A Regressor's Bucket List Chapter 108

My fighting style, which minimizes defense and evasion while insisting on an all-out offense, stems from the vampire Trait I got from that bastard, Jerry.

The vampire's Trait, which exhibits overwhelming regenerative power during battle, effectively nullified the incapacitated state brought on by fatal wounds.

Accordingly, the core and foundation of my combat was to take hits that should normally be avoided and steal the opponent's timing.

However, until I met Tom in my past life.

This fighting style remained incomplete.

I was certainly aware of the advantages the vampire Trait brought in battle, but in the words of the Old Man in the Bamboo Hat, I was the only one who used such a 'bizarre' fighting style.

Even within the Suicide Squad, where all the so-called best of the best were gathered, there was no one who employed a fighting style worth referencing.

I tried my best to imitate the things the Old Man in the Bamboo Hat taught me, calling them fighting techniques, but I couldn't shake off the awkwardness, like wearing ill-fitting clothes.

It was only after I entered the Darkest Dungeon as part of the vanguard and met him that my methods reached a level where they could be called a 'fighting style'.

『Evasion?』

Pfft-

『That's cowardly shit only the weak do.』

His Baktusul, which ignored all attacks with his body's overwhelming performance while striking the opponent's weak points first, was the reference I had been searching so desperately for.

It was only after referencing his fighting that I was able to crudely sketch out the completed form of my own incomplete fighting style.

The pinnacle of practicality.

Castrating all the pain and fear that a human would inevitably have, and unless it was an attack that made it impossible to continue fighting, simply taking it with the body and attacking.

The ultimate fighting style, combining the Vampire's blood-sucking Trait and the Lycan's Baktusul.

‘…….’

...Ironically, that was one of my biggest regrets from my past life.

After finishing my time with the vanguard, when the Suicide Squad began to set up its base in earnest.

He had gone into the deeper parts of the dungeon, into unexplored, unknown territory, and no longer appeared before my eyes.

He disappeared suddenly one day without so much as a goodbye, so I had no idea why he went so deep.

I could only confirm that he was alive by the sound of his Howling, which I could hear from a distance from time to time.

Moreover, at the time, I was in an urgent situation, facing daily battles with the Demon King, so I couldn't afford to spare the time to search the depths of the dungeon for him.

And so, in the end, having lost my only reference, I refined my incomplete techniques by fumbling through the faint images left in my head.

I was able to complete my own fighting method without him.

...That's why I wanted to check it even more.

How much his Baktusul, which I coveted, and the fighting style I arrived at on my own, aligned.

And when under equal conditions.

Whose was superior.

***

『What's that?』

『Just think of it as me coming here to learn how to fight well.』

『…….』

『That Beastkin friend, my partner on the outside, recommended you.』

From Thomas’s perspective, it was bound to be bewildering.

The Darkest Dungeon wasn't some back alley in the neighborhood, yet here was someone saying he'd come on a recommendation to learn how to fight.

No, before even discussing the request itself.

In the first place, this was not a place a criminal could enter just because they wanted to.

It was for cases where the Order judged that simply isolating someone from society was insufficient for their sentence.

For those who had committed a serious crime, but whose heart was judged to be 'rehabilitatable', thus avoiding the Death Penalty.

It was a matter of falling perfectly on that ambiguous borderline that could vary greatly depending on the judge's personal discretion.

To put it simply, it was in the realm of 'luck'.

Even Tom himself hadn't known he would end up here when he turned himself in.

Unless a legal expert with precise knowledge of the Order's precedents was involved, it was a domain that an individual could not judge or fathom.

...The funny thing was that U-jin's words seemed completely genuine.

『Deal?』

『…….』

Having wandered all over the continent and met countless people after the dissolution of the Beastkin Nation, Thomas was confident in at least one ability: telling when someone was lying.

And even in his judgment, U-jin's words, ‘I came to learn how to fight,’ seemed to be heartfelt, without a hint of falsehood.

It was an utterly bewildering request.

But in the end, Tom had no choice but to accept U-jin's request.

The reason was simple.

One of the most important traits that defined Tom L. Hardist was a 'personality that couldn't stand being indebted'.

And the very act of U-jin giving up one of his own inventory slots to bring a 'cigar' into this place, isolated from society, felt like a huge debt of gratitude to him.

Indeed, for him, who had suffered considerable pain, being liberated from the agony of Moonlight Syndrome was no light matter.

Due to his rough personality, he hadn't experienced many situations where he would owe someone a debt of gratitude.

Still, because of that stubborn nature of his that dictated he must repay any debt he incurred, the option of refusal was closed to Tom Hardist.

“…First, let me see.”

In response to U-jin's wish to learn combat, the first thing Tom said was that he would watch U-jin fight himself.

It had been a long time since he had personally taught anyone, but he had once been active in the Beastkin's combat unit, renowned among his juniors as the best role model and leader.

He might not know about educational methodologies, but when it came to grasping practical combat and giving advice, it was a field he was confident in.

‘…….’

Well, of course.

Tom himself couldn't guarantee whether that advice would actually be effective.

The Lycan Clan's Baktusul was quite rough and direct, and it was often too harsh to be applied to a normal human.

Unless one had considerable courage or was born with a gifted physique, his advice could be more poison than help.

The reason Tom said he needed to see for himself ultimately stemmed from this context.

If U-jin had the Mana of a 1-Star Hero, he would have accumulated some combat data and roughly established his own fighting form.

He intended to watch that and see whether effective advice was possible or not.

Since it was a matter of repaying a debt of gratitude, he couldn't just do a half-assed job.

Gurgle-

The mutant chosen for U-jin's fight was a mutant Magical Beast nicknamed the Sweeper

It was one of the low-level mutant Magical Beasts that moved in search of corpses strewn about the dungeon, and it was the most common Magical Beast to be found inside.

It was Tom's choice, assuming U-jin's level was 1-Star.

Well…….

To be honest, it was hard to say it wasn't a decision of convenience in terms of movement, as it was the first Magical Beast to approach after smelling blood once a massacre occurred from his Howling.

“Going in?”

“…Remember what I said. If I think it's too much, I'll intervene myself.”

Nod-

Saying he would watch the hunt himself, Tom added one condition.

It was to not use any techniques like skills or magic.

Of course, he didn't forbid the use of Mana itself.

However, he didn't know what skills U-jin might have, and it was difficult to ascertain a fighting style through such one-off flukes, so he demanded a raw fight.

Although it could be dangerous under unfamiliar conditions, it was easier to accurately grasp the combat that way.

Besides, he could just intervene in an emergency anyway, so it wasn't much of a risk factor.

...Well, anyway.

Since this was the Darkest Dungeon, there was a high probability that he couldn't use them even if he wanted to.

Kweeeeeek-!

The Sweeper, which had been rummaging through a corpse, spotted U-jin and charged, letting out a grotesque scream.

The first attack naturally came from the Sweeper.

Opening its maw in four directions, the Sweeper extended its tentacle-like tongue and attacked U-jin with its sharp tip.

In that moment, Tom naturally thought.

‘…He'll dodge.’

That U-jin would dodge the attack.

Perhaps because it was the opening attack of the battle, the Sweeper's strike formed a rather exquisite angle for a trash mob.

Should you call it an attack with a good 'cost-benefit ratio'?

If the attack succeeded, it could inflict a fatal wound, and even if it failed, the opponent's evasive action itself would create a favorable distance for the Sweeper.

Of course, the attack itself wasn't difficult to dodge.

It was a linear thrusting attack, so all one had to do was move out of the point of impact, whether horizontally or vertically.

However, the position U-jin would be in after dodging wouldn't be very advantageous in combat, so it would be a slightly unpleasant choice.

Nevertheless, Tom thought.

That 'logically', U-jin had no choice but to dodge that attack.

...However.

U-jin's subsequent response completely defied Tom's expectations.

Puk-

“……!!!”

With the gruesome sound of flesh being pierced, the Sweeper's tentacle penetrated U-jin's body.

However, the pierced area was not near the abdomen where a 'fatal wound' was predicted, but was passing through U-jin's outstretched left palm.

Before the attack could even reach its destination, U-jin had extended his left hand and twisted its trajectory.

Grip-

With his palm pierced, U-jin, his expression unchanged, pulled on the tentacle, instantly closing the once-distant gap.

And then, he struck the head of the Sweeper, which he had pulled into his effective striking range in one go, with his right hand.

Crunch-

With a gruesome sound, the Sweeper's head was crushed.

...A battle so brief it felt lacking.

Unable to even scream, the Sweeper's body went limp.

U-jin, with a nonchalant expression, pulled the tentacle out of his left hand.

“……”

A battle that ended in a single exchange.

In truth, it was too short a time to ascertain a fighting style.

If you were to count the time, the battle was over in less than five seconds.

...But for Tom, that fleeting moment was enough.

Pfft-

There was no need to see more.

The left hand sacrificed without hesitation to divert the tentacle's trajectory, and the rough, artless blow delivered in a single motion.

Just seeing those two things was enough to get a measure of U-jin.

‘What a crazy bastard.’

Tom suddenly became curious about who this 'partner' on the outside who had recommended him to U-jin was.

He had no clue who among the Beastkin could have survived until now and known about Moonlight Syndrome.

And from the looks of it, they had sent a guy with the right kind of rotten disposition.

He had seemed like an ordinary human, so Tom had wondered if there was anything to teach, but for a guy like this, there was plenty he could teach.

It was clear.

Rather than elegant curves embroidered in various colors, it was about drawing a single straight line where it was absolutely necessary.

“You bastard…….”

That was.

“…You're our kind.”

Thomas. L. Hardist.

The traditional specialty that he and his clan prided themselves on.

It was nothing less than the essence of ‘Beastkin Baktusul’.