A Regressor's Bucket List Chapter 105

It was quite obvious, but it took a considerable amount of time to deal with all the Mutants swarming from every direction.

It wasn't just one or two, nor was it dozens.

His Howling gathered a number that was at least in the hundreds, and at most, over a thousand, all at once.

Killing such a number of Mutants, and using only ‘physical methods’ at that, was not something that could be done in a short period.

Moreover, since the numbers were gathered based on a certain range, there was always bound to be at least one or two strong Mutants mixed in, despite the variance.

Considering all these other factors, heading straight for the source of the sound was not a very good option.

Therefore, I hid myself first.

Once he let out a Howling, he had a habit of staying in the same spot for a while anyway, and it was impossible to rush over and have a conversation while slaughtering Mutants, so this was the rational choice.

Pasususu—

About thirty minutes passed like that.

The presence of the Mutants that had swarmed by like a pack of dogs could no longer be felt, and the cries of the Mutants that had been audible nearby now echoed faintly in the distance.

Only then did I pull my body out from its hiding place between the mountain rocks and slowly take a step forward.

“…Time to go.”

Jeobeok, jeobeok—

Although quite some time had passed, finding the source of the sound itself was not that difficult.

The unique, fishy stench of Mutant corpses wafted from afar, and since the battle wasn't over yet, the clamorous cries of the Mutants and a chilling cutting sound continued to reveal the location from a distance.

Chalbak—

As I got closer, a cruel scene began to unfold.

Un-drained blood pooled deeply, splashing against my ankles, and what (used to be) Mutant Monsters were scattered everywhere in pieces of flesh and gore.

The state of the corpses was quite gruesome, even considering this was the Darkest Dungeon.

If one had to classify them, the wounds were torn-apart forms that could be called ‘lacerations.’

But they left marks closer to being crushed than sliced, as if to prove that the weapon used to cut them was extremely dull.

“…I came to the right place.”

The unique wounds, which looked as if they had been crushed as they were cut.

They made me realize that I had indeed come to the right place.

Such crude wounds, along with the ‘Howling,’ were one of the eccentricities that characterized the veteran of the Darkest Dungeon, the ‘Mad Dog.’

Chalbak— Chalbak—

“……”

It goes without saying, but making a loud noise in a dungeon overflowing with Mutants was no different from a suicidal act.

Especially a ‘Howling’ like his, which deliberately targeted a frequency that Mutants reacted to keenly, was without a doubt an act of madness.

It wasn't just about gathering the nearby Mutants.

The Mutants that responded to his Howling reacted more violently, and the sound created by their movements would inevitably call in more Mutants from an even wider area.

In other words, the Howling didn't just summon Mutants within the range of the sound; it created a chain reaction that gathered all the Mutants in the vicinity.

Even those who had accumulated enough years to adapt to the Darkest Dungeon would avoid unplanned encounters with Mutants.

Considering this act gathered all Mutants within a range without any distinction, there was no word other than ‘madness’ to define this Howling.

…Well, it was only natural for a mad dog to do mad things in the first place.

Pwak—!

Bbudeudeudeuk—

Soeeek—

The closer I walked, the more the chilling sounds originating from the battle were amplified.

The sound of something bursting.

The sound of bones being crushed.

A metallic screech that was neither a cry nor a scream.

The blatant sounds of slaughter repeated, enough for anyone to know that a one-sided massacre was taking place.

Chwaaak—

As I approached the source of the sounds, the blood that had been submerging my ankles rose higher, the rising tide of blood reaching my calves.

And.

Around the time the surging blood tickled my calves.

I arrived before him.

‘……’

Scattered pieces of Mutant flesh floated atop the blood.

In the center of it all, upon a mountain of corpses, stood a single mad dog, holding a Mutant that was already half-dead.

There were traces of countless lives, but he was the only one still living.

Predator and prey.

That clear-cut contrast further enhanced his presence.

A chilling, red Ocular Glow.

A silver mane, thoroughly stained with blood.

Numerous scars carved all over his body.

And an unmistakably familiar tail.

Seueuk—

His gaze fell upon me.

My subconscious combat senses, detecting that I had encountered a formidable powerhouse, reflexively raised my tension as they always did.

Pishik—

“…Long time no see.”

Ironically, what I felt in that moment was ‘gladness.’

* * *

To the greeting I offered with a raised hand in my gladness, his response was curt and firm.

“…Get lost. If you don't want to die.”

It was a cliché line a third-rate villain in a novel might spew, but the weight of words always depends on the speaker.

Pook—

At the summit of the corpse mountain piled high above the bloody puddle, the mad dog’s words, uttered as he plunged his claws into the last Mutant’s neck, were more than enough to evoke a sense of dread.

Scowling, the man pressed a hand to his head, then twisted and pulled out his claws.

He turned his head toward me and said once more.

“…I believe I told you to get lost.”

I couldn't be certain, but from his perspective, the current situation must have seemed somewhat baffling.

In the beginning, there might have been a few who approached to spectate his mad antics, but by now, the name ‘Mad Dog’ was famous even in this underground prison.

After his name gained some notoriety, everyone else would have run away with their tails between their legs at the mere sound of a ‘Howling,’ let alone defy him.

There probably hadn't been anyone who brazenly struck up a conversation with him like I did for quite some time.

Moreover, there would have been even fewer who didn't leave after hearing his voice directly.

…Well, of course.

Whether it had been a while or not, from his perspective, I was hardly a welcome guest.

Cheolpeok—

The Mutant in his hand fell onto the pool of blood, and now he turned his body completely, about to approach me.

I cut off Tom’s movement.

“Outside—.”

“……?”

I threw out a slightly different topic.

“Looks like it’s rising. The full moon.”

“……!!!”

Chalbak—

His approaching footsteps stopped after a single step, and the hand that had been on his head slowly came down.

Then, with an aura thick with menace, he asked.

“You… how do you know that?”

Shrug—

“Well, I…”

“……”

“Know a thing or two. The partner I work with outside is also a Beastkin.”

As I casually shrugged, selling Jerry out(?), he pressed a hand to his head again and dismissed my words.

“…Don't be ridiculous. Moon Madness isn't something one can know just by being a Beastkin.”

“……”

“You… you didn't just follow the sound, did you.”

Then, with the characteristic guttural growl of the Canine Tribe, he warned me.

“…If you don't want to die, you'd better explain it to my satisfaction. Why you know that, and just how much you know.”

Moon Madness.

Just as he said, that term wasn't something just any Beastkin knew.

No, to be more precise, it was something they ‘shouldn't’ know.

Although it varied in degree, the symptoms that could be defined as ‘Moon Madness’ were an abnormal condition experienced only by a select few within the Canine Tribe, including him, and was kept strictly confidential.

Furthermore.

…It was also the only word that could explain everything from the ‘Howling’ that the ‘Mad Dog’ periodically performed to the current slaughter of Mutants.

“…Moon Madness.”

As he wished, I began to explain what I knew about Moon Madness, taking a step toward him with each sentence.

“A peculiar symptom commonly experienced by the numerous Canine Tribe, who make up the largest proportion of the Beastkin. It refers to a unique mana reaction where the body's senses are enhanced on the day of the full moon, when Mana Entropy is at its lowest.”

Chalbak—

“In ancient times, it was a symptom practically synonymous with the Canine Tribe, but for most modern Canine Tribe members whose blood has been diluted, the symptoms are minimal or non-existent. Thus, it is rarely mentioned, and few even within the Beastkin know of its existence.”

“……”

“However, in the case of the pure-blood Silver Wolf Tribe, the Lycan Clan, who have maintained the blood of their ancient ancestors and are not mixed-blood Canine Tribe, the symptoms of Moon Madness become extremely potent.”

Chalbak—

“The degree of sensory enhancement experienced by the Lycan Clan is at least tenfold, and its maximum is said to be undefined.”

Was it because he was already using most of his mental energy to endure the pain? His thoughts and feelings were laid bare.

His breathing, which had grown heavier, told me his wariness toward me had intensified.

And his eyes betrayed an unconcealable ‘bewilderment.’

Bewilderment.

…It was only natural.

He might have guessed I was different from ordinary people just from the fact that I knew about Moon Madness.

But he probably never imagined the name of the ‘Lycan’ Clan would come straight from my mouth.

…In the first place, the existence of the Lycan Clan was known only to a very small minority even within the Beastkin.

Their existence was considered a secret both externally and internally, and even in battle, they blended in, passing themselves off as just slightly exceptional members of the Canine Tribe.

“Furthermore, in the rare case of the Lycan Clan, the phenomenon of sensory enhancement can intervene in the realm of memory. A Silver Wolf Tribe Beastkin in this situation will complain of extreme agony when Moon Madness manifests.”

“……”

“The reason is simple.”

Chalbak—

“Because bad memories and scars engraved on the body react to the Moon Madness, causing extreme headaches and phantom pains throughout the body.”

My steps, taken one by one, had now reached the foot of the mountain of corpses he had built.

I took the final step and said.

“…Is that a sufficient answer?”

Chalbak—

His red Ocular Glow glared at me as if it would tear me to shreds this very instant.

Given the sheer gap in our power, meeting that chilling gaze was quite overwhelming for me in my current state.

But I managed to look straight up into his eyes.

And.

I took out the weapon I had specially prepared to deal with him, the ‘Mad Dog.’

Seueuk—

“…Well, I'm sure you have a lot of questions right now.”

“……”

“But for now, let’s light the urgent fire first, then talk.”

I mean.

『…Can you give me one?』

Siiik—

“A brand new one.”

…The cigar I had gone through the trouble of procuring, giving up an inventory slot just for him.