The Regressor Can Make Them All-Chapter 294

Completely transparent—hiding nothing, Richard revealed his ambition to take over the UD Group, even sharing some insider information.

“Of course, the process won’t be easy. We’re not the only ones eyeing to take over the group—”

“Don’t address ourselves as ‘we’ just yet. You’re getting ahead of yourself,” interjected Se-Hoon coolly.

“Tsk...giving me the cold shoulder, aren’t you?”

But despite Richard’s slightly irritated mutter, he continued nonetheless. “Anyway, my siblings are also vying for the President position. Internally, our group has even split into two major factions already—the traditionalists and the reformists.”

“The two have split based on how they were born, I assume?”

“There are other reasons, but yes, that’s one of the determining factors.”

The traditionalists were clearly children born when Wurgen was still human, whereas the reformists were those created by combining souls with necromancy. Unable to come to terms, the two factions kept each other in check.

“The traditionalists are led by Laura and Daniel’s family, while the reformists rally behind the forty-second child, Julia. It’s quite the spectacle when they meet each other.”

Judging from Richard’s words, the power struggle among Wurgen’s children for control of the UD Group seemed to be intense. And considering fights over a single house could get nasty enough, the competition to take the helm of a global megacorporation would naturally be far more brutal.

“And I suppose you’re with the reformists?”

“Of course. The old-timers in the traditionalist faction keep complaining about us homunculi pretending to be humans. It’s basically impossible to coexist alongside them.”

Noticing Richard’s obvious disdain, Se-Hoon calmly asked, “What about the reformists?”

“What about them?” Richard blinked in surprise, not understanding the question.

“You're not particularly fond of them either, are you?”

“...Am I that terrible at hiding it? Wait... I don’t even have a facial structure; I’m a skeleton right now. How could you tell?”

Staring at Se-Hoon in disbelief, Richard rubbed his skull in confusion, giving Se-Hoon a chuckle.

“I just thought the President wouldn’t send someone too ingrained in either side to Babel.”

“The President, you say?”

“I assume he’s not one to support either faction openly. Therefore, he probably sent a neutral party... or someone completely detached from the rest.”

Hearing how spot on Se-Hoon was, Richard’s expression became complicated, realizing Se-Hoon might understand Wurgen’s nature even better than he did.

That should explain how he wields the power of Boundaries so easily, he thought, now seeing Se-Hoon in a new light.

“Back to what we were discussing... yes, the reformists are just as twisted as the traditionalists. They consider themselves a new race, viewing others as inferior beings with tangled, impure flesh.”

Making a sour face, Se-Hoon remarked, “It seems everyone has some serious issues.”

“That’s just the nature of this family. If anything, I think we’re lucky they’re only this bad,” Richard explained, a wry smile on his face.

But the explanation caused Se-Hoon to raise a brow. “And what about you, Richard?”

He didn’t seem as extreme as either side, but who knew what dark thoughts he might have?

Thinking, Richard scratched his chin. “Hmm. There’s nothing special about me, but... if I were to say what ‘quirks’ I possess, I guess I could say that I despise the President.”

“You... hate him?” Taken aback, Se-Hoon had to ask if he heard right.

“Of course. Why else would I be trying to hand the group over to an outsider?”

Wurgen, of all the Perfect Ones, was the most worldly and detested the idea of outsiders taking authority over his group.

It was to the extent that when some reformists attempted to bring in outsiders in exchange for shared control over the group in the past, Wurgen immediately confiscated all of their assets and removed them from the family register. He even decimated the outsiders who allied with his children, which was why no one dared to bring in external forces to their family matters since then.

“That’s why the President only offered matchmaking—because you’re an outsider. No matter how talented the outsider may be, he’ll never let them gain control over his family.”

Wurgen’s intense attachment to the group and his family was unusual, but given his influence, it had a weight that was difficult to look past.

Taking a moment to think, Se-Hoon summarized his thoughts.

“So you want to hand over the UD Group to me solely to spite him?”

“You could say that. Making his life difficult is my life’s purpose, after all.”

Se-Hoon gave him an odd look. Richard sounded like he was joking, but there was deep-seated resentment underlying his words.

It’s almost as if he sees Wurgen not as a father... but as a sworn enemy. Se-Hoon couldn’t help but wonder what past incidents could’ve caused such animosity.

For now, however, he put the thought aside.

“Alright. I’ll think about it and let you know once I decide.”

“You’re putting it on hold even after I said all that?”

“Well, accepting your proposal might mean I have to go up against a Perfect One. I’d like to be smart about this. After all, anyone would find Wurgen as a better ally than you, right? Don’t you think so too?”

“Not even giving me the chance to retort, huh?”

Sighing, Richard gave in. “Fine, just don’t make me wait too long. I have to prepare for this in advance.”

“Understood. I’ll give you an answer before the semester ends.”

“Good. Then, see you next time. Reach out if you need anything.”

With that, Richard waved and dismissed the skeletal summon, darkening his view briefly. When he could see again, he found himself back in a large room filled with screens—the observation room in Valhalla.

“Seriously, how does the President manage without using an undead.... Maybe it’s because he’s just a pile of bones?”

Muttering to himself as he struggled with post-undead fusion fatigue, Richard looked up when a pale-faced man beside him, Benjamin, politely spoke up. “Are you alright? I could adjust your blood flow to help.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that. It’s not that bad.”

Richard waved him off, glancing at Benjamin, who had been sent to oversee Valhalla until its stabilization process was completed. It was slightly excessive to send the chief secretary for something like that, but it was clearly Wurgen’s way of saying, “Don’t you dare cause any trouble, as this is important business.”

Wurgen was clearly warning not only the traditionalists and reformists but also Richard, who had overall responsibility over the project. In effect, Benjamin had been sent as a watchful supervisor.

Yet Richard wasn’t too bothered. He knew exactly what ticked Wurgen off, so he was confident he wouldn’t step out of line.

“Did anything happen while I was away?”

“Everyone’s busy analyzing the recent sparring session,” Benjamin replied, gesturing at the researchers crowded around one of the monitors.

“That archery technique... did he copy the Visionary’s power?”

“Maybe he utilized the Emperor of Ascension’s power? People with spatial abilities tend to have remarkable perception, after all.”

“It’s almost like he was seeing five seconds ahead... how is that even possible?”

Glancing at the researchers continuing to analyze the skills and technique Se-Hoon displayed, Richard turned to Benjamin, narrowing his eyes.

“Chief Secretary?”

“Yes, Director?”

“How much of his power do you think he was using?”

Richard suspected Se-Hoon had held back, but he believed that as someone who was once an S-rank hero, Benjamin would have better insight.

“I’ve never seen Lee Se-Hoon use his full power, so I can’t say for sure. However...” Trailing off, Benjamin recalled Se-Hoon’s battle with the Dream Demon and Wurgen’s assessment before answering, “If he prepares well enough, I believe he could defeat one of the Ten Evils on his own.”

Richard’s eyes widened in shock. “Defeat one of the Ten Evils... alone?”

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Benjamin’s assessment kept repeating in Richard’s mind. The fact that Se-Hoon could potentially defeat one of the Ten Evils, even with perfect preparation, suggested he was already among the very best of the S-rank.

Unable to believe it, Richard couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration?”

Yet Benjamin didn’t bat an eye. “Lee Se-Hoon possesses at least two, possibly up to four, powers of the Perfect Ones. Do you still think it’s an exaggeration?”

“...”

Richard shut his mouth, which he opened to argue, realizing he couldn’t deny it.

No matter how many S-rank skills one possessed, they could hardly compare to the Perfect Ones’ unique powers. With up to four of those, Se-Hoon had already surpassed the scale by which most heroes could be measured.

I guess it is these kinds of people that can ascend the Towers of Heroes... A half-smile formed on Richard’s face as he observed Se-Hoon, who had resumed sparring.

On the screen, Se-Hoon was effortlessly dominating his three highly skilled peers, using combat strategies and elemental compatibilities.

My instincts were spot-on again.

He was certain Se-Hoon would indeed be the one to put Wurgen in his place.

***

It was ten o’clock at night. The city lights illuminated the skyline, blending with the eerie blue glow of undead spirits wandering Gehenna. It was a unique nightscape seen by three figures just emerging from Valhalla, their gazes in a daze as they glanced around.

Their eyes were unfocused, their bodies teetering from fatigue.

“...”

“...”

“...”

Seeming how they looked half-conscious, Se-Hoon made a sheepish smile.

Maybe I overdid it toward the end.

He reflected on how his master had always pushed him to the brink of physical, mana, and mental exhaustion before—the same method that had left the three in worse shape than he’d expected.

Then again, maybe that helped me quite a lot back then, he thought, watching the three sway precariously.

He knew that, despite how out of it they seemed, their state wasn’t entirely bad. If their minds were on autopilot, they’d be able to focus on only the most critical thoughts.

Amused, he stealthily snapped a few pictures of the three on his phone, intending to tease them later. But in that moment, the small figure cradled in his arms, Li Fei, stirred.

“Mmm...”

Though she didn’t seem to be too bothered by the sound from his phone, Se-Hoon still quickly tucked his phone away before turning his attention to the three standing before him.

“Make sure to take your time to review tonight’s training. I added subtle details you might not have noticed, so you’ll be able to learn more when you reflect on it.”

Seeing the three blinking in response, nodding clearly beyond them, Se-Hoon made a wry smile.

“In three weeks, I’ll assess your skills at the tournament. The best performer will be the first to get a custom weapon.”

Then, with a satisfied smirk, he added, “I’m pretty sure I made sure you guys still had enough energy to speak. Got anything to say before you go?”

Prompted by his words, the three looked at each other, sharing an unspoken understanding, and used their last reserves of energy to mutter their thoughts simultaneously.

“You... absolute jerk.”

“Total bastard.”

“You complete piece of trash.”

Yet that just made Se-Hoon laugh. The training had brought them together pretty well.

“Look at these loudmouths.”

Immediately, their eyes all widened in outrage, but just as they were about to throw out more insults, the space around them shimmered and they disappeared from Valhalla’s entrance—sent back to their dorms courtesy of Ludwig, whom Se-Hoon had asked after their training.

Okay, they’re settled... now for the next part...

Whoosh!

With the three gone, the space where they just vanished rippled once more and an old man in a crimson martial robe appeared, his expression as sharp and fierce as his reputation.

Without a word, the old man—Li Kenxie—just looked down at his granddaughter sleeping in Se-Hoon’s arms, his gaze darkening.

Then, after a long pause, he slowly asked, his voice low and tense, “Do you even understand what you’ve done?”

It was a somewhat unexpected question, but Se-Hoon understood what he meant.

“I helped her correct her own synesthetic mindscape.”

“Presumptuous of you.” Anger was visibly simmering in Li Kenxie’s eyes. “You think a brat like you can ‘correct’ her?”

Despite his anger, Se-Hoon met his gaze head-on, unflinching.

“I may not be able to correct it myself, but I can at least help her find the right path.”

In truth, Se-Hoon’s approach hadn’t actually contradicted Li Kenxie’s teachings, and nor had he influenced her inner state to lean in any particular direction. All Se-Hoon had done was merely show her another perspective.

And understanding that as well, Li Kenxie let out a long sigh.

“I never should’ve left her with you.”

He hadn’t imagined that, in just one day, Se-Hoon could have made such an impact on Li Fei’s synesthetic mindscape—he had sorely underestimated the young man before him.

Pushing down on his emotions, Li Kenxie spoke with measured restraint. “This was a mistake on my part, so I won’t press you further about today. But don’t ever appear before Li Fei again.”

He had been planning to stay briefly, but given the circumstances, that was no longer an option. Li Kenxie stepped forward, reaching out to take his granddaughter back.

However, Se-Hoon stepped back, evading his grasp.

“...What do you think you’re doing?” Li Kenxie questioned, his gaze sharpening.

“I don’t know the full story of this situation, but I do know one thing: you’re going about this the wrong way.” Se-Hoon met his gaze evenly, unwavering.

Before he regressed, Li Kenxie had never left Mount Huangshan until ultimately dying at the hands of the Destroyer of Swords, with Li Fei perishing alongside him.

And while Se-Hoon didn’t know all of the reasons behind why Li Kenxie chose to perish on the mountain, he was certain of one thing: he absolutely could not allow them to go back to Mount Huangshan now.

Once they’re there, they’ll be there for their entire lives.

Se-Hoon braced himself—he was now openly challenging the Perfect One before him.

“...”

His eyes boring into Se-Hoon, Li Kenxie’s rage disappeared as quickly as it had come, his gaze now cool and assessing. Finally, Li Kenxie was acknowledging him as an equal rather than a mere child to be lectured.

“...How do you intend to prove that I’m wrong?”

It was no longer a one-sided scolding but an invitation—a test of skill, responsibility, and resolve.

Realizing that, Se-Hoon gave his answer without hesitation.

“Through blacksmithing.”