Even If I'm Reborn as a Cute Dragon Girl, I Will Still Make a Harem-Chapter 83Book 6: : Atonement

*BANG.*

The gun went off.

Blood spattered, reflecting Woodman’s stunned, disbelieving eyes.

Pain washed over him as he clutched his chest, slowly turning toward the trembling girl who held an old-fashioned gun.

Its barrel was still smoking.

“Looks like… I wasn’t the only one prepared.”

Woodman gave a crooked smile as the gun slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

“You won, Dean.”

“I didn’t win, Woodman.”

The old man’s anger ebbed as he watched the once-energetic man slipping toward death.

“Neither of us won. We’re both losers in this game.”

He pointed toward the window. “Whether you’re the one holding the butcher knife or the one staring it down, you’re still a loser. From the moment our greed pushed us to look toward distant horizons, we had already lost. Utterly defeated with nothing left to lose. We thought we were walking on a sunlit continent, but when we looked back, all that remained was a sea of sin.”

“Is that so?” Woodman coughed weakly. “Seems like I won’t be alone on this journey…” He chuckled bitterly, staring at the empty ceiling as his eyes slowly lost focus.

“That’s why we must atone for our sins!” The old man’s voice rose suddenly, like a proclamation.

He stepped forward, gripped Woodman’s shoulders, and roared, “Atone for your sins, Woodman!”

“Hah… How can a dying man atone?”

“With your life.”

A silver syringe was suddenly plunged into Woodman’s main artery, pumping crimson liquid into his veins.

Nanobots, each no bigger than a cell, raced through his bloodstream to his chest, repairing ruptured vessels and torn tissue. The bullet wound began to close before his eyes.

“Repair fluid…?”

Woodman was stunned, but before he could piece together the old man’s intentions, another syringe, filled with a transparent solution, was plunged into his arm.

His whole body went numb. All feeling below the neck vanished. Even the pain in his chest was gone.

“Spinal block solution, Dean… you—”

Realization hit, and fear flashed in Woodman’s eyes.

Death was never terrifying. The terrifying part was the wait before it.

He had already ready to die, but the old man had frozen him in that moment, denying him the release of death.

“I was going to use my own life,” the old man said expressionalessly, pressing on the wound to keep the blood in until the nanobots finished their work.

“But I still have things to take care of. So, Woodman… I’ll have to trouble you instead.”

“No—why, old man?! Kill me now, or I’ll drag you to hell with me!”

Rage twisted Woodman’s face, and profanity that no refined man like him had ever spoken spilled from his lips.

“You won’t be able to. With that dose of spinal block fluid, you’re already completely paralyzed.”

“You have no right to decide my life for me!”

“This has nothing to do with deciding your life. It’s atonement.”

The old man’s gaze softened with sorrow. “How could I send my most cherished student into hell burdened with sin? If you can save a life before you die… I believe even God would forgive you.”

“Nonsense… old man… If that’s how you really feel, why didn’t you spare me and let me live…? You b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲…!”

Woodman’s voice cracked, and he began to sob quietly. “I don’t want to die yet.”

“Yes, that’s how you should feel.”

Ignoring Woodman’s tearful pleas, the old man’s expression hardened again. His voice was cold as he said, “Those who have died because of you, or are about to, don’t want to die either. But they will, Woodman. Because of you… and because of me!”

“I will atone for my sins in my own way. But you… you will atone with your life.”

Without another word, he injected the final dose into Woodman’s arm.

Woodman’s eyes went wide in horror. His lips parted as if to speak, but a crushing wave of drowsiness washed over him. In the depths of despair, his eyes slowly closed.

The last thing he saw was the old man’s weathered face.

And in that moment, it felt as though he had gone back ten years, back to the day the old man first brought him into the research institute.

*”Look, Woodman, we will defeat the Debilitating Syndrome here!”*

That day, the old man, whose life had already been crowned with countless honors, had suddenly shifted his focus to the medical field—an area he had never explored before.

It was the final decade of his life, and his decision drew endless skepticism.

Woodman had been the first to believe in him without hesitation, because that day, the old man’s expression had been as bright as midday sun.

…And just as benevolent.

“Dean… I’m sorry.”

The old man froze, looking up in surprise.

Tears slid from the corners of Woodman’s closed eyes.

“I regret it…”

The old man said nothing. Then, as if unable to bear the sight, he closed his eyes as well.

After a long silence, he whispered, “Unfortunately, there’s no such thing as a regret pill in this world.”

◆◇◆◇◆

Bernie, everything will be okay. Don’t be afraid.”

The old man wrapped his arms around his daughter, trying to calm the girl who stood frozen in shock and fear.

“Dad…” Her eyes were hollow as she turned around to face him. “I… I killed someone…”

“It’s okay, he’s not dead. You were just protecting me.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Have I ever lied to all of you?”

He patted her back gently as her trembling gradually eased.

“Good girl. Stand up, we don’t have time to stay here.”

“…Okay.”

She forced herself upright, leaning against the wall for support. She was the eldest now in the family. She couldn’t afford to fall here. Donnie, that stupid brat, would laugh at her.

The old man couldn’t help but smile faintly at her resolve.

“By the way, has your big brother come back yet?”

“Big brother? I think he’s—” Before she could finish, she was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

A young man burst in, shouting anxiously, “Dad, Bernie, did you see the news? They said they’re suppressing rioters in the lower district, but why would they bring a massive warship for that? It’s so strange!”

“You finally decided to come back.” The old man didn’t bother hiding his irritation. “Help me move this man to the basement.”

“This man?”

The young man looked down and froze. “Wait… isn’t that Mr. Woodman? What happened? He’s bleeding so much!”

“I’ll explain later,” the old man said curtly.

“Come and help me. Bernie, get your two younger brothers. I’ll be waiting in the basement.”