Reincarnated User Manual

Chapter 222: Barnacle (1)



Chapter 222: Barnacle (1)

After the rain, as if the day had cleared, the tension that felt like holding a bomb disappeared, and the space was filled with the calm sound of flowing water.

Splash—

Confirming that the barbarians were leaving, Shiron knelt down as if collapsing. Lucia, who was dazed, was startled and followed suit.

“What, what is it? Hey! Hey, hey!”

“Just… stay still. It will be over soon.”

“Oh, oh…”

Shiron, calming Lucia, took a deep breath and waited for the blessing to change.

Without anyone saying a word, Latera manipulated their souls.

From anger, focus, reaction, and vitality, their soul structure shifted to calm, resilience, patience, and the blessing of the multitude, like clockwork gears interlocking.

As soon as the blessing changed, their heartbeat slowed as if a sedative had been administered, allowing Shiron to proceed with the next action more smoothly.

“…What are you doing?”

“We need to find bullets and a gun.”

Ignoring his wet clothes, Shiron groped the ground. Lucia’s face showed confusion at the unfamiliar words.

First, he had claimed his name was Kyrie, then suddenly collapsed, and now he was crawling through the sewer like a mole cricket.

However, Lucia decided to help Shiron instead of questioning him immediately. Shiron didn’t seem to be joking, and she could ask for explanations later.

The Kyrie who prioritized her emotions and caused trouble was gone. Lucia felt proud of her slightly more mature self as she groped the ground.

However,

An unexpected obstacle made Lucia hesitate.

‘…What is a gun?’

It couldn’t be referring to pebbles. Although Lucia didn’t know the two unfamiliar words, it was clear that Shiron considered them important enough that not knowing would make her seem barbaric.

Wasn’t there a saying that keeping quiet was better than being clueless? Given she hadn’t shown a reliable side in the recent battle, Lucia wanted to appear dependable now.

Just then, Latera, who had released her spiritual form, spoke for Lucia.

“Hero, what is a bullet? I want to help too.”

Instead of answering, Shiron showed a crushed lead bullet.

“This is it.”

“…Weren’t you going to throw that away?”

“I was, but on second thought, it’s better to keep it. It doesn’t make sense that I’d struggle with something like a bullet. There must have been some trick.”

As the name “Reincarnation of the Sword Saint” suggests, the status of guns in this world was ambiguous. While there was a category for guns in the player’s weapon system, they were often deemed impractical.

Excluding the loading time, they were fast and, regardless of skill level, provided consistent power, making them good for early to mid-game use.

However, even in the mid-game, they were only effective against humans.

Guns were ineffective against apostles and demons. Unlike humans who could die from minor penetrating wounds, demons would not die unless their heart was gouged out or their head was severed.

Of course, increasing the caliber to blow off their head might work, but carrying a cannon was impractical, and it was better to train mana.

The many overlaps between “Reincarnation of the Sword Saint” and the current era made Shiron’s actions quite persuasive.

“Hmm, I didn’t think much about it since you spit them out like grape seeds.”

“…Indeed.”

Sighing, Shiron put the bullets in his inner pocket.

Squatting and searching for metal fragments reminded him of looking for shell casings in the army.

‘I need to moderate my bravado next time.’

Since there was no other reason for his earlier bravado to appear strong, Shiron had to chew over his regret and embarrassment.

“I found it!”

At that moment, a bright voice came from behind Shiron, who had been patting his aching back.

“This is it, right?”

“I found one too!”

Lucia proudly held out three lead bullets. Not to be outdone, Latera also held out one in her small hand.

With six lead bullets and a revolver, Shiron looked at them with a loving expression.

After finishing the search, the group headed above ground with aching bodies. They walked through the collapsed passage, avoiding the flowing filth and the slippery underground.

Unable to endure the stench, Latera was in spiritual form, making Shiron feel as if he was alone with Lucia.

“That’s a lie.”

An unexpected remark. Lucia asked, looking at the back of Shiron’s head.

“Huh?”

“What I said to the barbarians earlier, that my name is Kyrie. That was a lie.”

“…I thought so. There’s no way you could be Kyrie.”

Lucia sighed deeply and laughed while walking beside Shiron.

“Your swordsmanship is poor, and you do bizarre training. Right, you couldn’t be Kyrie.”

“…Why are you laughing?”

“It’s funny.”

Lucia kicked away the corpse she had killed earlier.

“Now that it’s over, isn’t this kind of like an adventure? Isn’t it fun?”

“…Fun? I’d rather sleep in my room.”

“Is there any meaning in just sleeping in your room…”

Lucia continued, looking at the faint light in the distance.

“I thought… that I was stagnant.”

“What do you mean stagnant? You’ve been diligently attending the academy.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Shaking her head, Lucia moved a blocking rock with one hand.

“You and Siriel seem to have your roles, but I feel like I’m just drifting in the lake. Siriel follows our uncle to become the knight commander… and you’re a hero.”

“…”

“What about me?”

‘What’s with her? Is she getting emotional because it’s dawn?’

She sounded like Yura during her adolescent phase. Shiron felt an urge to make a sarcastic remark but decided to match Lucia’s mood.

“What will I do after graduating from the academy? I don’t want to be a burden by being unemployed…”

“You have the title of family heir. You could become the head of the family.”

“Quiet for a moment.”

“…”

“So, going on an adventure with you. It makes me feel clearer about who I am and what I should do.”

Tatak—

“Just saying.”

Lucia stepped forward, ahead of Shiron, and emerged into the open.

In front of the city hall square.

Due to the considerable commotion underground, people outside were murmuring, and the lower-ranking officers were forming a human wall to control the crowd.

“Are you safe?”

A person who seemed to be the representative of the officers—the woman Shiron had seen at the police station last time—ran over with a worried face. It wasn’t surprising, given that a bloodstained swordsman had come out smiling.

“I’ll prepare a transport carriage quickly. Ah, before that, someone bring a wet towel!”

Berta turned her gaze away from Lucia and shouted. Thanks to her quite high rank, a burly man approached immediately, politely offering a bucket with wet towels.

“…I told you to take a vacation.”

Shiron, who followed behind, took the wet towel Berta handed him. However, suddenly, his gaze stayed on Berta’s waist.

“A gun.”

“Oh, this? It’s a portable firearm recently issued. Its power is ambiguous, but I’ve been finding it quite useful.”

“Let me see it for a moment.”

“…Pardon?”

“I need to check something. Just a minute.”

“Oh, alright…”

Berta cautiously handed over her gun, and Shiron examined it thoroughly, checking if there were bullets in the chamber. Then, he aimed the muzzle at his thigh.

Bang—

It didn’t hurt. The bullet was absorbed as if sucked in, and from the moment the gun fired, Shiron could clearly recognize it.

‘Deactivate the blessing.’

[Yes.]

Latera followed the hero’s command. Confirming that the shadow engraved on his soul had been removed, Shiron continued his experiment.

He fired one shot at his chest and another at his head. He also had Lucia shoot at him.

Still, it didn’t hurt.

Berta’s face turned white at the sudden self-harm.

“What, what are you doing?!”

“Hey, now you shoot me.”

Ignoring Berta’s shock, Shiron grabbed her hand and placed the gun’s handle in it. Berta, confused about what was happening, could only pull the trigger after being smacked on the butt.

“This is crazy.”

Shiron’s face scrunched up. It wasn’t due to pain but because the barbarian’s gunfire was more difficult to unravel than expected.

Thinking it wouldn’t hurt if shot by himself, Shiron was also unhurt by Lucia’s bullets.

Moreover, he wasn’t hurt by Berta’s bullets either, who was as good as a stranger.

‘Did they do something to the bullets?’

Sorting out his thoughts, Shiron spat out the lead bullets.

“Thanks for letting me use it.”

He patted Berta’s back, not forgetting to explain.

“It’s just magic practice, don’t worry.”

“…Yes, yes!”

“And don’t go reporting this to His Majesty over something like this.”

“Of course not. I’ll also make sure to keep the people quiet.”

She had become more perceptive since he last saw her. Berta nodded repeatedly, matching Shiron’s pace.


“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

In a room filled with the smell of herbs, Yoru waved off Soi, who had approached his bedside.

It wasn’t a pretense of strength; he really was fine. Just like he had said about having children and taking slaves, there was no sign of killing intent in the opponent’s attack, so it was an obvious result.

“What did you think?”

“Pardon?”

“Shiron Prient, and the kid who suddenly appeared… the two we faced.”

“…They were strong.”

Soi, the leader of the Chusaldae, honestly acknowledged their strength.

In the basement, with blood rushing to his head, he couldn’t make an objective judgment, but looking back now, it was right to follow the princess’s order.

“How strong were they? I can’t remember clearly because I wasn’t in my right mind then.”

“…Even if there were five of me, I wouldn’t be confident of victory.”

“The black-haired man? Or the small child?”

“The small girl. In my life… I’ve never seen anyone that strong.”

‘I was curious about Shiron Prient’s strength… was that it?’

Yoru, looking at Soi with wide eyes, sighed deeply.

“Stronger than my father.”

“…”

Soi clutched the hem of his pants in a panic. He realized belatedly what he had said. As a warrior and a person of Silleya who revered strength, acknowledging an enemy as stronger than the chief elder was a great disrespect.

Especially in front of the princess, who was his blood relative…

“It’s alright. I thought so too.”

Yoru patted the back of Soi’s hand, which had suddenly become despondent.

“Recognizing an opponent’s strength is not easy. And what if the opponent is strong? Our people have fought against much larger empires for hundreds of years.”

“…”

“Yet the empire, even if intermittently, has not been able to do anything about our great achievements. Our Silleya not only maintains our lineage but also becomes the voice of the powerless.”

Speaking calmly, Yoru rubbed her index and middle fingers together. Recognizing the familiar gesture asking for a cigarette, Soi handed over a long stick with a lit end.

Yoru inhaled deeply.

Unable to calm her mind, she took in the smoke more deeply than usual.

‘That man was Kyrie.’

Yoru recalled the man who had flippantly spoken such vulgar words.

Kyrie. The benefactor who had saved her when she fell off the cliff.

But that benefactor was the hateful emperor’s dog, who had repeatedly harassed her with obscene jokes.

…The benefactor and enemy were the same person.

The conflicting recognition made Yoru’s head ache… until it suddenly cleared with a light snap.

Before leaving the underground, the man had shouted at Yoru that he was Kyrie. Though Yoru couldn’t respond in the chaos, she now believed his words.

‘Come to think of it, Kyrie also used to harass people.’

Yoru rubbed her groin, where graffiti had been scrawled, blushing. It was a cheap price for a life saved, but Kyrie, Shiron Prient, had patted her unguarded buttocks and unnecessarily stroked her thighs.

“Where are we going now?”

To forget the embarrassing memory, Yoru turned her attention to the scenery outside. Seeing the quiet farmlands, she realized this wasn’t the capital city of Rien.

Soi quickly wiped away her tears and bowed her head.

“We’re heading toward the eastern mountains. The southern and western borders are heavily guarded, so we have to take a detour. Please forgive me.”

“…I see.”

Yoru exhaled smoke and stood up.

“Let’s stop by the temple of Lady Kihara on the way. She’s been very helpful in many ways this time.”

The goddess of the sea, Kihara.

In a small village on the eastern coast of the empire, where waves and storms never ceased, there was a small temple dedicated to her.

“She will surely be pleased to hear about the strong human woman.”

Yoru’s gaze stopped at the statue in the corner of the cabin.

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