The Regressor Can Make Them All - Chapter 141

Chapter 141

“Ugh…”

Se-Hoon felt an aching pain in his solar plexus. It was as if his blood vessels were being stabbed by spikes mixed into his bloodstream, forcing him to wince involuntarily.

She said it would only hurt a little… I shouldn’t have trusted her.

He had already lost consciousness several times so far and was unable to clearly recall what he had done just a few minutes ago.

Wincing again, Se-Hoon swallowed the vomit that was about to come out and rubbed his solar plexus.

“You’re such a wimp,” said someone languidly from the side.

The office was dark, due to all the lights being off, so all he could faintly see were things like the table and the cabinet which were illuminated by the moonlight glimmering through the window. As such, he could only make out the outline of the owner of the voice, his master.

“To think you’re fainting from just activating the Demonic Blood Art and not even pulling out the Soul Weapon. Tsk tsk…” said his master while wiggling her toes. She was fully leaned back in her chair with her feet propped up on the desk.

No wonder she has no one around her, grumbled Se-Hoon inwardly, squinting his eyes to see his master who was busy clicking her tongue instead of worrying about her hurting disciple.

What was the point of having good skills if she could never get recognition for them due to her personality, which left her forever despised by others?

Continuing to grumble inwardly, he suddenly felt his master’s gaze on him from within the darkness.

“You seem to have a lot of complaints.”

“…No, ma’am.”

“You do remember you can quit anytime, right? I always tell you that you just have to leave behind everything I taught you.”

Se-Hoon looked at her in disbelief.

“Your words sure are soft, despite essentially telling me to leave all my organs behind.”

While it might end with a hand or an arm for others, since Se-Hoon had modified his whole body with Soul Honing, he would have to leave everything except his bare skin in order for him to leave behind what he had learned from his master.

And his master definitely knew that, meaning she was telling him to endure all the pain and continue to be her disciple or die.

His master chuckled softly in the dark upon seeing Se-Hoon’s dissatisfaction with how unfair she was being.

“Like I said. You can leave if you’re dissatisfied with my teachings, but…”

“Yes, yes. I’ll have to leave all my organs behind before going.”

There was no point in continuing the conversation, so Se-Hoon responded half-heartedly and checked his solar plexus again. It had healed more compared to earlier, but the scar was still clearly visible.

Touching it, a slightly complicated feeling arose, So a sword pierced through here.

The sword hadn’t just slightly penetrated his heart; it had gone completely through it and pierced out the other side. Back then, he had felt the chilling sensation that one would only feel right before dying.

He ruminated over that vivid feeling again, and suddenly, a question came to mind. He looked at his master.

“Master.”

“What is it?” She gazed at him from within the darkness.

Recognizing that she had no plans of changing her demeanor, Se-Hoon just straight up asked, “Using my blood as the medium to draw out my soul’s memories in order to reproduce a weapon doesn’t seem like a bad method in and of itself. But isn’t using the soul a bit inefficient?”

“How so?”

“Well… aren’t souls just kind of inefficient in general?”

With the emergence of magic and the development of necromancy, the miracle of resurrection became a reality, which naturally meant the existence of souls was also acknowledged. But as for what exactly a soul was—its definition had yet to be clearly established.

Some said that it was the combination of mana and synesthetic mindscape, whereas others said that it was a third kind of existence completely unrelated to mana. Regardless of what it was, with such an unclear definition, the training methods that involved utilizing souls were all over the place.

An existence proven to exist yet remained unclear—that was the definition of the soul in the current era.

“Well, you’re not wrong. If the technique I’m teaching you right now had been tailored to use mana rather than the soul, it might have become more convenient and powerful than now.”

“Then—”

“But it would have also been easily tainted,” she answered, cutting him off.

She continued her explanation.

“You see, you are going to encounter many different things in your life. You’ll learn techniques from others, and you could receive mana from someone else. You might even undergo organ transplantation due to an unexpected accident.”

Fwoosh-

A small flame at the tip of his master’s finger lit a cigarette that Se-Hoon didn’t even know she had been holding.

“When your body is influenced by external factors like that, their residue remains in your body. So then the question becomes…”

Her gaze pierced through the darkness, staring at Se-Hoon intensely.

“…can you truly say your body is purely your own?”

Contemplating her question briefly, Se-Hoon then replied, “No.”

He believed that if other people’s techniques, mana, and organs entered one’s own body, it was hard to say that the body was still entirely one’s own, even if everything had been transplanted willingly.

After answering, Se-Hoon could see the glow of his master’s cigarette slowly move up and down.

“That’s right. As you now know, the human body is easily tainted by others. It’s not something one can avoid, even if they try. At some point in your life, you might even be forced into it.”

“Hmm…”

“Of course, tainting one’s body is not a problem in and of itself. In some cases, it might even be encouraged to do so. But my Demonic Blood Art isn’t like that.”

The glow of his master’s cigarette brightened momentarily in the dark room before it darkened and she exhaled a cloud of gray smoke.

“If you don’t properly adhere to the required materials and blueprints, you can’t predict what you’ll create. You might end up making a Soul Weapon that will make your body explode like a balloon. Therefore, instead of an easily taintable body, you use the soul.”

Se-Hoon now understood to some extent, but he still had another question.

“Then, is using the soul safe?”

“Hmm? Of course not.”

His master chuckled.

“It’s just easier to maintain pure compared to the body. As long as you don’t lose yourself, you can preserve its purity in any situation.”

At his master’s answer, Se-Hoon began pondering how he should go about preserving the purity of his soul. But before he could get very far—

“So, remember this.” She glared at Se-Hoon from the darkness and said, “Never, ever should you let anyone inside you.”

Like usual, her gaze was languid, cold, and distant.

Her advice, combined with her earlier explanations, finally allowed Se-Hoon to understand the meaning of her gaze.

How cold…

Even though she had taught him her secret techniques, they still remained complete and utter strangers.

***

“…”

Se-Hoon opened his eyes and slowly looked around.

The first things he noted were the ceiling of the hospital room and the feeling of the bed, both of which he had experienced a few times before. The fact that he was in Askus gave him a sense of relief.

I didn’t die.

Someone must have arrived in time to handle the assassins.

With his survival confirmed, he moved on to check his body’s condition.

Hmm… it’s a mess.

While his muscles and bones only had a few tears and cracks, the state of everything else—his heart, internal organs, blood vessels, and mana circuits—was beyond imagination. His body looked like a torn rag that had been forcibly stitched together.

He clicked his tongue at the sensation of the stitches all over his body.

This must be hundreds of stitches…

He didn’t want to admit it, but his injuries seemed to be beyond repair. It was his first time experiencing such deep wounds since he regressed. In fact, he disapproved.

I expected some backlash from forcing the Demonic Blood Art, but this is too much. It was like getting hit by a dump truck when he had anticipated a bicycle to turn the corner.

Frowning at the unexpected seriousness of the backlash, he thought, So there was a reason Master warned me so many times…

The exact cause of his injury was still unclear, but since there wasn’t an issue with the activation process, it surely had something to do with his soul.

Troubled, he sighed deeply in his mind.

“Ugh…”

The sound of rustling caught his attention. Gazing to the side, he saw Luize dozing off in a chair.

…Look who’s here.

She should have been exhausted from all those consecutive uses of Incantation Magic, yet she was here, taking care of him. Her commendable presence made him smile. Se-Hoon opened his mouth.

“Hey… ahem! Hmm…”

As he tried to clear his throat upon hearing his unexpectedly hoarse voice, Luize answered in a drowsy voice, “What…”

“Uh… ahem! Wow. Hey, bring me some water, will you? My throat’s strangely dry.”

“Why should I—”

Thud!

Luize, who had been answering while still half asleep, suddenly jumped up from her seat and looked at Se-Hoon, blinking rapidly in surprise.

What’s wrong with her?

She was acting like she saw someone who had been unconscious for a long time wake up.

However, it was thanks to that reaction that Se-Hoon finally noticed some odd things—his throat was unusually dry and Luize looked too comfortable for someone who had just been in an intense battle.

Could it be…

“Nurse!!!!!”

Just as he noticed something was wrong, Luize frantically pressed the call bell, summoning the medical staff.

Not even a moment had passed when the medical staff rushed in as if it were code blue.[1] Then, upon confirming that Se-Hoon had regained consciousness, they urgently took him for a thorough examination.

It was only after all the examinations were completed that he was able to confirm his suspicions. Professor An Jung-Wan’s words left him shocked.

“…I was unconscious for a week?”

Not just one or two days, but an entire week.

Seeing the disbelief on Se-Hoon’s face, Jung-Wan nodded.

“Yes. To be honest, it’s a miracle you regained consciousness after only a week, given how severe your condition was.”

With the number of tattered organs, blood vessels, and mana circuits Se-Hoon had, anyone else would have died. Se-Hoon had only survived because blood and oxygen were somehow being supplied normally throughout his body even though his heart was badly damaged.

“I assume it’s due to the effects of your… unique skill. Is that correct?”

“Yes… I believe so.”

The memory of his soul was imprinted on his blood through Soul Honing, meaning that even with damaged organs, his blood could instinctively move on its own to keep his body functioning.

It wasn’t too surprising to Se-Hoon, who had experienced it once before the regression, but it made him question something he thought was a fact.

I thought there was an issue with my soul, which should mean that my blood shouldn’t be able to move instinctively like this… what exactly happened, then?

Could it be that the problem with his soul only affected his usage of the Demonic Blood Art?

As he tried to speculate the reason, Jung-Wan continued his explanation, “We’ve done all the treatments we can. Now you just need to take medication and undergo rehabilitation until you’re fully recovered. Given your fast recovery rate, it should take around three—”

Sensing something off, Se-Hoon quickly interrupted him.

“Three weeks, right?”

“Three months. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“…”

The thought of three months of hospitalization made Se-Hoon’s mind reel, but then he quickly regained his composure.

Well, there’s no actual need to wait that long.

Since he had made significant contributions this time, he would probably receive a good elixir as a reward. With it, he could overhaul his entire body as he had done before.

It wasn’t a difficult task for him, so he just nodded along.

“I understand.”

“Just to be clear, don’t you dare think about recklessly taking any elixirs this time. You could really die, you know.”

“Of course. I won’t do anything dangerous.”

“…”

Jung-Wan wasn’t very convinced by his words, but without any evidence, all he could do was sigh.

“Many people are worried about you, so please be careful.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

“I’ll be going, then. Visitors will be restricted for a few days, so get plenty of rest.”

When Jung-Wan stood up to leave, Se-Hoon suddenly remembered something he wanted to ask.

“How is Professor Kim In-Cheol?”

He remembered he had provided emergency treatment, but In-Cheol’s condition was still severe.

Jung-Wan hesitated before replying, “His life is not in any danger, but both of his hands have almost been completely disabled. While he can manage daily life chores, he won’t be able to forge anymore so he stepped down from his position as lead professor.”

“…I see. Thank you for letting me know.”

Se-Hoon leaned back in his bed after watching Jung-Wan leave.

So, it did come to that.

Having lost everything as a blacksmith, and with the Fire Heaven Greatsword he was desperately trying to restore completely destroyed, what would In-Cheol’s life be like from now on?

Knock knock.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Recognizing it was In-Cheol outside, Se-Hoon stared at the door in surprise for a moment.

Regaining his composure, he responded, “You may come in.”

Creak-

Pushing the door open, In-Cheol, wearing gloves on both hands, entered the room carrying a fruit basket.

“You must be disoriented after just waking up. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“No, it’s fine. Please, have a seat.”

Walking over to Se-Hoon’s bed, In-Cheol lifted the fruit basket in his left hand to place it on the table.

“Ah…”

Thud-

But the basket fell helplessly to the floor, scattering the fruit everywhere. Seeing that, In-Cheol widened his eyes for a moment before making a bitter smile.

“Sorry about that. My hands aren’t what they used to be.”

He bent down to pick up the fallen fruits. Though he struggled to properly grasp them with his hands, he silently continued until he picked them all up and placed the basket on the table.

“Whew… so, how’s your body holding up?”

“It’s… not fine, but I should recover soon. There were no fatal injuries, thankfully.”

In-Cheol smiled at his answer.

“That’s a relief…”

In-Cheol had been worried his past would end up haunting his disciple, but fortunately, it seemed that wouldn’t be the case. It gave him genuine relief.

With his biggest worry out of the way, In-Cheol hesitated for a moment before finally deciding on something.

“The reason I came to see you today is… I have something to tell you,” In-Cheol said with a serious expression.

“…”

“I used to be part of the group that attacked you during this incident and will likely target you in the future. They go by the name of—”

“No.”

Before In-Cheol could start his story, Se-Hoon cut him off firmly.

“If it’s about the people behind this incident, you don’t need to tell me.”

“Huh? But this concerns your safety as well…”

“I may lack experience, but I’m not that oblivious. I know that an organization bold enough to attack Babel wouldn’t leave loose ends regarding its members.”

In the memories that Se-Hoon had seen, In-Cheol was a highly regarded researcher of Offering. He was likely bound by numerous restrictions, having participated in various projects.

From how he’s trying to explain things to me, it seems he has a way around those restrictions… but if he tells me everything he knows about Offering now, he’ll definitely die.

Had he known nothing about Offering, Se-Hoon might have just listened quietly out of respect for In-Cheol’s intentions. However, since he had regressed, Se-Hoon actually knew them better than In-Cheol in some respects. Thus, he decisively cut off the futile conversation before it could start.

“From this incident, I’ve gathered a rough idea of what kind of enemies they are and how they might approach. So there’s no need for you to risk your life to inform me.”

“…”

In-Cheol bit his lip at Se-Hoon’s refusal, seemingly dissatisfied despite surviving the ordeal. The action made Se-Hoon sigh inwardly.

They’re all the same…

It was clear what choices In-Cheol would make if he were sent back like this. Deciding to deal with it, Se-Hoon organized his thoughts.

He abruptly said, “I heard you stepped down from your position as lead professor.”

“…I did. It’s a position far beyond my capabilities now. I’ve also found a trustworthy replacement, so there’s no need to worry—”

“Then what do you plan to do now?”

Startled by Se-Hoon’s question, In-Cheol hesitated and then muttered, “From now on…”

Those three words were devoid of life, a testament to having never considered it before.

Seeing In-Cheol struggle to come up with a response, acting like he had missed the right timing to end something important, Se-Hoon serenely asked, “Did you come here, prepared to die?”

“…”

In-Cheol neither confirmed nor denied it. If he had been like a dried-up tree when they first met, his current appearance was like the ashes of that tree after it had burned away, just specks that would disappear into the sky.

Sighing again, Se-Hoon stared directly at In-Cheol.

“Then just die.”

1. code blue = universal hospital code for a medical emergency ☜