[Castro logy].
A card astrology shop that seemed somewhat sophisticated.
“l’m about to release an album, and I’m struggling to decide on the title track.”
I saw Benjamin, who had come in as a customer.
It was really Benjamin.
The singer who heals hearts, Benjamin. A pro who knew how to softly blend magic into his voice.
He was quite a star even before his regression. I used to listen to his songs quite often too.
“…”
Wearing a turban pressed down on my head, I alternated my gaze between Benjamin and his manager.
Honestly, it’s fascinating. The entertainment industry was always a distant world to me, both then and now.
“…Shall I play them for you?”
Benjamin asked as he took out his CD.
“No need.”
I reached out my hand to stop him.
It would seem much more mystical to guess without listening, rather than listening to the songs.
“A title track, you say… Are you asking me to choose the most shining song among the tracks?”
“Ah, yes. Is it okay not to listen? Here’s the tracklist of my album.”
Benjamin handed me a small piece of paper. I looked at the list of tracks written on it.
A total of 11 songs.
More than half were unfamiliar, but there were definitely two that were famous.
“S0 how does the card reading work”
“Sssssss…”
“Jesus, you scared me.”
I made a strange sound with my mouth and drew a card from thin air. It was red.
Bethune’s “Card Draw.”
“Whoa.”
Benjamin and his manager flinched in surprise.
I casually waved the card around and then with a snap! I turned it into smoke. Benjamin chuckled.
“What, is this magic?”
“This one.”
I pointed to one of the songs. Benjamin’s eyes widened.
“ B ra h ms…”
The manager beside him also looked quite surprised.
Of course, the original title track that Benjamin and his company had in mind must have been this ‘Brahms.’
In reality, this was the song that had been released as the title track.
“S0, mage, are you saying to make Brahms the title track”
“Exclude it.”
“…Excuse me?”
Benjamin asked, looking bewildered.
“Exclude it?”
“This song itself carries bad luck.”
Bad luck.
This Brahms would cause an explosive reaction for a week but would soon be embroiled in plagiarism disputes, and it was indeed an inextricable case of plagiarism.
“Different souls are embedded in it.”
“What does that mean…?”
Thud-
I drew another card. It was blue.
This time, I pointed to a different song.
“This one.”
“…Yesterday?”
Yesterday. A song with a melody line that seemed simpler and more monotonous compared to Brahms, but it was precisely because of that it would become a continental hit.
“However, it seems you plan to exclude this one.”
But this Yesterday was not included in the current album.
Yesterday was the song Benjamin released after Brahms disastrously failed, living as quiet as a dead mouse before suddenly coming out with it.
“…”
Benjamin quickly turned to his manager with a suspicious look that seemed to ask, “Did you tell him?” The manager shook his head vigorously.
Benjamin spoke up.
“Yes. It’s too quiet and doesn’t really fit the album’s concept… We're leaning towards cutting it from the album.”
“lnclude it. It may start off insignificant, but it will certainly become m agn ifice nt.”
My certainty left Benjamin with a bewildered expression.
…
On the way back to the company, inside the luxury Benz, Benjamin was scratching the back of his neck.
“Does he have some kind of psychic ability? How did he know we were planning to cut ‘Yesterday’? You didn't really tell him, did you?”
“Absolutely not. It was Benjamin who found the place, after all.”
“Right, that’s true.”
No one had been told about it, and it was a fortune-telling shop he had stumbled upon while consulting with a cat influencer.
“Don’t worry too much about it. We just went there for fun. Most people at the company prefer 'Brahms’ anyway.”
“Yeah. Now I feel even more uneasy for having gone there.”
Benjamin clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“What did he mean by ’different souls are embedded in it'…?”
Different souls. Different souls.
Turning the fortune teller's words over in his mouth, a sudden thought struck him.
Composers sometimes use the expression ‘soul’ when they compose. The composer’s soul is infused into their work—something like that.
So, the phrase ’different souls are embedded in it’ could mean…
“Could it be plagiarism?”
“Plagiarism?”
“Yeah. The composer of ’Brahms' was Velot, right?”
“Yes.”
A famous composer.
That’s why they didn’t check for plagiarism, meaning they didn’t look for similar existing compositions.
“Let’s look into it more, just in case. See if there are any similar songs. And…”
Of course, a fortune teller is just a fortune teller. No matter how much magic advances, predicting a person’s future is impossible.
So whether to believe it or not is a matter of choice—but—
“Let’s not cut ‘Yesterday’.”
Benjamin’s own composition, which the president and producers wanted to cut for the sake of the album’s coherence.
Adding or removing one song wouldn’t completely change the album.
“How was it?”
Meanwhile, at a famous movie theater in the capital city of Edsilla.
Riley, having finished her popcorn and cola, placed them on the trash shelf and asked. Dr. Killian, standing beside her, smiled thinly.
“Ah, it was entertai ning.”
“Any historical inaccuracies?”
Riley inquired about the authenticity. It was a spy movie related to magic and science, after all.
Killian scratched his cheek.
“Perhaps… To be honest, I don’t really think about those things. It ruins the immersion.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. But if I had to point something out, the design of the magic direct circuit was too far-fetched. A circuit that transmits magic without any loss is impossible. Also, the process of calculating that coefficient…”
Despite claiming not to think about such things, he rambled on for nearly 3,000 characters on his own.
Riley was dumbfounded by his monologue.
“…Ah, I see. Of course. I had similar thoughts.”
“Yes. Exactly. It’s always nice to have a conversation with someone like you, Riley.”
Killian was pleased with just a bit of agreement from her.
He’s an easy man.
Or perhaps, am I the one making it easy?
Just as Riley was boosting her self-esteem for no reason.
“…Huh?”
She encountered someone on the street.
A blond man with golden eyes. A promising Chaser from the Intelligence Agency.
Rumor had it, he was a leading candidate for a balancer.
“Mr. Shion?”
Shion Ascal nodded at Riley and then at Killian in turn.
Riley chuckled awkwardly.
“What a coincidence, right?”
“Yes. Nice to meet you. This must be Dr. Killian, I presu me?”
“Oh, you know him?”
“Of course. He works in the most crucial artificial intelligence sector.”
Shion offered his hand to Killian, and they shook hands.
“Are you two on a date?”
At Shion’s question, Riley gave a peculiar smile.
“Um… He’s my guest. I'm trying to get to know him better.”
Shion looked at Killian, examining his face as if trying to dissect it.
“Don’t look too deeply. He’s a valuable asset.”
“…Yes. I’m aware. Well then, I’ll be off.”
Shion turned away nonchalantly. Watching his retreating figure, Killian asked.
“ls that gentleman a Chaser?”
“Yes. He’s a Chaser.”
Riley continued in a low voice.
“The most reliable for Libra…”
Shion Ascal’s achievements and abilities were dazzling. His dedication to serving only Libra was well-known not just in the Aerial Garden and among the direct lineage, but also among the elders.
“But if it were the opposite side.”
Riley looked at Killian.
“He’s probably a disaster.”
Shion Ascal is also a person of interest from Vancheon's perspective. Riley, a spy for Vancheon, deliberately provides information to ensure that Vancheon and Shion Ascal’s paths do not cross, in an effort to minimize any clashes.
His obsession, his near-fanatical loyalty, would indeed be a burdensome opponent for Vancheon.
“…I see.”
Killian muttered in a somewhat bitter tone. As they conversed and walked, they soon reached the parking lot.
“Don’t worry. Like I said, if your on Libra’s side, he’s the most reliable person there is.”
Riley pressed her car key firmly. Beep-beep—she climbed into the driver’s seat of the flashy luxury car.
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride.”
…
Edsilla National University Dormitory
“You did well.”
I praised Grawl as I stroked him upon his return.
—Oh, it’s not hard at all. It’s fun pretending to be human.
Just now, Grawl had infiltrated Akane’s doll and pretended to be Killian. It was very natural.
“…Pretending to be human?”
—Yes.
The black cat Grawl yawned—stretching and flicking its tail. I told the creature.
“You are human too.”
…Really?
Grawl’s eyes widened in surprise.
“What I consider human isn’t much. Just an entity that communicates smoothly in society and lives a social life.”
Grawl. Currently a cat, but on social media and the internet, he’s quite a famous influencer, sometimes a philanthropist who donates his earnings to charity, and above all, a good guy.
“You communicate well with me. You communicate well in society. You’re trouble-free. And kind.”
Grawl smacked his lips contentedly and added.
—And cute?
“…Anyway. That’s enough to be considered human.”
Grawl became a monster in the past.
Probably because of his identity. The confusion stemming from being between a monster and a human, from the very essence of his existence.
“ITI take the role of dying this time.”
I will be with him. Not in a master-servant relationship where one commands and the other obeys, but just like friends.
—Yes!
“…SO, here’s the thing.”
I placed my hand on Grawl’s back.
“Even if I die, you try living.”
…
Grawl’s expression hardened for a moment.
“Let’s start preparing for independence now. You know my condition.”
Grawl narrowed his eyes and growled softly.
—You said you still have 8 more years.
“Still”
—Don’t talk about things that are too far away. Focus on the present. Who knows? Some amazing technology might be invented.
“…True.”
I chuckled lightly.
“Maybe so. Let’s aim to live until exactly 50 then. But you have to become independent before that, no matter what.”
-Why?
“I want to enjoy life a bit too. Being one body is inconvenient.”
Sharing sight, telepathy—I can block it whenever I want, but still, being one body has its inconveniences.
…What are you planning to do? Got yourself a lover? Is it the redhead, the blonde, or the blue-haired one?
Grawl asked with a suspicious tone.
“Shut up.”
—Cough!
I flicked the tip of his nose with my finger.
Drring-drring-
Just then, a call came through on my Libra phone. It was Zia.
Ahem. Hem.
I cleared my throat with a fake cough before answering.
“Hello?”
…Yeah. Shion.
“Yes. What’s up?”
—The annual Libra gathering… it's not far off.
“Oh, is that so.”
The annual Libra gathering.
Once
It’s a
-For
a year, the Libra bloodlines gather. Not just the direct lines but the elders too. pretty important event, and attendance is mandatory for the direct lines.
my protection… I’ve chosen you.
On that day, only Libra bloodlines are allowed entry, but those of the direct line can choose one bodyguard.
-Is that okay…?
“Of course, it’s an honor. Then Lady Johanna will be attending as well.”
—Yeah……. She’ll probably torment me……. She always does at the annual gatherings……. It’s stressful.
“Torment, you say…”
Suddenly, a good idea struck me.
A plan that would prevent Johanna from tormenting Zia, and for me, a chance to advance a little further.
“Leave it to me. I'll make sure Lady Johanna can’t bother you.”
The plan, in other words, was a cliche operation.
Libra’s Aerial Garden.
Johanna has been busy with work lately. The Royal Casino, department stores, the Magic Space, new city projects, and so on… She’s personally handling all of it.
As soon as she was discharged from the hospital, she threw herself into a frenzy of work as if something had sparked her interest.
“You’ve worked hard in today’s meeting as well.”
The construction of Edsilla’s new city. That’s the project Johanna has been engrossed in lately.
The wealthy want a place where they can live as the wealthy do, so she’s creating the perfect residential space to distribute, complete with department stores, hotels, swimming pools, golf courses, and resorts.
She’s investing all her stacked cash into it.
“What’s the next schedule?”
Johanna asked Victor.
“The Aerial Garden.”
“…The Aerial Garden?”
“Yes. The family gathering is the next day.”
“Damn it all.”
Johanna bit her lip.
The family gathering, the schedule she loathed the most. Meeting Jade, Derek, Zia, and the like was shitty enough, but it was eighteen times shittier to meet the elders.
“Has that day come already?”
“Yes. We will depart immediately.”
“…”
Johanna sank silently into her chair, pressing down on her throbbing temples.
Cough—
Suddenly, the sound of a dry cough echoed in her ears.
Drip-drip—
She saw droplets of blood falling onto the sandy ground.
It wasn't just a simple coughing up of blood. Something like a clot had fallen from her mouth.
Thus, Johanna kept thinking about that scene.
It bothered her.
Whether someone died, or she saw someone already dead, or even when she killed someone herself.
She had never been so irritated.
What kind of injury did Shion Ascal sustain?
And why does he work every day without taking a single day off?
It keeps coming to mind.
It’s annoying.
She had stopped the fake hospitalization, but now it seemed she might actually need a real one.
“…lt’s suffocating.”
That professor was right.
She should distance herself from that bastard Shion Ascal.
Being close to him, staying near him, there’s nothing good about it.
The best answer is to distance herself from him…
“We've arrived.”
“Let’s go.”
Meanwhile, they had arrived at the Aerial Garden.
Johanna ascended the elevator reserved for direct descendants and entered the mansion in Section 0.
“You’ve ar rived.”
The maids greeted her.
“The rest?”
She asked about the other direct descendants.
“Lord Jade is in the garden, Lord Derek is busy in his office.”
“There’s one more.”
“Lady Zia is in her room.”
Zia was in her room.
Johanna entered the mansion. Her footsteps were heavy and resolute—thump, thump, thump.
“Where is she?”
She had a habit of tormenting Zia at every annual gathering. Of course, she intended to do the same today.
Zia was a perfect stress-relief punching bag.
[Zia]
“Hey!”
At Zia’s room. The moment she flung open the door as she used to.
“…”
Johanna stopped. All thoughts ceased.
Zia wasn’t there.
Instead, Shion Ascal was present.
But he was half-naked.
In other words, he had taken off his shirt.
“…”
Without realizing it, Johanna’s eyes scanned him from head to toe.
His body was solid. Beautifully sculpted. Not an ounce of excess fat, not a hint of waste.
Only, there were scars on his chest. Multiple gunshot wounds left their marks.
—Thump.
Suddenly, her heart shook violently. It was a beating so violently, it hurt.
Johanna swallowed. She grabbed something like a weapon to hide her agitation.
“Why are you here?”
Shion Ascal bowed politely.
“I apologize. I was in the middle of changing into my security atti re.”
“Why would you do that in Zia’s room…”
Suddenly, the answer came to her.
This bastard must be Zia’s bodyguard.
“The lady instructed me to change here.”
“I see.”
Johanna quickly exited and slammed the door shut.
“No…”
Dazed, she leaned against the wall, checking her own condition.
“…”
Her body was hot, sweat was running, her heart was pounding, and the image of him just now was etched into her retina like a painting.
His physique was impeccably sculpted.
“Damn it.”
Johanna, with a twisted expression of frustration, looked at the object she had unwittingly grabbed. It was a pencil case.
“Why…”
She ran her fingers through her hair, disheveled. It was damp with sweat. A strange heat filled her entire body.
Johanna hurriedly moved her legs.
Wanting to cool down her suddenly overheated body, to escape from this place at once…
