The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

Chapter 120

The market near the loading bay.

The streets were filled not only with people but also with carts loaded with goods.

Efforts to widen the roads and divide the areas to manage the crowds were noticeable, but the place was still overwhelmingly chaotic.

Even so, the movement of people and goods was somewhat orderly, thanks to those managing the flow. Whoever designed it had done so thoughtfully.

Ian was about to walk inside without much thought when Eor, walking beside him, stopped in his tracks. Ian had no choice but to stop as well and look back.

“Why did you stop?”

Eor’s complexion was pale. He had looked fine when they left the station, but now he seemed exhausted.

Ian wondered if the Arbiter of Hellfire had sensed something unusual, but the response he gave was unexpected.

“This place… feels suffocating. Just the thought of going inside is already tiring.”

“…And?”

“Sigh. I need to rest. There’s a temple over there. It seems less crowded.”

Eor’s gaze landed on an ornate building that looked like a carved piece of art, as though sculpted from a single stone.

It was a temple dedicated to the First Lord, Tessa of Consecration.

“I’ll talk with the brothers there for a while. You can look around at your leisure.”

Without waiting for Ian’s approval, Eor walked off.

As usual, he did as he pleased. But there wasn’t much Ian could do to stop him. After all, Eor hadn’t officially been assigned to accompany him.

“……”

Since he didn’t need Eor’s help right now, Ian entered the market alone without hesitation.

In some ways, this worked out better. Gaum was practically his hometown.

Before crossing into the Empire of Xail with the Hero, he had spent a long time here.

He might not know every corner of the city, but he was familiar with it, especially the market. He could confidently say he knew it like the back of his hand.

As soon as he passed through the entrance, a familiar and appetizing smell wafted over him.

Thick chunks of meat skewered on wooden sticks were being grilled over open flames.

Each drop of juice from the meat caused the fire to flare up dramatically.

Whoosh!

A burly man was tearing into a skewer in front of one of the stalls with a wild appetite.

Ian instinctively checked his pocket. Finding some spare change, he bought one for himself.

It was a bit chewy, but there was no unpleasant smell, and the spicy seasoning suited his taste perfectly.

Carefully avoiding collisions with others, Ian continued exploring the market.

‘Nothing’s changed.’

The market was just as noisy and bustling as ever. It was the same feeling he had experienced back then.

The food stalls, the goods displayed on the stands—it was all familiar.

As Ian was smiling faintly, a man approached him, head slightly bowed, staring at the ground as he walked.

It was the perfect setup for a collision.

Ian immediately sensed the man’s ill intent. As the man’s shoulder approached, Ian dodged and caught the hand reaching for his pocket.

“Huh?”

Ian twisted the man’s wrist and pressed the greasy skewer into his palm.

“Argh!”

The man let out a groan, but in the noisy market, few paid attention.

At most, a few passersby glanced over before continuing on their way.

Ian walked away as if nothing had happened.

A piercing gaze followed Ian from behind, but the presence soon disappeared.

As he casually looked around the market, many familiar faces came into view. He resisted the urge to greet them and continued walking, only to sense something unusual.

‘Huh?’

Goods that should have been extremely popular on the stands were nowhere to be found.

That wasn’t all. Byproducts said to be worth their weight in gold were being purchased for surprisingly low prices. And it wasn’t just one or two items.

‘Could this be a chance to make some serious money?’

It was only natural given that he had returned to the past, but he realized it too late.

Ian had regressed, and that meant he knew the future.

Although he didn’t recall exact dates or times, he remembered which items would become trends or which trading companies and workshops would grow rapidly.

Caught up in honing his skills amidst various incidents, he had forgotten about simpler ways to make money.

‘I have enough starting capital.’

Not only did he have hundreds of gold coins on hand, but he could also raise thousands if needed.

With a black card in his possession and reasonably good relations with his family, he could rely on them for additional funds.

Although certain events, like the movements of Battle Wraiths, had begun to deviate from the future he remembered, the major developments likely remained unchanged.

In short, a well-placed investment in a single trading company could yield both the principal and immense profits.

‘Once this task is done, I should seriously dive into this.’

There’s no such thing as a risk-free gamble, but the thought of turning thousands of gold coins into tens of thousands made him smile.

His head was practically in the clouds. However, a different problem soon came to light.

When he reached his destination, the area that should have been occupied by the Silverwave Trading Company was empty. Not a single item was on display.

‘This should be the place.’

It wasn’t possible for him to get lost in Gaum’s market, of all places.

The Silverwave Trading Company had occupied this spot for years, and now there was nothing. It was bewildering.

‘Can things really go this wrong?’

Just as Ian considered heading to the adjacent area to ask around, someone spoke to him first.

“Are you looking for the Silverwave Trading Company?”

Ian turned toward the rough voice and saw a middle-aged man wearing a white robe. Ian immediately guessed his identity.

‘White Owl.’

Only they would wear such high-maintenance robes like this.

When Ian’s gaze dropped slightly, he noticed the white mask the man was holding.

Seeing Ian’s focus, the man smirked and casually hid the mask behind his back.

“Ah, don’t mind this,” he said with an awkward chuckle.

The man’s attitude felt strangely out of place, but he continued speaking without hesitation.

“It seems you’re looking for the Silverwave Trading Company, but unfortunately, they’re not here anymore.”

“Why?”

“They were expelled. Not long ago, one of our seniors drew a sword against none other than a Level 6 Lord.”

It was exactly what the mercenary guild staff had mentioned.

“So, it wasn’t just a rumor.”

“Of course not. We don’t shy away from a fight. If we’re tasked with escorting someone, we see it through, even if our opponent is stronger. Running away out of fear isn’t our way.”

“That’s a fair point. Hearing it like this makes it sound quite reasonable.”

“Right? But don’t worry about rumors like us drawing swords at the slightest glance. Look at me.”

Ian let out a dry laugh. That might be true for now, but in the future, even the wildest rumors would become reality.

“So, what brings you here?”

“I’m doing some volunteer work for the trading company head. If you need directions, I can guide you. Follow me.”

Ian considered calling Eor but decided it wasn’t necessary.

Following the man who led the way, Ian noticed how the passersby recognized him and quickly avoided his path. It seemed the reputation of being better off not provoking him was well-ingrained.

After walking for quite some time, the bustling crowd began to thin as they moved away from the market.

“Hey, so why are you looking for the Silverwave Trading Company?”

“I heard they deal in artifacts. I wanted to see if they had anything worthwhile.”

“Oh~ A fine choice. Their prices are a bit steep, but from what I’ve seen, they have plenty of good stuff. Still, you’ll need to choose carefully. I’ve spotted a few cursed items among their stock.”

“Do you have any recommendations?”

“Well, that depends on what kind of artifact you’re looking for. I’m not a merchant, just a mercenary. If you’re looking for something specific, you’ll need to ask them directly. They’re quite helpful. Here we are.”

In front of the store stood a group of rugged mercenaries. Despite their intimidating presence, they were quite orderly. Upon closer inspection, some of them wore white masks near the entrance.

“Good luck finding something useful.”

With that, the mercenary turned and retraced his steps, leaving Ian to handle things on his own.

Ian glanced at his departing figure before heading toward the store.

The masked individuals outside avoided making eye contact, their heads tilted skyward as if actively refusing to look at anyone. However, their restless fingers, which hovered near the hilts of their swords, betrayed their unease.

Inside, the shop displayed a variety of items.

There were weapons like longswords, daggers, maces, and spears, as well as defensive gear such as leather gloves, pauldrons, cloaks, and robes.

Even accessories and jewels were on display.

One could describe it positively as an all-purpose store—or negatively as a cluttered bazaar.

However, all these items exuded traces of magic, indicating they possessed special properties.

Unfortunately, there were no labels to explain their features, forcing customers to rely on the merchant’s explanation or specify their needs directly.

What stood out was the notice on the display cases:

“Some cursed items are present. Please refrain from touching carelessly.”

Though polite, it felt like a veiled threat. Mixing cursed items among the stock was likely a measure to deter theft.

But Ian could easily discern which ones were cursed just by looking at the display.

“Are you looking for something specific?” a merchant asked.

“Do you have anything that amplifies fire-based abilities?”

“Ah, yes! Please follow me. How about this? A ruby necklace—an artifact yet to be named. It enhances the potency of fire-elemental abilities. Give it a try.”

Taking the necklace, Ian conjured flames in his hand.

Whoosh!

“Not great.”

The merchant had described it as “amplifying,” but “increasing” would have been more accurate.

While the power was indeed enhanced, the effect was underwhelming—far below expectations. Compared to Freya, the artifact his father had gifted him, its capabilities were insignificant.

“Ah… Then how about this?”

The merchant showed him several more items, but none were satisfactory.

The Silverwave Trading Company was known for its quality goods, but nothing caught Ian’s eye.

Even the artifacts he was shown were more suited for mages than a warrior like him.

“I’ll come back another time.”

After all, Ian wasn’t here to shop but to investigate whether the White Owl Mercenaries had ties to Battle Wraiths.

He stepped outside, noticing the masked individuals still gazing at the sky.

When Ian stared at them directly, one of them shifted his eyes momentarily to meet Ian’s gaze before quickly turning his head away.

“…Hey, what’s your business here?”

“I’m curious about something.”

“What is it?”

“I heard that the White Owl Mercenaries draw their swords the moment you make eye contact, but they seem rather polite.”

“…That kind of pointless curiosity is bound to get you in trouble. You look like a mercenary yourself. Why don’t you move along? Or keep your gaze down.”

Ian didn’t respond. Instead, he simply locked eyes with the man, as if trying to peer through the mask.

“I warned you.”

The masked man’s eyes were bright yellow, with stark white sclera.

Well, it was unlikely for Tougui to be roaming openly in the heart of a city located at the center of the defensive perimeter. This place was effectively a sanctuary.

However, the White Owl Mercenaries’ temperament wasn’t much different from Tougui’s.

Hostility flared instantly as the man gripped his sword’s hilt and charged forward, blade drawn.

Even so, it seemed he knew better than to cause real harm, as he swung with the flat of his blade instead of the edge.

Clang!

Ian deflected the blade aimed at his neck and drove his weapon straight into the man’s shoulder.

“Argh!”

A scream shattered the quiet of the previously silent street.

———–

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