How To Raise Your Regressor-Chapter 190 - Samur I Don’t Lie Eckart

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Chapter 190 - Samur I Don’t Lie Eckart

"Ngh…" Tristan groaned as he stirred.

The next moment, his eyes fluttered open and he woke up from the deep sleep he was in.

For a brief moment, he stared at me in confusion, as if he couldn't understand where he was or what was happening, but the next moment his eyes cleared up.

"Morning, sleeping prince," I greeted him.

Tristan silently looked around a bit, then suddenly his eyes widened and his head jerked down.

"M-my legs-" 𝗳𝙧𝐞𝚎w𝗲𝚋n𝚘𝙫𝑒𝘭.𝑐om

"Healing potions sure are convenient, aren't they?"

Well, to be more precise, what I used was the Elixir, but it technically is a healing potion so it's not like I'm lying.

Samur I don't lie Eckart.

"J-just what kind of healing potion…" he muttered as he touched his legs.

"Really convenient. You are welcome, by the way."

In fact, he should be kneeling down and kissing my feet to thank me for using one the so-called national treasure to heal him.

Sure, I have reached a point where I can create an Elixir while sleeping, but that doesn't diminish its value.

Hmm, but what if Tristan has a feet fetish?

"…Why did you heal me?" Mr. Failed Kidnapper asked a bit apprehensively.

Everything aside, a fully grown man- a villain in fact, being afraid of a 12-year-old boy sure is an amusing sight.

"It would be pretty awkward if you died of blood loss, wouldn't it? I cannot let you die yet."

"What do you want from me?"

Quick to get down to business, aren't we? He might make for a good businessman.

Or maybe not.

"Well, I wonder. What exactly could I want from you?"

Let's try being the cryptic old man who cannot say anything in clear words.

"Are you going to torture me?"

"That would depend on you, I suppose."

"So you want information."

Someone who understands the cryptic old man? Woah.

"I like smart people."

Though to be honest, it's not like I really need to interrogate Tristan. I already have all the information I could possibly need, and I don't even plan to involve myself any further in Lecia's situation.

I'm just killing time until the situation back at the Guild calms down. They'll probably ask where I was when I return, but I can just lie and tell them that I was sleeping in my room.

Ez.

"Haahh," Tristan sighed. "What do you want to know?"

Oh, he's surprisingly cooperative.

Hmmm, smells like a trap, chief.

"That was rather easy."

"I've been in your position before," a derisive smile appeared on his face. "And I know what you're capable of. There's no use in being stubborn and keeping my mouth shut."

Huh.

"What about, I dunno, loyalty to your organisation?"

"My relationship with the organisation is- well, was one of mutual benefit. We were fighting side by side, but we'd stab each other in the back if that's what it took to achieve our goals," he shrugged.

Fair enough, I suppose.

"And what were your goals?"

"Oh, that is…" he suddenly trailed off as his eyes widened.

"That is?"

"T-that is…"

My oh my.

"You lost sight of your original goal, eh? Or maybe not. I guess you forgot the reason behind your goals; about why you fought so hard to achieve that goal."

Or that's the common theme with villains, anyway.

"…" His eyes drooped.

"Well, don't beat yourself over it. It's only natural to forget the reason behind wanting to achieve something. That's completely human."

It's not that strange, actually.

As people continue to fight and fight, single-mindedly pushing towards a goal while making hard yet necessary sacrifices, they end up forgetting the reason why they were fighting so hard in the first place.

They might achieve their goal in the end, but then they have no idea what to do next.

It's entirely possible that Tristan wanted to get power and authority only because he didn't want to see his friends get bullied by the grown-ups. It was nothing more than a simple, na?ve desire of a young boy.

However, over time, his desire turned into an obsession. And in pursuit of his obsession, he turned into the monster he is right now, thus forgetting the original purpose behind wanting to get power.

Or maybe, all he ever wanted to do was to earn enough money to buy enough chocolate shakes to last an entire lifetime, but after drinking too many chocolate shakes, he got sick of them.

Who knows?

"…What are you drinking?"

Oh, is he trying to distract himself?

"This is Cranberry Juice. Would you like some?" I said as I sipped some fine nectar from the straw poking out of the glass.

What, don't tell me you really thought I was lying to Neia.

Because if you were, then you were absolutely right.

I do keep some drinks with me in case I ever get thirsty, though. And I just so happened to be in the mood for Cranberry juice.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Well, that was unexpected.

"Uh, sorry to say this, but this was the only glass I had. Would you like some fruit punch instead?"

"Then why did you even ask?"

"I wasn't expecting you to actually accept my offer, okay? I'll get you some fruit punch."

It has its own charm, after all.

"Just forget about it," he sighed. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Why are you such a hurry? Why don't you enjoy the scenery a bit? It's such a fine night."

Well, I mean, it's just a moon and a bunch of stars, but what one needs is a heart capable of appreciating beauty.

As long as Tristan has it, I'm sure even he can enjoy this rather mediocre scenery.

"You want me to enjoy… the corpses of my men?" He frowned.

Oh, right. I forgot. We are still in the hall where I killed everyone with my Ice Spears.

He's sitting on the chair Lecia had been originally bound to, while I am sitting opposite him on a chair that I found in one of the rooms.

The mangled corpses were thus behind me and I couldn't see them, but Tristan could.

F.

"Why not? Don't you think it's a pretty captivating sight?" I smiled.

Whatever, let's go full edgy mode.

"You must have something wrong with your head."

"Funny how everyone says that."

"…How old are you?"

"A 12-year-old normal boy."

"I can't even imagine how delusional you would have to be to believe that you are normal," he rolled his eyes.

Oof.

"Everyone has different standards of 'normal. What's normal for me might be batshit crazy for you."

"I couldn't agree more."

"Anyway, that's enough banter for today. Let's address the elephant in the room, shall we?"

It's time to spread those asscheeks and dive straight into the shithole that is Tristan and his organisation.

Should I prepare a Hazmat suit?

"Elephant in the room…?" He furrowed his brows.

Goddamnit.

"It's an idiom from Earth. It means to get to the main point."

"Ah…" he slowly nodded. "So… what do you want to know?"

"It's simple. I'll ask you a bunch of questions and you'll answer me. Okay?"

"Alright."

He sure is surprisingly cooperative. Nice.

"So let's start with the very basic questions. You are a part of an organisation that wants Lecia, right?"