Bloodhound’s Regression Instinct

Chapter 101

Jin gazed up at Yan with eyes hollowed by defeat, recognizing the truth he had long concealed. Now, unveiled before him stood Yan, his identity no longer a shadowed secret.

Could it be that such an enforcer, a figure of authority, had wandered into the mining village without purpose? An absurd thought. And yet, the implication was clear.

“So… it was you, the enforcer, who cast the dark shadow of rumors over this mining village?” Jin asked, a tremor of fear in his voice.

“Yes,” Yan replied simply, his affirmation sending a chill through Jin.

Alone, Yan had orchestrated a grand scheme, manipulating the influential like pawns, including the revealed Silvers Mercenary Group, Count Ailey, and even Jin himself, hidden in the shadows.

In Jin’s knowledge, only one person could craft such a stratagem—the Special Task Force Leader.

‘Rumors had it that the newly appointed enforcer was barely twenty…’ Jin thought, a sudden fear welling up inside him. To think someone so young could rival the Task Force Leader in cunning.

With a resigned nod, Jin closed his eyes, pondering deeply before conceding, “Yes, I will follow you, Enforcer.”

Yan’s lips curled into a smile at Jin’s swift submission. ‘He plans to weave a tale, escape the situation, and report to the Task Force,’ Yan mused, well aware that Jin was not a man easily swayed.

Yan then made a request to Momon.

“Tch, what a nuisance,” Momon muttered, yet he complied readily, honoring a promise made during their confrontation with Eamon.

Yan chuckled upon hearing Momon’s report.

With a swift motion, Yan extended his right hand.

Boom!

Yan’s mana heart pulsed, and mana began to swirl into a vortex. As the mana amassed, too vast for the ring to contain, it surged forth like a torrent toward another realm.

Jin watched, his mouth agape in awe. ‘Could it be true… that he surpassed the fifth rank?’

He had dismissed it as the Head Instructor’s exaggeration, a ploy to elevate his disciple. But now, it seemed the truth was far different.

Suddenly, from Yan’s hand, a stream of black mist began to flow.

The mist swelled endlessly, soon filling the space where Jin and Yan stood.

“What is this?” Jin asked, his body tensing as he observed the spreading dark miasma.

The feeling of foreboding that had lingered in his mind now seemed to manifest before him.

The dance of the black mist was far from over.

With a slight clench of his hand, Yan commanded.

Whoosh!

The thick black mist, which had blanketed the air, was now being sucked into his palm with a ferocious force.

After a brief moment, the mist that had filled the void vanished into Yan’s hand.

“You said you’d join me, didn’t you?” Yan asked, looking at Jin as he unfolded his clenched hand.

In his palm writhed a grotesque, squirming larva, its pitch-black color a sinister omen at first glance.

Yan pushed his palm toward Jin, offering the larva.

“Then eat this,” Yan said with a smile.

Jin swallowed hard, eyeing the insect. “What… what is this?”

“A token to solidify our bond?” Yan suggested, his eyes gleaming with amusement at Jin’s trembling gaze.

He had anticipated Jin’s vow to join him, followed by an immediate betrayal to report to the Task Force.

“Can’t… trust me?” Jin asked, his voice faltering.

“If you were in my place, would you?” Yan countered.

Jin’s mouth snapped shut. There was no point in claiming trust; Yan wouldn’t be swayed.

“Eat it,” Yan insisted, bringing the larva closer to Jin’s mouth.

Jin clenched his eyes shut. He couldn’t die here—not when he needed to report the enforcer’s treachery, the mastermind who could foil the revolutionaries’ plans.

He had to survive, to carry this news back to the Task Force headquarters.

But if he refused the larva, Yan’s intent to kill him was clear.

‘…This is madness.’

Jin looked at the pitch-black larva with trembling eyes. Even for him, a man well-trained in the art of endurance, swallowing this suspicious creature was a herculean task. He tried to muster strength in his limbs, perhaps to flee, but found himself utterly powerless, likely due to Yan’s intervention.

After a moment of hesitation, a look of resolve dawned on Jin’s face. He had decided to eat it.

With a swift motion…

Whoosh.

…he popped the wriggling larva into his mouth. It slid down his throat smoothly, like water, before he could even register its alien texture. But then, a foul stench rose from his esophagus, an odor so vile it seemed as if all the filth from a sewer had been condensed into this one taste.

“Ugh!” Jin gagged, and Yan kindly patted his back.

“Blargh!” After vomiting everything he had eaten the day before, Jin looked up at Yan with resentful eyes and asked in a gloomy tone, “Can you tell me now? What exactly did you feed me?”

“Huh?” Yan responded nonchalantly, “Gu poison.”

Jin’s eyes widened at the mention of Gu poison—not the strongest, but certainly one of the most malicious toxins known. Its creation was grotesque: venomous insects, snakes, and frogs were left in a small container for years, fighting and consuming each other until only the most toxic survived. This survivor was then used to create a pair of larvae through a dark art.

The male Gu, once ingested, made it impossible for the host to disobey the person who held its female counterpart. To resist meant to suffer pain from the toxin, a pain said to be more terrifying than falling into hell itself.

Jin clutched his throat, desperately trying to regurgitate the Gu, but it was to no avail; the creature refused to come out.

“If it were so easy to expel, it wouldn’t be called a vile poison,” Yan remarked, watching Jin’s futile attempts.

Jin looked at Yan in disbelief. “I heard the art of Gu was lost…”

Indeed, the potency of Gu had been the subject of extensive research, coveted even by the Special Task Force for its potential. However, all they had found were brief records of its creation and effects; the crucial art was nowhere to be found.

And now, the newly appointed enforcer possessed this lost art!

Yan watched Jin’s confusion and, with a slight pinch of his fingers…

Throb!

…a searing pain engulfed Jin’s head, a torment too intense for even a man accustomed to torture.

“Is this just a taste of what’s to come?” Yan asked.

Jin gritted his teeth, enduring the agony.

“You’d best not think of suicide. The larva inside you is quite perceptive,” Yan continued.

“How cruel!” Jin exclaimed.

“Should a Special Task Force agent really say that? Compared to the atrocities you’ve committed, this is trivial,” Yan dismissed with a smirk.

“But it’s not all bad. I’m merely cutting out the cancer from the empire, and that includes your Special Task Force.”

At Yan’s words, Jin’s head shot up.

“What did you just say?”

“There’s cancer in the Special Task Force?”

“There’s a traitor?”

“Yes. And I can prove it, though it may take some time.”

A whirlwind of shock, doubt, and horror swirled in Jin’s eyes. He would never have believed such claims without proof, but Yan’s assurance of evidence left him in turmoil.

Seeing Jin’s reaction, Yan was certain.

‘Got him.’

Jin was unique; he pledged allegiance not to the Task Force Leader but to the empire itself. Unlike other agents who blindly followed orders, Jin would turn his back on the Task Force if it meant protecting the empire. And with his unparalleled skills in investigation and reconnaissance, he was a valuable asset to recruit.

“Why don’t you believe it? That there’s someone in the Task Force bleeding the empire dry?”

“Watch your words. Even if you are an enforcer, you cannot insult the Task Force like this,” Jin growled.

“Can’t insult the Task Force?” Yan chuckled, thinking Jin should be aware of the situation, given his important role.

“Do you really not know about the ‘Destroyer Project’ created by the Task Force’s own cancer?”

Jin frowned, never having heard of such a project. The only ongoing project he knew of was the ‘Dragon Seed Project,’ aimed at gathering and nurturing talents across the continent.

Yan’s sly smile hinted at an unsettling truth.

“…What is that?”

Yan, seeing Jin’s softened stance, grinned.

“It’s an experiment that spits on the promise made by the founding emperor when he established Cabalan. He vowed to create a nation by humans, for humans, without resorting to the unethical practices used by other races on humans.”

The ‘Dragon Seed Project’ had faced fierce opposition when it was first introduced, as it threatened to breach the emperor’s first promise.

“But the ‘Destroyer Project’ is tantamount to outright ignoring that promise.”

Yan’s eyes darkened.

“The Special Task Force is now conducting human experiments, using children to create biological weapons.”

At those words…

“It can’t be.”

Jin’s eyes widened in horror.

Human experimentation, especially on children, was one of the most severely punished crimes in the empire.

* * *

After receiving shocking news from Yan, Jin walked out of the mine with a heavy heart.

Yan quietly observed Jin’s retreating figure.

It was then that Momon, who had been silent in his pocket, made an appearance.

“The back of a man in despair,” Momon remarked.

Yan nodded in agreement. “He has never crossed the line of morality. And yet, he believes that the more blood stains his hands, the closer he gets to creating a better nation…”

Momon snorted at this. “Those who consider themselves just are often deluded. They think they can change the world with violence.”

“True change requires a shift in perception, not fear induced by violence,” Momon added wisely.

“Nicely said,” Yan complimented, causing Momon’s jawbone to rattle.

“Anyway, about that Gu poison… Did you make him believe he swallowed that grotesque toxin?”

Momon seemed to know about the Gu poison as well.

“Oh, do you know how it’s made?”

“I do, but why bother with such filthy poison?”

“It’s good to know,” Yan replied, as Momon stared at him and then shook his skeletal head, seemingly more amiable since their encounter with Eamon.

Then, curiosity seemed to strike Momon, and he asked, “But was there really a need to use illusion magic? He seemed completely taken in by your silver tongue.”

Yan chuckled at Momon’s words.

Jin believed he had swallowed the Gu poison, but…

-Momon, teach me the spell for illusion magic.

The swirling darkness, the pitch-black larva, the vile taste, and the terrible pain Jin felt were all nothing but illusions.

Yan followed the path Jin had taken. “This is skill.”

Persuasion isn’t easy with words alone. But when threats are subtly mixed in, the chances of swaying someone increase significantly.

Thus, Yan first suppressed Jin’s will with threats and then offered tantalizing information to successfully recruit him.

“And it’s also insurance.”

It was a safeguard, in case Jin had other ideas.

“You do lead a tiresome life,” Momon commented, and Yan just smirked.

Jin gazed up at Yan with eyes hollowed by defeat, recognizing the truth he had long concealed. Now, unveiled before him stood Yan, his identity no longer a shadowed secret.

Could it be that such an enforcer, a figure of authority, had wandered into the mining village without purpose? An absurd thought. And yet, the implication was clear.

“So… it was you, the enforcer, who cast the dark shadow of rumors over this mining village?” Jin asked, a tremor of fear in his voice.

“Yes,” Yan replied simply, his affirmation sending a chill through Jin.

Alone, Yan had orchestrated a grand scheme, manipulating the influential like pawns, including the revealed Silvers Mercenary Group, Count Ailey, and even Jin himself, hidden in the shadows.

In Jin’s knowledge, only one person could craft such a stratagem—the Special Task Force Leader.

‘Rumors had it that the newly appointed enforcer was barely twenty…’ Jin thought, a sudden fear welling up inside him. To think someone so young could rival the Task Force Leader in cunning.

With a resigned nod, Jin closed his eyes, pondering deeply before conceding, “Yes, I will follow you, Enforcer.”

Yan’s lips curled into a smile at Jin’s swift submission. ‘He plans to weave a tale, escape the situation, and report to the Task Force,’ Yan mused, well aware that Jin was not a man easily swayed.

Yan then made a request to Momon.

“Tch, what a nuisance,” Momon muttered, yet he complied readily, honoring a promise made during their confrontation with Eamon.

Yan chuckled upon hearing Momon’s report.

With a swift motion, Yan extended his right hand.

Boom!

Yan’s mana heart pulsed, and mana began to swirl into a vortex. As the mana amassed, too vast for the ring to contain, it surged forth like a torrent toward another realm.

Jin watched, his mouth agape in awe. ‘Could it be true… that he surpassed the fifth rank?’

He had dismissed it as the Head Instructor’s exaggeration, a ploy to elevate his disciple. But now, it seemed the truth was far different.

Suddenly, from Yan’s hand, a stream of black mist began to flow.

The mist swelled endlessly, soon filling the space where Jin and Yan stood.

“What is this?” Jin asked, his body tensing as he observed the spreading dark miasma.

The feeling of foreboding that had lingered in his mind now seemed to manifest before him.

The dance of the black mist was far from over.

With a slight clench of his hand, Yan commanded.

Whoosh!

The thick black mist, which had blanketed the air, was now being sucked into his palm with a ferocious force.

After a brief moment, the mist that had filled the void vanished into Yan’s hand.

“You said you’d join me, didn’t you?” Yan asked, looking at Jin as he unfolded his clenched hand.

In his palm writhed a grotesque, squirming larva, its pitch-black color a sinister omen at first glance.

Yan pushed his palm toward Jin, offering the larva.

“Then eat this,” Yan said with a smile.

Jin swallowed hard, eyeing the insect. “What… what is this?”

“A token to solidify our bond?” Yan suggested, his eyes gleaming with amusement at Jin’s trembling gaze.

He had anticipated Jin’s vow to join him, followed by an immediate betrayal to report to the Task Force.

“Can’t… trust me?” Jin asked, his voice faltering.

“If you were in my place, would you?” Yan countered.

Jin’s mouth snapped shut. There was no point in claiming trust; Yan wouldn’t be swayed.

“Eat it,” Yan insisted, bringing the larva closer to Jin’s mouth.

Jin clenched his eyes shut. He couldn’t die here—not when he needed to report the enforcer’s treachery, the mastermind who could foil the revolutionaries’ plans.

He had to survive, to carry this news back to the Task Force headquarters.

But if he refused the larva, Yan’s intent to kill him was clear.

‘…This is madness.’

Jin looked at the pitch-black larva with trembling eyes. Even for him, a man well-trained in the art of endurance, swallowing this suspicious creature was a herculean task. He tried to muster strength in his limbs, perhaps to flee, but found himself utterly powerless, likely due to Yan’s intervention.

After a moment of hesitation, a look of resolve dawned on Jin’s face. He had decided to eat it.

With a swift motion…

Whoosh.

…he popped the wriggling larva into his mouth. It slid down his throat smoothly, like water, before he could even register its alien texture. But then, a foul stench rose from his esophagus, an odor so vile it seemed as if all the filth from a sewer had been condensed into this one taste.

“Ugh!” Jin gagged, and Yan kindly patted his back.

“Blargh!” After vomiting everything he had eaten the day before, Jin looked up at Yan with resentful eyes and asked in a gloomy tone, “Can you tell me now? What exactly did you feed me?”

“Huh?” Yan responded nonchalantly, “Gu poison.”

Jin’s eyes widened at the mention of Gu poison—not the strongest, but certainly one of the most malicious toxins known. Its creation was grotesque: venomous insects, snakes, and frogs were left in a small container for years, fighting and consuming each other until only the most toxic survived. This survivor was then used to create a pair of larvae through a dark art.

The male Gu, once ingested, made it impossible for the host to disobey the person who held its female counterpart. To resist meant to suffer pain from the toxin, a pain said to be more terrifying than falling into hell itself.

Jin clutched his throat, desperately trying to regurgitate the Gu, but it was to no avail; the creature refused to come out.

“If it were so easy to expel, it wouldn’t be called a vile poison,” Yan remarked, watching Jin’s futile attempts.

Jin looked at Yan in disbelief. “I heard the art of Gu was lost…”

Indeed, the potency of Gu had been the subject of extensive research, coveted even by the Special Task Force for its potential. However, all they had found were brief records of its creation and effects; the crucial art was nowhere to be found.

And now, the newly appointed enforcer possessed this lost art!

Yan watched Jin’s confusion and, with a slight pinch of his fingers…

Throb!

…a searing pain engulfed Jin’s head, a torment too intense for even a man accustomed to torture.

“Is this just a taste of what’s to come?” Yan asked.

Jin gritted his teeth, enduring the agony.

“You’d best not think of suicide. The larva inside you is quite perceptive,” Yan continued.

“How cruel!” Jin exclaimed.

“Should a Special Task Force agent really say that? Compared to the atrocities you’ve committed, this is trivial,” Yan dismissed with a smirk.

“But it’s not all bad. I’m merely cutting out the cancer from the empire, and that includes your Special Task Force.”

At Yan’s words, Jin’s head shot up.

“What did you just say?”

“There’s cancer in the Special Task Force?”

“There’s a traitor?”

“Yes. And I can prove it, though it may take some time.”

A whirlwind of shock, doubt, and horror swirled in Jin’s eyes. He would never have believed such claims without proof, but Yan’s assurance of evidence left him in turmoil.

Seeing Jin’s reaction, Yan was certain.

‘Got him.’

Jin was unique; he pledged allegiance not to the Task Force Leader but to the empire itself. Unlike other agents who blindly followed orders, Jin would turn his back on the Task Force if it meant protecting the empire. And with his unparalleled skills in investigation and reconnaissance, he was a valuable asset to recruit.

“Why don’t you believe it? That there’s someone in the Task Force bleeding the empire dry?”

“Watch your words. Even if you are an enforcer, you cannot insult the Task Force like this,” Jin growled.

“Can’t insult the Task Force?” Yan chuckled, thinking Jin should be aware of the situation, given his important role.

“Do you really not know about the ‘Destroyer Project’ created by the Task Force’s own cancer?”

Jin frowned, never having heard of such a project. The only ongoing project he knew of was the ‘Dragon Seed Project,’ aimed at gathering and nurturing talents across the continent.

Yan’s sly smile hinted at an unsettling truth.

“…What is that?”

Yan, seeing Jin’s softened stance, grinned.

“It’s an experiment that spits on the promise made by the founding emperor when he established Cabalan. He vowed to create a nation by humans, for humans, without resorting to the unethical practices used by other races on humans.”

The ‘Dragon Seed Project’ had faced fierce opposition when it was first introduced, as it threatened to breach the emperor’s first promise.

“But the ‘Destroyer Project’ is tantamount to outright ignoring that promise.”

Yan’s eyes darkened.

“The Special Task Force is now conducting human experiments, using children to create biological weapons.”

At those words…

“It can’t be.”

Jin’s eyes widened in horror.

Human experimentation, especially on children, was one of the most severely punished crimes in the empire.

* * *

After receiving shocking news from Yan, Jin walked out of the mine with a heavy heart.

Yan quietly observed Jin’s retreating figure.

It was then that Momon, who had been silent in his pocket, made an appearance.

“The back of a man in despair,” Momon remarked.

Yan nodded in agreement. “He has never crossed the line of morality. And yet, he believes that the more blood stains his hands, the closer he gets to creating a better nation…”

Momon snorted at this. “Those who consider themselves just are often deluded. They think they can change the world with violence.”

“True change requires a shift in perception, not fear induced by violence,” Momon added wisely.

“Nicely said,” Yan complimented, causing Momon’s jawbone to rattle.

“Anyway, about that Gu poison… Did you make him believe he swallowed that grotesque toxin?”

Momon seemed to know about the Gu poison as well.

“Oh, do you know how it’s made?”

“I do, but why bother with such filthy poison?”

“It’s good to know,” Yan replied, as Momon stared at him and then shook his skeletal head, seemingly more amiable since their encounter with Eamon.

Then, curiosity seemed to strike Momon, and he asked, “But was there really a need to use illusion magic? He seemed completely taken in by your silver tongue.”

Yan chuckled at Momon’s words.

Jin believed he had swallowed the Gu poison, but…

-Momon, teach me the spell for illusion magic.

The swirling darkness, the pitch-black larva, the vile taste, and the terrible pain Jin felt were all nothing but illusions.

Yan followed the path Jin had taken. “This is skill.”

Persuasion isn’t easy with words alone. But when threats are subtly mixed in, the chances of swaying someone increase significantly.

Thus, Yan first suppressed Jin’s will with threats and then offered tantalizing information to successfully recruit him.

“And it’s also insurance.”

It was a safeguard, in case Jin had other ideas.

“You do lead a tiresome life,” Momon commented, and Yan just smirked.