The Original Is Still the Original

Nothing but the ceiling. She turned her head, and there was no one there. Sihyun slowly lowered the hand that had been clutching her chest. And then. She shot upright.

“He's gone.”

Sihyun climbed out of bed and loosened up lightly. She rolled her shoulders, drew a deep breath—no pain at all. She held her lips pressed together for a few seconds, fighting it. But the moment Ryu Sungho's drenched face came to mind, her shoulders began to shake.

“Pfft—hah.”

Once the laughter started, it refused to stop. That hair, soaked flat and clinging to his head like strips of seaweed. And yet the face still straining to hold on to its dignity.

My, do take good care of your health.

“Oh, I will.”

The corner of Sihyun's mouth curled up slyly. “But first, I'd better take good care of your reputation.”

The water of decay was not the kind of thing that washed off easily. That expensive suit would have to be thrown out as of today, and the stench soaked into his skin would linger for days. Every single person who met Ryu Sungho from now on would wrinkle their nose at the reek rolling off him. Just imagining it was enough to set her off laughing again.

“By the way, they all buy it so easily.”

She hadn't set out to fake an illness. From the moment she had summoned Vodyanoy, she'd been waiting for the backlash. Same when the contract was sealed, same when she used his power. Her plan had been to show the backlash hitting her exactly as it came—or with a little theatrical embellishment. But nothing had come at all. If she hadn't been acting, she would have walked straight into Ryu Sungho's suspicion.

Sihyun looked down at her fingertips. “Why am I genuinely fine?”

Come to think of it, the contract itself had been strange. Vodyanoy was not a being a Level 1 could contract with so easily. And yet that thing had snapped up the contract without even demanding a price. And one more thing. The thread connecting her to Vodyanoy was still faintly there. Even with the summon released, it didn't feel completely severed. What was it he had said, back then?

How is there a human who connects so deeply as this?

'……He said connected, didn't he?'

Sihyun opened her skill window.

'Resonance is high?'

In her past life, no summon of hers had ever come with an attribute like that. Sihyun narrowed her eyes. 'Don't tell me it's because of that resonance stat?'

The word resonance itself was nothing new. It had always described how well a summoner and summon matched each other. But it had never appeared as a separate stat before. She had casually probed Jisu, Hoyeon, and Jena about it, and none of the three had the faintest idea what she meant. Apparently it was some unique ability that only she possessed.

'So dying and coming back throws in powers like this, huh?'

Sihyun idly probed the mana within her. “……Even after using that power, it didn't drop.”

The tiny trickle that escaped when she summoned Vodyanoy had been all. After that, whether she was sustaining him or unleashing the water of decay, her mana hadn't diminished one bit.

'Does that resonance thing substitute for mana?'

A hunter's limit was, in the end, the limit of their mana. No matter how powerful a summoner was, once the mana ran dry, that was the end of the line. But if drawing on a summon's power required no mana at all—

'Then I could keep using it indefinitely, without any price?'

Goosebumps rose along Sihyun's arms. 'That would make her…'

Stronger than even her past self had ever dared to reach.

A week later, in the dead of night's last hours. The massive studio on the outskirts of Incheon buzzed with preparations for the first day of filming.

“Clear those cables by the entrance! The guild entrance shot goes in one take!”

The crew's clipped voices flew back and forth without pause. The set lights flickered on one by one, and the red tally lights of the cameras sweeping the audience seats blinked to life. PD Kim Taeseok took a sip of coffee in front of his monitors. “Alright, let's roll.”

The cameras rotated slowly, drinking in the entire set.

With thirty officially registered guilds nationwide, thirtieth place meant dead last. The applause came in sparse, scattered bursts.

“Seongyeon first? Really?”

“The producers are baiting the controversy hard.”

Someone clicked their tongue openly; someone else crossed their arms and stared at the stage. Then, the door at the end of the runway opened. Through the blazing white light, four silhouettes emerged. Guild Leader Lee Jena at the front, followed by Kang Jisu and Jung Hoyeon—and Lee Sihyun. All four wore Seongyeon's white uniform, matched to the last detail. The gold crests engraved with the moon and stars, the sky and the lotus, caught the lights above and glittered brilliantly. The murmur that had been rippling through the hall died away for a moment.

“……That's the Seongyeon uniform?”

“I've only seen it in photos.”

“They still wear that thing, huh.”

The words dripped with mockery, and yet not one of those gazes left the runway. “……Well, I'll say this—Sung Jeyeon knew how to make a uniform.”

In the end, someone had to admit it. When the four figures in white finally lined up at the end of the runway, the atmosphere changed. Even those who had made up their minds to sneer found it hard to brush past that familiar silhouette with indifference. Back in the days when any of them could have died at any moment. Countless people had looked up at that white uniform and lived, nursing the hope of walking back out alive. Whatever resentment they held toward Seongyeon, it could not erase that memory. A staff member checking the monitors let out an unconscious gasp of admiration. Kim Taeseok, too, couldn't tear his eyes from the screen for a long moment. He remembered the era when that white uniform had filled every screen in the country. He gave a small nod. “The original is still the original.”

The camera swept slowly over the four lined up at the runway's end. “Seongyeon Guild, please take your seats.”

Seats were arranged along either side of the runway, one section per guild, modeled on the front row of a fashion show. Which seats were the seats of honor needed no explanation. At the very front of the runway stood each guild's banner. Sihyun's gaze traveled down the row of seats, stretching further and further away. The very last seat. Far down where the runway shrank into the distance, that was where the Seongyeon banner stood. 'Broadcast bastards.'

Sihyun caught the producers' intent at a glance and sat down through gritted teeth. Small cameras clung to the table like barnacles, but Sihyun ignored them entirely—crossing her legs, folding her arms, watching the proceedings. There wasn't a trace of nerves. There wasn't even curiosity. Jena, Jisu, and Hoyeon stared at her in wonder. 'Is Sihyun really not fazed at all?'

Until a few days ago, hadn't she been an ordinary high schooler?

“Sihyun, aren't you nervous?”

“Not really.”

Nervous? Over this?

At that effortlessly casual answer, the three exchanged glances. “She really takes after Jeyeon noona, doesn't she.” “No kidding. Jeyeon unni never blinked once in front of a camera either.”

Then Jisu looked Sihyun's outfit over again, fresh eyes, and laughed. “You know, that uniform really suits you, Sihyun.” “It does. White works on her.”

Despite the threefold praise, Sihyun remained unmoved. 'Suits me, my ass.'

Seongyeon's uniform had been designed around Sung Jeyeon, who stood 178 centimeters tall. Long, straight lines meant to flatter height and a solid frame. Put on the small, delicate body of Lee Sihyun, all that dignity evaporated. 'I look like a shrimp with a broom handle for a torso.'

There was a time when walking out in this uniform made everyone look up to her. Girls used to trail after her with shining eyes, saying, Unni, you're so cool. She'd never shown it, but how pleased she'd been. Now, "cool" was the last word for it.

“Was our uniform always this adorable?” “Sihyun could debut as an idol.” “Our Seongyeon mascot, everyone.”

All three of them were cooing over her as if she were a grandchild dressed up in holiday finery. 'This is humiliation.'

Not that she could trade in the body she'd been born with. 'Ugh, fine. Do as you please.'

While Sihyun resigned herself, the other guilds made their entrances one after another. The higher the rank, the louder the applause and cheering grew. But among all the guild leaders leading those processions, there was not a single face Sihyun recognized. 'A bunch of total strangers.'

She supposed she couldn't blame anyone. Most of the people who had climbed the Tower alongside her back then had died in its latter half, and of the handful of survivors, most were foreigners. It was only natural she'd find no familiar faces among the domestic guild leaders. Just as the endless introductions were starting to wear on her—

A roar of cheers erupted, nothing like the scattered clapping Seongyeon had received. But only one name reached Sihyun's ears. 'Seo Jeongchan?'

Her lounging body straightened up on its own. 'Don't tell me—that Seo Jeongchan?'