[No title provided]
"Hero Sion Laurel. You must return to your former self. In two years, before the Gate opens again."
Two years... That was the timeframe I'd carefully chosen when fabricating this lie. Too soon, and the hero's rehabilitation would seem impossible, rendering the treatment pointless and undermining my credibility. Too far off, and it might not feel like a real threat. Either way, I needed to build urgency to push for rehab, so two years struck the perfect balance as the midpoint. Plus, by the time those two years actually arrived, there'd be plenty of time to figure out what to do next.
"......"
Sion stared at me wordlessly with those hollow crimson eyes, her gaze steady and piercing. It felt like the air itself was freezing over. In the novel, anyone who met those eyes was said to feel the warmth of sunlight—but if I'd ever truly experienced that, this stare might have thrilled me even more right now.
"How can I believe that?"
"I can prove it. That I'm a regressor."
"You know everything from the past, present, and future?"
"Yes. I can prove it right now."
Right now. That was the key point. Because I didn't know the future. Sion had even told her closest comrade, Nao, that she wouldn't show up anymore. She had no reason to waste time on someone like me or want to see me again later. Playing into that psychology by offering immediate proof was the smart move. No prophecies about future events—just straight to the point.
"I can tell you about things you went through that I haven't seen in this life."
The past? Easy. I knew every adventure she'd had, every trial she'd faced.
Would it work? Would Hero Sion Laurel believe me?
"I want to dismiss it as nonsense and walk away, but it's too specific to ignore. Still, it's hard to believe, so... just one question."
"Of course. Ask away."
"Something you said sparked my curiosity. I'll decide whether to hear more based on your answer."
Just one...? I'd braced for a barrage of questions, but apparently not.
"You said you're a regressor."
"Yes."
"Someone who's lived this world once—or more than once. That's all 'regressor' means, right?"
"Exactly."
"And yet you just said, 'Something I haven't seen in this life, but that you experienced—I'll tell you one.'"
"I did."
So far, it felt like verification. Was the real question coming now?
Sion lifted her head. No longer just glancing up with limp exhaustion—she faced me head-on.
"If you can speak of the things I went through as a regressor... does that mean, Hope Harvey, that in the previous world, you traveled with me as my companion?"
'!'
The proof I'd planned—events from Sion's life in the book—were observations from outside the story. A regressor living inside the world wouldn't normally know them. From her perspective, that's how my words landed. For a regressor to say that, they must have been her comrade in the past life. Logical. Inevitable.
So my answer had to be...
"......Yes."
Pretend to be her comrade. I felt a fresh twinge of awe at how far I could go, averting my eyes as if I couldn't bear the contact anymore. Conveniently, that hid her reaction. Would this work...?
"......"
The silence stretched. Then Sion spoke softly.
"Follow me."
Clear. Concise. She turned and headed somewhere, leaving those words behind.
'That direct look earlier, and now this...'
Her command to follow. It wasn't the soulless drone from before—it carried real intent. Had her will started to return, even a little? A positive sign for rehab, where motivation was essential. But it didn't mean she'd actually start treatment. Now came the real work: convincing her to trust me and commit.
"Come in."
The place she'd led me to was a modest mansion on the outskirts of the imperial capital, not far from the Keroa Empire National Cemetery. As the door opened, a plainly dressed woman who seemed to be a servant greeted Sion impassively.
"You're back sooner than expected, Lady Sion."
"What do you mean, Serin? I'm later than usual."
"Because of the message from Her Highness the princess saying you'd have dinner together."
"I turned it down."
Sion's firm refusal left Serin looking troubled.
"O-oh, really? Dinner isn't ready yet... Could you wait a bit?"
"No. You're dismissed for the day—go back to the annex."
"Pardon?"
The mansion was small, but still a mansion, complete with a separate annex for staff. Only then did she seem to notice me, lifting her head.
"And this person is..."
"Don't ask. Go inside."
"Ah, yes..."
The servant bowed deeply and hurried out past us toward the annex. We entered the mansion proper. Being Western-style, we rolled the wheelchair right in with shoes on. Sion guided me to the living room sofa and continued.
"A comrade from... no, the previous life. I still can't quite believe it."
"I hadn't planned to go that far."
"But if we were comrades, shouldn't you treat me more casually?"
"It might be... too much for you to accept."
I was wracking my brain, improvising every line with maximum creativity. How would a real regressor talk?
"If it's an act, you might be better suited as an actor than a doctor."
"Should I try that next time? If Sion vouches for my talent, it'd be legit."
"Want to test if there's a next time right now?"
"You mean..."
"I could kill you right here, Doctor Hope."
What? Did she just say... kill me? The hero?
"You look shocked. Because I'm the hero—or was—you think I couldn't?"
An unforeseen turn. I'd planned to persuade Hero Sion into rehab, but here she was, still capable of using her powers and threatening to end me with them. Had I been too complacent against a hero? No, the Sion Laurel I knew wouldn't kill so easily...
"Doctor Hope Harvey. You claim to be a doctor—a good person, I assume. But if everything you've said is a lie, you've crossed a line beyond redemption. From now on, speak with your life on the line."
The pressure she exuded was no bluff. Just moments ago, she'd been a near-corpse, devoid of vitality and will—yet now she seemed ready to kill if provoked.
"Tell me. What you 'haven't seen—but I experienced.' Prove you're a regressor. Prove you traveled with me in the previous life."
"......."
If I botched this answer and died, it'd be a joke. But that wouldn't happen. I had the most ironclad proof: something no one outside the hero party could know.
"What I'm about to say..."
It was...
"Iri's final words."
"Pardon?"
Iri Harmony, the back-alley thief of the hero party. Her last words before dying after taking a fatal blow meant for Hero Sion. Known only to the three survivors: Sion, Nao, and Hanamana.
"Iri Harmony. Her final words were..."
"W-wait a minute!"
"Sion. Do you remember the day we first met?"
"Ah, aaah...!"
"You were like the sun back then too."
"Stop..."
"To shine on me, born and raised in darkness, the world had prepared..."
"Stooooppppppppp!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Her scream tore through the air, shattering the silence. As I began imitating Iri, Sion clutched her head, wailing so loudly the whole mansion shook.
"Iri... Iriii... Aaah, Iri!!"
She trembled violently, arms wrapped around her head, curling in on herself until her posture collapsed entirely. She slid from the wheelchair to the floor, sobbing into her hands.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Iri... Sorry I couldn't protect you. Iri... Iri... "
Watching this, I couldn't utter a word. Only inside, my chest burned with uncontainable excitement: 'Ahh, Sion... Hero Sion Laurel, drowning in such despair!'
That's why I was pushing rehab on her—to see more of this. But at the same time, as her rehabilitator, it was my job to free her from symptoms like these.