Reverse Heaven Orb
Item Information Check
Type: Consumable
Level: —
Effect: —
* Item Information Check level too low. Details unavailable!
* World-bound item. Cannot be registered in the shop!
* Cannot be taken to other worlds!
He picked up one of the thousands of white orbs. Then he opened the item information window.
Yeokcheon. The orb that defies the heavens. No matter how he looked at it, this had to be a regression orb.
“…”
He set down the orb in his hand and picked up another, opening the information window again. The same system window appeared. Another one, and yet another.
He admitted it. The odds were very high that these thousands of orbs were regression orbs.
“Doesn't seem like they'll all fit in my inventory…”
He decided to give up and leave them all here. The second floor of the temple couldn't be accessed without this pendant anyway. Besides, he had no intention of using these orbs unless absolutely necessary.
“Who knows how many years back it sends you.”
What if he used it wrong and reset all the relationships he'd built up until now? The mere thought was horrifying.
Three months at the current training camp, two months in the past training camp, and finally one month as a Combatant. He'd spent half a year in the Terraforming world alone.
Did he look insane enough to go through all that again? He wasn't like the protagonists in other regression novels, regretting his past actions. Going back would just tire him out for no reason.
“Better not touch them…”
He gently set down the Yeokcheon Orb in his hand.
He didn't know right now, but there was a way to find out how far back it regressed. The time from when Lee Kangin transferred to the Terraforming world until he faced mortal danger—that would be the regression point.
Even being generous, it had to be at least a year. But he couldn't just ask Lee Kangin outright. The man wanted to keep his regressor status secret.
Still, it was time he seriously needed the information Lee Kangin possessed. He'd used up every bit of original story knowledge he had. He couldn't let the guy keep hiding future info any longer.
How long could he keep wracking his brain to pry it out bit by bit?
“It's time. Time to share Lee Kangin's secret.”
Lee Kangin trusted him. Even if his secret got out now, it wouldn't make the man too wary. From Lee Kangin's perspective, he was a solid ally.
He decided to talk it out openly with him.
All his business here was done. Time to leave the second floor of the temple.
Finding the way down was simple. The spot where he'd transferred in had a pendant pattern engraved on the floor. Just like on the first floor, pressing the pendant to it should do the trick.
As he bent down to place the pendant on the pattern—
“…No, maybe I should take just one, just in case?”
He changed his mind and stored a single Yeokcheon Orb in his inventory. It might come in handy if plans A, B, C, and D all collapsed, as a last resort.
He prayed it would never leave his inventory again. That moment would be his greatest crisis.
He bent down and pressed the pendant to the pattern. While casting Deceiving over his entire body.
Deceiving
“Had a good vacation? Why'd you call me out of the blue?”
Clear, trusting eyes looked up at him. Their eye levels were about the same now.
A distant memory surfaced. The days when he'd had to crane his neck to look up at Lee Kangin for so long.
But he'd changed completely since then. Now he was slightly taller than Lee Kangin, so it was he who looked down.
A negligible height difference, really.
“Vacation was great. You should try it sometime.”
“I'm not into all that excessive flirting. Anyway, what'd you wanna talk about? Why the suspense? You're killing me here.”
There were no signs of anyone nearby. He'd deliberately chosen this spot to summon Lee Kangin.
With the small talk done before getting to the point, he steeled himself for the serious conversation.
He hardened his expression and met Lee Kangin's gaze.
“…”
The brief silence was enough to shift the light atmosphere. He wasn't one to usually put on a straight face.
Lee Kangin sensed it too, looking at him with a slightly puzzled expression.
Looking back at him, he slowly parted his lips.
“You have something you're keeping secret from everyone, right?”
“…What?”
Lee Kangin's face hardened instantly. The mood was far from one for light jokes. His expression and the weight in his words made it so.
He hesitated deliberately for a short moment, then continued.
“I've had my suspicions for a while now… and I'm pretty sure about it.”
“…What are you talking about? I don't have anything to hide…”
“Hm… just some friendly advice, but you're not much of an actor.”
“…Yeah?”
“Sometimes it shows in what you say and do, right? You've gotta feel a little guilty yourself?”
Lee Kangin let out a sigh.
His expression said he had more than one or two things in mind.
'Good. Fooled him so far?'
In truth, Lee Kangin had hardly let anything slip. He'd been careful, putting in his best effort to hide it.
But he gave a wry smile and spoke to him. His smile was body language saying, 'I already know, no need to say it.'
Seeing that, Lee Kangin would recall his own minor slip-ups that had made him anxious. He'd jump to conclusions about his odd behaviors that had given him away.
In short, the thief had shot himself in the foot.
“…Yeah. Honestly, I was planning to tell you soon anyway. Glad you figured it out.”
He'd cleanly fooled him without a shred of doubt.
Lee Kangin's stiff expression relaxed, as if resigned. It even looked somewhat relieved, like a heavy burden lifted from his shoulders.
He seemed to view getting caught as a good thing. Sharing such a crucial secret must have been hard for him. He'd probably hesitated even with him.
No matter his resilient nature.
“I've got sharp instincts, you know? No one else would've noticed. Not even a hint of suspicion from them.”
“…Hearing you say that makes me trust you more. That's a relief. Chanyoung, you're right. Actually, I…”
“Lee Kangin. You gained some vague ability to glimpse the future, right?”
“…From the fu—wait, what?”
“…Huh? Isn't that it? It fits your behavior. Knowing the future.”
“…?”
Lee Kangin's face turned baffled. He mirrored the confusion deliberately, meeting his eyes.
Fortunately, he'd cut him off before the keyword regression slipped out.
Why pretend to misunderstand on purpose? Because assuming he'd gained a rare precognitive ability was far more natural than guessing regression outright.
From Lee Kangin's perspective on him, with no knowledge of orbs or time travel, jumping straight to regression would seem off.
It was far more natural to think of mana awakening abilities—something even trainees could grasp—leading to future sight.
Lee Kangin wasn't suspicious now in his confusion, but if he thought it over calmly later, he'd naturally wonder.
'Why was he so sure it was regression, not precognition?'
This was to prevent that. The result was the same—hearing about the future from Lee Kangin's mouth—so he chose the path with least suspicion.
Lee Kangin's reaction was easy to predict. With no knowledge of regression orbs, claiming a random ability was far simpler for him.
If he asked, 'How'd you regress?' he'd have to say, 'I don't really know.' Inviting suspicion, naturally.
Unless he went back to the moment before regression to investigate—which he couldn't easily do—and besides, he'd already erased the traces.
For Lee Kangin, saying he'd awakened random future sight was easiest. It fit perfectly without raising doubts.
Later, if an unknown future event arose, his response would be simple: 'The ability didn't trigger! Maybe I lost it…'
Then he'd have to comfort a distraught Lee Kangin over his lost power. He couldn't exactly berate him then.
“Hmm… your expression says it's a bit off?”
“No! No, it's vague future knowledge, yeah! Whoa, you nailed it. Scared me there.”
“…Really?”
“Totally.”
“Hmm… guess so.”
The 'me who reads Lee Kangin well' pretended to harbor slight doubt. But in the end, he had to act convinced. Keeping the suspicion up would only hurt him.
“Not full future knowledge, so it triggers randomly?”
“Y-yeah!”
“An ability to know the future… yeah, worth hiding.”
“That's why I kept it from you!”
“Figured as much.”
Lee Kangin eagerly agreed with his misdirection. He let the situation flow, pretending ignorance.
Now he could legally hear the future from Lee Kangin's mouth. The precarious prying was over; he'd achieved his goal.
He hardened his expression again and asked.
“Any crises coming our way… did you see any?”
“…One.”
“You saw it. Share what you know.”
“Remember the guys who raided the Northern Training Camp last time?”
“Rebels?”
“Right. We'll have full-scale war with them.”
Gerard and his minions, as expected. He'd predicted that much. If not rebels, then a monster horde like the Baekwonhu packs.
Now for what worried him most.
“How much time until the war?”
“Four years.”
His face stayed steady, but inwardly he cursed softly.
Four years was far too long to wait.
'Damn, knew it.'
Lee Kangin's peaceful expression at the District 11 training camp made sense now. It fit an event episodes away.
That's why he'd pulled this high-stakes bluff to pretend he'd figured out the secret.
He couldn't waste years waiting for an unpredictable episode.
Of course, he wouldn't blindly assume four years of peace before the rebel war. But no new variables seemed likely now—especially not ones threatening his life.
There'd been a clear cause for changes in Lee Kangin's known future. He'd confirmed it all with his own eyes on his past trip.
So, no more massive variables in Lee Kangin's future. The ripples from his time travel had settled.
He had to assume peace for four years, give or take a small margin, and act accordingly.
Four years of wasted time confirmed. Naturally, he had no intention of just waiting.
“What? Four years? Ha… longer than I thought.”
“Don't let your guard down. They'll come prepared. What I saw… they used decoys. Not just District 11—raids on other districts too.”
And you died in District 6, almost opposite, because of that decoy? The puzzle pieces clicked into place.
Six months had been exhausting enough; eight times that… No way he could wait four years.
“Let's pull it forward.”
“What?”
“Advance the full-scale war. Lure the Shelter into striking them first.”
“…You're crazy?”
“Dead serious. Better than waiting till they're fully ready, right? Before that, can you pinpoint the decoy raid locations and times?”
“I know them all.”
“Good news… but is the future you see absolutely fixed, unchangeable? None of your visions changed so far?”
“Well…”
“No?”
“…Yeah.”
“So… if they raid three or two years early, before we're ready, we're screwed.”
“No way the timing error would be that big… I'd like to say, but I can't be sure.”
“Thought so. Most importantly, do you know the rebels' base?”
“…How'd you know?”
“Various reasons, but let's say it ties to you pulling me into District 11. Not important now.”
“Ha… fine. What's the plan?”
“…I just heard this. Obviously, we start planning now.”
Lee Kangin gave him a slightly incredulous look.
He felt wronged. He should be the one looking incredulous. Did this guy think he was some magic pouch spitting out genius schemes after five seconds?