The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

Chapter 102

Thud!

The thrown blade pierced through the air like a dagger and embedded itself into the man’s thigh in an instant. He lost his mobility.

“Ugh!”

He had no options left. It was awkward to bring the potion in his hand to his mouth, and just as difficult to pull the blade out of his thigh.

Ian was already right in front of him.

He should have forced himself to dodge, no matter the cost. Or maybe he should have blocked.

No, it had come to this because he did neither.

The only thing left for him to do was swing the black blade in his hand. But even that didn’t reach Ian.

The blade cut through nothing but empty air, its tip pointing skyward. At that moment, Ian’s sacred sword drew a graceful arc, severing the man’s wrist.

“Argh!”

The man let out a scream, staggering backward while clutching his right forearm.

The potion in his left hand rolled onto the ground, but that wasn’t what mattered now.

From the smooth, severed surface of his wrist, dark red blood gushed out. He tried to stop the bleeding quickly, but it was of little use.

“Damn it…!”

The man’s eyes, which had been burning with resolve, began to lose their focus and turn blank.

As the man, now resigned to his fate, closed his eyes, Ian prepared to finish him off.

Just then, Bellen, who had been silently observing from behind, interrupted.

“Wait a moment. I have something to ask him.”

“Go ahead.”

In his current state, the man couldn’t escape anyway. The blade was still lodged in his thigh.

Ian maintained his stance, ready to strike at any moment, while Bellen, as if telling him it wasn’t necessary, extended her hand.

A magic circle appeared beneath the man’s feet, and five chains shot out from it, firmly binding him.

The man tried moving his arms slightly, but they didn’t budge an inch.

“There’s nothing I can do now, even without this kind of restraint.”

“Eat this.”

Bellen pulled something out of a pouch at her waist and abruptly shoved it into the man’s mouth.

Naturally, he tried to spit out the unidentified object that had entered his mouth, but that was all he could do.

“Ugh!?”

At Bellen’s gesture, his jaw began to move stiffly, as if forced by an unseen power.

Ian noticed the man’s head was being restrained by Bellen’s magic.

In the end, the man chewed and swallowed whatever had been forced into his mouth.

“Cough! What did you make me eat?”

“Even if you try to vomit, it’s useless. The moment it passed your throat, it would have already been absorbed. Just think of it as a medicine to help you relax.”

Shortly after, the man’s eyes grew drowsy, and his body went limp as he collapsed to the ground.

Ian wondered for a moment if this was a ploy to make him drop his guard, but Bellen’s reaction suggested otherwise.

Instead, she approached the man, squatted down to his eye level, and asked,

“What’s your name?”

“…Hah, D17.”

The man let out a hollow laugh but involuntarily answered her question. There was no sign of resistance or defiance.

“Good. I’ll call you Dee for convenience. Dee, what are you?”

“…You know already. I’m a Cleaner from Mathis. I lead the D-grade team.”

“Then you must know who I am.”

“How would I know who the Supervisor is?”

“Look at me. Try to recall who I am.”

The man lifted his head weakly and stared at the woman before him for a long time. He muttered about her hair and eye color, mentioned her facial features, and eventually wore an expression of realization.

“…Bellen Cordelia. Impossible. You’re not the Supervisor?”

“Judging by the fact that you recognize me, it seems you were sent here on a specific mission?”

“…I did receive orders. They told me to deliver a message to you.”

“Just a message?”

“Yes. If you don’t want to truly sever ties with Mathis, avoid external activities. They said they can target you at any time.”

“So, you were waiting for me in this forest because of that.”

Bellen’s gaze showed she had no doubt the man was telling the truth.

It seemed she fully trusted the effects of the drug she had administered earlier.

She couldn’t help but wonder for a moment how it compared to the confession-inducing cigarette that Decarte, the conductor of the armored train Pankresia, used. Not that she planned to test it on herself.

“Then why did you kill your comrades? Was it because of that cursed weapon?”

“Cursed weapon? Ah, you like using complicated words. Just call it a cursed sword. Yes, I obtained it by chance during my last mission. It’s a rare artifact that enhances the user’s physical abilities overall just by holding it. The side effect is… it makes you honest about your desires. But it’s fine. It’s manageable.”

As the man spoke, his complexion began to grow paler.

His severed hand continued to bleed, and his failure to properly stem the bleeding was taking its toll.

If left like this, he would die.

Bellen seemed aware of this as well, but she showed no intention of treating him. The man continued speaking.

“It happened earlier, too. While holding the black blade, everything suddenly irritated me. Why am I doing this here? How much longer do I have to endure this? It felt like a good time to just kill everyone and change my identity. So I acted on it. It was the perfect opportunity. Even if the team disappeared, they wouldn’t suspect me but rather you.”

“Then why did you stay behind?”

“Misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to stay. I had no choice. If I wanted to go into hiding, I couldn’t let them find out I was a traitor. I chased after the ones who ran.”

His voice grew fainter, as if even speaking required immense effort.

“Ah… it’s strange. At some point, my memories just became blurry. I think I enjoyed seeing blood… I don’t know anymore.”

It wasn’t called a cursed weapon for no reason. That thing had taken control of his mind.

That’s why even the Pantheon had dedicated teams to retrieve such cursed weapons. They often caused significant problems when left unchecked.

“One last question. Earlier, you mentioned there’s a Mathis research facility here. Do you know where it is? Even a rough idea is fine.”

“…I don’t know. But I’ve heard it’s… somewhere at the edge of the forest…”

The man trailed off and slumped forward. His faint breathing, which had continued, now stopped entirely. He was dead.

“The edge of the forest, huh? Shall we check it out?”

“…….”

Ian let out a sigh instead of responding to Bellen’s cheerful question.

“What? You don’t want to?”

“Why would I? We don’t even know if a research facility exists, and now you want us to search for it in this vast forest, just the two of us.”

“Yes, just the two of us.”

“And when we find it, I’m guessing you’ll want to head inside, won’t you?”

Bellen released the magic binding the man and smiled.

“You’ve already figured me out. If we find it, we have to go in. It’s suspicious.”

“The security will probably be as tight as a fortress, and you want to go inside?”

“That’s precisely why we need to go in. The mere fact that the research lab is located in such a remote place is proof enough that they have something to hide. They’re likely conducting experiments they couldn’t dare attempt near or within the city. If we find evidence of that, bringing down Mathis might not be impossible.”

Her voice dripped with personal spite—Bellen clearly held a grudge against Mathis.

“You’ll need to provide additional compensation for this.”

“Of course. Would you like this as well?”

Bellen produced the black blade, now complete with its sheath.

“…No, thank you.”

—

Three days had passed since they began wandering through this ominous forest—longer than they had anticipated. While the gathering mission had been completed without issue, Bellen was wholly committed to locating Mathis’s research lab.

Though Ian often felt the urge to suggest they give up and return, the promise of additional compensation kept him quiet. Expanding his senses as far as he could brought no significant discoveries, leaving him doubtful of their success. Yet eventually, they stumbled upon what appeared to be a faint trail of hoofprints and wheel tracks, likely several days old.

Following the tracks led to a lone structure resembling a warehouse. It seemed to be protected by magic, but no guards or personnel were stationed nearby.

Inside, recently moved supplies were piled high, some still in their carts. Empty carts stood in another corner. Just as Ian turned to leave, Bellen called out.

“Ian, feel free to grab anything you might need.”

She rummaged through the supplies, checking their contents with an almost methodical efficiency. Ian, watching her silently, couldn’t help but recall her first impression—a serene and enigmatic figure in a magical shop. Yet out here, she proved diligent and resourceful when the situation called for it.

Most of the supplies were unfamiliar vials and reagents, so Ian settled for some emergency rations.

They pressed on. Having come this far, Ian was somewhat more motivated, confident they were close to finding the research lab. However, the trail abruptly disappeared, and all signs of movement ceased.

“There’s nothing here,” Bellen said, smiling faintly.

Ian couldn’t shake the feeling she was testing him this entire time. Even now, her demeanor remained nonchalant. Ahead lay the same monotonous stretch of forest they’d seen for days—nothing out of the ordinary at first glance. But Ian could sense an unnatural flow of magic in the air.

He frowned at Bellen’s feigned ignorance.

“Do you not see the enchantments? Diminished perception, sensory interference, spatial distortion—they’re all layered here.”

“Oh, you’re sharper than I thought,” Bellen said, her smile widening. “Not bad for someone your age. It takes quite a bit of experience to recognize all that. Well then, since we’ve come this far, shall we take a look inside?”

“I thought as much. And once inside, what’s your plan? Extracting information without being discovered is virtually impossible.”

With no clear objectives beyond a vague suspicion, Ian couldn’t help but approach this cautiously. They didn’t even know what lay beyond the barrier or the situation inside. Moreover, he disliked being embroiled in the feud between the pharmaceutical giants Cordelia and Mathis. Politics wasn’t something he wanted to get involved in.

“Oh, worried about recognition?” Bellen teased, pulling a wooden mask from her belongings. “I prepared something for situations like this.”

She handed him the mask.

“Wear it. It’ll make it much harder for anyone to recognize you.”

“This? Are you serious?”

The mask emitted a faint magical aura, likely an artifact. Without overthinking, Ian placed it on his face. It adhered seamlessly to his skin, leaving his lower jaw free, allowing for easy speech and even consumption of potions if needed. His voice was also altered.

He removed his insignia from his collar for extra precaution. It might even be better to avoid using Bane of Evil.

“If you need it, take this too.”

Bellen offered the black blade. Despite her earlier suggestion to leave it behind, she’d carried it all this way, evidently intending to use it now. It raised suspicions—had she known all along that the lab was here?

Ian reached out to take it, but Bellen suddenly pulled it back.

“Ah, let me use it once first.”

“…Use it?”

“Yes.”

Screech.

Bellen unsheathed the black blade, enveloping its edge in magic. Then, with a sharp swing, she brought it down on the barrier.

CRACKLE!

———-