Everyone Else is a Regressor

Chapter 59

WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator/Editor: Ryuu

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◈ Everyone Else is a Regressor (59)

157.

That was the number of werewolves the Jahil Party had hunted in just an hour while accompanying Gin.

Of course, the level of those werewolves was only Rare-grade, and since the party was composed of skilled members capable of assisting KiJun from the start, they did not struggle or get tired from the hunt.

In fact, quite the opposite.

"Everyone, any injuries..."

"None."

"Thank you for your concern, but I am fine, Lora."

"I'm unscathed."

The Priest, trying to fulfill her role as a healer, pitifully found that the party members were unscathed despite fighting the werewolves.

Just when Lora was giving a slightly resentful look at In, who was confidently showing his arm to prove he was unhurt.

"Ah, I think I'm injured!"

"Really? Show me your wound!"

It was strange how the party members seemed excited to hear someone was injured.

As KiJun watched this with a thought, Armillca, the only one who claimed to be injured, pouted her lips toward Lora.

"I think I hurt my lip. If Lo――ra gives me a kiss, it will heal clea――"

"Kyaa?!"

Fortunately, before KiJun could intervene, In quickly shielded Lora behind him.

He gave Armillca a stern look and warned her.

"If you do that again, I'll report it to the guild."

"It's just a light joke..."

"Unwanted physical contact without consent is sexual harassment, a crime."

As Armillca grumbled, KiJun cut her off decisively, making the party members suddenly focus on him.

"What?"

"It's unexpected. KiJun is that considerate."

"You know how to speak like that too, Leader."

"...You guys are quite rude."

Remembering the words of Conan, the muscular barbarian warrior created by American novelist Robert E. Howard, KiJun wondered if he should become a barbarian himself to teach these 'civilized' people manners.

'Conan, the great and wise Barbarian, grant me the wisdom and courage to discipline these civilized people...'

However, before KiJun's sacred Moonlight Blood Fang could "educate" the party, Gin, walking ahead, spoke in a small voice.

"We're almost there. It’s just a bit further to my village. Just follow me."

"Oh, but how did that village stay safe―― Ah."

Herbert, who couldn't resist asking questions, let out an exclamation of amazement.

The fog cleared only along the path Gin walked on.

"A special barrier..."

"Hurry up and follow. It'll be troublesome if they see us."

"What happens if we stray off the path?"

"You'll wander in the fog and fall into traps. This relic isn't originally where we lived; it's full of notoriously dangerous traps. Be careful."

Armillca, who tried to step into the fog, withdrew her foot after hearing this.

Lora, frightened by Gin's words, quietly closed the gap with KiJun and clung to the edge of his cloak.

"Lo――ra, come to my side."

"No."

"Ah, rejected..."

Armillca, genuinely dejected, pulled out another chocolate. Herbert, incredulous, commented.

"Ever heard of karma?"

"I know about unwanted advice."

"Then you know about misdirected anger?"

"I could kill you, you know..."

Ignoring their bickering, the party finally reached the village.

Trees densely surrounded the area, blocking out most moonlight, and the fog enveloped the area, further filtering the moonlight.

In that small, darkness-dominated village, people who looked like normal humans came out to greet Gin, rejoicing at his safe return.

"You’re safe, Gin! ...But who are these people?"

"They helped me. They’ve agreed to assist in our research to become human..."

"What?!"

A woman listening to Gin's words slapped his back in shock.

Despite looking human, she seemed to be a werewolf with formidable strength, judging by the powerful sound of her slaps.

"Ow, ow! Ma'am!"

"Bringing outsiders and talking about that! What if they work for Vrykolakas! Ugh, you're as naive as your father――"

"Vrykolakas' boss, Chort, is a bastard!"

Suddenly, Armillca shouted out.

At the familiar name, KiJun tilted his head, and while everyone froze, Armillca continued nonchalantly.

"That bastard claiming to be the 'Son of Death' has never even properly seen Chernobog, a liar. He boasts of immortality like Koschei but is actually a dumb werewolf who can't even handle simple magic!"

"Stop it..."

"Do you want more? Your leader, Quinodon? I've never even heard of that name! It’s not given by his master but self-proclaimed, right? Names self-given can only hold one's own power. He's just an idiot playing king in this narrow prison!"

Armillca's rant, reminiscent of a diss rap, left KiJun realizing the names were from Slavic mythology.

Chort symbolized 'evil of fate,' Chernobog was the 'Dark God' representing darkness, destruction, death, and Koschei, the immortal character in Russian folklore, famous for hiding his soul in a needle's eye, a precursor to the concept of a Lich storing its soul in a phylactery.

'It's all Slavic folklore, from Vrykolakas to Kudlak. It's interesting how Earth's cultures and legends are spoken of as real in another world...'

Maybe Earth had connections with other worlds even before a million heroes were summoned to the tutorial.

Convinced by his thoughts, KiJun nodded, and Armillca, narrowing her eyes, asked the villagers.

"Is this not enough? Can't you identify friend or foe yet?"

"No, it's fine. We trust you..."

The villagers, still fearful of 'Chort' despite having escaped from Vrykolakas, hurriedly ushered them inside, sweat beading on their foreheads.

Armillca quickly earned their trust, proving she wasn’t lying about being an expert on werewolves. She then gave a calm V-sign to the party.

The party silently responded with a thumbs-up.

"As for our research, we've only seen a bit of effect with Gin..."

"We've encountered quite a few targeting him on our way here."

This time, it was KiJun who stepped forward.

"We can protect him. If there's anything you need for the research, we can provide it. In return, we want detailed information about this relic."

"And the research content, too!"

Armillca added, and after some hesitation, the villagers agreed to their proposal.

"But we're only helping a little. Most of the research is being conducted by Gin's parents. His father... he's the expert."

"We can quickly compile and deliver detailed information about the relic."

"Ayayaya... Then, everyone, let me guide you to our house!"

Despite rubbing his sore back from being hit, Gin led them to the largest house in the small village, as expected.

"Gin!"

A young woman, looking almost the same age as Gin, dropped a giant axe she was holding and greeted them. The axe thudded heavily into the ground, and KiJun noted the blade’s white shine, indicating it was likely silver-coated.

KiJun quietly asked Herbert, "Do werewolves usually use silver?"

"Carrying it alone would cause internal injuries. It affects their healing abilities... It must be painful."

So, it was practically a cursed weapon, carried out of deep mistrust and hostility towards their own kind.

"Mom!"

As expected, the young-looking villagers turned out to be Gin's family, but not his siblings. Reunited with his mother, Gin hurriedly pulled the silver axe from the ground and threw it far away.

"Don’t push yourself, Mom. You can’t even withstand silver."

"As long as I can strike down an enemy before I die, it’s fine."

After comforting Gin, his mother turned to KiJun's party with a wary expression.

"So... who are you people?"

"I didn’t expect to explain twice."

"Ah, let me do it!"

Gin explained everything that had happened since meeting the Jahil Party, and his mother bowed in gratitude but remained cautious.

"Why are you interested in our research progress, which only helps werewolves withstand silver? It won’t be of much help. And to offer help in our research... it's hard to believe outsiders suddenly appearing and saying such things."

"It's because it's profitable―― Uh!"

"You’re misunderstanding, ma’am. This research could benefit our future and significantly aid the entire Light Faction. Let me explain simply."

Herbert, gently pushing aside Armillca, explained their perspective.

"Think about when you leave this relic."

"Yes? That would be..."

"Being Vrykolakas, you won’t be accepted by the Light Faction. But the records of your research could serve as evidence to persuade them."

Herbert, mixing realism with his fiery speech, continued earnestly.

"But if the research progresses, not only your son but other innocent victims of Vrykolakas could become human again. It would be a monumental achievement celebrated by the entire Light Faction. You'd become heroes."

Herbert’s unexpected fervor, considering his skepticism at first, even made KiJun, who had been thinking vaguely about completing a quest, feel like a fool.

"It’s just a fantasy. Of course, we started the research with that goal, but it ended up causing more pain for my son…"

"Without trying, you won’t know. Your efforts are already remarkable, ma’am. I believe they will bear even greater fruit."

As Herbert respectfully acknowledged her, the woman blushed and coughed awkwardly.

KiJun glanced at Herbert, wondering...

Regardless of KiJun's suspicions, Herbert's sincere persuasion worked, and the woman eventually nodded.

"The thought of going outside again... I hadn't even dreamt of it."

Looking at Gin, she firmly said, "I want to show him the bright sky, the sun. If there’s even a slight chance... please help us, everyone."

"Mom..."

"What are you making that face for?"

"Ow!"

"Come in, everyone."

After playfully hitting her son, she warmly invited the party inside.

Upon entering, they saw a large man seated at the living room table, meticulously loading a triple-barrel shotgun with thick slugs, each thicker than a thumb. The barrels were designed without rifling but with rifled bullets for range and accuracy. The bullet heads gleamed white, likely silver-coated, and the weapon's structure differed from what KiJun knew.

―Of course, it's different, Contractor. Regardless of which civilization you encountered this in, this is an independent magical artifact developed in the Reta continent.

‘Ah, something like a magic bomb.’

―Right! I felt familiar energy from it. It’s probably made by that dark mage too.

‘Directly?’

―Directly.

Gin's father, and perhaps his mother too, might have deep connections with dark mages.

Understanding the depth of knowledge and magical aptitude required, KiJun realized why significant research capable of changing the history of werewolves in this relic was possible.

“Hmm…”

“Ah, a magic shotgun... an excellent tool for conversation.”

While KiJun marveled at the weapon and magically crafted ammunition, Armillca and Herbert, who had been excited about seeing the research data, suddenly quieted down.

"Dear, Gin has returned safely!"

“Hmm?”

The woman's voice broke the icy atmosphere. The man, careful not to injure himself while working, looked up to see Gin and put down the shotgun to embrace him.

"I was worried, Gin."

"Ouch, Dad! Ouch! Sorry!"

After a few strong pats on the back, the man's display of affection made KiJun wonder if Gin’s regenerative ability could heal the impact.

"Please come this way, everyone."

Following the woman inside, KiJun caught a glimpse of a bitter smile on Herbert's lips and asked reflexively, "Are you okay?"

"Are you concerned? Thank you, but I'm fine."

Herbert brushed off the bitter smile and whispered to KiJun, making sure no one else heard.

"Remember my words, KiJun. A possibility is just that, a possibility. Don't get too attached to these people. We’re here to conquer this relic."

He passionately persuaded the woman moments before, but now his voice was cold.

KiJun sensed Herbert might have his own complexities unknown to him.

"Herbert, you..."

"Yes, KiJun? Is there something?"

Facing Herbert, who seemed as if the previous conversation never happened, KiJun swallowed the question that almost escaped his lips.

What did Herbert know before entering this relic?

Depending on that, KiJun might need to change his attitude towards him.

But for some reason, he couldn’t ask now.

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