A Regressor's Bucket List

Chapter 198 : Declaration of the Beastkin Nation (3)

Having brought the slaves from the prison to the Guild House, Tom immediately turned back without any rest.

This was, of course, because Valencia and Cheong-yi were waiting, and also because roughly three-quarters of the Beastkin slaves were still imprisoned.

Although he could have taken a breather after such a long journey, he hastily left before the handover was complete.

Still, judging by his expression, he seemed quite pleased with the current situation.

It was difficult to pinpoint whether he felt exhilarated because he had killed the Market Maker who had tormented the Beastkin, or if it was a sense of satisfaction from having rescued the suffering Beastkin.

In any case, it seemed he was quite content with what he was doing now.

One could tell just by watching his retreating footsteps.

How much lighter his body had become compared to the heavy, blood-soaked steps he took after emerging from the Darkest Dungeon.

"...I knew it, but it's still serious. These awful bastards."

"Indeed."

"This can't simply be explained by exhaustion from a long journey..."

"Well, given their circumstances. Let's start with what we can do."

As expected, most of the Beastkin who arrived at the Guild House were not in a normal state.

Not only was their treatment in prison poor, but most of the Beastkin had also been administered illegal drugs to prevent them from becoming fully mature adults.

Their bodies weren't completely stuck in childhood, but they lacked the natural physical durability enhancement and the unique combat instincts that Beastkin gain upon reaching adulthood.

Furthermore, they were missing various elements that made Beastkin, Beastkin.

Would it be accurate to say they had developed a kind of 'disability'?

It was quite different from mere nutritional deficiency.

Where thick muscle lines should have been, gaunt bones remained, and a gloomy atmosphere prevailed instead of the cheerful disposition characteristic of Beastkin.

However, there was no intention of leaving them as they were.

Much time had passed, and the original Beastkin culture and lineage had faded significantly, making it virtually impossible to restore them to the ideal state they had during the Beastkin Nation era.

But achieving a certain degree of recovery, rather than complete restoration, was not impossible.

"...I'll take it from here, partner."

"Alright."

Fortunately, among us was a Beastkin who had managed Beastkin slaves for a long time.

Jerry, who had been buying and managing various Beastkin slaves even before meeting me, knew perfectly well how to treat them and what they needed.

He had also made some progress in his research regarding the lost nature of the Beastkin.

Jerry, who had just returned from an outing after a long time, brought a bottle of concentrated liquid.

"...It's a drug that dilutes the growth-inhibiting effects. If administered, they should be able to return to their original state to some extent."

"...Then, will they fully recover?"

He shook his head.

"...No, it won't. Growth inhibitors are direct-acting drugs that directly affect the endocrine system and Mana Circuits, so it's impossible to erase the toxicity of years of concentrated drugs all at once. If we did that, other abnormalities would likely appear in their bodies."

"..."

"This drug merely enhances the recovery resilience of the endocrine system and Mana Circuits. It helps develop the body's self-healing ability to counteract growth inhibitors. It has the function of shortening a recovery that would naturally take ten years to about three years."

"Oh."

"Should I try it too? I've always wished I were about three centimeters taller."

"...Considering the development cost, one drop is worth a house."

"That makes it even more appealing, doesn't it?"

"...Beastkin and humans are distinctly different species. Their bodily systems have different mechanisms, so there would be unconfirmed side effects."

Since Jerry had been experimenting with and personally applying the drug for decades, its efficacy and safety were trustworthy, but they couldn't inject the drug immediately.

The reason was simple.

The Beastkin who came from the prison themselves had a strong aversion to drugs.

It seemed they had been continuously subjected to drug injections until recently, feeling not just aversion but almost terror.

No matter how good the intention, injecting drugs when the individual refused was no different from what the Market Maker and Beastkin slave traders did.

Therefore, we decided to discuss the drugs after a certain period of time.

It seemed that a bit more time would be needed to truly begin the recovery process.

"..."

However.

That time didn't seem like it would be too long.

Fortunately, we had a buffer that could somewhat alleviate their aversion.

"—Don't worry too much. We were all the same at first..."

The Beastkin whom Jerry had hidden within the Order Territory and bought from slave black markets every year.

Even without being asked, they were the first to greet the other Beastkin, and that alone seemed to bring a considerable sense of peace to the Beastkin who had come from prison.

It seemed that their shared background as former slaves played a significant role, and since there were even quite a few familiar faces among them, they appeared to be much more at ease.

Their faces, which had been full of fear upon arrival, even showed faint smiles during their conversations.

One cause for concern was that these weren't all the Beastkin slaves who would be coming to the Guild House.

As Tom had mentioned, those who arrived in the first wave were merely the slaves from the closest prison.

Three more prisons remained.

Furthermore, considering that this particular prison was in a northern continental stronghold, where the circulation of slaves was lowest, the number of Beastkin expected to arrive in the future would certainly be greater, not fewer, than this.

If they flocked in quickly, there was concern whether the relatively smaller number of existing Beastkin could physically accommodate them.

'—That wasn't something I could control.'

Worrying about it wouldn't provide an answer anyway.

I wasn't sure how, but I hoped that Valencia would somehow find a solution.

After all, that was why we had sought out Valencia first and foremost.

It seemed likely that by the time the coronation ceremony was held, some method would emerge.

"Is the tally finished, Eliya?"

Regarding the incoming Beastkin, the task entrusted to Eliya was the tally.

How many had arrived, which species they belonged to, and what their age groups were.

Although not openly stated, what we intended to re-establish was none other than the Beastkin Nation.

I thought we should have a grasp of that much.

"Ah, yes! It still needs some organizing, but the verification is mostly complete. I'll tidy it up and report back to you."

Given the sheer number, it should have taken considerable time, but Eliya handled the task quite quickly and accurately.

This was because they had already divided the Territory into sections beforehand.

They hadn't actually drawn visible lines to separate them, but they had grouped the existing Beastkin by their respective species to form villages.

On the surface, it still looked haphazard, but in reality, the classification system had already established a certain framework.

Therefore, from Eliya's perspective, all she had to do was verify the Beastkin who had entered the existing framework.

Well, completing even that in such a short time required a certain level of cleverness, so it was still a job well done by Eliya.

"Roughly what's the total number?"

"Uh... I haven't double-checked yet. But based on my calculations so far, excluding the existing Beastkin, it's roughly 20,000. So, about 27,000 people. And including the Beastkin from outside that Jerry mentioned, it would be around 30,000."

"...Thirty thousand, huh."

It was a larger number than expected.

This was true given that our target number was 50,000, and considering that all these Beastkin came from just one-quarter of the stronghold prisons—and the smallest one at that.

If we gathered the numbers from all the prisons, I thought it would easily reach 100,000.

And that wasn't even the end of it.

If, after the coronation ceremony, news spread that the Beastkin Nation had been established and that the last king of the Beastkin Nation, Allen Tigris III's lineage had survived and rebuilt the Beastkin Nation, then Beastkin hiding from slave hunters would surely come here, no matter how many.

Even if they didn't come immediately, I thought at least messengers would be sent, and if we absorbed them well, we might create something worthy of being called a 'power.'

Once we achieved that and acquired the status of a Guild, we could formally propose proactive measures for the complete abolition of slavery to the Order Territory, and naturally, in that process, we could also absorb the Beastkin slaves circulating outside the stronghold prisons.

Originally, we would have been checked by the Market Maker during that process, and the Order would not have easily granted Guild status.

'—Since both issues were resolved.'

The Market Maker was dead, and the UMC, which held considerable power within the Order, was backing us.

Of course, it was unclear to what extent they would help, and what they expected in return, as their support wasn't limitless.

But at least while Emily was here, I expected them to maintain a favorable attitude, so I thought the current situation would persist until the Beastkin Nation's reconstruction was somewhat on track.

'—More than I expected.'

Things were going too smoothly, more than I expected.

The Market Maker's death wasn't in my plan, nor was a quick encounter with the UMC, and meeting Emily this soon was also unforeseen.

Things I had expected to be more difficult were unfolding smoothly, as if someone were helping.

And usually, when I felt this way, something of an opposite nature would occur.

Perhaps 'regression to the mean' would make it understandable?

If things went better than expected, then things would also go worse than expected.

And before long, I realized my thought wasn't wrong.

"...Partner. I brought the newspaper as you asked. Did you know something?"

"...Hmm?"

Rustle—

On the front page of the newspaper Jerry, who had been outside, handed to me in a low voice.

"...Look at this."

"..."

[Saintess, Execution Date Set.]

Because shocking news was emblazoned there.