"Regressor, come out."
"S-s-sorry there is no one by that name here."
"Regressor. Stop testing my patience."
"Uh…."
Locked in the closet even though the day had passed, the regressor still refused to step outside. This damned coward had become exhaustingly used to being in the cramped space, to the point where I wanted to remove most cramped spots from the world.
"Meow!"
Even the black cat from god knows where had become annoyed by the regressor's antics.
"That said, what is your name?"
I had never heard his name, even in the novel. People mostly referred to him by the moniker given to him and sometimes through his title.
"About that, feel free to call me whatever you please."
I couldn't just go about calling him a regressor in public, that defeated the entire point of being a regressor.
I thought of what to call him, but in the end, since he was a character from the novel, referring to him in any other way seemed too conspicuous for me to be comfortable with.
"Fine, I'll refer to you through your profession."
His profession was his true calling after all. To the point that eventually, even the tower would choose to refer to him so.
"Linguist, get out of that place."
"L-lame…"
"Meow.."
I reeled back. Was it really that lame for someone to be called a linguist? Though not as much as his title, it was still a name used plenty for him.
Was the incongruence between a novel world and real life that high?
I still felt slightly insulted by his blunt dismissal.
"I don't care. Come out now, we have work to do."
The door of the closet swung open, and a gloomy regressor showed his face.
"Alright," he said. Strangely enough, he didn't seem as afraid as he appeared tired. It was hard to believe that the regressor was that trusting of me, but the evidence still said so.
"You didn't bathe at all since the fight, did you?"
"D-d-do I smell, sir? I! I'll go now! I'll disappear from your sights."
"Sure."
The regressor jumped out of the closet and made a beeline toward the bath.
Then, my eyes widened.
I…
I didn't have to be worried about the attachment at all! This was all simply because the regressor had no friends. His weaknesss was exposed and so were his strengths and values.
He was vulnerable, like a naked person.
There was something called the Stockholm syndrome, a syndrome where people started to build positive emotions toward their captors and abusers. Research had shown that this was more likely to build in people with low self-esteem.
And suspension bridge, where people mistook thrill for positive interpersonal feelings. Though there was a common misconception that the suspension bridge only built romantic feelings, that wasn't the case.
The battle with the snake, and being killed by my hands, both of these had greatly skewed the low-worth regressor's mind.
"I can use this…"
The regressor had been a very convenient person, this was just perfect. There was nothing better than him being in such a state of mind.
I could drive a final nail in my relationship with him sooner than I had planned.
I immediately stood up and grabbed the cat.
The regressor stepped out of the bath at the same time, clad in a loose white shirt and black trousers with a towel draped over his head, he made for a total heart-throb.
"Let's move," I told him.
"Where to, sir?"
"What do you think of crime, regressor?"
"I… don't know…. I am sorry, you can throw me away sir. I am sorry."
What a useless bastard.
"No, don't worry," I sighed and adjusted my coat. "I think it is good."
"Crime? Good?"
"Good. As long as I am the one doing it."