The difference

"About as strong as 'last time'..."

Lumian stared at the Skinless Monster's corpse and muttered under his breath.

Before time had reversed, he and the monster had traded blows back and forth. Only by outwitting it had he managed to make the victory look fairly easy. Now, all it had taken was one swing of his axe.

Of course, that was partly because he had experienced this "before." He knew the ambush well and had anticipated it.

Regardless, the contrast between "before" and "after" was enough to show him that becoming a Beyonder had brought a qualitative leap in his abilities.

Lumian thought for two seconds, then moved the Skinless Monster's corpse and head into a corner. He did not bury them under stones, wood, or dirt, leaving them exposed along with the blood covering the ground.

Then Lumian quickly searched the half-collapsed building, locating the remaining 197 Felkine and 25 Kopek with precision and sorting them into different pockets.

He flipped through the Little Blue Book again as well, but found nothing unusual.

Once he had finished, he slipped deeper into the ruins. After advancing only twenty or thirty meters, however, he circled back to the same spot and nimbly climbed onto the half-collapsed roof, following the route the Skinless Monster had taken while alive.

After making the necessary preparations, he concealed himself.

Time ticked by. Lumian waited with considerable patience, like an experienced hunter waiting for his prey.

After an unknown length of time, a figure approached from somewhere in the ruins.

He looked half human and half beast, his lower legs bending forward at the knees, greasy black hair hanging loose, and a shotgun strapped to his back. He was the very monster who had "previously" provided Lumian with a Hunter beyonder characteristic.

The Shotgun Monster advanced cautiously, as though on a routine patrol.

Suddenly, his nose twitched. He had noticed a large quantity of blood on the ground in the distance.

He promptly changed direction and approached the building left half-collapsed by fire.

Following the bloodstains, the Shotgun Monster found the Skinless Monster's corpse and head.

He crouched down and examined them carefully.

On the half-collapsed roof, Lumian shook his head at the sight and silently muttered, He can't smell me even at this distance?

Even with the blood masking my scent, he shouldn't be completely oblivious!

As he muttered, he raised his axe and drove it hard into a crack in the stone beside him that he had deepened beforehand.

Crash!

The half-collapsed roof shuddered, and heavy stones came crashing down.

The Shotgun Monster reacted extremely quickly. He immediately twisted at the waist, pushed off with both legs, and leaped toward an area that had not yet collapsed.

Lumian smiled.

He hurled himself off the section of roof still standing, like an eagle swooping down to seize prey in midair.

Amid the rushing wind, Lumian and the Shotgun Monster met in the air. One loomed above, raising his axe in one hand; the other, with his back to the high ground, struggled to turn and block.

Lumian clenched his left fist and punched downward. When the monster raised an arm to block, he opened his hand as though he had planned it all along, softened his force, and grabbed his opponent.

As Lumian pulled back with his left hand, the axe in his right came chopping down.

With a wet thud and a spray of blood, man and monster hit the ground together.

Cushioned by the body beneath him, Lumian was unaffected. He raised his hand and struck again with the axe.

However unwilling the Shotgun Monster's head might have been, it had no choice now but to part from his body and roll twice.

Lumian stood up, looked at the monster, and sneered softly. "You've gotten weaker!

"All that's left is a terrifying shell. Is there actually a scarecrow stuffed inside?"

Having become a Hunter, he had been very confident that he could kill the Shotgun Monster again, but he had not expected it to be this easy.

Looking at the corpse on the ground, Lumian patiently waited for the beyonder characteristic to emerge.

But even after a long wait, no crimson points of light appeared.

"Nothing?" Lumian muttered in puzzlement.

He did not actually find this surprising.

After all, he had obtained the Shotgun Monster's beyonder characteristic "last time," turned it into a potion, and taken it into his body.

Just as I thought. Since time reversing didn't turn me back into an ordinary person or make the beyonder characteristic inside me disappear, that means there's one less Hunter beyonder characteristic here. The Shotgun Monster simply returned to being alive, but without the essential thing sustaining him... The question now is, why am I still in the same state as before time reversed? Unable to come up with an answer, Lumian could only loot the few copper coins on the Shotgun Monster and head out of the ruins.

After daybreak, Lumian did not pretend to have a headache in front of his sister to bring up supernatural matters as he had on the previous March 30. Instead, he got up early and prepared food.

Toast, fried eggs with runny yolks, sliced bacon, and other dishes were set out on the dining table one by one.

"Oh, so hardworking?" Aurora was rather surprised when she came downstairs and saw this. "I thought you wouldn't be able to get out of bed this morning after drinking so much yesterday."

Lumian replied casually, "Just one glass of apple cider and one glass of absinthe. How is that a lot?"

"What's there to be proud of? Aside from wine, which you can have a little of, alcoholic drinks are unhealthy. They affect our brains." Aurora shook her head with a smile. "No wonder you're getting dumber, my little drunkard of a brother."

Never able to win an argument with his sister, Lumian muttered, "Why is wine an exception?"

"Because I like it." Aurora wore an expression that dared him to argue.

Lumian had nothing to say.

After breakfast, he did not rush out, but began kneading dough.

Aurora clicked her tongue in wonder at the sight.

"Have you gotten into some terrible trouble? You're being so good...

"Go on, tell me. Your big sister won't beat you up. At most, I'll add an extra combat lesson."

"No." Lumian seized the opportunity to broach the subject. "I just feel like the atmosphere in the village is getting stranger and stranger. Some people are acting increasingly abnormal. Aurora, have you felt that too?"

From what he had observed, his sister had indeed lost her memories of the period that had been rewound. But the abnormalities in the village certainly had not appeared only in the past few days. There should have been some signs before March 29. As a Mystery Pryer, Aurora might have noticed them, but not taken them seriously enough.

Aurora's expression grew a little more serious.

"Even you've noticed something's wrong?

"Tell me, who's been making you feel that way?"

Aurora really does know there's something wrong with certain people. She just didn't realize how serious it was... As he washed his hands, Lumian chose his words carefully. "Madame Pualis, the Parish Priest, Pons Béné, and the shepherd Pierre Berri, who came back to the village early."

"There is indeed something wrong with Madame Pualis. I knew something wasn't quite right about her from the moment she and the Administrator came to Cordu, but she's been very restrained. Aside from having a succession of extramarital affairs, she hasn't done anything that could be called evil." Aurora spoke as she recalled the details. "I've seen on her..."

Aurora stopped, seemingly unwilling to draw Lumian into the supernatural world.

A succession of extramarital affairs? Before discovering Madame Pualis's affair with the Parish Priest, Lumian had thought she was a respectable lady. Who would have guessed that the Parish Priest was not her first lover?

Of course, this fit Lumian's current stereotyped impression of Madame Pualis.

"As for the Parish Priest, he has the same intense desire for supernatural power as you, but he's never received the blessing of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun." Aurora spoke as she thought. "Someone like Pons Béné, with muscles for brains, couldn't pull off anything strange... There seems to be something wrong with those sheep the shepherd Pierre Berri brought back this time, but I can't see what it is, and I don't dare look any deeper..."

Just what you'd expect from a Sequence 7 of the Mystery Pryer pathway... Before time reversed, I discussed far too little of this with my sister. I actually missed such an important clue-that there might be something wrong with Pierre Berri's sheep... Well, back then I wasn't particularly suspicious of Pierre Berri either. I just thought it was a little strange that he'd come back early for the Lent Festival... Lumian was about to speak when a jingling sound came from the entrance.

Someone had rung their doorbell.

"Who is it?" Lumian asked as he walked over.

"A telegram for Aurora!" the person outside called.

"A telegram?" Aurora looked puzzled. "Who sent me a telegram? There hasn't been anything urgent lately..."

Lumian was confused as well.

We didn't receive a telegram on March 30 before time reversed!

No, wait. On March 30, I went to the Village Square very early to wait for Raymond. Maybe my sister received a telegram but didn't tell me... Lumian quickly found a possible explanation and opened the door.

Outside was indeed Bertrand, the Administrator's subordinate responsible for telegrams. He handed Lumian a sheet of paper and said, "One Felkine."

Brown-haired and brown-eyed, Bertrand was not a Cordu native. He had come from Dalege with the Administrator. He was a young man who appeared friendly but was actually greedy.

Lumian took out a one-Felkine silver coin and tossed it to Bertrand, then lowered his head to read the telegram.

Its contents were not complicated, and he quickly skimmed the gist:

"The Writers' Salon previously mentioned will take place in June. If you are willing, Miss Aurora, you may set off for Trier now, allowing ample time for sightseeing. We guarantee that this will be a truly wonderful journey."

It was signed by the editorial department of Novel Weekly.

This... Lumian's eyes suddenly widened.

Is this Novel Weekly's reply?

"When did I say I wanted to attend a Writers' Salon?" Aurora came over and glanced at it. "Has Novel Weekly's editorial department gone mad? Meeting so many people at once is such a nuisance!"

By this point, Bertrand had already moved away from the door.

Hearing Aurora's words and considering the telegram's contents, the stunned Lumian suddenly came up with a bold guess:

The telegram in my hand really is a reply from Novel Weekly, but it's replying to the telegram I'll send a few days from now!

More precisely, the telegram I sent before time reversed received a reply after time reversed. But in the current course of events, that telegram hasn't even been sent yet!