Chapter 2
No man can ever pass up playing a barbarian. As stupid as that belief was, to someone, at least, it was an immutable truth.
‘I should've just picked another class.’
Ivan genuinely hated his past self for holding such a ridiculous belief.
Regression, possession, and reincarnation—the cliché of clichés known to every web novel reader.
Now that he looked back on his situation—having won the possession lottery—he could only let out a hollow laugh.
He remembered sneering at protagonists in fiction who were possessed into works renowned for their high difficulty and forced to suffer all kinds of hardships.
He had thought, ‘If only I played easy games, I could coast through my possessed life.’
Only after finding himself in the same situation did he feel to his bones what a stupid thought that had been.
I didn't know! I really didn't know I'd be possessed by a real game!! If I'd known, would I have done that?!
If I'd known this would happen, I should've played a dating sim instead of an RPG.
Belated regret couldn't change what had already happened. Still, it wasn't all bad. If he tried to think positively, wasn't this a second life?
No matter how arduous his future life might be, it would be a hundred times better than dying pointlessly after being hit by an eight-ton truck.
And one more thing: Ivan actually liked his new body.
A fairly handsome face, a height of over 190 centimeters, and, above all, muscles that filled his entire body. Even his previous body, which had been decent enough for an ordinary person, was utterly shabby compared to the one he'd gained.
While thinking such frivolous thoughts, Ivan's mood grew somewhat gloomy. He had thought of his personal trainer.
‘That guy probably thinks I died because of him, right?’
Though eccentric, he had been a genuinely good person. Ivan hoped he wouldn't suffer too much. He hoped he wouldn't make some rash decision out of needless guilt.
What crime was it to teach me to work out a little harder? If anyone was at fault, it was that bastard eight-ton truck.
Thinking about it pissed him off again. How the fuck was that bastard driving···? Ivan took a deep breath and calmed his anger.
There was nothing to gain from thinking about the past, especially now.
Ivan emerged from his reverie and looked at the barbarian who had nearly squeezed him to death.
“So, you really···don't remember anything?”
“···Yes, I'm truly sorry.”
Havel was visibly flustered when Ivan couldn't even meet his eyes properly.
“Good grief, don't make such a fuss. What are we doing, acting like this when we're brothers?”
Ivan cautiously looked Havel over.
Once their enormous muscles were set aside, it was surprisingly hard to find any resemblance between the two.
“Uh, for brothers···you look pretty different.”
Havel stared blankly for a moment, as if he had been struck in the back of the head with a hammer, then laughed like a madman.
“Ah, it's true we weren't born from the same womb.”
“Then···.”
“That isn't the issue. Isn't it more important that we're brothers who share a bond deeper than blood?”
So they were sworn brothers. Ivan nodded absently.
Just as Havel had said, his affectionate gaze toward Ivan held a bond beyond that of ordinary brothers.
It was almost burdensome to receive.
Ivan briefly imagined what might happen if the man before him discovered that he was an outsider occupying this body.
By his estimate, getting hit by an eight-ton truck would feel like a relatively peaceful death by comparison.
‘I’d be fucked if he found out.’
Ivan carved deep into his heart the fact that he now had a secret he would have to take to his grave.
He also realized that, to keep his secret from being exposed, he needed to know how the original owner of his body had lived.
Ivan naturally switched to casual speech.
“Then can you tell me what kind of person I was before I lost my memory?”
Havel hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth.
“Yeah, it's not something I can keep hidden anyway. Ivan, you don't have any parents. The tribespeople happened to find you abandoned in the woods.”
Havel paused and studied Ivan's reaction. To his surprise, Ivan responded calmly.
“Well, I figured as much. If my parents were alive, they wouldn't fail to show their faces in a situation like this, would they?”
“When you put it that way···you're right.”
Ivan felt no particular regret about being an orphan.
Even if he'd had parents, dealing with them would have been awkward. It would only increase the chances of his identity being exposed.
‘Not bad. No, it's actually better.’
He was even immune to insults about his parents. No matter how he looked at it, this was an entirely profitable arrangement.
“···Ivan, are you smiling right now?”
Ivan hastily schooled his expression.
“How could you say something so awful!!”
“No, that's not what I meant···I'm sorry! I must have gotten the wrong idea!!”
Having realized what had happened, Havel panicked and slammed his head against the floor.
“Knowing you're sorry is enough. Be careful next time.”
Ivan covered his mouth and chuckled softly. This was much more entertaining than he'd expected.
Havel, who had nearly ruined himself with a single mistake, hurriedly changed the subject.
“Ah, right! Ivan, you were an extremely talented warrior.”
“I was?”
“There were hardly any equals among those your age. I remember you going around beating the crap out of anyone who picked a fight with you for being an orphan.”
His physical prowess really was no joke. Havel didn't seem to be saying it merely to make Ivan feel good.
Havel proudly recounted things Ivan had done in the past as if they were his own accomplishments.
Ivan listened with interest to the somewhat exaggerated stories, then suddenly felt a wave of discomfort.
“That time, when you took down that boar in a single blow···.”
“Wait, now isn't the time to talk about that. More importantly, there's a much bigger problem.”
Ivan's expression turned cold.
The abrupt change in attitude made Havel anxious. What could this important problem possibly be? In the tense atmosphere, Ivan asked solemnly.
“Havel, when was the last time you···washed?”
Havel blinked. He could barely grasp that Ivan wasn't joking.
“Who knows? I haven't bothered counting, so I can't say. Warriors don't concern themselves with that sort of thing.”
“······What?”
On hearing this, Ivan not only stared at Havel as if he were an incomprehensible monster, but even backed away from him.
Havel was a little hurt.
“I don't know what you're making such a fuss about. You don't wash either, do you?”
Ivan was horrified by the blunt answer.
“That's ridiculous!! I would never be so barbaric···.”
While angrily protesting the vicious slander, Ivan caught the horrible stench wafting from his own body.
It wasn't much different from Havel's—if anything, it was worse, perhaps because he had been bedridden with a serious illness.
What humiliation. Ivan lowered his head, feeling his pride as a civilized man being stripped away. Seeing this, Havel was genuinely delighted and snickered.
“I never thought I'd see you make such a dumbfounded expression. Losing your memory may not be entirely bad after all.”
Ivan barely restrained the urge to kill that only a true brother could inspire. To be honest, he thought he'd lose if they fought.
“···I want to wash up. Can you lend me something like soap?”
“Hmm, what is soap?”
“······.”
Ivan once again realized that these barbarians' civilization was filthier and more backward than he'd imagined.
But it was too early to despair.
Any seasoned web novel reader would naturally know how to make soap in preparation for a situation like this.
Given enough time and ingredients, Ivan was confident he could make soap, crude though it might be.
The problem was that it might expose his identity, but for soap, he was willing to take that risk.
He couldn't compromise on this, at least. If you couldn't even wash properly, were you really human? You were a damn animal.
“Havel, I have a favor to ask. Could you bring me some oil and lye?”
“It wouldn't be difficult, but why would you need those···. Never mind. Since you're the one asking, you must have a reason. Wait here.”
Havel brought back plenty of ingredients without asking any questions.
Ivan was sincerely grateful for his brother's generosity. He also hoped Havel would be just as forgiving of what came next.
***
After several attempts and failures, Ivan ultimately succeeded in making soap.
Ivan first shared the achievement with his brother, the greatest contributor to the magnificent invention that would go down in the history of this other world.
“So this is···the soap you were talking about?”
“Yeah. Isn't it amazing?”
Havel stared silently at the soap. Ivan read clear wariness and distrust in his gaze.
Naturally, he knew things weren't going to go smoothly.
‘I think I'm fucked···. Was I too hasty after all?’
Ivan seriously wondered whether this was the time to bite his tongue.
Contrary to his expectations, Havel wet his hand and slowly applied the soap. Finally, he rinsed the soap away with water and gazed at his hand, its grime thoroughly removed, then exclaimed.
“Ivan, you were right. This really is an amazing thing!”
Ivan couldn't tell whether Havel genuinely thought so or was simply trying to save his friend's face.
But he knew there was no need to distinguish between the two.
Havel's true brother was already dead, and Ivan was merely an unwelcome guest occupying an empty body.
With that thought in mind, Ivan smiled bitterly.
“I think other people will be able to recognize its value too. It might be difficult right now, but···.”
Knock-knock. The sound of knocking spread through the room at a steady rhythm.
“May I come in for a moment?”
The speaker threw the door open before anyone could answer. Ivan thought it was rather rude.
“What kind of bastard···”
Irritated, Ivan was about to let loose a stream of curses, but then his eyes met those of the person who had entered.
Surprisingly, it was a familiar face.
“Oh dear, my apologies. I was in such a hurry that I made a mistake.”
The priest chuckled warmly, like a kindly old man.
“I hear you've shut yourself in here making something remarkable, and I couldn't contain my curiosity. Would it be all right if I took a look?”
Ivan and Havel secretly exchanged glances.
They sensed something ominous, but knew that hiding it would only make the priest find them even more suspicious.
It would probably be fine. How much trouble could making nothing more than soap possibly cause?
Ivan placed the soap in the priest's palm.
“Yes, this is an object called soap. It's slippery, so be careful.”
“Oh, the texture is rather fascinating. Where did you get something like···?”
As the priest grasped the soap resting in his palm, the laws of nature caused it to slip from his grasp.
“Huh? What is this···?”
Flustered, the priest clenched his hand harder.
The soap then shot out of his hand at tremendous speed and struck him squarely on the nose.
Drip-drip. Blood dripped nonstop from his old, unsightly nostrils. Ivan had a feeling things had somehow gone off the rails.
“H-have you seen such an evil abomination!!!”
Sure enough, the priest's face flushed crimson as he roared in fury.