seem to have had any visual indication for the effect activating.

“Kim Dokja,” came a familiar warning, but it sounded somewhat choked, “unhand me.”

Maybe he should have pulled away by now, instead of scrutinizing the white face covering the other was wearing, trying to get a better read on it. 

But for some reason the regressor wasn’t doing anything to escape his grasp even though he so easily could, only pushing lightly against him.

Feeling a little bold, Kim Dokja asked, “why?” his focus shifting back from the mask to the man.

Why aren’t pushing me away this time either? “Are you going to promise not to crack down on the kids’ playtime?”

“… just let go,” through gritted teeth.

“That’s a little hard to do when you’re also holding me in place,” he made a point to look at the Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand. The protagonist’s iron grip wasn’t exactly easy to get out of.

As if only then realizing what he was doing, the man let go, but the reader could swear there was some hesitation in that movement. Kim Dokja tilted his head, mystified, feeling a grin creep onto his face, could it be Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t really want to shove him away?

[A few Constellations are wondering about the fan service.]

[Constellation, Secretive Plotter, disapproves of your methods.]

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, says to shush.]

“Alright.” Unimpressed by the notifications, Kim Dokja let go of the man, standing up, holding his hands half-way up to show them empty while side-eyeing the sky.

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, says now you ruined it!]

[A few Constellations are amused by your reaction.]

From the corner of his eye he could see Yoo Joonghyuk got up as well, without Kim Dokja’s help because the reader hadn’t offered, freezing again with that uncanny stillness half-way through the motion, and almost loosing his balance because of it, before catching himself, and then freezing up again?

That effect seemed to activate a little frequently. Was there a cooldown on that thing?

[Constellation, Prisoner of the Golden Headband, is wondering if ‘???’s Mask of Temperance’ will inhibit Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk’s ability to fight.]

The reader frowned, that might be a possibility if this was indeed how the effect worked. He sighed, slightly irritated, another inconvenience for him to deal with.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off Yoo Joonghyuk yet, who seemed to move somewhat awkward, stiff, and away from him.

“Now don’t–” Alarmed at the regressor’s movement towards the playground, Kim Dokja moved after him to grab at his sleeve, only to be met with his own wrist getting trapped. For a moment it seemed like Yoo Joonghyuk was considering something behind that empty, white visage, before the item’s effect activated and froze him again.

And he hadn’t noticed before, but this definitely felt different than just an iron grip; it was static, stiff, and immovable. The other’s skin barely even felt organic.

Unnerved, Kim Dokja didn’t immediately try to escape when the 3 seconds were up, Yoo Joonghyuk halting for a while as well before slowly letting him go and turning towards his original goal.

“…” he sighed in frustration.

Taking back his wrist, the reader tensed, wings slightly unfolding ready to halt the regressor again, but it seemed that Yoo Joonghyuk had taken his advice; instead of continuing on his path, he stood still upon reaching the ledge, from where he could look over the scene below.

Kim Dokja noted Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t quite turning his back on him though—fair enough.

The reader went to sit a little farther down the ledge, one leg dangling over the edge in a semi-criss-cross seating position, the other following his lead after a couple moments lowering himself, but keeping both legs on the solid concrete, while looking at him in what the reader could only guess was some sort of contemplation or caution, freezing up once more before turning his head downwards. He was harder to read with the mask on, but his posture bled a slight but clear tension.

They sat there for a while looking at the scene below. The playground the kids were occupying looked a little overgrown, Lee Gilyoung seemed to be holding the stick Kim Dokja had taken from Han Sooyoung, and there was also a stray dog, and two differently coloured birds. If they got a little closer, Kim Dokja reckoned he would be able to see some insects as well.

He allowed himself to relax a little. With the goal of their comically short expedition technically completed, they could simply stay here for a while and watch over the group. Lee Seolhwa could wait, Kim Dokja did not want to disturb the children’s temporary fun with his presence or the protagonist’s worry just yet. Kids their age needed time like this, especially when growing up in the apocalypse.

[Several Constellations, are enjoying the romantic display.]

He rolled his eyes. There was very little romantic about any of this, just tense awkwardness, but he supposed it was a nice day, and this part of the city seemed a little greener than the rest, maybe that was what they were referring to. All the rotting foliage and unsightly concrete ruins in the scenarios must have made people a little less keen to remove new vegetation from the buildings. The playground was also otherwise empty, there was likely not many people left from this area to do maintenance for anyways.

“You don’t want to join them?” Yoo Joonghyuk decided to break the stillness.

Kim Dokja blinked, leaning back a little as if thinking about it before answering, “if I went down there, Gilyoung and Yoosung would just focus all their attention on me and stop playing with Yoo Mia to show me what they’re doing.”

“I see.”

[Several Constellations who like children praise you for your attentiveness.]

Kim Dokja huffed at that. It’s not like he didn’t appreciate their love and admiration for him, it was useful, and kind of nice? but he wasn’t used to that kind of attention, and he didn’t want to take something nice from them by intruding with his presence.

“Sangha is probably going to shoo them back into the complex see the first light of sunset anyways, so no need to interfere.”

“You have a lot of faith in her,” the man said in an odd tone of voice.

“You think it’s misplaced?” the reader asked back, tilting his head. “She may be willing to go far for her goals, but she is a good ally and friend.” Responsible, intelligent, and adaptable enough not to fall behind others in this world of chaos despite being from the real one. Her not being a character gave him a disadvantage when it came to predicting her as a variable, but so far she didn’t seem the kind that would turn out a liability. In fact, she’d helped his mission a great bit already.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t seem to react much to the answer, the mask equally letting nothing show. 

Had that not been his concern then?

“She is from where you are from.” he said after a moment with a contemplating tone.

The real world? Kim Dokja almost concluded, blinking, caught off guard before glancing away and answering: “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, we were colleges working at the same company, you know? friendly strangers.”

Yoo Joonghyuk turned to him in a way that meant the reader must have misunderstood his meaning, but it was then that that item effect activated again. 

Getting stared at by the solid black eyes of that mask in that manner for 3 whole seconds must’ve been the most awkward Kim Dokja had felt in a while.

However, now that he had a better angle to observe it from, he noted it seemed like a fairly simple full-body freeze. It was definitely noticeable for anyone with a brain, and easily identifiable as a good attack window. If they wanted to fight any kind of intelligent enemy in these two weeks, either they’d have to leave out their ace, or Yoo Joonghyuk would have to temporarily unequip the item for the duration of the fight, which might lead to other issues.

Now, but why exactly did he keep freezing up here? There didn’t seem any issue while they raced to get here, though perhaps that was because Yoo Joonghyuk’s mind was focussed on finding his sister? If that was so, then maybe a fight wouldn’t be that big of an issue.

But it would only take one misstep; 3 seconds was more than enough to take someone’s life. And he wasn’t foolish enough to risk that sunfish dying over something so trivial. 

Now that he thought about it, Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t tried this many strange things while not under the influence of the mask, at least not that he noticed, the freezing seemed a little frequent. Did that item also suppress minor impulses or something?

“Is there something you wanna tell me?” the reader teased at the man who had deliberately turned further away from him as if that would keep him from freezing again.

“Maybe…” Yoo Joonghyuk answered him, trailing off without adding anything else, like he himself wasn’t sure of it.

[Several Constellations are interested in what Incarnation, Yoo Joonghyuk, is hiding.]

A short non-statement; not telling lies Kim Dokja concluded, but not telling the truth either. Whoever made this penalty either overlooked a loophole, or had it put there for extra drama, likely the latter—this world only cared about one thing.

“Are you going to tell me?” he kept digging anyways. Usually, he would be shut down by now.

“I don’t know.”

The reader giggled at the obvious attempt at to circumvent the penalty.

[You know, you can tell me over Midday Tryst if you want to avoid the constellations.]

“You seemed unusually surprised when you saw she had the mask,” the man suddenly said, changing the topic, keeping his head turned towards the playground.

“I, uh,” but how would he explain this? he couldn’t very well dodge the question, that would only rise suspicion, “… simply didn’t expect it to be here.”

He was aware the way he said it must’ve given away that there was more to it, but he would simply leave it at that. 

This time, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t seem too happy to leave it at that though. “There you go hiding again.”

“What-?”

That had seemed somewhat hostile.

Before Yoo Joonghyuk could continue his questioning, Kim Dokja caught himself, chuckling lightly: “Me hide? says you, you emotionally constipated bastard,” sounding amused. “If I revealed every detail about everything I know, then half my plans would have no ground to stand on,” he reasoned. “You should know that, after all you’ve plenty of things you’ve got no plans to reveal to the others either.” Or the constellations was implied.

“…” He could practically feel the man’s eyes narrow at him at his shifting of blame.

A dirty tactic, but it usually worked.

Instead of answering, the protagonist stood up. Kim Dokja’s fake smugness turning into a slight nervousness, his wings fluffing up a little, but the man did not draw his sword, in fact, he froze again.

Ah- If this mask was also shielding him from violence, then perhaps Yoo Joonghyuk should wear it more often, the reader thought.

“There’s no need for rash action,” he kept the smile on his face, aware it would do nothing to dissuade the other.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked like he was about to say something before a shout rang from below, immediately drawing both of the men’s attention away from each other and towards the source of the sound.

There was no-one new on the playground, and no hostile creature anywhere Kim Dokja looked, but the shout had sounded panicked, was there something on the ground he couldn’t see?

In the half second Kim Dokja wondered, Yoo Joonghyuk had already used his skill to get down to the group. The dark silhouette now down there with the children and Yoo Sangha. Kim Dokja cursed under his breath, letting himself drop to glide down as well, keeping the transformation as he landed.

But there was no threat.

“Hyung!” “Ahjussi!”

Instead, he was met with two children throwing themselves at him, grabbing onto his coat before proceeding to glare at the other man in the vicinity.

“What happened?” Yoo Sangha hurried to them. Was that Han Sooyoung behind her? She looked vaguely surprised. It didn’t seem like just one of her clones.

[Several Constellations are wondering just how long you have been up there.]

Those ones must’ve been watching the group’s side of the stream.

“That sooty bastard was trying to throw hyung off the building!”

“Oppa would never do that! Only for good reasons!”

Ah. So that’s how it was.

The raven haired woman, who he could now tell was definitively the original, started obnoxiously giggling at them as Kim Dokja awkwardly looked at the protagonist, before turning back to the kids. They did look genuinely upset.

[Many Constellations who like children coo at the adorable display.]

He knelt down, unsummoning his demon king form to become smaller. “No need to worry, we were just… talking.”

“I’d bet,” the author snickered. Why was she even here?

“I wasn’t trying to push him off,” Yoo Joonghyuk defended himself, sounding offended. That mask still wasn’t masking everything.

“See!” his sister joined him, “you were wrong!” pointing accusingly at the other two.

“Anyone can be wrong sometimes. And it looked like he was.” Shin Yoosung crossed her arms defensively. The man standing over him when one of his legs was dangling off the ledge might’ve given the wrong impression.

“Let’s not fight you three,” Yoo Sangha tried to calm them down, side-eyeing the protagonist with a mild curiosity before turning towards the reader and asking: “Why are you two here? Did something happen?” She must’ve noticed the little difference in the protagonist’s voice, or, more likely, the mask on his face.

“No, nothing happened, we just wanted to check on the kids,” standing back up and directing his eyes to flicker to Yoo Joonghyuk who was fussing over his sister in the background, and then back to her, to signal the reason why was in fact that guy.

“I see…” One obvious question made it’s way onto her face, but Yoo Mia beat her to it.

“Oppa, why are you wearing a mask?”

Yoo Joonghyuk picked up the little girl. “It’s because of a scenario penalty.” He shifted her into a protective hold, subtilty angling her away from them, or more specifically Yoo Sangha. Right, those two didn’t exactly have a trusting relationship, with her being both dangerous in her own right and not having been present in any of his previous runs. Him not getting personally informed of this trip outside was probably not making it better.

Kim Dokja was actually surprised he hadn’t mentioned it immediately, that was the thing he’d set out to do, no? Was that because of his sister being here, or was the mask responsible for his restraint? both? The reader hadn’t noticed him freezing up, but he also hadn’t been paying that close attention, focussing on placating the others first.

“You can’t take it of?” his sister poked at the thing, taking his attention away from.

“I can, but I’ll need to wear it for a while.”

“Why?”

“…it’s part of the penalty.”

Kim Dokja grinned—children and their questions. “The mask is preventing him from embarrassing himself,” he told his own kids, not bothering to lower his voice, who looked at him in slight confusion.

Beside Yoo Sangha, Han Sooyoung’s eyes sparkled in interest.

Yoo Mia on the other hand glared at him, but still asked, “oppa, is what the ugly squid is saying true?”

“…” reluctance creeping into her brother’s posture. 

The reader ignored the little girl’s hurtful words in favour of obnoxiously giggling at the other man; the protagonist couldn’t lie now.

“Yeah, is what the ugly squid is saying true?” the author echoed the question, joining Kim Dokja in teasing the protagonist, who pointedly ignored them.

Yoo Sangha side-eyed both of them with a vaguely amused expression.

“Remember? He’s got a penalty where he can only do and say the truth,” Kim Dokja simplified, glancing from his kids back to the protagonist with a smug smile. Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t chase him when he had his sister in his arms.

“But isn’t an item a bit overkill?” remarked Yoo Sangha.

“Nope,” the reader said.

[Several Constellations agree with your statement.]

“So he’ll just have to look like the phantom of the opera had his entire face burned off for the whole time?” Han Sooyoung half-laughed, pointing at the man in question—which, fair enough, was not that off of a description. Though, while the phantom of the opera’s charm relied on his mask, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t need such a thing to look charming. In fact, he looked much better without that empty white façade.

[Where in the story is it from?]

[A fairly short storyline from a different server, it only appeared once on one character who wore it as an accessory.]

[How’d you get the solution so fast then?]

[Lee Seolhwa happened to have it on hand.]

Han Sooyoung looked baffled at that. And yeah, he wasn’t too confident about it either.

[What exactly does it do?]

[You’ll see.]

As if on cue, Yoo Joonghyuk froze up again.

“Oppa, what’s happening?” Yoo Mia sounded slightly panicked, she must’ve felt him stop moving.

“That’s the effect,” Kim Dokja explained easily, knowing Yoo Joonghyuk would unfreeze in little over a second. “Don’t worry about it, it’s temporary: 3 seconds.”

One short moment, and the man moved to put his sister back down, probably to avoid freezing with her in his arms again. “It doesn’t hurt me,” he reassured her.

“I don’t like it,” the girl grumbled beside him, “it makes you feel dead.”

[A few Constellations are wondering about ‘???’s Mask of Temperance’s’ effect.]

[Constellation, Secretive Plotter, is amused by Incarnation, Yoo Mia’s words.]

Was that sensation so obvious to her? Kim Dokja put his hand under his chin, he only noticed it during skin contact when Yoo Joonghyuk had grabbed his wrist.

Lee Gilyoung was still glaring at the man. “Why do you have hyung’s feather?” It was then, that Kim Dokja noticed the boy was just absolutely covered in ants, alongside a colourful array of a few other kinds of bug, including five butterflies, or were some of those moths? They looked less colourful.

… insect king indeed, the reader thought, mildly disturbed.

“He gave it to me,” the protagonist answered, tilting his head in a way that showed it off more clearly.

“You’re lying.”

“Dokja-ssi said he couldn’t lie right now though.”

“Why would hyung give you a feather?” Lee Gilyoung looked at Yoo Joonghyuk like it was his fault that Kim Dokja would give him anything.

“Maybe he likes me.”

Hold up.

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, is cheering!]

[The ‘Fourth Wall’ is trembling slightly.]

The boy gaped at the man, not having expected that answer, looking back at the reader for a response, which was followed by everyone else’s eyes.

Away from their attention, Yoo Joonghyuk had frozen up again, but not because of the item this time. It seemed, the protagonist had not meant to respond like that.

“I-” Kim Dokja tried. If that bastard would please stop creating these awkward situations. “What are you looking at me for? It’s him who said it!” he stalled, trying to come up with a retort.

“Yeah, but is it true?” Han Sooyoung asked with a grin, evilly.

[Multiple Constellations are encouraging you to tell the truth.]

Now that he thought about it, he was actually feeling a little petty today. “No,” Kim Dokja answered.

[Not a single Constellation believes you.]

What kind of notification was that??

“Alright- You- I don’t even know what you want me to say to that,” the reader said, taking offense. Han Sooyoung was laughing at him, joined by Yoo Sangha’s light chuckling. Worst team-up ever.

“Can I also have a feather, ahjussi?” Shin Yoosung then suddenly asked him.

Huh?

“Then I also want one of hyung’s feathers!” Lee Gilyoung joined her.

Ah- “I… suppose I don’t see why not,” Kim Dokja responded awkwardly, reactivating his ‘Demon King Transformation’ to summon his wings, somewhat thankful for the distraction.

He was using that form a lot lately.

Picking out two slightly smaller feathers to give to them, he noticed Shin Yoosung was now holding what looked like a little owl, and a magpie was sitting on her shoulder, both of the two birds looking reasonably unnerved by his new, more feathery appearance but staying where they were. Right, that dog he saw must be somewhere here as well then.

“There you go.” He put the feathers in their hair in a similar manner to Yoo Joonghyuk’s, Shin Yoosung wasting no time immediately taking it out to look at it.

“It’s such a pretty covert feather.”

“What’s a covert feather?” Lee Gilyoung hadn’t taken out his, but looked at the one in the girl’s hand with a vested interest.

“It’s in the middle of the wing, see, it’s got a little fluff at its base, that’s there for insulation, the primaries and secondaries usually don’t have that, or only a little,” she explained, using one of Kim Dokja’s wings as the example, pointing to the outer feathers, which he assumed were the ‘primaries and secondaries’ she was speaking of.

[Constellation, Demon-like Judge of Fire, praises Incarnation, Shin Yoosung, for her knowledge of wing anatomy.]

Amused by the way the girl explained it like his wing was an easy to follow example on a mannequin, the reader responded by brushing it over her head, ruffling her hair a little and scaring the two birds, the magpie of which fluttering around a little before landing on her other shoulder again.

“Can I also have a feather then?” Han Sooyoung asked him, still grinning. 

“No,” he deadpanned back at her, putting one of his wings between them to block any further eye contact.

Which is when he felt a small stinging sensation on the back of said wing. He whipped around “You-” She’d actually just taken one.

[Constellation, Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, is crackling at his Incarnation’s actions.]

Dodging his wing while laughing, the author held the stolen item it like a pen, “Thanks, I’m gonna use this one to write.” Of. One. Mind.

“You don’t even use ink!”

“Every artist needs to try out different mediums from time to time.”

“That is not a writing feather.”

“Don’t worry, it will be.” She turned to Yoo Joonghyuk, “you want me to make yours into one as well?”

"I’d have to see your proof of work first," the protagonist responded dryly, crossing his arms.

“Both of you are impossible.” The reader puffed up his wings as he went over the spot with the missing feather he hadn’t removed himself, pushing around the ones left around it until it fit mostly right again.

“You should take better care of your wings, ahjussi,” he then got scolded by his own incarnation, “look, that one’s dead, that one too, and those aren’t aligned properly, also this one.”

Yes, he was very aware. Why did she have to know how to identify these things?

“You hear that Dokja? The beast expert just told you you’d make a terrible bird.”

“That would be very tragic, but we already established that I am not, in fact, a bird.”

He sighed seeing Shin Yoosung’s disapproving expression, “alright, I’ll take care of it,” meaning it this time. He could take some alone time in the evening.

For now though, he’d still have to follow Yoo Joonghyuk around, which likely meant staying here for a while because of Yoo Mia, until either it got too late, or the children got bored. But if he thought about it, maybe an afternoon spent on a playground didn’t seem too bad.