WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

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◈ Omniscient First-Person's Viewpoint

Chapter 265

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Faceless Human

Historia and Zikhrund threw punches at each other.

A control panel struck by a missed straight shot into the air, and a chair kicked up with a foot spun toward Historia's head. She took it on her energy-coated forehead, then hid her fist beneath the chair's shadow and drove it forward.

Zikhrund twisted his limbs in a bizarre pattern and smoothly caught that arm, but the revolver in Historia's hand was already pointing a cold muzzle at him. Only then did Zikhrund realize what she had really hidden wasn't her fist, but the handgun. Energy on the verge of detonation shuddered violently.

Bang. With a thunderous blast, blue energy flared from the muzzle. Almost at the same instant, Zikhrund desperately threw his upper body back.

A paper-thin margin. The energy-fired round missed Zikhrund by a hair. Spattered blood traced the bullet's path. The deflected round smashed into the wall, and a thin, sliced wound opened on his skin.

But only for a moment. Zikhrund's wound sealed in an instant. Historia flinched.

"Regeneration...?"

You could call it regeneration, in a way, but it was a little different from the healing of immortals or vampires. He used transcendent precision qi control to hold his blood in place and forcibly reconnect torn skin tissue, creating a new face.

Of course, that was horrifying too. It meant he could forcibly stitch even his own body back together and keep fighting.

"That's an incredible ability."

Damn. The Six Generals really were... I could maybe buy time against someone up to general grade, but Six-Generals grade was just impossible to handle. Without Historia, I would've been turned into mince in a single breath.

Lost in admiration, I readily admitted his strength.

"For something built on a fake life, I mean!"

"Hui! Shut your mouth!"

Historia screamed as his attacks grew even fiercer, but teasing someone who explodes at the slightest poke is fun. And right now, my words were working better than her attacks.

Zikhrund pushed past Historia again and targeted me. In a one-on-one, changing positions like that meant nothing. But with me behind her, Historia had to stop him by any means necessary.

Luckily, this time she had a way.

Highly compressed energy exploded. The gunshot tore through the world, but this time Zikhrund wasn't torn apart. Expecting the shot, he dodged at the exact moment of firing.

The shot missed uselessly, but it still gave Historia the opening to catch him again.

'He's trying to make me burn through bullets. Two shots already. Only one left... One. If only I had one more...!'

Even while raging and trying to kill me, his reason stayed calm. That was military-state Six General, Yeonggwe Zikhrund.

Cool-headed even with his identity under threat. The Six Generals were all like that, but he was terrifyingly dangerous and strong. If Historia had been the one targeting me... I would've taken a bullet and died screaming. Lucky she's on my side.

I couldn't stop there. Historia was protecting me, but even then, if I wanted to survive, I had to struggle desperately. This wasn't the kind of place where you lived by getting carried.

A weak, ordinary guy like me only had one option here: mental attack.

"Is Zikhrund's life really that attractive? Attractive enough to risk your life to protect it? No, it isn't. The life called Zikhrund is just an extension of what you've always done. Steal someone else's face, hide inside someone else's life, expose their corruption, execute them. A life built on the premise of becoming someone else, right?"

Every line I threw made Zikhrund's attacks more violent. Historia blocked him while cursing me inwardly. At this point, every time they traded punches, it sounded like artillery fire.

Looks like it was true: people got angrier when someone tried to hold them back. He couldn't vent directly at me, so it just kept building.

"Now then, Zikhrund! I can read your wish. In practice, I'm the only human who can grant it! Because that wish is the only thing that makes you you!"

"Cut the bullshit!"

Zikhrund slammed Historia hard and, at the same time, threw a sharp object from inside his clothes at me through the opening. It was a clothing packet sharpened like a dagger. The material was cloth made from alchemic thread, but since it was compressed alchemic matter hurled with energy, the force behind it was vicious.

Hmph, but for me, a mind reader, the trajectory was already crystal clea... wait. Too fast to dodge.

Bang.

At that critical moment, Historia shot the clothing packet down with a bullet. Her accuracy was absurd even without Zeroing Shot. With skill like that, did she even need that principle? She could just hit. Was there any point in promising a sure hit with Zeroing Shot? What a waste.

'That was my last bullet...! What do I do now? I have no more moves...!'

Come to think of it, from what I'd seen in the regressor's thoughts, Historia awakened a different ability in the future, right? Not Zeroing Shot, but Gunblade Grand Intent. It sounded insanely strong, so why not awaken it now?

I was in danger too. Awaken and get me through this crisis. Carry me to safety in style.

Now Historia had no bullets left. Combat Alchemy was too hard to improvise in this fight, and the opponent was too strong to give her any breathing room. She was clearly cornered.

Yet even in an overwhelmingly favorable position, Zikhrund moved defensively. Historia quickly realized why.

'He knows my ability. Zeroing Shot, where one of three rounds becomes guaranteed to hit. To him, who doesn't know I only had three bullets, this is my fourth. He believes I still have a principle-touched bullet...!'

Once she finished judging the situation, Historia spun the cylinder. She knew it was empty, but trusted her opponent didn't.

Sensing the advantage instinctively, Historia pressed harder than before. She aimed the muzzle at him but didn't fire. Keeping it saturated with energy and ready to shoot at any moment, she fought with hands and feet.

Good. This was a chance. I coached from behind as if Historia still had bullets.

"Ria! He can't dodge your next bullet. So he'll try to take the hit in the safest place! Even if you hit his arms or legs, he'll regenerate quickly. Aim for a vital point that ends it in one shot!"

"I'm aiming there even if you don't tell me!"

'I'm only aiming. I can't fire!'

Our timing was perfect. Just like I thought: people who'd been fooled were better at deception.

Whenever the muzzle aimed for his head, Zikhrund closed in and sped up his movement. Trying to force close-range hand-to-hand to disarm her was pointless. To take a revolver gripped that tightly and packed with energy, he'd need to use far more energy than she was. Rather than waste strength on something useless, he knocked aside her elbows and upper arms and slipped out of the line of fire.

And Historia, with no bullets at all, kept fighting as if she were trying to force him into her firing line. In other words, Zikhrund was fighting an imaginary bullet.

"The scariest bullet in the world is the one that hasn't been fired yet. You never know when or how it'll be fired."

If he pulled away to attack me, his whole body entered her line of fire. Because of a bullet that didn't even exist, Zikhrund ended up bound to Historia instead.

Whew. Good thing I only gave her three bullets. Too bad the revolver held six.

They traded for quite a while. Zikhrund had a slight edge in pure close-range fighting, but Historia used the gun as a weapon and kept the fight even, no, heavily in her favor.

A lull, right? Time to keep pushing the plan.

"The bullet called Zikhrund is the same. You've already been fired. People already know you transform with disguise art, and once it's known, it can't be a weapon anymore. Your value ends here! You can't stay Zikhrund any longer!"

"You... if only you were gone...!"

"Haha. I have no plans to disappear! So this is a good chance. I'll choose your next life for you. Exactly as you wish. A name, face, and status where you can become the real you! What do you think? Tempting, right?"

"I don't need that! I can decide that myself!"

"Then try! I'll evaluate it!"

Even while fighting Historia, Zikhrund's face shifted wildly. A blank-page face changing one way, then another. I looked over Historia's shoulder and snorted.

"That's Tyr's face. I get that you're excited after finding a good model, but can you handle it? That's blasphemy against both the vampires and the Sanctum at once."

The moment I finished speaking, it changed again and again. So he was still listening even now. I kept up my cold evaluation.

"Siati? With the right arm intact, that looks much better. Still, leave my friend's face out of this, please. It tangles relationships and makes things awkward."

The next face was the princess. Seeing that innocent princess face trading blows evenly with Historia made me let out a dry laugh.

"If she were the real princess, Historia wouldn't have been able to attack her in the first place."

And the next face was... a very dignified version of the regressor. I chuckled and mocked him.

"Ahaha. That's way too manly, isn't it? Sorry, but Mr. Shei isn't that manly. He's the person who does the most feminine things!"

After all, only women can cross-dress as men. In a way, maybe it wasn't bad, since it wasn't a real person.

Then the next one... was me. The shock made Historia's hands and feet pause for a moment, and she took two clean hits. Still, the damage wasn't severe, and she regained her stance immediately.

"Seeing something with my face corner Ria like that feels weirdly good. Is this vicarious satisfaction?"

Then Historia suddenly smacked my cheek, no, the cheek of the one wearing my face. The impact felt so sharp that I flinched and rubbed my own right cheek. Damn, my heart. I thought I'd been hit myself.

And the face that came next was... one woman's face, pale, gloomy, mouth hanging open like an idiot.

Right. So it was you. Found you.

The one who made the military state.

Good. Confirmed.

"Not bad, but I'd like to recommend a slightly different direction."

When he was very young, he was born as the child of a courtesan. A courtesan's child with no clear father usually grew up to become a courtesan too, and the more skills they learned, the better treatment they received. Pressured by his mother, he learned every kind of art.

The pleasure house was full of talented people, and he learned every little trick there was. Gifted as he was, he absorbed every skill like a sponge soaking up water. Just as he began to stand out, a visiting theater troupe wanted to take him away.

No pleasure house in the world would sell a talent who could one day support its earnings, but theater happened to be in vogue across the Empire at the time. The quality of a play could raise or lower a vassal state's prestige, so troupes naturally had enormous influence. A mere pleasure house operating under state tolerance had no way to resist.

The only problem was his own will, his attachment to the pleasure house where he'd grown up.

But one line from the troupe leader changed him.

In the pleasure house, he'd become nothing but a courtesan, but on stage, he could become anyone.

At that moment, he abandoned his old status and became an actor. He took a new name as his stage name and began a second life.

Back then, he was probably full of a different kind of hope. But it didn't end well.

"Now. Try changing exactly as I tell you. Since you can become too many things and can't choose, it's better if I choose for you."

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