The Regressor Wants to Become a Hero

Chapter 132

Stepping out of the tavern, Ian glanced up at the sky. The countless stars illuminated the dark night.

It was late. Most people would already be asleep by now, but Gawon, a city nicknamed “The City of Eternal Lights,” was different.

Shifting his gaze from the alley to the streets, Ian saw a crowd of people still bustling about.

The atmosphere was even livelier than during the day, as mercenaries, having returned from their hunts, were out celebrating.

Wellington Winters was likely still working.

Suddenly, the back door creaked open, and Victor emerged. He wore a slightly eccentric coat and carried a black bag.

“Well then, shall we proceed?”

“Hmm…”

“Is something the matter?”

“Not really. It’s just unexpected that you’d personally escort me instead of sending an employee.”

“For someone special, on a special day, going to a special place, it’s only right to extend such courtesy. This is an exception. I don’t usually step in like this.”

Victor’s cheeky response made Ian chuckle involuntarily.

Though it wasn’t unpleasant to hear, Ian couldn’t shake the thought that this favor wasn’t entirely altruistic. Victor, the manager of Midnight, must have had an ulterior motive.

‘Could he be seeking a connection with Berger?’

That wouldn’t amount to much, though. The family likely already had its own trusted contacts.

Unless Victor could prove superior in information-gathering, such a relationship wouldn’t last long.

Still, Ian decided it wasn’t worth dwelling on for now.

With a bright smile, he replied, “I’m honored.”

He followed Victor, who led the way to the end of the alley.

The streets were lively with drunk patrons laughing as they passed by, and shops stayed brightly lit, welcoming customers even at this late hour.

However, their destination wasn’t in the bustling district. They ventured through a narrow path that became quieter with every step. Finally, they arrived at an old, worn-looking shop.

There was no visible sign, but the light spilling through the closed door indicated it was still in business.

“This is the place,” Victor said, opening the door.

Inside, the shop was neat and organized, a stark contrast to its exterior.

Various fabrics were displayed on the walls and shelves, but there were many empty spaces.

This indicated a lack of inventory, likely the result of failed trade ventures.

Naturally, there were no customers, leaving the atmosphere silent—almost oppressively so.

As Ian looked further inside, he spotted a middle-aged man seated at a desk.

‘Wellington Winters…?’

The man sported a thick beard and small glasses. He was engrossed in a thick book while absently handling a piece of fabric.

Oblivious to their arrival, he worked intently with scissors in hand, fully immersed in his task.

“Wellington.”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Victor removed his hat and called out to him.

There was no response. Wellington, wearing a stubborn expression, continued to cut the fabric with unwavering focus.

It was an impressive level of concentration, but knowing his story, Ian could tell it was his way of escaping from painful memories.

Victor walked further inside and called out again.

“Wellington!”

“…Victor?”

Finally, Wellington lifted his head.

“I’ve brought a guest.”

“The mercenary beside you?”

Setting down the scissors, Wellington stepped forward. His tired eyes bore a resemblance to Eor’s.

Wellington’s expression softened as he greeted Ian with a gentle smile.

Just moments earlier, he had seemed like a grumpy old man, but now he radiated the warmth of a kind neighbor.

“Well, this is a surprise. Victor personally bringing a guest—this must be someone special.”

He was chatty and straightforward, standing before Ian with a frame that hinted at a past as a mercenary. His imposing build seemed more suited to wielding axes and shields than working with textiles.

“Whoever you are, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Wellington Winters. I deal in various textiles. I like to think I’ve gathered the finest, though you could likely find similar elsewhere in Gawon. If there’s something you need, let me know. If I have it, I’ll offer it at a fair price.”

Shaking Wellington’s extended hand, Ian replied, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Ian Berger.”

Ian rarely revealed his family name, but this time was an exception. Upon hearing it, Wellington’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Berger? You’re far more distinguished than I anticipated.”

“Please, speak freely.”

“I couldn’t possibly. One cannot disregard rank and status.”

Wellington spoke with a slight bow, his tone tinged with tension.

“It’s better to converse comfortably for now,” Ian suggested.

“Hmm.”

Looking conflicted, Wellington glanced at Victor.

“Go on, Wellington. The young master prefers it that way.”

“Well, if that’s the case, forgive my earlier formality. I’ll speak freely from now on.”

“Let’s foster a stronger relationship, Wellington,” Victor added with a grin.

“Alright, come this way. It’s a small shop, but there’s a space where we can talk,” Wellington said, leading them to a table cluttered with tools and fabrics.

He swiftly cleared the table by sweeping everything to the side, creating an empty surface in moments.

“Please wait here. I’ll bring some refreshments.”

Returning shortly, Wellington presented a tray of neatly arranged snacks, accompanied by tea that filled the room with a fragrant aroma.

Sinking into his chair with a weary sigh, Wellington asked, “So, what brings the young master of Berger here?”

“I wish to invest in you,” Ian stated plainly.

“In me?” Wellington sounded surprised. “Well, that’s… wonderful to hear, but surely you’ve heard the rumors about me? I’m a magnet for misfortune.”

“I’m aware. They say you’ve encountered Outer Doors opening during your trade expeditions multiple times. Even donations to the Pantheon and blessings haven’t worked.”

“Exactly. It’s not as if I carry a cursed relic. It’s simply bad luck. They say once is coincidence, twice is inevitable, and three times is fate. Investing in me would only bring loss. Perhaps you’d be better off finding another trader. I’m hardly worthy of being called a merchant now.”

Wellington sighed heavily, his voice laden with regret.

“There are others in Gawon dealing in textiles. They’d be better choices.”

Ian chuckled, prompting Wellington to frown in discomfort. However, he didn’t ask why Ian was laughing.

Meeting Wellington’s gaze, Ian spoke slowly, “Don’t you find it regretful to give up like this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t start your trade without purpose. What happened to the passion and dreams you had at the beginning?”

Wellington’s eyes wavered, his expression briefly betraying a deep conflict. Lowering his head, he tapped the armrest of his chair.

“Purpose… passion… dreams… Heh. Yes, I had those once. But you see, reality is merciless. It’s cruel.”

“……”

“I poured everything I had into it. It was a trading expedition that lasted several months. But to see it all collapse twice, no, three times, right before my eyes—how could I possibly rise again? There was no one to blame. It was truly an act of God. That’s what a jinx is, isn’t it?”

“Hmm.”

“With the little I salvaged, I managed to scrape by. But over the course of three failures, I lost every bit of money I earned from over 20 years of hard work. I’m terrified—terrified of failing again. Even though Victor brought a benefactor to me, I have no confidence left. I can’t muster the will to embark on another long trade journey and come back.”

“Then don’t go on trading expeditions anymore.”

“……?”

“Don’t go. Instead, stay here….”

Ian looked down at the table. His eyes fell on the fabrics and scissors lying atop it.

“Why not try tailoring and making clothing? You seem to have the talent for it.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“I can tell. I’m somewhat skilled at reading people.”

“And if I stay here making clothes, who’s going to run the trading company?”

“Of course, you’ll have to delegate. Find others to do it for you. Instruct them on what to buy and where to sell. Yes, it’ll be cumbersome, and there will be plenty of work to do. But if you can’t personally take part in trading, then you’ll need to find trustworthy individuals to take on those responsibilities. If I had the time, I’d join the trade myself to show you that your misfortune can be overcome. Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”

“You believe in me?”

Ian nodded with certainty, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course. You didn’t fail because you lacked ability—you failed because of circumstances. As I said, I can tell just by looking. When I first heard the name Wellington Winters, I had a feeling. You can do this.”

Wellington let out a bitter laugh.

“So, you want to throw away your money?”

“No. I fully intend to get back every coin I invest in you. You can do it—here, in Gawon. Stay at your shop, expand it, and grow. Hire people and entrust the trading to them. Surely, you have trustworthy individuals? If they doubt you, use my name. Tell them the third son of Berger has invested in you. Convince them to take one last chance with you.”

“…….”

It was a bold statement, almost flippant, yet it seemed to strike a chord within Wellington.

He remained silent, deep in thought, his eyes closed.

“You really think… I can just avoid trading expeditions and be fine?”

“Isn’t that the case? Avoiding a jinx can be surprisingly simple. Just don’t do what brings it about.”

“That’s such a ridiculous argument….”

“I’ll give you a special gift.”

Ian pulled two gold coins from his pocket. Pressing them together, he ignited a flame at his fingertips and fused them into one. The coins melted under the intense heat and formed a single piece. Wellington watched with a puzzled expression.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a lucky coin. Flip it. If the front, the side with the portrait, comes up, then accept my investment and run your trading company.”

Ian flipped the coin into the air. It spun with a crisp sound before he caught it and placed it in Wellington’s hand. Wellington opened his fingers to reveal the emperor’s portrait.

He turned the coin over—another portrait. Wellington chuckled.

“That’s outrageous. Absolutely outrageous. I’ve approached nobles and merchants, asking for one last chance, but they all dismissed me as a cursed man. And now, just as I was about to give it all up, someone comes along and gives me hope.”

Wellington flipped the coin again. If he accepted this investment and ran his trading company, would he finally succeed this time?

‘Should I count a failure if the back comes up?’

He caught the coin on the back of his hand and covered it with his other. Of course, it would be the front.

But in this world, absurd things often happened. It wouldn’t be strange if something like that occurred now.

In the faint dread that the back might show, he lifted his hand. The emperor’s portrait stared back at him.

Wellington burst into laughter.

“Hahahahaha! This is incredible! Fine, then. It seems the heavens are offering me one more chance. I’ll take it!”

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