"Those girls really went all out dressing me up," I muttered, tugging lightly at the hem of my dress.
After telling my friends about the dinner I'd be having later, they dragged me straight to their dorm and refused to let me escape until I looked "perfect."
The outfit they chose was, admittedly, stunning—something that could only belong to Han Seora.
A dress that blended the colors of night and flame, glimmering faintly under the light.
In the novel, there were only a few ways to enter the Underworld—and one of them was through a warp gate.
Though the teleporter's location was hidden, with my talent, finding it wouldn't be too hard.
"Library of the Omniscient," I whispered. "Show me the fastest route to the Underworld."
As soon as I spoke, glowing silver threads unfurled before my eyes, weaving through the air like strands of fate.
They formed a path, leading me straight toward my destination.
Following the thread was the last step to crossing over.
The path ended at a narrow alleyway, tucked between two forgotten buildings.
At the end of it stood a single door—ordinary at a glance, yet radiating a strange heaviness that made the air feel thicker.
When I opened it, a man wearing a mask shaped like a deer's skull awaited me.
"What is the purpose of your visit today, young miss?" he asked.
A trick question. One left by the King of the Underworld herself.
If I answered truthfully, the gate would reject me—and I'd be expelled from the Underworld before even stepping inside.
I drew in a quiet breath and spoke the only answer that would be accepted.
"I wish to have a pleasant night today."
The masked man tilted his head. For a moment, I thought I'd gotten the code wrong.
Then, without a word, he turned toward the warp portal.
The air within it began to twist and shimmer, distorting into something like a whirlpool made of light and shadow.
"You may step inside now, young miss," the masked man said, his voice calm yet echoing slightly through the mask. "And indeed… it is a pleasant night tonight."
Without hesitation, I stepped through.
The world around me warped—colors bending, air pressure shifting—until I emerged somewhere entirely different.
This place was far more refined than the previous chamber. Around me, people were appearing from other warp portals—each one stepping out with the same quiet purpose.
So this is the Underworld…
It's exactly how the novel described it.
The Underworld was like an eternal night city—a massive underground metropolis glowing faintly with crimson lanterns. The air carried the scent of smoke and mana, thick enough to taste.
They said the Underworld's size rivaled that of Singapore, and standing here now, I could believe it.
The streets were crowded with people, all wearing shades of black. It was almost eerie—like there was an unspoken dress code everyone instinctively followed.
I whispered quietly under my breath,
"Library of the Omniscient, show me the path to Hannibal Liana."
A silver thread appeared before me, faint but unmistakable, glowing softly as it stretched into the distance.
I adjusted my cloak, took a breath, and began to follow it.
◇◇◇
Before I knew it, I had already arrived at my destination—an old clinic that looked like something straight out of a fairy tale.
At the front of the building stood a wooden sign, slightly weathered but still elegant.
{HANNIBAL NIGHT CLINIC}
I knocked on the door. After a short moment, it creaked open, revealing a woman who greeted me with a calm smile.
"Nice meeting you tonight, young lady. You must be Han Seora, correct?"
The woman's green hair framed her face softly, though her glasses were crooked—like she had just woken up from a nap.
"Yes. Then you must be Hannibal Liana, the one that old lady mentioned."
"Well, come on in," she said warmly. "I've prepared a few things for you."
"Pardon the intrusion."
I stepped inside.
The clinic was cleaner than I expected—simple yet comforting. Dried herbs hung neatly from the ceiling, swaying gently in the faint breeze from an open window. The air smelled faintly of mint, tea, and a hint of something floral.
Now that I could see her properly, Hannibal Liana certainly looked the part of a doctor. She wore a white coat that carried the scent of herbs and medicine, her long green hair tied back into a neat ponytail. After she adjusted her glasses, the image of a professional healer was complete.
She sat me down on a wooden chair while she prepared a cup of tea for the both of us.
"Say, Seora—what do you think about that teacher of yours?" she asked suddenly, her voice casual but her eyes sharp.
"Well, that old man was certainly a genius," I said, leaning back a little. "But he was lazy… and kind of creepy."
I let out a soft laugh, remembering how he used to nap in the middle of class or stare at nothing for hours.
"That sounds like him," Liana said with a small smile. Then she stopped stirring the tea and looked at me.
"Hey, do you remember his name?"
"What do you mean? His name is…"
My voice trailed off.
I froze, realizing something strange.
I couldn't remember.
Not his name.
Not his face.
Even the sound of his voice felt… blurred, like a dream slipping away the more I tried to recall it.
"…No," I said quietly, my chest tightening. "I can't remember his name. Do you remember it?"
Liana exhaled, setting down the spoon with a faint clink.
"Here's the thing, Seora. Right before he disappeared, he came to this place. We talked for a while—about a lot of things, actually. But the strange part is… I can't remember what we talked about. Not how it started. Not when it ended. Not even what the topic was."
Her voice faltered.
"It's like that entire conversation was erased from my mind."
"But that doesn't make any sense!" I shot up from my chair, the legs scraping sharply against the wooden floor. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, louder than my voice.
Hannibal didn't even flinch. She simply smiled, that calm doctor's smile that somehow made everything feel worse.
"It does—just not if you're thinking within normal logic. The moment you involve a certain Constellation, nothing makes sense anymore."
"Constellation…?" I echoed, lowering my voice.
Constellations—beings that weren't gods, nor mortals. They existed above, beyond, around everything. Watching. Interfering. Whispering.
Ever since I came to this world, their names had spread like myth and madness alike.
They weren't creators nor destroyers. They were observers—yet sometimes, their gaze alone could change the world.
"Then… which Constellation does this situation connect with?" I asked, forcing the words out.
"This is only a theory," she said softly, adjusting her glasses. "But I think it's the Constellation of Fa—"
BANG!
Her sentence never finished.
The sound ripped through the room, deafening and final.
A spray of crimson burst from the side of her head, painting the wall—and me—in warm blood. The teacup in her hand fell and shattered, spilling red-stained tea across the table.
For a moment, my body refused to react.
My breath caught. My thoughts blanked.
Only the slow thud of her body hitting the floor broke the silence.
"H-Hannibal…?" I whispered, voice trembling.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and herbs. I dropped to my knees, pressing my fingers against her neck—cold, unmoving.
The window behind her was cracked open. A perfect hole glimmered through the shattered glass, moonlight spilling in.
A sniper shot. Clean. Efficient. Instant death.
My instincts screamed. Mana flooded my veins as I slammed my hand against the floor.
A circle of blue light bloomed beneath me, glowing brighter with every breath.
[Constellation Magic: Celestial Veil.]
A dome of translucent starlight erupted around me just as another gunshot tore through the night.
CRACK!
The bullet hit the barrier, sending shimmering ripples through the air before falling harmlessly to the floor.
Through the distortion of mana, I saw him—
A silhouette standing on the opposite rooftop, long coat fluttering in the wind, a rifle gleaming in his hands.
Then he jumped.
He landed on the cobblestone with unnatural grace, the smoke of gunpowder still curling from his barrel.
Under the flickering streetlights of the Underworld, the assassin's face caught the glow—half shadow, half human.
And in that moment, even before he spoke, I felt it.
That suffocating, unshakable sense of danger.
Whoever this man was…
He wasn't just a killer.
He was a professional.
And I was his next target.
To be continued