The 7th-Run Regressor Collects Calamities - Chapter 55

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 55. Ayase Haruka (1)
Once Ryu Jin had infused all the metal with spiritual energy, he examined each piece carefully.
“Hmm… I see….”
As Ryu Jin inspected the metal, he let out a murmur of fascination, and his eyes lit up entirely.
“This is interesting… I think something even more intriguing than I expected might come of this.”
Ryu Jin’s fingers trembled finely with excitement.
“Right! Everything’s prepared for now! I’ll let you know as soon as it’s complete.”
Ryu Jin’s eyes shone brighter than ever. In this moment, he felt pure happiness.
“I’ll get started on the work right away!”
With that, he immediately began stoking the furnace. He placed the metal inside to heat it thoroughly, then started hammering.
Clang! Clang! Clang-clang!
Each time the heated metal was struck by the hammer’s head, the furnace’s heat surged upward in waves, sparks scattered in all directions, and the scent of iron settled across the workshop.
With every hammer strike, his soul resonated once more. Ryu Jin continued the endless rhythm of his blows, in sync with those vibrations.
And through that soul, he drew forth the result from the depths of the metal.
The first metal he’d taken up, infused with Im Jae-hyeok’s aura, began to curl at its edges as he hammered it, and faint patterns emerged across the surface, following the grain.
‘Yes… this is how you feel. I think I understand what you’re like.’
As the metal took form in the furnace’s flames, Song Ji-hu found himself watching not the metal, but Ryu Jin himself.
‘This isn’t easy work.’
Song Ji-hu’s eyes sensed how Ryu Jin’s soul and the metal resonated with each hammer strike.
With each resonance, gaps were forming in Ryu Jin’s soul—gaps that would remain unfilled unless sealed.
‘That’s why he’s so vulnerable to the Lord’s attacks.’
Song Ji-hu began to understand, at least in part, why Ryu Jin met the same fate in every life.
The conventional wisdom held that craftsman hunters were safe from mental corruption, but it seemed Ryu Jin didn’t fall under that rule.
“Sigh….”
When Ryu Jin paused his forging, Song Ji-hu cast a Mental Barrier over him.
“Huh?”
As Ryu Jin tilted his head, Song Ji-hu smiled and met his gaze.
“From now on, before you work, stop by if you have time. You accumulate mental corruption every time you work, even if it’s minimal, right?”
“Yes… just a little at a time….”
Not as much as hunters who entered dungeons, of course.
“Then it’ll help.”
“Thank you.”
Ryu Jin bowed his head toward Song Ji-hu.
“I’ll be here today. Contact me right when the skill’s done.”
Song Ji-hu turned from Ryu Jin, who was resuming his work, and approached Yoon Young-su.
“We’ve heard from Matsumoto Leo.”
“When did he say he’d visit?”
“He said he’ll come as soon as possible. He said he’d work around our schedule, but he hopes it’s as quick as we can manage….”
At Yoon Young-su’s words, Song Ji-hu smiled and checked the calendar.
“Next week should work. We don’t have any particularly urgent schedules anyway. And in that timeframe, we should be able to finish at least one treatment room, right?”
“Yes. We’ll have enough time. I’ll make sure one treatment room is completed quickly before his visit.”
“Please also take care of the waiting room. We’ll need somewhere for any attendants to wait.”
Besides, by then their strength from the Gate would have recovered plenty.
“Understood. I’ll pass that along.”
***
On the day of Matsumoto Leo’s visit, the Zero Point Guild’s new building was still under construction.
However, the single treatment room where healing would take place had already been completed and stood ready to receive their guest.
Equipment capable of monitoring mental corruption levels in real time had been installed, and the entire space was layered with magical buffer barriers to ensure that if a patient went berserk, the effects wouldn’t leak outside.
When you touched the wall, the barrier vibrated faintly, and the floor was inscribed with seamless patterns to guide the flow of magical power.
“This should be sufficient, shouldn’t it? Still… these are important guests, and if something goes wrong….”
Yoon Young-su asked Song Ji-hu, who was examining the barrier in the center of the treatment room.
“Well… you don’t need to worry so much about it.”
Song Ji-hu nodded slightly as he scanned the treatment room.
“This is plenty. And as the saying goes, every guest finds something to complain about. If they’re unhappy, they simply don’t come.”
At Song Ji-hu’s words, Yoon Young-su’s expression hardened as he nodded.
“I haven’t shed my Hunter Association mindset yet, have I?”
“You’ll need to get used to it going forward. We don’t need to grovel. Whether it’s to any nation, individual, or organization. Of course, you understand the difference between being courteous and not bowing, yes?”
“Of course. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Yoon Young-su checked his vibrating phone.
“He’s arrived. But… his condition doesn’t look good. He’s apparently bound in restraints.”
Less than five minutes after Yoon Young-su spoke those words, the door to the Treatment Room opened and Matsumoto Leo entered.
The composed expression he’d worn at the negotiation table mere moments ago was nowhere to be found.
His entire face had grown visibly gaunt, as though reflecting the gravity of the situation itself.
“It’s been a while. I can hardly bring myself to ask how you’ve been.”
“That’s precisely why I came here.”
The shift in Matsumoto Leo’s expression alone conveyed the full weight of the crisis.
“At this point, there shouldn’t be any safety concerns.”
Only after drawing the curtains firmly shut did Matsumoto Leo send the signal.
“Bring her in.”
A woman was wheeled in, bound firmly to a wheelchair.
Her head swayed side to side in rhythm with the rolling wheels, and her cloth-bound fingers twitched in the air as though clawing at emptiness.
For fear she might harm herself during a seizure, or that the restraints might abrade her skin, her wrists and ankles were wrapped in soft cloth.
‘Ayase Haruka….’
Just as with Eun Seo-jin and Ollie Barkley, this was the first time he’d laid eyes on the woman known as Japan’s symbol.
In his previous life, he’d only heard rumors and news of her death—there had been no way to save her then.
“To the bed.”
Even the Kage attendants who’d brought her couldn’t bring themselves to look at her directly, their gazes falling away. As the two of them transferred her to the bed from either side, her bound arms jerked repeatedly.
‘A pallid complexion. Eyes unfocused and trembling.’
What remained here was merely a woman being endlessly consumed and tormented by something beyond her reach.
“…water is coming. No, was it fire? Or perhaps light.”
It was then, as she muttered those meaningless words endlessly, that Haruka’s aimless gaze suddenly turned toward Song Ji-hu.
For an instant, clarity blazed through her clouded pupils—as if she’d finally encountered something she’d been waiting for all this time.
“Re… gressor.”
But it lasted only a moment. Her eyes clouded over again, their focus dissolving.
And once more, she poured out incoherent ravings.
“He’s smiling. No, he’s crying. Which one is… real. Which one is….”
It was nothing but a stream of meaningless words—countless voices echoing inside her mind flowing directly from her lips.
Matsumoto Leo stepped closer, positioning himself directly in front of Song Ji-hu.
“Song Ji-hu….”
His voice held no strength, no force—only barely suppressed desperation.
Matsumoto Leo gripped Song Ji-hu’s shoulder.
“Can you treat her?”
Matsumoto Leo asked, laying everything bare.
“You remember the conditions, don’t you?”
“The conditions? Five billion dollars, three instances of assistance, and information as desired?”
Song Ji-hu regarded him briefly, then nodded once.
“I’ll give you everything you want. Whether it’s ten times, a hundred times—I’ll help however you need.”
“Those terms are sufficient. Let me take a look first.”
There was no need for further words, so Song Ji-hu approached Ayase Haruka instead of answering.
Yoon Young-su and Eun Seo-jin stood one step behind, while Matsumoto Leo and the other Kage personnel withdrew to observe from a distance.
“Mental Barrier.”
Song Ji-hu first cast a Mental Barrier over Ayase Haruka to help ease her symptoms even slightly.
“Mental Sensing.”
Next, he began carefully probing the depths of her mind through Mental Sensing.
The moment his fingertips touched her temples, an unfamiliar sensation—sticky and deeply unpleasant—crawled up through his nerves instead of the sensations he expected.
And Song Ji-hu’s expression stiffened almost imperceptibly.
‘Something’s wrong… it’s malformed.’
From his previous life to this one, he’d encountered numerous Hunters with elevated mental corruption—from Eun Seo-jin to Ollie Barkley—but Ayase Haruka’s corruption had a fundamentally different texture from anything he’d known.
“Hmm….”
[Target Detection]
[Mental Corruption: 54% (Intermediate Stage)]
[Mental Dive Risk: SS]
Normally, a Mental Dive’s risk level corresponded proportionally to mental corruption, but this was different.
Moreover, the typical symptoms that appeared with standard mental corruption weren’t particularly evident here either.
‘Normally, the approach is to stimulate trauma and create gaps in the psyche, then seep through them….’
Song Ji-hu’s instincts began sounding an alarm, and he pushed deeper into reading her mind.
‘It’s not trauma.’
Based on what he could discern in fragments, Ayase Haruka had no internal fractures at all.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before….”
“What’s wrong? Is there… something you can’t heal?”
“No, that’s not quite it. What symptoms usually appear most often?”
“Repeating incomprehensible words… scattering spiritual energy everywhere… losing the ability to distinguish truth from falsehood….”
As Matsumoto Leo continued speaking, Song Ji-hu’s expression grew curious.
“Is there a case where they can’t use their abilities properly?”
“How did you know? It feels like I’ve lost most of my original abilities. Is there… some kind of problem?”
Song Ji-hu shook his head at that.
“Problem… is it? At least I know the symptoms are different from ordinary Mental Corruption, right?”
“That’s true enough. I understand it’s similar but different.”
“The cause is different, so the symptoms are different too.”
Ayase Haruka’s problem wasn’t Mental Corruption at all—it was that a Lord’s spiritual energy had parasitized her ability itself.
“What’s her ability? A skill?”
Matsumoto Leo’s expression twisted at that. Usually, asking about abilities and skills meant demanding someone reveal their entire toolkit.
“Well… from what I can tell… it seems like she reads some kind of spiritual energy. A buffer? A healing-type thing. She might be able to sense intentions too.”
“How… did you figure that out?”
“That’s a trade secret.”
Song Ji-hu’s eyes went cold.
‘A con artist… caught in more than one trap. If this man pours lies into vessels meant to receive truth….’
Song Ji-hu knew that method all too well.
Once entangled with him, you couldn’t break free—like your entire body was wrapped tightly in thread you couldn’t untangle yourself.
Like spinning a web, he spread invisible lies to isolate his prey, sickening their minds. An apostle of deception.
‘A Spider.’
The Seventh Regression Collector of Calamities
Author
: Song Tan
Publication Date
: July 21, 2026
Publisher
: Aces Media Co., Ltd.
Editor
: Aces Media Editorial Team
Address
: 10F Urban Bench Building, 325 Teheran-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
Email
: [email protected]
※ This work is published by Aces Media Co., Ltd. in accordance with an agreement with the copyright holder,
and the content may not be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and author.
This e-book is protected by copyright law, and unauthorized reproduction or copying may result in legal liability.
UCI
: G720:N+A129-20260709064

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————