Chapter 22

“…Just a moment.”

“Why is that?”

“Evans? You said Evans, right? A moment ago, you clearly mentioned it was Evans’s book, didn’t you?”

“That’s right, but what’s so surprising about it? Aren’t you a reincarnator?”

Surprising? Of course it is! Who the heck is Evans!

An ancient mage who studied the flow of time across the continent and the only unparalleled time traveler throughout history! Someone who traveled back and forth between thousands of years in the past and an ultra-advanced future, leaving traces in every era!

Evans is famously someone whose true nature even the gods don’t understand. All we know is that he freely crossed the boundaries of time and left bizarre books under the name of Author Evans.

Frankly, it’s not unreasonable for King to talk about it like it’s no big deal. Evans’s absurd genius only started making sense when his actions five hundred years later were revealed to be as connected as beads on a string. Before then, he was merely treated as some sort of immortal who had lived a very long time while studying time.

Anyway, this is still an incredible find. If this is a book written by Evans, especially one titled <The Flower That Eats Time>, it must contain information that could greatly help me, someone who has traveled back in time. Or maybe not.

BOOM… BOOM…

With heavy footsteps, Frankenstein appeared from the shadows. In his clumsy hands, he held a delicate book with surprising care.

Using a magnifying technique akin to zooming in through the darkness, I could finally make out the title on the cover: *The Flower That Eats Time*, by Evans. Even dimwitted Frankenstein managed to bring the right book.

“Oh, hand it over quickly.”

As King extended his hand to take the book, Frankenstein unexpectedly pulled it away behind his back, which was oddly sophisticated for such a brutish gesture.

“Meat… barter… grrr…”

Oh my, young Frankenstein knows words like “barter.” Impressive.

Five hundred years later when I met him, he was just a dumb brute. How did this guy end up like that?

“What? Meat? I’ll give it to you later. Let’s look at the book first.”

“Trickery… not the first time… our master is cunning…”

“…Tch, looks like you’ll have to do some work after all.”

King clicked his tongue and looked at me. What? Why are you looking at me? Just give him the meat already.

“If you want something, you need to offer something in return. Since my body made of vegetables can’t provide meat, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

“What?”

“Meat.”

With a curt reply, King handed me a sharp silver knife from somewhere. It gleamed faintly even in the dark, like a crescent moon replacing the absent full moon here.

Why is he giving it to me?

“Show your determination.”

“…Ah.”

I get it now. Since King’s veggie body doesn’t have any meat to spare, he wants me to cut off a piece of *my* flesh and give it to Frankenstein.

“I don’t like that idea.”

“Hmm?”

“Pain comes in different types, you know. Like… how shall I put it? The aesthetics of suffering? For example, having all your teeth break or your eyeballs pop out might feel good, but cutting off chunks of my own body? Not fun at all.”

“Your reasoning sounds strange… but if that’s what you think, I won’t argue. Are you sure you won’t regret this? Evans’s book could be quite helpful to you.”

“Why would I regret it? At the end of the day, all I need to do is get some meat, right?”

I said confidently. King gave me a curious look, his emotionless eyes scanning me thoughtfully.

“Ah, I see. Quite the leap in thinking. Your approach is admirable.”

“It’s essential to survive in this harsh world.”

After holding the knife with two fingers, I boldly approached Frankenstein. Too focused on the prospect of meat, he paid no attention to me.

When I smoothly extended the knife toward him, King stared at me in shock. Why? Didn’t you say to get the meat?

There’s a perfectly edible hunk of meat right here. Why not use it? Besides, this guy practically regenerates from most wounds anyway. Might as well consider him emergency rations, right?

SWISH—

With that mindset, I effortlessly sliced off a chunk of Frankenstein’s thigh. The grotesque hunk of meat detached with a sizzling sound. Doesn’t matter since I’m not eating it anyway.

“Here, eat.”

“Huh?”

“Doesn’t it look delicious? This is premium stuff.”

“Ugh… raw meat… probably tastes bad…”

“Tch, what kind of monster are you if you’re picky about raw meat?”

That’s right, this guy used to be a noble knight.

“Don’t worry. This is called ‘Yukhoe.’ It’s meant to be eaten raw.”

“Yukhoe…?”

“Just trust me and try it. Eating it won’t kill you, will it?”

“Gr… Gr…!”

Reluctantly, Frankenstein ate the chunk of his own thigh that I fed him and handed me the book by Evans.

“Water… water…”

“Is it tasty?”

“Ugh… it’s awful… I’ve been scammed…”

“It’s fine. Everyone gets scammed sometimes. Grow strong like tough grass amidst the storm, Frankenstein.”

“…You sound ridiculous saying that at five years old.”

“Hehe, the world itself is full of ridiculous things.”

Throwing out a silly joke, I ignored the disgruntled Frankenstein chewing on his own meat and turned to leave. My job here is done; it’s time to go.

“Ah, that reminds me. Did I almost forget something?”

“What is it?”

“Do you happen to have a shotgun? A pistol would also work.”

“Shotgun? Pistol?”

“Ah, they haven’t been invented in this era yet. Makes sense. Pistols were developed much later in Kingdoms. Anyway, can’t ask for what doesn’t exist, so never mind. But since I’ve already used this knife, I’ll just take it with me. It’s pretty sharp, so it’s useful. Is that okay?”

I spun the knife around my fingers casually. The fairly large blade danced skillfully along my arm.

“…Since I’ve already given you the best stuff, there’s no reason not to let you have this too, but aren’t you taking a bit too much? Pretty soon, even this kid might get taken from me.”

King pointed at Frankenstein with a dismissive wave. Hmm, how did he read my mind so easily? Is King’s intuition really that sharp? Guess I’d better keep quiet for now.

“Nah, not really. Demons need a conscience, right?”

“Is that so? Alright then. Is there anything else you need to see?”

“Yeah, I’m good. See ya later.”

Waving cheerfully, I watched as King and Frankenstein disappeared into the shadows. My way out should be… just retracing my steps, right?

I glanced around briefly. Earlier, I spotted something interesting.

Once I was sure King and Frankenstein were gone, I quietly approached the item I’d noticed before. Among the cluttered junk scattered across the floor, one stood out:

‘A smiling mask.’

A mask with a grin so wide its corners reached its ears, slightly eerie. Its blank spaces except for the eyes, nose, and mouth were painted pure white, making it even more appealing.

Carefully picking it up with gloved hands, I tucked it into my coat. The smiling face nestled against my chest. The knife, being smaller than the mask, went into my pocket.

Maybe King wasn’t such a generous tree after all, showering me with goodies like this. Of course, the mask was stolen, but thievery is one of the seven virtues of demons, isn’t it?

Feeling good, my steps naturally became lighter. Skipping happily, I exited King’s mansion with a spring in my step.

*****

“Hmph…”

A vegetable-and-fruit demon sighed while gazing at the ornate ceiling.

White smoke curled up, decorating the air. Smoke impossible to create with just a sigh—it was cigar smoke.

The crimson ember of the cigarette flickered, splitting the darkness. The South Duke, awakened after a long rest, looked unhealthily gaunt. His fruits had faded, his vegetables dried and twisted, enough to ruin anyone’s appetite.

Of course, there was no such “person” present.

‘Reincarnation…’

The South Duke’s mind was unusually tangled after centuries of life.

Having lived nearly millions of years, he’d seen countless creatures. He’d witnessed the birth and death of civilizations dozens of times, the rise and fall of species hundreds of times. He’d observed the chaos of Demon Realm’s power struggles, the changing conquerors of the Continent, and the destruction of the world by wars among gods—all captured in the weary eyes of the South Duke.

There were many kinds of people. Reincarnators born with unusual memories, possessors arriving from other dimensions with their minds intact, interdimensional travelers bringing unheard-of powers from unknown realms.

But among them, those who survived the chaotic battlefield where all these forces clashed, emerging victorious in the end, were always the same.

‘Those who travel backward in time.’

The child who just visited, a regressive.

No matter how powerful or knowledgeable someone may be, knowing the future gives an incomprehensible advantage. Everyone moves within the palm of a regressive’s hand, and regressives move faster than anyone else.

This was why the South Duke had abandoned active living. Living fiercely inevitably creates enemies, and no one knows if one of those enemies will turn out to be a regressive. Unlike others, regressives don’t follow the absolute rule of “kill them, and it’s over.”

The South Duke firmly believed this was his secret to longevity.

‘Could this world now… belong to that child’s grasp…?’

Huff…

Lazily slumped in a plush sofa, the South Duke continued smoking his cigar. Each puff encapsulated his complex thoughts, dissipating into the air.

‘Or…’

The South Duke slowly turned his head. His tomato-like eyes flashed sharply.

“I’m not entirely sure if I responded correctly. Though I did pass on the few things you told me.”

“…”

“My Lord Demon King.”

‘That regressive might also be within the palm of this young Demon King’s world.’

All the South Duke could see was pitch-black darkness. But for a moment, the fire from his cigar illuminated it, revealing a young demon standing silently like a wardrobe.

There stood a young demon, seemingly around five or six years old. On top of his small frame, surprisingly large red horns protruded. Black sunglasses above his crimson irises added a stylish flair.

“Gr… I want meat… tender meat…”

“Hey, Frankenstein. That’s not someone you can treat rudely.”

“Frank… I’m hungry… tricked and hungry…”

“You fool, even if you’re ignorant, you need to know your place.”

Scolding his loyal but foolish subordinate, the South Duke glanced at the Demon King. The rigid expression, hidden behind the red sunglasses, completely obscured the Demon King’s intentions.

So stoic that even as a child, the Demon King refused to respond to the South Duke’s words. Despite his youthful appearance, the South Duke felt an inexplicable chill from this mysterious presence.