The Regressor Can Make Them All
Chapter 392

Chapter 392

“Centering the division of the body around the heart... so this was already in progress.... Reconstructing the body by merging microvascular structures with mana circuits...? Well, I’ve conceptualized it...! Creating a micro-refinement environment using the body? This is... ugh...”

Meirin’s mutters were endless as she read through the documents detailing the fundamentals of Soul Honing. Between her lips, an unlit cigarette was constantly chewed on.

As both admiration and frustration simultaneously escaped her over and over, Se-Hoon just silently observed from the side.

This is a first...

The Meirin he remembered was an insufferable master, someone utterly full of herself. Although frankly, she had the talent and skill to justify such arrogance. After all, she was the one who elevated Blood Arts—an outdated and scorned discipline—into a new frontier.

She was a master blacksmith whose techniques placed her among the top three of the world.

And from how simply being her apprentice had put him through countless kidnappings, assassination attempts, and threats, it couldn't be clearer that she was an undisputed genius.

Yet that genius was now breaking apart over someone else’s technique, to the point of feeling defeated. Of course, it was ironic, given that the person who had developed the technique was none other than her future self.

But that truth was known only to Se-Hoon, a regressor.

Maybe I should’ve just told her I made this technique.

He briefly lamented the missed opportunity—one of the few chances he had to make his self-absorbed master jealous—before quickly discarding the thought. Though he was a regressor, he had no qualms about outmaneuvering others for his benefit. However, he had no desire to steal the achievements of his one and only master.

Well... not like it matters at this point, anyway.

With a twisted expression, Meirin had begun chain-smoking while she tried to absorb the technique Se-Hoon showed.

She painted such an unusual sight that Se-Hoon couldn’t help but smirk to himself as he patiently waited.

“Whew...”

Eventually, after a long while, Meirin let out a long sigh filled with tangled emotions and finally lifted her gaze from the documents.

“This will work.”

“Really?”

Meirin immediately narrowed her eyes and glared.

“Are you seriously going to keep pretending?”

“Huh?”

“If you knew something like this existed, then why the whole act over whether to entrust me with the research? You’ve been playing me like a damn fool.”

Still glaring, Meirin bit down on her cigarette, clearly annoyed.

Wait... does she think I tested this already? Se-Hoon made an awkward expression.

But upon considering how the technique fit so perfectly and was so complete that it was enough to make her feel crushed, Se-Hoon realized it was natural Meirin had assumed he had planned it all from the start.

Not wanting to let that misunderstanding spiral, Se-Hoon hurried to clarify.

“I think there’s been some misunders—”

“Save it. You already had your fun, and now you’re even going to make excuses?”

Meirin then mumbled out what sounded like an insult but felt oddly like a compliment before casually incinerating the Fundamentals of Soul Honing document in her hands.

She had sworn to keep it a secret and already memorized every word, so she no longer needed it.

“Anyway, using it as it is now is impossible. It’s too complex, and you won’t be able to handle the aftermath with your weakened body.”

“Then we’ll need to simplify it.”

“Exactly.”

Nodding, Meirin extended her palm and opened a thin slit in her skin. From it, blood flowed out like a living organism.

“To control the power of Anatta, we need a backup of the synesthetic mindscape. That means there’s no need to overcomplicate the division of our body. Actually... we can just expand it outward from the heart itself.”

Swish-

As she constructed the design in her mind, the blood in her palm began squirming, materializing her thoughts in real time. For a while, the form kept changing, as if she were refining the concept on the fly, until at last, a basic framework took shape.

Thump-

Centered around the heart, the microvascular structures and mana circuits reshaped to create another heart that overlapped the original.

Examining it, Se-Hoon’s eyes gradually widened.

This is... incredible.

By applying Soul Honing, she had created an artificial heart that replicated its functions, allowing the Demonic Blood Art to infuse the soul into the bloodstream. That blood was then stored within the actual heart, acting as a failsafe—which would trigger a self-restoration process if the power of Anatta ever spiraled out of control.

To think she could integrate Soul Honing and Demonic Blood Art like this so quickly.... She really is my master.

He had only taught her the fundamentals, yet she had already envisioned an application beyond his imagination.

Se-Hoon couldn’t help but marvel at her brilliance, a sight which made Meirin smirk.

“Well? This should do the trick, right?”

She designed it so that she could keep the artificial heart intact; it could learn any technique it was tasked to learn.

Feeling accomplished, Meirin savored the small victory of putting the arrogant brat in his place for once.

But it didn’t last long, as that very brat spoke again. “The connection here, where it fuses with the aorta—it’s slightly risky.” Se-Hoon pointed to one part of the framework. “It’s manageable for people like us who trained in Blood Arts, but regular people might suffer severe consequences from it.”

“Hmm. That’s true.”

“Also, this design relies too much on the user’s innate talent. This could lead to critical failures in emergencies, so we should reinforce the structure.”

“Hmm...”

“Oh, and this part here is unnecessarily complex. We should simplify...”

“...”

Meirin had thought she’d made it as simple as possible, but the gap between their differing perspectives was too vast. There were still so many aspects she had overlooked.

Thankfully, there was Se-Hoon, who refined her framework without hesitation by trimming away the excess components. No matter how great a technique was, it was meaningless if people couldn’t learn it.

And the end result was now less efficient but far more balanced.

“It should now be more susceptible to new information. What do you think, Professor?”

“...You really are something else.” It was a straightforward compliment.

Grinning, Se-Hoon examined the finished framework once again.

This should solve the issue with Li Kenxie.

He still needed to pass it down to Li Fei, but Li Kenxie would instantly recognize it as proof that he could effectively utilize the power of Anatta. And that meant one less variable to worry about during the Silent Volcano subjugation—Ludwig could become a threat.

With that done, there was just one more matter to resolve.

“Now, the next issue is—”

But before he could finish his sentence, Meirin clenched her fist, shattering the framework.

Swish-

The blood seeped back into her palm.

Then, when their eyes met, she spoke calmly. “If the power of Anatta can cleanse even a tangled soul... refining its control should make it even safer.”

Flicking her spent cigarette into the brazier, she pulled out a fresh one.

“But tell me—do you think you can still call that modified soul yours?”

“...”

“Your soul is already too tangled. Even if you erase the visible traces, you’ll never be able to purify it entirely.”

A soul that had already been merged with another could never be whole again—something he had been warned about countless times while studying Soul Honing.

That was why Se-Hoon knew it better than anyone.

“Keep using the power of Anatta just as you have. Digging any deeper... might cost you your life.”

“...That’s how you see it?”

“That’s how it is.”

Seeing her speak with absolute certainty, Se-Hoon let out a slow breath.

“I see. I suppose I have no choice.”

If he made another—the wrong choice—he could end up losing himself completely, twisting his synesthetic mindscape beyond recognition.

How could he possibly risk that?

I already knew this... so why am I still hesitating?

Was he simply trapped in his own thoughts? Or... was there something else—something he had yet to realize?

Se-Hoon fell into deep contemplation, and Meirin silently observed him for a bit before standing up.

“Well, don’t take my words too seriously.”

“Huh?”

“This is my answer. There’s no guarantee that it’s the same as yours. We walk different paths, after all.”

Hearing her words, Se-Hoon's expression turned peculiar. They brought back a vague recollection of something similar he had heard before.

“You’re too soft to follow in my footsteps.... If you keep mimicking me halfheartedly, you’ll just end up dying a death even more pathetic than mine. Go find your own path. That... is my final piece of advice.”

A bloody scene from his past overlapped with the sight of the present-day Meirin. The memory was one he had no desire to recall, making his brow furrow involuntarily.

“Hmm?”

Noticing the change in his expression, Meirin tilted her head, puzzled.

And upon realizing his mistake due to that, Se-Hoon quickly corrected himself. “Ahem. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He still didn’t fully understand what it all meant, but if he had heard the same words twice, there had to be a reason.

“...”

Meirin watched him quietly. And a moment later, she broke into a small smirk. “I thought you were just a precocious child... but I guess you still have some innocence left in you.”

“What does that—”

“If you’ve decided on using it, then use it to the very end. Don’t try to discard it halfway.”

Taking a step to be beside Se-Hoon, Meirin placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll handle the control. Take the rest of the day off.” Her voice was gentler than before.

Tap, tap.

With a light pat on his shoulder, Meirin left the workshop. Watching her retreating figure, Se-Hoon wore a complicated expression.

Perhaps it was because he had recalled old memories, but for a brief second, he had felt as though he had reunited with his master once again.

...Maybe I really have gone soft.

Letting out a bitter chuckle, he got up from his seat and pulled out his phone to check the time.

Four o’clock... What an awkward time.

With barely any time before dinner, he pondered what to do.

Vrrr-

And at that very moment, his phone vibrated—perfectly timed. A message popped up on the screen.

Luize: Are you still not done?

“Ah.”

He had delayed their meeting for an entire week, using the power of Anatta research and finding her gift as an excuse.

So, with a wry smile, he typed out a quick reply: Let’s meet up today.

***

Instead of using teleportation, Se-Hoon took the light rail to a park near Luize’s dormitory. When he arrived, he spotted her already seated on a bench.

She was dressed in a thick hoodie and jeans—thin attire for winter, yet, as expected of a high-ranked hero, she showed no signs of being cold.

Heroes really aren’t affected by the seasons, huh?

With that trivial thought, he lightly jogged toward her.

“Hmm?”

For some reason, Luize—who had clearly seen him approach from how her eyes had widened while she was staring idly into the distance—sharply turned her head away.

Even when he stopped right in front of her, she stubbornly kept her gaze elsewhere, refusing to acknowledge him. Confused, Se-Hoon pondered over her behavior and realized not long later.

She’s still mad at me, huh.

There was no real meaning to it by now, but apologizing properly and moving on was always better than pretending nothing had happened.

So, with that in mind, Se-Hoon looked straight at her.

“I was wrong last time. I won’t do it again, so please forgive me just this once.”

At his sincere apology, Luize sneaked a glance at him and crossed her arms with a sulky expression.

“Are you really just going to apologize with just words?”

Seeing that there was no anger left in her, only barely concealed anticipation, Se-Hoon chuckled and pulled out the gift he had prepared from his void pocket.

One was a cherry box marked with the Jason Orchard logo and another box containing custom refinement tools. Though the wrapping concealed the contents from Luize, it was clear they were presents.

“I wanted to make up for it in some way... but if it feels like too much, you don’t have to accept it—”

“Ahem!”

Luize stopped him with a loud cough before finally turning her head toward him.

“You put in the effort, so I suppose I should accept it. Hand it over.” Her tone was calm, almost nonchalant. “Thanks.”

Taking the gifts from Se-Hoon, Luize curiously examined their weight.

One of these is probably cherries. But what’s this?

The second box was far heavier than the cherry box.

There’s no way he just threw in blacksmithing tools because he likes them... I’m actually kind of excited to see what it is.

More than the gift’s value, she was curious to see how well he knew her preferences. As she eyed the presents with intrigue, she suddenly noticed Se-Hoon looking at her with amusement.

“Ahem. So, what have you been up to all this time? I heard from Amir that you got into trouble again.” She changed the topic.

“Ah, well... It’s nothing serious.”

“Still, I want to hear about it. Spill.”

Patting the seat next to her, Luize gestured for him to sit. And at that sight, Se-Hoon knew he had no choice but to comply and began recounting the recent events that he’d gone through.

“A Harbinger of Destruction, huh.... Was it stronger than the last one you fought?”

“Not really. It was in a bad condition and my abilities countered it pretty hard.”

“Hmm... Is there even an opponent that doesn’t have a bad matchup against you?”

The conversation wasn’t particularly long, but with casual chatting mixed in, time passed quickly. And before they knew it, the sky had darkened and the park’s streetlights flickered on, casting a soft glow over the area.

Both of them glanced up at the same time—and then their gazes naturally met.

A sudden silence hung in the air. It was the kind of awkward, unexpected pause where neither party knew what to say next.

Uncomfortable, Se-Hoon was considering how to break it when an idea sparked.

“That ring I gave you.”

Luize’s eyes shifted to the ring on her left ring finger, the Ascension Ring.

“Do you wear it often?”

“Huh? Well... yeah, I guess. It’s comfortable, and it’s proving to be pretty useful, too.” Luize fiddled with the ring, her voice carrying a hint of awkwardness.

Slightly puzzled by her reaction, Se-Hoon asked the next question that came to mind. “Then do you use Akasha often, too?”

“...Akasha?”

“Yeah. The encyclopedia thing.”

Realizing he was talking about the ability created by sealing the Seeker’s right arm into the Ascension Ring—which, despite its limitations, was a valuable tool for her growth since it granted access to all the knowledge that the Seeker had—Luize’s lips pursed together.

“Well, I do use it frequently. Why?”

“It’s just... I never expected you to rely on it so much. I thought you’d use it only when necessary.”

Se-Hoon had thought Luize would only occasionally use Akasha like a magical book with a built-in search function. After all, it was a power tied to Dawn, the group that had deeply mistreated her in the past.

Even he had been reluctant to use it at first for that very reason.

She used it so naturally during her spar with Aria, without hesitation.

Not only did she use it to supplement her spellcasting, but she even employed complex techniques that enforced specific rules on her opponents with it. There was not a trace of the reluctance she once had.

What changed? What shift in her mindset allowed her to wield Akasha so freely?

“I was wondering what you were going to say.... Haaa, honestly.”

With an exasperated sigh, Luize began poking him hard on the side.

“Hey. Do you think I’m the same as before? I’ve trained like hell and fought plenty of battles since then, and instead of praising me, you’re doubting me?”

“Ugh... No, that’s not what I meant...”

Seeing her finger pointing at his side, as if she was going to jab it in him like a dagger, Se-Hoon flinched.

And at that sight, Luize gave his shoulder a firm slap instead.

“If you ask whether I hate using it, then... yeah, I probably still do,” she matter-of-factly said.

“Then—”

“But I’m not as afraid of it as I used to be. I’ve gotten a lot stronger since then.”

Her aversion to Akasha wasn’t just because of its association with Dawn. In truth, it was mainly because the power of the Seeker which was stored inside had terrified her. She continually recalled the ominous power that had seeped from the corpse of the Seeker, fearing what such an unknown force might do to her and what consequences it could bring.

So she refrained from using it—at least until she was strong enough to wield it properly.

“Being cautious isn’t a bad thing. But being too cautious is just a waste. Wasn’t that always your philosophy?”

“...You’re right.”

Even if someone possessed immense power, if they let fear restrain them from using it, it was no better than having no power at all.

It was a wake-up call for Se-Hoon, finally allowing him to realize why he had been trying to control the power of Anatta and why he had questioned Akasha in the first place.

I was indecisive.

It all stemmed from the existence of the two conflicting forces within him—Soul Honing and Blood Arts—which paralyzed him before a crossroads. He was unsure of which to prioritize, uncertain of what was the right path.

But now I know.

The fog in his mind lifted. The frustration that had weighed on him vanished.

With renewed clarity, Se-Hoon stood up.

“Something urgent just came up. I’ll be heading out first.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever it is, just buy me dinner when you’re done.”

Luize waved him off casually, smirking.

Staring down at her, Se-Hoon paused, wondering how he could properly express his gratitude.

And after thinking it over, he spoke.

“You know... I was thinking about it.”

“Hmm?”

“You really are the best.”

Before he regressed, and even now. Whenever it truly mattered, it wasn’t Sung-Ha or Amir who had been the most reliable—it was Luize, every time.

No matter how many times he had thought about it, he reached that same conclusion. So he meant it, every last word.

Luize froze.

“Me—ohw?!”

She opened her mouth to respond but ended up biting her tongue, letting out a strange noise instead.

And at the sight of her fluster, Se-Hoon chuckled.

“I'll get in touch with you once I've finished.”

With a wave goodbye, he teleported away before she could recover.

Now, he was back in his dormitory, where he took a deep breath. His earlier excitement had faded, and he began using the power of Boundaries to stabilize the conflicting mana within his body.

And then—

“Heh... Is it finally my turn?”

The echo of the self-assured voice in his mind was proof that the Seeker had awoken once more.