There Is No Hidden Villain in This Novel Chapter 100

For reference, the footsteps I thought might be Ryuseong’s were not Ryuseong’s. In exchange for shortening my breath once, I succeeded in getting behind the approaching figure. Which means…

“…Young Master?”

It means I was able to pin down Ivan Karpin, who was approaching me, and hold his life in my hands. Oh ho, standing superior to a named-class raider is quite a pleasant feeling. Honestly, I didn’t think there was much point in catching someone who wasn’t even a healer, but since I was able to suppress an approaching threat, it seems like a gain.

Thinking so, I pressed the blood-made chainsaw I had placed against his neck even closer.

“Ivan Karpin. It’s been a while. By the way, I can’t tell if you’re a monster or a person, so would you mind dying?”

“…!”

This is the Inner World. And a terrible dungeon that creates monsters based on the intruder’s trauma at that. In the end, what the raider must ultimately confront and fight in this dungeon is the raider themselves. Therefore, what I’m trying to say is that no matter how lifelike the Ivan Karpin in front of me is, I shouldn’t foolishly believe he’s real.

In short, the Inner World is a fucking place that makes you distrust your own perception of people, which means it didn’t matter whether this Ivan Karpin was real or fake. All I had to do in this situation was simply calculate whether it was more beneficial to keep him alive or kill him.

‘Since he’s a commander, it might be better to keep him alive, but.’

Right now, I feel like I want to vent my anger.

As I was silently contemplating, Ivan Karpin suddenly let out a hollow laugh. I was dumbfounded. This punk, he’s so out of it he can’t even recognize he’s in a life-threatening situation. If you’re not laughing because I’m handsome, consider it a demerit.

“Did you get a hole in your lung or something?”

“You yourself seem to have gone through something tremendous, Young Master.”

I asked if he’d lost his mind to be grading life and death, and the response I got back was that my own state was just as bad.

I was about to slap a demerit on him for the annoying remark, but on second thought, Ivan Karpin had the fresh and pristine look of someone who had just entered the dungeon, whereas I, right now… I guess I can’t help being treated like a weak little brat in this state.

Feeling chagrined, I swung the chainsaw I had aimed at his neck towards the rear to change the subject. Kieeeeeek! Ivan Karpin was startled and looked back. He would see the sight of a group of monsters that had been silently creeping up until just a moment ago being annihilated in one fell swoop. The sight of a swarm of electric centipedes writhing and getting hacked to pieces, sparks flying, pzzzt-pzzzt, is truly, unbelievably grotesque. Ivan Karpin seems to dislike grotesque things too, as his body is trembling as if in a seizure.

Of course, since this is a system where the intruders’ traumas mass-produce the real enemies, there’s no point in getting rid of small fry a hundred times over.

“As expected of de Millang… no, this is something more than that…”

The restrained Ivan Karpin seems to be lost in other thoughts.

‘For a commander, he’s quite out of it.’

Wouldn’t it be a fantastic life to die a heroic death to help this body vent its anger? Hmm. It certainly seems so. I contemplated what BGM would be good to play as a farewell for ending the life story of a cold-blooded elite soldier.

Since I have to congratulate him on his swift reincarnation and new life, it would be best to play “Happy Birthday to You,” right?

It was when I, my head dizzy from not even being able to stop the bleeding while trying to restrain this guy, was having such warm thoughts.

“I understand that you’re suspicious of whether I’m real or fake. But at this rate, you’ll die from blood loss first. Let’s do this. You keep a spell on my neck. And I’ll treat you. Then you’ll be able to trust me. I don’t know who put you in that state, but…”

The end of his sentence had a strangely probing tone, but the word “treatment” piqued my interest. An elite soldier, not a transmigrator, wouldn’t say something as foolish as pouring a potion first without a doctor, so this meant he had some sort of plan…

“Do you have medical equipment?”

“A certain amount is included in my military gear. More importantly, it would be better if you told me who did this.”

Having caught my interest, Ivan Karpin gestured with his eyes as if to ask me to release him. With a killing spell wrapped around his neck, I thought it would be nice to let this guy live if only he knew how to keep his mouth shut, and lamenting, I began to check if he had medical thread and a needle. Ivan Karpin, unaware of what was in my head, didn’t run away from me and, shaking his numb hands, took something out of his bag and laid it out.

“…This is a dungeon, is it not? If there’s someone who could be a threat to you, they’d be dangerous inside the dungeon as well, so it would be troublesome if I brought an enemy due to a misjudgment…”

“There’s no need for such worries.”

“Why is that?”

I thought that if medical tools hadn’t come out of Ivan Karpin’s ridiculously large military pack, it would have been difficult for him to remain in this world, and I silently closed my eyes.

“Because I killed him.”

Yes. Dick Baskerville is dead. Not me, but Ryuseong killed him. So there’s no new person to be added to my nightmares… Ah, the feeling of calmly sinking was bittersweet. But Ivan Karpin, who looked like a well-carved stone block, didn’t let me sink into sentimentality.

“Don’t clench your jaw.”

“What, ugh!”

“I told you not to clench.”

After that followed a treatment process that would make you think, “Could you really do that if you were me!” The story of Guan Yu enduring with grit and guts suddenly felt absurd. Back then, I was so full of poison I didn’t even know it hurt, but now, as if I had become a human, my limbs ached to the point of driving me crazy.

Ryuseong molded me with love, and I became a person. That’s why I know pain. I finally learned to feel pain. Then, must a person be in pain to be a person? If a person could be a person without being in pain, I would not have been broken.

I would not have thought of myself as a cloth doll, even while wearing the outer shell of a person.

“Listen to me when I say it hurts!”

“I’m treating you, so please bear with it for a little… Don’t choke me. If I stitch it wrong, it’s your loss…”

In Greek mythology, Prometheus and his brother, under Zeus’s command, molded humans out of clay. Mixing in the story from the Bible, one could say that all those clay dolls were swept away during Noah’s Ark.

And after that? When the surviving prophet threw stones behind his back, those stones became humans.

I’ve made a mess of it by mixing and matching as I please, but that’s how myths are. Humans are beings created by gods, so there can be a failure or two among them. That’s me. I failed. I lost as a human. I failed to possess dignity. I just flutter like a cloth doll sewn from rags. It’s the same now.

“I’ve finished stitching. The bones are set too. …But who on earth turned you into such a rag?”

Ivan Karpin persistently asks. Did he want to gather information that badly?

I couldn’t be bothered to respond further, so I just told him carelessly.

“Dick Baskerville.”

“…Why would that man do that to you.”

“I guess he didn’t like being called a pussy. More importantly, focus.”

I glanced at him, who was trembling with shock, as if he were amusing, and tapped my thigh to get his attention, then pointed to the winding road across from us. It was because the sound of very small footsteps had begun to come from that direction.

I don’t know what’s coming, but based on the information gathered by my hearing, it’s probably the body of a child. The form it has is small and gives off a light nuance. It’s as light as the wind, but at the same time, it possesses a sharpness. Strange, isn’t it? It’s a gait that subtly hints at the agility of someone trained as an assassin and an unconcealed aggression.

I don’t know what kind of bastard it is, but it looks like I’ll have to have another proper fight.

‘Just when I was feeling better, I’m going to get torn up again.’

Not killing Ivan Karpin seems to have been a success. Without this bastard, I probably would have died from excessive blood loss. I decided to be proud of myself for picking up a great healer—though he seems to be a soldier, not that I care.

Anyway, the footsteps are gradually getting faster. Did it sense our presence? Where the hell is that son of a bitch Ryuseong and what is he doing? What the hell is my cheat key doing not protecting me! A sudden surge of anger wells up, but I have to prepare for battle. Ivan Karpin is also gripping his weapon and gulping down his saliva.

“…Be careful. I may not have the leeway to protect you…”

Ivan Karpin seemed to say some nonsense, but I willingly ignored him and focused on the opponent. The approaching aura is strangely intense. It’s not strange because something weak is pretending to be strong, but it feels strange because it’s so blatant. It’s like a child with a power of 100 stepping on the full accelerator with a power of 100. When you fight, you’re supposed to moderately hide your strength, then burst it out at a moment’s notice, controlling the intensity to manage your stamina.

‘As if it’s a person who has never learned such a thing…’

And then, patter, patter!

The light and nimble footsteps finally rushed into the clearing where we were, and just by its presence, my eyes bulged wide, and before I, who had woven killing magic at my fingertips, could even react, it drew out a pale blue light and tore me apart.

Shreeeak!

[system] A new wound has been updated!

Should I display a status window like this?

But my ‘enemy’ in front of me right now is tormenting me too much to escape reality with funny thoughts.

“Get a hold of yourself! Cassis de Millang!”

I see the ‘enemy’. Short, with small hands, small feet, and big, round eyes, a tiny child is our ‘enemy’.

I knew that ‘enemy’.

“…Mr. Ryuseong?”

The trauma of Ryuseong from his childhood… created by the Inner World, stood before my eyes like a person.

—Even though I can’t possibly kill him.