Chapter 8: A Monster Lives in the Basement
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 8: A Monster Lives in the Basement
I’m fucked.
That was the conclusion I reached after careful deliberation.
Yes, it seemed I was well and truly fucked.
The moment I stepped into the underground armory, regret washed over me. I’d probably be more at ease inside a whale’s maw. At least whales don’t subsist on human blood.
This was the nocturnal domain of a vampire, a monster that had feasted on human blood for decades. From the moment I set foot in here, the blood circulating in my body was no longer my own. The blood that should have been coursing through my veins, giving me life, now flinched and recoiled, constantly trying to stray from its path.
This wasn't a problem mind reading could solve. If the vampire decided she wanted me dead, the moment she harbored that killing intent… before I could even resist, my body would shrivel into a dried-up mummy.
How was the Regressor doing? With her heightened Qi Sense, she must be feeling the pressure even more intensely.
‘What incredible energy. A power no different from the last timeline… But this is before that event. Will she be more violent, or more moderate? Will the Tyrkanzyaka from before that matter was resolved even be willing to lend me her strength?’
What is that event? What is that matter? Could you please stop having thoughts only you understand and maybe give me a flashback or something?
‘No point in worrying. I haven’t regained enough strength to face Tyrkanzyaka yet. If I die, I die.’
Alright. That’s it. It has now been proven that getting involved with the Regressor is a terrible idea. To her, this might be one of many lives she can return to, but for me, it’s the only one I’ve got.
If I die, I die? If I stick with someone who thinks like that, ten lives wouldn’t be enough.
I spun around and headed for the door.
“Well, Trainee Shei, since you’re the one with business here, I’ll just be taking my leave…”
SLAM.
The iron door shut right in my face. A strange, crimson sigil flashed before my eyes as if to say, Not a chance.
Seeing my dumbfounded expression, the Regressor snorted.
“Yeah. See you later. If you can leave, that is.”
My escape route was cut off. A pitch-black darkness, so deep I couldn't even see my own body, enveloped me. I sighed and followed the Regressor.
“What? I thought you were leaving.”
“On second thought, I realized I need to ascertain why you’re visiting the underground armory, Trainee Shei. Shall I accompany you for a moment?”
“Suit yourself.”
Now that I was in this deep, we were in the same boat. The Regressor nodded agreeably. I placed a hand on the wall and fumbled my way forward through the pitch-black darkness. I couldn't see the ground, and the floor was subtly slick, requiring considerable concentration just to take a single step.
Dammit. There should be stairs coming up soon. Am I going to slip and fall all the way down? If a warden of the Military State slipped and fell in an armory, it would go beyond ridicule and straight into suspicion.
More importantly, what was the Regressor planning to do in this darkness?
‘Seven Colored Eyes, activate. Azure Eyes.’
Just then, the Regressor poked her own eyes with her fingers. Glistening tears welled up before igniting in a blue blaze. Even in the light-swallowing darkness, the blue flames traced the outlines of objects.
‘The Azure of the Seven Colored Eyes sees depth. It can even pierce through the darkness gathered by a vampire.’
She has all sorts of weird skills. How is a man with only mind reading supposed to live with this kind of injustice?
The Azure Eyes perceived the world in lines and planes. It couldn't detect fast-moving objects or blurry, rounded shapes very well, but it could grasp the overall structure even in darkness. The Regressor cast her blue gaze around. The solid ceiling and walls blocked her view. The only path led downward. In her vision, the faint, trapezoidal lines of a staircase appeared, narrowing in the distance like a long ladder.
Without a moment's hesitation, the Regressor stepped onto the stairs. After taking a couple of steps down, she glanced back at me.
‘Let’s see if you can navigate this darkness.’
Thanks for looking my way.
I hadn't realized it, but the stairs began right in front of me. What’s more, it was a step with a broken, half-crumbled corner. If I had stepped carelessly, I would have tumbled all the way to the bottom.
Phew, that was close. I carefully stepped over the broken stair. From ahead, I heard a soft click of the tongue.
‘He saw through the darkness gathered by the vampire? This man is impossible to fathom. He looks so dazed, yet he foils both my Chun-aeng and the vampire’s darkness…’
This is why people need to experience things from the bottom up. After spending all her regressions meeting incredible people like Sword Saints and Saintesses, she can’t even properly gauge an ordinary person. She’s in desperate need of a commoner experience tour.
In any case, the Regressor and I descended into the basement side by side.
‘Why is he walking so close? It’s annoying.’
The Regressor seemed uncomfortable with my proximity, but I stuck to her like glue. I was borrowing her vision, and if I fell too far behind, I might not be able to see where I was stepping. Feeling like I was practically getting a piggyback ride, I followed her down the stairs.
After we reached the underground armory, the Regressor surveyed the bunker with her azure eyes.
The armory, designed to double as a bunker in an emergency, consisted of a long corridor with spacious rooms on either side. These small rooms were meant for people to hide in and await rescue during a crisis, but they were already occupied by a guest.
The Regressor’s blue eyes glared at the faint shadows peeking at us from within one of the rooms. A massive horse, its head nearly touching the ceiling, was staring in our direction.
‘Is that her familiar? I heard she lost most of them during the great war… but it seems the Sanguine Horse Ralion is still alive and well.’
What in the world is she using this armory for? Why is a giant horse occupying an entire bunker by itself? More importantly, that familiar has a better room than I do. I demand my human rights!
After a brief glance at the Sanguine Horse, the Regressor turned and started walking again. I scurried to follow her.
At the end of the long corridor was a door that felt completely out of place.
The Military State, which prized efficiency and rationality, did not mix art with its doors or walls. A door’s purpose was to open and close a space, and a wall’s was to divide it; anything more was considered a luxury. They would sooner hang a separate decoration on a door or a frame on a wall than commit the inefficient and unproductive sin of carving a sculpture into an iron door or painting a mural on a wall.
However, it seemed that even the Military State wanted to pray to a god when faced with the Progenitor.
The door, cast from a single piece of solid steel, was engraved with an image that would have been at home in a biblical illustration. On the wall, a mural depicted a beautiful angel with enormous wings, blowing a trumpet. The trumpet was aimed toward the door, as if ready to deliver immediate punishment should anything ominous emerge.
Sculptures and murals one would expect to see in a church. The underground armory was dark, yet I could see them with perfect clarity.
Because in this darkness, that magnificent sculpture and sacred painting…
…were drenched in fresh blood, glowing crimson as if celebrating a festival of blood.
I stared at the art, then turned my head with a creak.
“…Hey. Trainee Shei.”
“What?”
“Should we go back now?”
“What, are you scared?”
“Yes.”
My honest answer seemed to surprise the Regressor.
I mean, this is terrifying. I would have been better off not seeing it at all.
If the Sanctum saw this, they would have dispatched an inquisitor, crying blasphemy. But the moment they heard the opponent was the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka, they would have swiftly canceled the dispatch and pretended they saw nothing. It would be nothing more than a gift of an inquisitor’s blood.
That was the kind of being the Progenitor of vampires was. Whether I was strong or weak, it was only natural to fear her.
The Regressor shot me a sideways glance and said, “You’re more of a coward than I thought.”
“That’s how I’ve stayed alive this long. Fear of danger is an indispensable element for survival.”
“Is that so?”
‘Maybe that’s why I’ve died thirteen times.’
Ah. Now that I think about it, that’s true. It doesn’t matter if you die. I suddenly felt wronged.
“If you’re so scared, why did you call her ‘Elder’?”
“Well, she is an elder, isn’t she?”
“Ugh. Never mind.”
“Never mind” meant she was going to do whatever she wanted. The Regressor strode forward and placed her hand on the door. She didn't apply much force, yet the door swung open on its own, like the maw of a beast awaiting its prey.
“Ah, hell. Mother Earth, have mercy.”
Nothing to be done about it. If I’m already eaten, there’s not much difference between being in the mouth and being down the throat. Before the door could close, I followed the Regressor into the final room.
Torches, a bit anachronistic in this modern era of lamps and electric lights, hung on the walls. They were elegant sconces, carved directly from stone with a chisel and spike to resemble birdcages, then flipped upside down. The artisan’s soul was embedded in the painstakingly sculpted nest-like decorations, making it seem as if a phoenix might spread its wings and burst forth from within at any moment.
Flames, red as blood, licked at the air, soaring toward the sky. But their ascent was short-lived. This was the lowest place in the world, a basement floor of a prison in the Abyss. It was a place far too cruel for a flight to the heavens. Pop. The flames touched the ceiling and crumbled, the corpses of light scattering in all directions.
Ironically, light finds its meaning in its demise. The dimly lit final chamber. The light, scattered by the ceiling, cast red shadows.
Thanks to that, I could see the room’s appearance.
The fact that everything was crimson wasn't just because of the red flames. It was blood. The room was wallpapered in what must have been thousands of liters of blood. On the ceiling, on the floor, on the walls. So much blood sloshed and flowed that the room itself felt like a giant, beating heart.
Yet, despite the vast amount of blood, there wasn't even a hint of its scent. The smell of blood was part of the blood itself, and thus under the Progenitor’s power.
Unless Tyrkanzyaka permitted it, the Regressor and I wouldn't even be able to smell the blood.
[For what reason have you come to see me?]
A jet-black wooden coffin sat in the middle of the room. An exquisite piece, its body crafted from precious imperial juniper, meticulously lacquered, and carved with a winged, red cross. A voice flowed out from within it.
My blood ran wild. The blood beneath my veins, which should have been dedicated to preserving my life, was now trying to rush out like it was greeting a long-lost lover.
Overwhelming power. Faced with it, the Regressor…
“Tyrkanzyaka. I’ve come to make a deal.”
…spoke boldly, face to face with the vampire.
“Teach me Bloodcraft.”
To show up unannounced and demand to be taught a skill. It should have been an absurd request, but the vampire showed no surprise. She was used to it. In her thousand years of existence, the number of people who had sought her out for something had exceeded four digits.
The power to control blood. Hearing that name after so long, the vampire quietly asked back.
[Do you wish to become one of my Kindred?]
Becoming a vampire and accepting the Progenitor’s blood into one’s body naturally grants the power to control blood. Countless people had coveted or demanded the Progenitor’s blood, seeking immortality. The vampire, feeling a slight sense of tedium, asked the Regressor if she was just another one of them.
But the Regressor had no intention of becoming a vampire. Instead, she demanded something deeper, more fundamental.
“No, I have no intention of obtaining it that way. Teach me the technique you learned before you became a vampire.”
For a very brief moment, emotions stirred. A violent shock and confusion erupted from within the coffin. In an instant, all the blood in the room seemed to contract, gathering inward.
But her opponent was a vampire who had lived for over a thousand years. Her blood wouldn't run hot over something so trivial. The vampire calmed her excitement and replied.
[How did you come to know of this?]
The Regressor faced the vampire, thinking a thought only a Regressor could.
‘The you from the last timeline told me.’
A smile touched the Regressor’s lips as she briefly, just for a moment, lost herself in reminiscence.
Before the vampire became a vampire, when she too was human. Back then, the girl could control blood. A small girl who diligently helped her physician father run his clinic, she had helped countless people. As a human, her ability was limited to stopping bleeding at best, but that alone was enough to earn people’s smiles.
The vampire from the previous timeline had hinted at this fact, advising her to learn it before… quietly drawing her last, unmourned breath.
The flashback ended. I felt like I’d been shot up from the depths of the sea, and I pressed a hand to my throbbing head.
So this is a flashback. It was a short and fragmented memory, but it yielded some results.
Not only did I get a glimpse of the Regressor’s memories, but I also learned a little about the ‘calamity.’
It seemed a calamity was indeed coming. A calamity so powerful that even a monster like the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka couldn't withstand it and had perished.
[I ask again. How did you come to know of this?]
“If you teach me, I might just tell you.”
[…You are bold.]
A short silence. A slow thought. Thousands, hundreds of thousands of thoughts flickered and vanished. Then, at some point, the vampire’s attention turned to me.
[And you. What do you think?]
Wait, me? I was just standing here quietly, why single me out? I answered hesitantly.
“Do as you wish, Elder.”
[…Elder?]
Huh? The blood just twitched. Was she offended? I spoke quickly.
“Duty takes precedence over age, so I will refer to you as Trainee. However, Trainee Tyrkanzyaka, your, uh, age is quite advanced. The Military State tends not to give any particular instructions or orders to elderly trainees. The same goes for me. As long as you don’t leave the education facility, you are free to act as you please, so it’s fine if you wish to continue lying here.”
Fwit. Something jet-black grazed my cheek. A very thin cut appeared. Squeezing through the gap, my liberated blood slowly flew toward the vampire, fluttering like a swallowtail butterfly.
I didn't even see it move. There was no killing intent, so I didn't dodge, but it wouldn't have made a difference if I had tried.
A chill ran down my spine. I took a sharp breath and stopped talking.
A voice tinged with faint anger came from within.
[…So because I’m old, I should just stay cooped up in my room?]
“No, that’s not what I meant. If you could just continue as you have been…”
[I do not wish to hear it.]
The black coffin lid opened. Like the outside, the inside was filled with a pitch-black darkness. Parting that darkness, a pale, slender hand rose.
My blood, which had been flying through the air, landed on her hand. It soaked in like rain on dry earth.
A faint sense of displeasure emanated from the vampire who had harvested my blood.
[…As expected, even your blood is tasteless. You and I are complete opposites. There is not a single thing about you that I find agreeable…]
But, for that very reason.
And then, the coffin sat up. It pushed itself up with the surging darkness and faced the Regressor and me.
[I originally only partake in the blood of pure maidens. The blood of men like you is usually… used as an ingredient.]
The inside of the coffin was still dark. Only a lifeless white hand emerged from the gap. Now, another stream of blood flew to that hand. It was the Regressor’s blood, shed to open the door.
The vampire moistened her hand with the blood and spoke.
[But your blood is quite good. For a man… This is a first. That I would willingly drink a man’s blood in my lifetime…]
That’s because she’s a woman… It seemed even a vampire couldn't see through that shoddy male disguise. The Regressor clenched her fists at the positive sign.
The vampire spoke leisurely.
[Very well. I shall teach it to you.]
“Thank you.”
[…Receiving a guest after so long has tired me. You may leave now.]
With those words, the vampire closed the coffin lid. Having received a positive answer, the Regressor fought the urge to jump for joy and desperately controlled her expression.
‘Yes! I did it! I never thought it would be this easy!’
Suppressing her excitement, the Regressor asked carefully, “When will we start? I’d like to begin as soon as possible.”
[Then… shall we begin when the next moon wanes?]
That meant in about a month. For the Regressor, who was in a hurry, that was unacceptable.
“What? That’s too late. Let’s start tomorrow.”
[What is the rush? There is little difference between starting now and starting in a month…]
“There is a difference! A world of difference!”
[Have patience. The waxing and waning of the moon is the Goddess of the Night slowly closing and opening her eyes. That much time is needed to see things properly.]
The two were arguing again. Was it time for me to step in and resolve the conflict?
“Ahem! Trainee Shei!”
I cut in, feigning a stern tone to stop the Regressor.
“A month may be a long time for you, but for Trainee Tyrkanzyaka, who has lived for over 1,200 years, it is but a fleeting moment! Please be a little more considerate of the other party! Time may seem fair to all, but it is, in fact, more relative than anything. For one such as her…”
“…How about you try being considerate of the other party?”
Huh? What about it? I’m already being plenty considerate. If I weren’t treating her with the utmost respect, do you think I’d be sucking up this much?
As the two of us bickered, a slow voice drifted from the coffin.
[…So. The reason my actions are slow is because I am too old?]
“No, I wasn’t criticizing you. I was just trying to teach this rude brat about the difference in experience that comes with age.”
[Very well. In that case, we shall begin tomorrow.]
As the Regressor rejoiced at getting her way, the vampire added another word, her attention fixed on me.
[Both of you, that is.]
“Excuse me?”
Wait, why me all of a sudden?
Just as I was about to protest…
[Now, leave.]
The world grew distant—that was the only way to describe it. My body and the Regressor’s moved on their own. No, it wasn't us who moved.
The walls, the floor, the door.
The corridor, the ceiling, the room, the stairs—they all rushed forward. The world slid past us from back to front. Like watching a fast-flowing river from a docked boat, a dark, viscous liquid flowed past us, retracing the path we had taken—
Before we knew it, without having taken a single step, we were standing at the entrance of the underground armory. Thud. The sound of the steel door closing brought me back to reality.
“Holy shit.”
I had a feeling I was walking into the tiger’s den from the moment I entered.
Literally, that place… was no different from the inside of the vampire’s body. What just happened was the vampire spitting us out.
The Regressor, seemingly used to it, dusted herself off and said, “Heh heh. You’re a pathetic sight. Were you surprised?”
“…Not particularly.”
I just realized that the fucking scary monster was actually a transcendently scary monster. As I answered, the Regressor covered her mouth and laughed, mocking me.
“Let me give you a piece of advice. It’s best not to mention age in front of Tyrkanzyaka. That’s just how a woman’s heart works.”
The Regressor puffed out her chest, then turned lightly and walked away. I watched her retreating back with cold eyes.
It’s not like I did it because I don’t understand a woman’s heart.
Well, whatever. She didn’t explain anything to me, so I won’t bother explaining anything to her.
I dusted off my hands and feet and turned to leave. Ugh. I was so tense my back hurts. Maybe I should just turn in early today. I should go to the cafeteria and see if there are any leftover cans of food…
Just as I turned.
“Woof.”
A sound I shouldn't have heard. I slowly turned my head.
There, driven by the sole desire to play with a ball, having tracked my scent and rummaged through a pile of concrete debris to find her leather ball… was Azzy.
No way. No way…
“Woof!”
Thump. The ball dropped. Right at my feet. And Azzy, wagging her tail, nudged the ball with her nose.
The meaning was obvious.
Throw the ball, human.
“Uh, Azzy.”
I attempted a negotiation that would go down in history. A Dog King and a human. A grand attempt at a dramatic compromise that transcended species.
“Today, uh, I’m really tired, you see? So…”
“Woof! Woof!”
“…Just for a little while. If we could postpone it…”
“Woof! Promise!”
Thump, thump. Azzy pawed the ground in frustration. The wind pressure rustled my clothes. She seemed to be getting closer, as if to say, If you won’t throw the ball, I’ll smack you with this paw.
When did she even learn the word “promise”? Ugh, who on earth taught a dog something as useless as a promise? You shouldn’t teach promises so harshly to a child who lacks the ability to take responsibility. If she breaks a promise, I get nothing in return, but if I break one, it just gives her an excuse to throw a tantrum.
“Grrrr.”
Just like this. I looked up at the invisible sky and sighed.
“Haaa. Sorry, my shoulder. I’ll try to keep it under 250 throws today.”
Is this what it feels like to be a relief pitcher forced onto the mound? I picked up the ball. Azzy’s beaming face was incredibly annoying.