The Start of Regression with SSS+ Grade Perks!

It took about three days to realize it. That this was the world inside a novel.

The title was definitely... something like Hero Academy whatever...

A title that wasn't particularly flashy. In a market where everything pulled aggro just to hook readers, this bland, almost plain name had drawn me in with a curious "Is it any good?" That was how it started.

Fuck, you moron. Instead of reading some brainless harem power fantasy in a male protagonist world, why'd you have to go and die like this?

The reason it took three days was because I needed time to dredge through my memories and inspect every single brain cell. I'd read plenty of novels before—not just one or two. In this scene, even the protagonist's name gets muddled between Ryuk, Locke, or Lark. How the hell was I supposed to pinpoint an unfamiliar place name right away?

Anyway, was it an impressive novel? Not really.

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"The protagonist, bestowed with the fate of a hero, grows at the academy, gathers companions, and severs the Demon Lord's head." Something like that drawn-out epic. The ending was fuzzy, but I remembered it wrapping up after chopping off that head. If anything stood out, it was that none of the novel's three divine artifacts—the regression wheel or whatever—were used. I'd enjoyed it enough to give it 4.5 stars.

Anyone with half a brain would've caught on by now. At its core, this novel was a classic hero tale. Our esteemed hero has to vanquish evil and bring peace to the world.

"...So why the fuck are you in this state?"

I glanced to the side. There was a woman with beautiful platinum hair, as if woven from gold and silver. Her skin was flawless, glowing like white jade—impossible to believe she'd endured two years of harsh journeys and adventures. If she were alive, she'd have drawn endless suitors and flirtations from men.

If she were alive, that is.

My gaze dropped. Her severed neck spilled warm red blood, soaking the ground. Those eyes, once filled with resolve against a mighty foe, now stared blankly into faded darkness.

This ain't good.

It wasn't good. Really fucking wasn't. Not just that this bitch had croaked, but the sheer determination still etched in her eyes made it worse.

Any living thing shows some change at the moment of death. Monster, villain, demon—I've killed hundreds, and that's the judgment from experience. Even if they die clinging to conviction, there's always a flicker of change.

Except for one case.

Dying without even reacting.

Those who go to the afterlife without realizing they're dead keep their living expression frozen. Meaning this idiot woman—Erina Yulis, the novel's protagonist and hero of the era—got her head lopped off without even registering it.

"...Fuck."

Curses swirled in my mouth. Amid them, screams and roars that could tear the air echoed from all around.

"Yurika! Barrier! Pro... Kyaaak!"

"Wien! On your left... Gahk!"

Lives snuffed out one by one. Vast waves of mana and holy power faded into cold silence.

The central presence advanced silently. Each step radiated the dignity and terror of an absolute being. Trembling eyelids lifted my gaze.

A hulking figure in pitch-black armor. Its massive sword, drenched in blood, exuded the grim aura of an executioner's blade. The crowning horror: its head—or what passed for one—was a swirling void of darkness. No face. Just a white speck whirlpooling like a black hole, devouring all.

Definitely... number two, right?

The final boss was the Demon Lord, but the main story had about six others. Loyal minions empowered by the Demon Lord's might—the infamous Six Demon Reverse Heavens, rulers of each continent. And this faceless fucker was second in strength.

Not even the Demon Lord, but wiped out by a mere number two...

The entire party, led by Hero Erina, annihilated by this headless prick. The academy's elites, who overcame trials and tribulations, hadn't even put up a fight.

Where the hell did it all go wrong?

By rights, they shouldn't have struggled against this guy. Our hero should've half-bisected it with the holy sword forged by the goddess herself. And I, reluctantly dragged into the fray, wouldn't have needed to cross to the afterlife.

Tch...

I shook off the regrets and grudges. What good was blaming the dead now? As the last one standing, I owed it at least one hit.

"What're you staring at?"

"……"

No eyes, yet I felt its gaze. It hadn't swung yet—probably intrigued. Hell, I'd be too.

Still alive with my lower half blown off...

Guts spilled like noodles from my severed waist. Blood pooled from barely attached organs. At least my abilities numbed the pain—small mercy.

...You listening?

A girlish yet oddly mature voice replied.

▶Affirmative. I am listening.

I want to draw up a contract.

▶Agreed. State your price.

...My remaining lifespan. All knowledge and experience accumulated so far. And finally, memories, emotions... everything.

▶Agreed. State your desire.

Just one moment—even a single second. Lend me the power to kill that bastard.

▶Impossible. The power gap is too vast. Even everything wouldn't suffice.

Fuck, rigid to the end...

We've made how many contracts? Don't state the obvious. This is my last ride—give me everything you can, no holds barred.

▶...Agreed. Contract sealed.

I closed my eyes at the voice. My life of frantic struggle since possessing this body flashed by like a panorama. Everything I'd scraped together rolling in the gutter shattered like irreparable glass.

Aging too, huh.

My body, kept at peak through relentless training, withered. Skin shriveled on my hands, exposing skeletal bones. Flesh and mind crumbled.

In the end, after devouring it all greedily, I received a colossal power I'd never touched before.

"...!!!"

Instinct screamed danger. The thing that had gazed quietly now erupted with ferocious aura. It raised its massive sword high. Violet energy coiled around the blade, slamming down like lightning.

A deafening explosion followed.

But I was already gone.

It looked up. Our eyes met—mine soaring on arm strength alone.

The greatsword swung again. Staring at the incoming blade, I judged.

Dodge, and no chance.

No lower body meant no second shot. Even if I died pointless, I had to tank it and land the finisher.

I raised my left arm. Flesh tore, bones ground—the shock rippled through my frail body. The blade pierced to my heart.

"...!"

It flinched. Probably shocked the sword hadn't advanced further. I'd concentrated all mana in my heart beforehand. Mana reinforcement perfected through brutal beatings from my master. Iron body forged in countless battles—enough to halt it for an instant.

I steadied my breath. Forced oxygen into dying lungs. Power and will flowed to my right arm.

Tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of repetitions. The stance flowed like water. A silent horizontal slash, but it held my entire life's essence.

Black flash. I felt the cut and slice clearly. Wrenched my wrist. Twisted the clean strike to mangle and crush the stump.

"...!!!!!!!!"

A world-shaking scream erupted. Incomprehensible howls as it retreated, clutching its "face," dropping the sword. Unidentifiable liquid oozed between fingers.

...Blood? So it is alive.

Seemed less a monster from another realm.

Thud.

Body spent, I crumpled pathetically. Eyes grew heavy.

This is death, huh.

Last words of thanks due.

...You did good. Sorry. My incompetence dragged you down too.

▶Negative. It was a pleasure serving Master. I sincerely hope to serve again.

...Empty words...

A chuckle escaped inwardly as shadow loomed. It had recovered, sword raised. Sensing the descending blade, I closed my eyes peacefully.

Neck bones shattered. Dirt filled my mouth.

Thus, my world went dark.

I recalled the moment of initial possession. Still couldn't wrap my head around it. I hadn't trashed it in comments, nor ass-kissed the author excessively. Never begged to be sent into the novel.

No aggro bait like debating sword principles or "friction acceleration boosts power, fight me."

Just read to the end, gave it 4.5/10, and logged off. Next thing, I woke replaced by some stranger in another world.

Still ridiculous.

First year, I thrashed to return home. Not homesickness—just guilt for vanishing without a goodbye to my parents. By year two, clean surrender. Survival demanded focus; reality was brutal.

Thus, as extra Choi Siwoo—unmentioned in canon, laden with shady backstory—I lived 20 years and died.

Finishing thoughts, I scanned the room. Dingy bed sheets, stale air in a cramped studio apartment.

No doubt.

...Where I first opened my eyes...

Rummaging pockets, a cracked-screen phone. Power on—date displayed.

20 years ago...

Confirmed. Back in time.

One week until Prunel Academy entrance ceremony.

I massaged my temples. Remembered something about points and Round 2 starting.

Plopped on the bed.

"Kay. Kay, you there?"

▶Affirmative. I am listening.

Sigh of relief at the girl's voice. Feared she might be gone—glad she stuck.

"What the fuck is this?"

▶Explanation: Master has unlocked the true power of unique ability Arhat's Contract Document by meeting the death condition. Accordingly, I now have full functionality.

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"...Functionality?"

▶Everything Master deserved but lacked qualification for. I grant it now.

Words ended; a dazzling impact filled the room.

"...How many points is this shit?"

Lifetime max was under 150k; now nearly 600k.

"With this... I can snag growth arts, even constitutions?"

Maybe even decent ones like Faith of the Super Warrior.

▶Surprised? This is just the start.

"What?"

Staring blankly, burning pain seared my right shoulder.

"Kuh!"

Yanked off my shirt. One of those patterns I'd seen endlessly at the church headquarters etched there. Eyes twitched.

"...A stigmata?"

Symbol of direct divine favor, apostle's mark wielding absolute church influence. Even the stodgy old church fogeys would gawk—and from one of the three supreme gods.

▶Apologies, Master. More surprises await.

"More...?"

Speechless, I stared. Round 2's life was starting way beyond imagination.