The Regressed Martial God Monopolizes Everything - Chapter 106

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 106. Conversation (3)
Alexander, the extraordinary Hunter born from the United States, had been in a foul mood of late.
— Garam’s prodigy has set a new Tower Climbing record once again, ascending to SSS Rank.
“Fuck!”
Alexander raised his middle finger toward the television screen mounted on the cavernous living room wall.
— With this, another record set by Alexander has been broken. How do you assess the situation?
— It appears that in time, all of Alexander’s records will eventually fall.
Though the man himself could not hear it, Alexander growled at the corpulent announcer on screen.
“What the hell is this Michelin tire-looking bastard going on about?”
— Of course, Alexander remains number one in the world rankings. But records are made to be broken, are they not? And surely one day they pass to a new generation?
“A new generation?”
Alexander let out a hollow laugh.
“Listen to this fat motherfucker.”
He jabbed his finger at the screen — at a man who could not possibly see him — and bellowed regardless.
“All your life you’ve been able to stuff donuts in your mouth thanks to who? And here you sit on that sofa like a damned pig, judging me, calculating the lifespan of my records?”
Alexander yanked open the refrigerator door, seized a can, drained it in one gulp, crushed the empty vessel, and hurled it across the room.
“When I set that record, you were probably digging around in your belly fat for your own dick, you pathetic hamburger bag.”
While Alexander seethed, the announcer on the screen beamed and laughed.
— Now there is but one question on everyone’s mind: when will Garam’s prodigy finally surpass Alexander completely?
“Surpass me completely?”
Alexander’s lips twisted into a vicious sneer.
“Fuck you.”
One phrase was not enough; he erupted again immediately.
“Fuck you, your show, your sponsors, and that cheap-ass suit strangling your fat fucking neck.”
You.
Your damn broadcast.
Your advertisers.
And that pathetic suit choking the life out of that pig’s neck — all of you could go to hell.
Alexander clenched the remote in his hand.
“Surpass me?”
The plastic warped under the pressure of his grip.
Crack!
“Let’s see you try.”
Fragments of the shattered remote scattered across the floor.
Alexander stared at Jeong Hyun-soo’s face on the screen, baring his teeth.
It was a different kind of rage now — a hunger to compete.
He made no excuses: that the kid had stolen his records, or had more information from being of a later generation.
Well, maybe he had an advantage there. Just a little.
“Watch me. I’ll show you an unprecedented achievement that you could never touch.”
The chubby announcer continued to laugh and prattle on screen.
Without turning his head, Alexander reached for a fresh remote already positioned nearby.
“And you shut your mouth, you rotten bacon grease container.”
The screen went dark.
Alexander sank into the sofa.
“Disrespectful little brats. Don’t even know who you owe it all to. Do they have any idea how brutal the upper floors of the Tower are?”
The world changes every ten levels. What you thought was hell — looking back, it was just Rookie difficulty. Do they understand that?
“Goddamn punks. They need rationing like the old Soviet Union to keep them in line. That’s what it takes. Tch!”
He was in the midst of a furious tirade when it happened.
Ding!
Alexander’s eyes narrowed at the sudden intercom chime.
“What is it?”
Alexander prized his privacy, so direct intercom calls like this were rare for him.
Ahem!
Alexander picked up the intercom, cleared his throat, and spoke.
“Yes. What is it?”
Unlike some fat fool spouting opinions about him, the penthouse staff bore no fault.
So he maintained his usual genteel tone with them.
— I apologize for the interruption, Alexander. We needed verification on something, so I thought I should call. A Korean Hunter named Jeong Hyun-soo has arrived and is asking to meet with you.
“What?”
Alexander could not fathom what he was hearing.
“Jeong Hyun-soo? That greenhorn they say is Garam’s prodigy?”
— Yes, it appears that’s the person.
Alexander’s frown deepened.
‘What the hell is that kid doing here?’
All the same, a wave of absurdity washed over him.
Well, it wasn’t as though he couldn’t guess.
The kid’s been doing well lately, and everyone’s been fawning over him—the sort of arrogance you’d expect from a greenhorn who thinks he’s the center of the world.
Treated kindly everywhere he goes, he’s probably convinced he can just show up unannounced wherever he pleases.
“Tell him to leave.”
Honestly, he had nothing scheduled today anyway, but there was no reason to make time for this.
‘This bastard has no sense of limits either.’
— Ah, but Hunter Alexander, the prodigy has already left.
“What?”
— Instead, he asked me to relay a message. He wanted to know if you’re aware of Curupira.
Alexander’s expression froze, all warmth draining from it in an instant.
* * *
Jeong Hyun-soo gazed out at Manhattan in New York. Sunlight shattered across the dark blue surface of the East River, and beyond it, buildings rose in dense clusters.
Shifting his gaze slightly to the left, the massive stone arches and steel cables of the Brooklyn Bridge cut across his field of vision.
But the truest symbol of New York lay elsewhere.
A towering black structure that cast Manhattan itself into shadow.
The United States had one Tower in the west and one in the east; the eastern Tower stood here in Manhattan, the very heart of New York.
A black Tower had risen in the land known as the center of American economics—Wall Street and beyond—which had caused confusion at first, but then again, this was still a place where people lived.
Since Tower Climbing began, the city had only grown, fed by the Byproducts; the soaring skyscrapers now seemed to approach the Tower itself like Hunters scaling its heights.
“Not bad.”
Unlike the other tourists who pulled out their cameras, Jeong Hyun-soo took a bite of his hamburger instead.
Juice dripped from between the crisply toasted buns. The melted cheese, salty bacon, and coarsely ground patty compressed together in each bite felt quite satisfying.
It was worth the trip to a place so highly acclaimed.
Jeong Hyun-soo pressed his finger against the oil seeping from the paper wrapper and gazed across the river again.
Wind rushed through the open space.
Savoring the sensation, Jeong Hyun-soo reached for a french fry.
Screech.
The metal chair across from him cried out.
A massive man had suddenly thrown himself into the seat that had been empty just moments before.
Creak!
The chair legs scraped backward across the floor.
He wore a worn leather jacket over a white t-shirt. Shoulders so broad and thick that the jacket strained to its limits, ready to split.
Stubble covered his jaw from days without shaving, and his unkempt blond hair scattered in the wind as it pleased.
To anyone’s eye, he looked like a long-haul truck driver just arriving from the road.
‘Well, that’s because he is one.’
The man across from him had indeed spent years hauling trucks across the American continent.
Never carrying passengers—just freight, barreling relentlessly forward—a first-generation heavyweight who’d made his mark that way.
Alexander stared at Jeong Hyun-soo’s face without so much as a greeting, boring through it.
Then at the hamburger.
Back to Jeong Hyun-soo’s face.
“Living up to your look, carelessly devouring that hamburger like it’s nothing.”
His low, rough English cut through the ambient noise.
Jeong Hyun-soo slowly chewed what was in his mouth.
“Looks can be deceiving—it’s actually better than you’d expect. Guess you’ve never tried one?”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed with displeasure.
“Me… tried? You little punk.”
Here in this foreign land, far from home, a blue-eyed blond foreigner was griping about age.
But Jeong Hyun-soo already knew this was how Alexander was.
He understood Korean well enough?
‘It’s all because of his hatred for Seon Woo-hyun.’
And so naturally, he was hostile toward South Korea as well.
“Are you Jeong Hyun-soo?”
Jeong Hyun-soo tilted his head at Alexander’s question.
“Isn’t that a bit of a late introduction?”
Alexander’s expression twisted further.
“Why do you keep talking down to me?”
“Because I got here first.”
“How old do you think I am?”
“…How would I know? I’m seeing you for the first time.”
Alexander’s mouth curved upward, just slightly. Not quite a smile—the expression of someone who’d found their opponent more agreeable than expected.
He reached over and picked up a french fry from the table.
It was Jeong Hyun-soo’s.
Crunch.
Alexander chewed and spoke.
“Curupira.”
He swallowed the fry and continued.
“Where did you hear that name?”
Jeong Hyun-soo watched his stolen fry disappear and picked his burger back up instead.
“Is that really why the busiest man in America came in person?”
“No?”
Alexander leaned back against his chair. The metal groaned and bent again.
“If you’re spouting nonsense, I came to beat it out of you.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Then I confirm that first.”
“And after you confirm?”
“I’ll figure it out then.”
It was an answer as straightforward as they come.
Jeong Hyun-soo laughed softly.
He was much the same as the Alexander in his memories.
Not a man who lacked intelligence. Rather, he was the type who preferred to grab someone by the collar and wring answers from them rather than brood endlessly.
Jeong Hyun-soo gestured toward Manhattan across the river.
“What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Alexander didn’t even turn to look.
“I see it every day. What’s beautiful about that? Besides, the view from above is better anyway.”
“So why do you keep stealing fries from other people’s plates?”
“Because they’re right in front of me.”
Really—conversation with him was never a smooth affair.
Jeong Hyun-soo wiped the sauce from his fingers with a napkin and spoke.
“Curupira’s footprints face backward.”
The easy confidence in Alexander’s expression vanished.
“Keep going.”
“But when you actually go there, you always end up following those footprints forward.”
Alexander’s eyes darkened.
It was context with both ends cut away, but what Jeong Hyun-soo was describing now concerned the conquest of Amazon’s Magical Realm—something absolutely classified.
“Until you end up back where you started.”
Only a handful of high-ranking American officials besides Alexander knew the name Curupira, and only he knew the fact that following those footprints brought you back to the original location.
“Who told you this?”
“Is that the kind of thing someone could simply be told?”
“So you’re saying you confirmed it yourself?”
“That’s not what matters, Alexander. Believe it or not, information hasn’t leaked.”
Alexander only narrowed his eyes in response.
“I’m the one who decides that, kid.”
Alexander launched himself into the air without warning.
He was probably going to beat every high-ranking American official into submission to get to the truth of the matter.
“Guess I should focus on clearing the Tower.”
Jeong Hyun-soo vanished next, bound for Tower Climbing, and the table fell silent as if no one had ever been there at all.
Continued in the next episode ▶
The Sole Inheritor of Regression
Author
Cheon Ya
Publisher
Kim Seok-hwan, Choi Se-ra
Published by
Grae Publishing
Contact email [email protected]
Publication date
May 26, 2026
UCI
G720:N+A327-20260515012
※ This electronic book is protected by copyright law and is prohibited from unauthorized reproduction and copying.
Violation of this prohibition may result in criminal and civil legal liability.
※ Pentagram is waiting for the author’s precious manuscript.

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