Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 539: Cleaning Up After the Work Is Always More Annoying

The regressor’s recovery speed was monstrous.

Just yesterday, she couldn’t even sit up.

Today, she was already standing and limping around outside.

I clicked my tongue in disbelief.

"Your healing is downright monstrous."

"You’re one to talk."

...Fair point.

"But it’s not that impressive. Martial artists trained in Internal Healing can handle internal injuries more easily. Plus, I had some high-grade elixirs stored away."

"Maybe it’s Azzy’s saliva. It has healing properties. That must be it. So you were the one who used that spoon yesterday."

"S-Shut up! Don’t remind me! You could’ve used it too, you know!"

She barked back at me, but the sudden dizziness threw her off balance.

She instinctively reached out for something to grab onto—except there was nothing nearby.

Should I catch her?

...Or should I just let her fall?

I didn’t really care either way. A bit of kindness wouldn’t hurt, but if I did catch her, she might start overthinking things again. And that would just be a pain in my ass.

But raising my favorability score with her might be worth it.

Fine.

I sighed and reached out—

—But Azzy got there first.

She swiftly pressed herself against the regressor, supporting her with her back and head.

The regressor steadied herself, leaning against Azzy like a crutch.

"Thanks, Azzy..."

Then, she turned and met my gaze.

Her eyes flickered with momentary hesitation.

"Uh... thanks to you too, Hughes?"

Great. All that effort for nothing.

I glared at Azzy, who had unknowingly stolen my moment.

"Damn it, Azzy. You cost me a favor point."

"Woof? Me? You’ve got some nerve blaming me!"

While I grumbled at Azzy, the regressor chuckled to herself.

‘So, he actually was going to help me? He always acts like everything’s under control, but... Hughes has his cute moments too.’

...Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It’s all for the favorability.

Remember the days of being a host, Hughes.

Drop the ego. Drop the pride.

Give the customer what they want.

Of course, the problem with this customer is that she’s so fickle, I can’t even tell what she wants.

But at least she’s simple.

She reacts instinctively, so I don’t need to overthink my approach.

‘Come to think of it, Hughes still thinks I’m a man, doesn’t he? This is just pure goodwill, right? If it’s anything else, then I’d have to question his taste...’

I KNOW.

I know you’re a regressor.

I know you’re disguising yourself as a man.

I know you don’t even realize that I know.

God, I wish someone could read my mind and tell her already.

That way, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this bullshit.

"Enough slacking. Get to work. You’ve been lying around, and now there’s a mountain of crap to deal with."

"Work? We already defeated Fenrir. What else is there to do?"

"That’s what I said too, but people want assurance. When you back up their decisions with authority and power, it strengthens their resolve."

"Not like I can do much. Fine. I’ll go after I clean up."

"Wait... you bathe?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Of course, I bathe. If I have no choice, I can use martial techniques to cleanse myself, but otherwise, I wash normally."

Martial artists with Internal Cleansing techniques can purge dust and sweat from their bodies.

Those trained in Internal Healing can practically shed a layer of dead skin whenever they need to.

But feeling clean is another matter entirely.

No amount of martial arts can replace the sensation of washing off blood, sweat, and grime with fresh water.

Hmm. Maybe now’s the time to start exposing some of her lies.

The goal is to make her admit that she’s a regressor.

But she’s got so many layers of secrecy wrapped around her that she’ll never just come out with the truth.

I need to peel away the outer layers first.

And honestly?

The fact that she’s a woman is practically meaningless at this point.

Even if I reveal it, it just slightly increases the odds that she’s the Saintess.

So, might as well tear that secret open.

Casually, I offered:

"Want me to wash you?"

"PFFFT—COUGH, COUGH!"

She nearly choked to death.

Gasping and sputtering, she shot me a horrified glare.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING?!"

"You’re still struggling to move. What if you slip? I’m offering to help."

"ARE YOU INSANE?! That’s not something you just SAY!"

"Why not? We’re both men."

"......Huh?"

‘Oh. Right. I am still in disguise.’

See?

You don’t even think about it.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

If you’re going to commit to the disguise, at least put in some effort.

Or just drop the act entirely.

"We might not be best friends, but we’re at least close enough to help each other out, right? You need your bandages changed, too."

"N-No, I can manage—"

"Even if you force yourself, it’s not like you can reach the wounds on your back. Let me help—"

"WAIT! WHY ARE YOU TAKING OFF YOUR CLOTHES?!"

"Why wouldn’t I? I’ll get wet if I don’t undress."

"PUT THEM BACK ON!"

"Oh, I see. You’re embarrassed. Fine, I’ll leave mine on. But you still have to undress."

"I’M NOT UNDRESSING EITHER! NO WAY!"

Her reaction wasn’t just rejection—it was outright panic.

If she really were a man, this whole conversation would’ve been awkward as hell.

At this point, why even bother with the disguise anymore?

I pressed a little harder.

"Why are you freaking out? If we’re both guys, there’s nothing to be uncomfortable about."

"Because—!"

The stage was set.

She’s a reactive person.

Slow, deliberate build-ups don’t work on her.

She’s the type that needs to be poked to get a reaction.

So come on.

Drop the act already.

But instead of admitting the truth, she blurted out something completely unexpected.

"BECAUSE I HATE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT ME!"

...What?

"The hell does that mean?!"

“That look? Even if you were a woman, I wouldn’t look at you like that! Do you really think that as a mind reader, I’d be affected just by seeing a little skin? I was just giving you a chance to drop your failed disguise, but why does the conversation keep going off track?”

“Stop trying to make me seem like the weird one and realize that you are the weird one here!”

“You are being weird! You never care about this kind of thing, but now, out of nowhere, you suddenly offer to bathe me?! That’s suspicious!”

“I never said anything before because I assumed you were handling it yourself! You, on the other hand, could’ve just said, ‘Thanks, but I’ll do it ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) myself,’ instead of having a full-blown meltdown about it!”

“Then why are you so obsessed with my body?!”

“I’m not obsessed!”

Goddamn it. This isn’t the reaction I wanted.

Since when was mind reading this useless? I sighed, waving my hand dismissively.

“Fine, fine. I get it. Just hurry up and wash already. You stink.”

“I was going to!”

The regressor, still unsteady, staggered toward the bathroom. Then, just before stepping inside, she suddenly turned back and shot me a glare.

“Don’t peek.”

“AAAAARRRGH! WHY THE HELL WOULD I LOOK?! EVEN IF YOU BEGGED ME, I WOULDN’T!”

Why the hell is she still pretending to be a man while getting all flustered about this? What is she even trying to do?

Actually, if I had to guess, it’s probably because she doesn’t want to be suspected of being the Saintess. Or maybe she’s just comfortable with our current dynamic and doesn’t want to shake things up.

Or maybe—just maybe—she’s embarrassed to admit the truth after holding onto her disguise for so long.

But you’re not the type to overthink things, damn it!

Just say it already!

At this rate, I’m going to blurt it out by accident!

Ugh... It’s going to be a long road before she admits the truth.

“Hey, Azzy. You wanna take a bath instead?”

Azzy immediately shook her head, looking disgusted.

“Woof. We beasts don’t wash with water like humans do. We shed our fur instead. Unless we’re swimming, we don’t need to soak ourselves.”

...I had a lot to say about that, but I was too tired to bother.

I’ll just throw her into the tub later.

It was impossible for things to completely settle down in just five days.

With both Fenrir and the Mountain Lord gone, Ende still felt like a hive that had been poked and prodded—tense, chaotic, and restless.

The people mourned their dead, raged over their losses, and armed themselves with whatever weapons they could find, convinced they had to defend themselves.

The streets were constantly filled with disputes.

Fights broke out almost daily.

But despite all the battles, Ende’s order still held.

Not just because of the Obelisk Soldiers and the Beast Faction—

But because something even more important had emerged.

“Because they’ve found a common enemy.”

The mayor of Ende, Treavor, looked haggard and worn, yet he remained at his desk, working tirelessly.

By all rights, he should have been resting at his age.

But given the state of things, he couldn’t afford to rest.

And he was the kind of man who valued the situation over his own well-being.

“It has now been revealed to all that the Principality attempted to reclaim this land while Ende was at its weakest. The beastfolk who were ambushed while trying to rescue the buried are consumed with rage and calling for vengeance. There are even extreme voices suggesting we slaughter every Black Tiger soldier injured by the Mountain Lord and send their heads back.”

“Are you actually going to do that?”

“If it were up to me alone, I would.”

...But he wasn’t doing it.

Treavor was nothing if not honest.

“That day, Ende should have been destroyed.

“The King of Wolves, the Black Tiger Army, and the Mountain Lord—

“Any one of them could have ended us.

“The only reason we survived such absurd odds...

“...was sheer luck.”

Treavor turned toward me, the regressor, and Azzy, bowing his head slightly.

“And you three were that luck.

“On behalf of all the ears and tails of Ende, I thank you.”

“Tch. I didn’t do it for thanks.”

“Same here. Instead of words, I’d prefer material compensation.”

“Woof! Free?! No way!”

The regressor gave me a long, exasperated look.

What?

What’s wrong with asking for a reward?

You might not care because you’re just going to regress again anyway, but Azzy and I actually have to keep living in this timeline.

Small rewards are what keep us going.

Treavor nodded, seemingly unsurprised.

“I have already prepared something, though I’m not sure if it will satisfy you....”

With that, he brought out three wooden boxes.

Oh?

He actually came prepared?

As expected of a seasoned politician.

Treavor opened the first box, which had a ribbon tied around it.

Inside was a large bone, tightly wrapped in cowhide.

“This is a small token from our artisans—handmade dog chew treats.”

“WOOF! WOOF WOOF WOOF!”

Azzy snatched the chew toy, hugging it tightly and immediately gnawing on it with an ecstatic expression.

The reward might have been small, but its value wasn’t in what it was—

It was in how much joy it brought to the recipient.

And judging by the way Azzy was wagging her tail like a propeller, she was very happy.

...I swear, if the other two boxes also contain dog treats, this will be hilarious.

Unfortunately, my expectations were quickly shattered.

When Treavor opened the second box, a strong herbal scent drifted into the air.

Inside was a bottle of thick, dark brown elixir.