the Regressed Demon Lord is Kind

There were voices belonging to the people who watched the fight. The rough-looking man was quite famous but for the wrong reasons. Words like 'human trash' and 'scum of the earth' occasionally passed between the viewers' mouths.

"What are you all looking at, you bastards!"

The man glared at his audience and pressured them. All the onlookers quickly turned their eyes away. He clearly talked like a gangster, and soon his eyes landed on Zich. Perhaps, he didn't like the way Zich was looking at him. He focused his eyes and glared at Zich. Anyone could see that he was a second away from making provocations.

Normally, Zich would have glared back at the man, as if he was asking what the man was looking at or rejoicing at the opportunity to stretch out his fists; but Zich lowered his gaze. He quietly stuck close to the wall and moved to where the other bystanders were. If Lyla had been beside him, she would have asked if he was hurting anywhere and would gently suggest a visit to the hospital with worry. The gangster who looked at Zich disgruntledly soon lost interest and took his eyes away after snorting. Then, he kicked the guys collapsed on the ground on their stomachs once each and walked to the shop's entrance.

"W—wait…!" a hesitant but desperate voice called out. The gangster turned around and glared at the owner of the voice: he was a chubby, middle-aged man whose head was half balding. The middle-aged man took one step back while hiccupping as if he was afraid. Still, he managed to croak, "E-Even if it's you, you have to compensate for the shop…."

It seemed like this middle-aged man was the owner of this shop. It was understandable that he wanted to get some compensation after seeing his shop in ruins. Furthermore, it wasn't just that the state of the shop was in a mess; some of the furniture inside it was pretty much destroyed. It was to the point that the shop owner couldn't let this man go no matter how scared he was. However, the shop owner's bravery didn't last long.

"What?" The gangster's face looked cross as he tightened his fist, and his joints cracked. His action wouldn't have even called for laughter among trained fighters, but for common civilians like the owners who lived a life far away from violence, they were very intimidating. The owner shut his mouth and looked down.

The gangster looked at the shop owner with amusement and spat on the floor. The shop owner couldn't say anything as the gangster went out of the shop while cackling. With his departure, the inside of the shop became quiet again.

"L-Let's also go."

The spectators glanced at the shop owner and left. The only ones left in the messed-up shop was the owner blankly at the space before him, and Zich. But Zich also joined the rest of the group leaving the place. Once he was outside, he saw the gangster from far away. Other people let out a string of insults while also looking at the gangster's back but took a different path from him. However, Zich quietly followed the gangster while keeping a distance. The gangster took some twists and turns a couple of times and disappeared from Zich's view, but Zich didn't lose track of him.

Soon, the gangster went inside an inn. Zich secretly peered inside, using the windows on the sides of the entrance. The gangster was climbing up a staircase casually like he was familiar with the place. It seemed obvious that he lived here, and Zich felt his presence inside a room. After finding out the gangster's lodging place, Zich returned to the shop where the gangster had caused trouble. There was already a sign that the shop was closed in front of the door.

Zich found the door unlocked, so he opened it and went inside the shop. The owner was wiping the floor with his shoulders heavily drooped. When he noticed Zich, he said curtly, "Business is closed today. There's a sign on the door."

Zich didn't respond and headed towards the table inside. The shop owner furrowed his eyebrows and was about to tell Zich off once more.

Thud!

Zich placed a small pouch on top of the table. The threads on its opening were slightly loose, revealing the goods inside it: money. The owner stared at Zich in surprise.

"It's probably much more than the crushed furniture and the business you lost combined. With this much, I think I can at least ask for one meal even if this place is closed. Do you need more?"

The owner shook his head. From a glance, he could tell the money in the sack wasn't lacking but an excessive sum. Zich took out a chair near him and sat. "Can I get the most popular menu you have and one bottle of alcohol?"

"P-Please wait a moment!" Since it was an order coming from a person who could change today's misfortune into luck, the owner rushed into the kitchen.

Not long afterward, the owner brought out a fairly large number of dishes and a bottle of alcohol that clearly looked extremely valuable. Then, he took furtive glances at Zich and the money pouch that he hadn't received yet. Perhaps, he had a conscience or was a simply shy person, but he didn't say anything.

Zich smirked and poured alcohol into his cup. Then, he pointed at his pouch of money.

"Take this."

"T-Thank you." The shop owner hurriedly took the money pouch and peeked inside. When he saw that there was more money than he expected, his jaw hung open and silly laughter flowed out of it.

"Sir, since your business seems to be over for today, could you answer some of my questions?"

"Of course, sir! I will answer everything to the best of my knowledge!"

"You know the gangster who caused trouble in this shop earlier…"

The owner's face, which had looked as if he would have done anything at Zich's request, faltered a bit.

"I'm just curious what kind of fellow that guy was."

"That…" The owner hesitated to speak. It seemed as if he was afraid of the repercussions he would get if he spoke rashly.

Thud.

Zich pushed another pouch filled with money towards him. The owner's eyes immediately shot towards it.

"I will never tell anyone that I heard from you."

The owner's eyes made a full circle from the money pouch to Zich. After some time, the owner took the money pouch as if he had made up his mind. Then, he cussed, "That guy is a fucking gangster bastard!"

Like he had a lot of things to say about this topic, he took a chair and sat in front of Zich. He let out a stream of insults against the gangster again. The gangster's name was Tim Platt, and he was quite a notorious gangster in this city.

"Like today, if he gets into a dispute, he starts fighting and breaking things without considering the situation or place. He is also quick to hit people."

Zich dipped his bread deep into the soup and ate it while listening carefully to the owner's story. It was a fact in life that if the listener showed a good reaction, the speaker would also be more eager to talk. After seeing how well Zich listened to him, the owner who had been awkwardly moving his lips began to talk more smoothly.

"Did you not report him?"

"Of course I did! But the higher folks don't care about one, low-level gangster who prowls around alleys like this! Moreover, he got arrested once before. I don't know if he has someone backing him up or not, but he got quickly released! But the person who reported him received punishment for no reason!"

It was not surprising. It was common for corrupt city officials to take bribes and watch the backs of mafias and gangsters. The owner said that Tim Platt was probably one of those people.

"The same thing happened today! Why did he have to get into a fight with random gangsters! If they want to fight, they should just fight amongst themselves. Why did they have to fight inside the store and damage the goods here when they don't have the slightest inclination to compensate me!"

It seemed as if the owner also hadn't been able to receive compensation from the people who fought Tim. For that reason, the owner immediately accepted the money that Zich offered. The owner continued to spout out insults against Tim for a while. Zich sometimes nodded his head while he finished his food and alcohol.

After Zich finished his meal, he went outside the store. The store owner humbly greeted Zich out of the store. The sun completely set and the moon appeared in the sky, but Zich didn't head towards his lodging. The place he headed for was the front of Tim's lodging. He climbed on top of a nearby rooftop and stared at Tim's lodging like a statue; he looked like a chilling stalker.

More time passed, and light began to slowly seep out from across the darkness. However, Zich did not move an inch. People began to slowly move and do their work, but even then, Zich did not move. After a while, the door of the lodging that Zich was staring at opened and Tim came out. Zich's eyes sparkled.

Tap!

Zich lightly jumped down the building and began to follow Tim. As the owner said, Tim looked like a picture-perfect gangster. He walked in a dangerous manner, and if he didn't like something, he would express his frustration and swear. Whenever someone picked a fight with him, he'd immediately swung his fists. Zich keenly watched this sight.

* * *

Tim went to a certain store that night; it seemed as if he went inside to eat dinner. Zich waited a bit and then followed Tim inside the store and ordered food. The food tasted all right; while Zich ate his stew, he persistently looked at Tim. He didn't know how much time passed until—

"I found you bastard!" Someone burst into the store and came inside. They looked familiar.

'They're the punks whom Tim beat the crap out of.' The injuries and marks all over their bodies were evidence of this.

Even though Zich used the potions he got from Lubella like water, potions were actually extremely precious items. It was not strange for random street thugs to still have their injuries. They all glared at Tim; it seemed as if they had come to get their revenge against him. Moreover, they also had many more people with them than before.

Tap!

Tim let go of his spoon. Then, he slowly got up. "Ah, you fucking bastards. Why do you guys always have to fuck with me when I'm eating?" He turned to them while saying rough words.

The thugs flinched. It seemed as if their fears from yesterday were still present. However, they gained courage from the numbers on their side.

"Fuck that bastard!"

The store fell into a large commotion. The customers enjoying their meals in a relaxed manner screamed and stuck to the wall. Since the thugs had blocked the entrance with their big bodies, they weren't able to escape. The owner looked as if they didn't know what to do as they watched their store getting destroyed and let out screams. Only one person—Zich—calmly continued his meal. Moreover, he watched the fight in front of him with a relaxed posture as if he was an audience watching an interesting play.

"Kueck!" A thug let out a strange scream and flew towards Zich. He lightly waved his hand.

Punch!

"Kkuck!" The thug's body changed direction and slammed into the ground.

Zich paid no attention to the thug he hit and focused his attention on the fight in front of him. The fight soon ended. The result of the fight today was the same as yesterday. Even though Tim's opponents had increased, the last one standing was Tim Platt, and the inside of the store was a complete mess again.

"M-my store…"

Tim glared threateningly at the owner collapsed on the ground and murmured to themselves. Then, he approached the nearest thug and began relentlessly kicking him.

"If! I! Let! You! Guys! Go off easy! You should have! Quietly! Fucked off! How dare you! Try to fight! Me! Again!"

The thug tried to curl his body up as much as possible from Tim's unforgiving kicks. The people around him became pale in fear at the violent scene in front of them.

"Ahahahhahahahahahahaha!" A burst of loud laughter rang out in the store. People's gazes headed towards the direction of the laugh. Tim also stopped kicking. The person who laughed was Zich, and he quickly got up from his chair.

"…Who is this bastard?" Tim frowned at this unexpected situation.

Zich slowly moved towards Tim whose frown deepened; he violently clenched his fist and was about to say something to Zich, "What are y—!"

Grab!

Zich suddenly grabbed Tim's hand. He heartily laughed, "Yep! You trashy bastard! You are definitely trash!"

Tim's face contorted into a bizarre expression. Zich paid zero attention to Tim's face; he was too busy expressing his happiness at seeing a familiar face.

"Hey trash, I'm really happy to see you! Do you know how happy I am that you're still a complete trash human being?"

Zich continued to talk about trash to a startled Tim, "Yep, this is how it should be! You should still be trash! There's no way the great Tim Platt would not be trash! The trash among trash! The greatest trash! The king of trash!"

"What, you bastard!" Tim yelled with a vein popping out of his forehead.

Zich replied cheerfully, "Why, you trashy shit!"