I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell-Chapter 340

The Surrenderer II

As mentioned several times before, it is a fool’s errand to expect anything like humanity or human warmth from an Anomaly. After all, Anomalies possess neither “intellect” nor “reason” nor “conscience.”

(We’ll table the discussion of times when human beings also sometimes lack those qualities.)

In that sense, you could also say that Anomalies have no “mind,” and because they have no mind, by Aristotle’s syllogism, they of course had no concept of “peace of mind” either.[1] Thus, the proposition that “an Outer God lost its mind” cannot be established in the first place.

And rightfully so. How could the Admin lose a peace it never had?

– Kwaaaaang!

And yet, when the impossible needed doing, Dok-seo delivered.

– Kraaah! Kaaaaaang!

I arrived in the Saharan plains of Africa— No, I mean, in Daegu on urgent business. The entire area had been consumed by Void Poison long before now and consequently been turned into a desert that stretched across the horizon. Thanks to that, we now had a new type of biome here on the Korean peninsula.

Today, that extraordinary visual spectacle came with an additional auditory effect.

– KWAAAAANG!

Boom! Kaboooom!

Something unseen was rampaging in the heart of the desert.

Whenever “it” thrashed about, sandstorms blew in all directions, and tremors shook the ground.

– K-kieeek!

– Geeek! Kiiiiik!

The local Anomalies that inhabited the desert were so overwhelmed by “its” power that they scattered, fleeing in all directions.

Of course, having the will to run didn’t necessarily mean you succeeded in escaping. Unfortunately for those Anomalies that hadn’t learned the Teleport skill from their ancestors, they got squashed to death with a sickening crunch under the invisible weight of “it.”

As the corpses of Anomalies were trampled underfoot, “it” let out a roar.

– Kraaaaaaaah!

Complete pandemonium ensued.

Sharing my field of vision, the Saintess murmured, [There’s... nothing visible about it at all.]

“Indeed.”

[But with so much sand flying around, we can at least make out an outline.]

“That’s right.”

[It looks like... a western dragon.][2]

It was a legend from ages past, so ancient that it had essentially gone out of circulation, making the original text hard to find.

Invisible Dragon.

A masterpiece famed for having one of the most perfect prologues seen across the literary spectrum. On the Korean peninsula alone, it stands as one of the two great pillars alongside Kim Hoon’s Every Abandoned Island Blossomed.[3] ṞÅNꝊ𝔟ÈŞ

That heart-stirring prelude, towering higher the more you look up to it, reads as follows:

Behold the use of plain words.

A writer’s frail instinct might try to avoid repeating the same phrasing, changing “roared” to “howled” or “bellowed” or what have you. But not this text. No, this text boldly ignored such attempts, pursuing the single word “roared” without faltering, with a craftsman’s dedication.

And the rhythm it found! By repeating, “I won, I won,” over and over and over again, the text achieved a kind of cadence so rarely found in modern Korean poetry—a masterpiece in extreme metrics.

Can you appreciate the aesthetics woven into that prologue, dear human? It is the pinnacle of postmodernism, a challenge to the senses.

“Look at this fine piece of work,” it boldly proclaims. “You feeling our art?”

No one dared complain that the text was displayed in the deeply irritating Gulim font. Back in those days, Gulim was the very foundation upon which all great amateurs stood.

The fact that this classic appeared in 2002 sent shockwaves through modern literature.

Think about it. The main body of the Admin of the Infinite Metagame is a white-haired girl. Its design has zero originality. As mentioned when we first subdued it, this white-haired girl was inspired by that stereotypical NPC who goes, Hi? I’m God. And the foundational work upon which that character is based, Fate/Stay Night, had been published in...

2003.

Yes. Just one year after Invisible Dragon was released.

“Bah...!” A tremor ran through me. The grandfather blood that coursed through my veins began to seethe wildly. “All of the puzzles... they have been solved!”

Somehow, I’d suspected it. A centuries-old Anomaly that made a habit of rummaging through ancient works, an Outer God with 1 HP. Of course it was up to something like this.

[Um, Undertaker?]

“It’s all a scheme by the Admin of the Infinite Metagame!”

Why did the Invisible Dragon appear out of nowhere, despite never once showing its face in previous cycles? Even now, we couldn’t see its physical form. I had no actual evidence, only the release years of Invisible Dragon and Fate/Stay Night... And yet I had exposed the truth of it:

The Admin of the Infinite Metagame was the mastermind behind this all.

My own deductive power scared me a little. If this continued for a year or so, over four hundred people around me could very well die.

After hearing my perfect reasoning, the Saintess murmured, [Mr. Undertaker... Strangely enough, whenever something is even slightly related to Ms. Dok-seo, you seem to become... a different person.]

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

[You act like a different person. Or should I say your mental age regresses? Wasn’t it just last Wednesday that you visited my place to discuss Kant’s pure reason? How, then—]

I cleared my throat. “That is a complete misunderstanding. Much like the baseless slander that you secretly spy on me with Clairvoyance, even while I’m in the bathroom.”

The Saintess sunk like a ship. Yet, like the captain of the Titanic, she steadfastly fulfilled her duty even as water flooded the hull.

In a breathless voice, she asked, [How do you plan to subjugate that Anomaly? Even if you know it’s the Admin of the Infinite Metagame’s doing, it doesn’t look like an easy opponent.]

“Ah, yes. Surprisingly enough, it will simple. First, please log in to SG Net’s novel serialization board. Search for Invisible Dragon, and you’ll find some documents.”

[What? Oh, you’re right. I see them.] Then the Saintess muttered, [And the upload date is listed as 2002, before SG Net even existed...]

Surely, it was the Outer God’s handiwork.

I also had surmised why it specifically spawned the Invisible Dragon in Daefrica. The Invisible Dragon originally belonged to the genre of “fantasy,” yet even in an apocalypse, remnants of modern civilization still remained that defied the fantasy tropes. But Daegu? The city and everything in its vicinity had been cleared of anything resembling city life. With some effort, you can pass its desert landscape off as a fantasy setting.

“In the original story, the Invisible Dragon teleports to reality only after annihilating its world. Right now, it’s stuck in Daegu, but once it wipes out all the local Anomalies in the desert, it’ll head outside.”

[Ah... I see. We have to subjugate it before that happens.] I could practically see the Saintess tilting her head as the next thought came to her, even over Telepathy. [So you plan to use Aura, risking the chance of provoking Leviathan?]

No, there was no need.

First, I asked the Saintess to summon Dang Seo-rin. No matter which cycle we’re in, Seo-rin was always deep into Constellation business, and since Busan was nearby, she arrived quickly.

“Hey, Undertaker. Haaah, it’s always so hot here near Daegu.”

“Indeed. We don’t have much time, so let’s subjugate that invisible Anomaly first.”

“Oh, okay. It’s been making a racket, so it’s been annoying me too.”

Seo-rin began to sing.

Ah―—ah, ah―ah, aaaa―—

Instantly, the roar that had been shaking the entire desert began to fade.

– Kraaaah! Aaaah... aaa...

It was the power of Seo-rin’s Cursed Song Incantation, specifically her Anti-Resonance. By emitting sound waves in precise opposition to the enemy’s, she completely negated all noise, like magic.

Keen readers may have noticed: Yes, this was her signature technique, the same skill she used to lull the Meteor Shower to sleep back when we first subjugated it.

“Okayyy, song is over! Now I’ll set up a loudspeaker here to keep replaying the recording, yeah?”

“Right.”

Moments ago, the Invisible Dragon had been screaming as if tearing the sky apart, but now it had fallen silent. Now, only Seo-rin’s beautiful singing voice echoed across the desert.

Judging by the way it stomped its feet, maybe we should call it the Invisible Caterpillar instead of the Invisible Dragon.

I exhaled. “If the Invisible Dragon can’t cry out, it’s no longer the Invisible Dragon. A simple strategy, right?”

[...]

“Oh, just in case, please edit the novel that the Admin of the Infinite Metagame hid on SG Net and run a spell check.”

The Saintess carried out my instructions.

Roooar!

Among all dragons, the mightiest was the roaring Invisible Dragon.

The Invisible Dragon was oh-so-strong, the strongest of dragon-kind.

It beat gods and demons. It won against all who came to challenge it.

The Invisible Dragon was the only one of its kind.

Anyway, it roared.

Ah.

I couldn’t help wiping away a tear. What a savage defilement of the original text.

“Alas! The proud spirit once exuded by our dear Young-geun has vanished without a trace!”

[...]

For some reason, even the Saintess—who was far beyond the range of Seo-rin’s Anti-Resonance—was also inflicted with the Silence status. But the effect was evident.

– Kieeek! Geeek, Kiiiik!

– ...! ...! ...!

From an Invisible Tyrant to an Invisible Worm, the dragon had devolved. The Anomalies that had been running away now turned back and beat on the “unseen” thing.

It was somewhat sad to watch a once-glorious being brought so low, but such was the irresistible flow of time.

Subjugation—COMPLETE.

If that had solved the problem, we could’ve had a happy ending. Unfortunately, no such luck was to be had.

As I said, the Admin of the Infinite Metagame had lost its composure.

Why had it suddenly unleashed the Invisible Dragon? Did it believe it could defeat me, the Undertaker, that way? Think it could reverse the tide that had already turned?

No.

It just... got pissed off.

In short, objective power analysis no longer mattered to the Admin of the Infinite Metagame. It just wanted to throw a big middle finger to the Miko who disrespected it, to the Regressor who made the Miko that way, and to the entire world that had allowed the Regressor to be born in the first place.

“Hey, mister! Something huge, huge is happening! All those works from the old internet era called the Seven Forbidden Tomes are going wild! Members of the Samcheon World Guild suddenly started worshipping something called Harry & Monsters instead of Harry Potter! The great witch is going on a rampage! You’re the only one who can stop this, mister!”

The momentary high I’d felt after elegantly subjugating the Invisible Dragon had been dashed, My brain temperature swiftly returned to a cool 38.5°C.

We’d known for a while that the Admin of the Infinite Metagame, an Outer God, was lying low and waiting for a chance to make its comeback. A typical vanquished-king-returns story. But now that it had decided to double, triple, quadruple down on its tantrum, the whiplash of events was leaving me dizzy.

“Wait a second. Infinite Metagame, let’s talk it out. We can use words to solve this.”

I rushed over to turn on the laptop, but oh? How baffling. Its avatar—a white-haired girl who always rushed over eagerly whenever I booted it up, hoping to seduce me or something—was nowhere to be seen.

Well... Actually, no, it was there. Just there about 20 meters away from the monitor screen, curled up in a ball with its back turned to me.

The white-haired girl avatar was smaller than the Recycle Bin icon on a desktop. Anyone else might not have noticed it.

“Admin? Ms. Metagame?”

[...]

“O Great Adminship, the peerless AI that can degrade the entire world into mere characters of its novel?”

[...]

“You know that using your power in these petty ways won’t help you. It’s only slightly annoying for me, but it poses no real threat to my forces.”

Bzzzzzt.

Like a laptop that’d been on its last legs for five years, the screen fuzzed with static. Then the desktop background changed. Now, on a blank white screen (matching the avatar’s white hair), there was only a single character:

凸

Uh. Hmm.

“...If I were to say that using that character as a makeshift middle finger is an old-school touch, would that make you even angrier?”

[...]

“Oh, by the way, imagine I said that line with ‘(lol)’ appended at the end. Just to suit your tastes.”

Flick!

The laptop screen went black.

Maybe if I had stopped mocking it right then, comforted the Admin of the Infinite Metagame, shown a bit of kindness, things might have turned around. But how could I resist savoring the downfall of an Outer God that had plummeted to the bottom?

I, the Undertaker, had always lived true to my own desires. I believed that was the secret to maintaining a healthy mindset as a regressor. And every ounce of satisfaction came with a price.

“Aaaaagh, misterrrrr!”

Boom!

Dok-seo struck the door with a flying kick again. By now, the hinges were starting to break. She landed in a flashy flourish.

If you looked at her status screen, you’d see [Skill: Novel Writing] had been stuck at the same level for years, while [Skill: Kicking] had soared past level 90.

“S-something huge happened! Mega huge!”

“You always come to me saying it’s something huge, you know.”

“I’m being so for real this time, though! It’s, l-like, really, really big! Come on, hurry!”

I followed.

Dok-seo led me to Haeundae. Though civilization had collapsed and the concept of vacationing had disappeared, the outdoor gym Seo Gyu set up was still thriving. The gym members were all bustling about the beach. Even if the world ended tomorrow, they’d lift a barbell one more time.

“Huh? What’s this now?”

“They keep washing in from the sea.”

“What does it say?”

“Dunno. Something about serialization? It’s going off on some weird stuff.”

Stone tablets.

Like the Rosetta Stone from Egypt, monument slabs etched with densely packed text were floating in the sea and drifting ashore at Haeundae. Some gym members tried to approach one of these monoliths, but Dok-seo rushed at them in terror.

“Stoooop!”

“Huh? Who are you?”

“I’m the administrator here! Don’t look at them! Don’t you dare! They’re all Anomalies! If you read them, you’ll lose your mind!”

“Whoa, damn.”

“Get back! Hurry, hurry! Don’t even try to read what’s carved in these stones!”

Sure enough, though she never writes, she wanders the Void, and that made Oh Dok-seo a surprisingly seasoned Awakener.

Following her guidance, the gym members scattered.

While Dok-seo was clearing people away, I drew near to one of the dozens of monoliths stuck in Haeundae.

I read the inscription.

Resting a Little Longer (Must-Read)

I’m so sorry...

This is your author, LiteraryGirl, speaking...

As I mentioned in my last notice, I’ve been suffering from severe burnout, so I decided to take a break from my projects and immerse myself in various works by other authors to recharge my creative battery.

But alas, I didn’t realize at the time that burnout can cast its sinister spell not only on writing but also on reading...

So although I told my readers I’d take time off to recharge, in the month or so since I stopped uploading, I haven’t managed to read a single work...

And yet, at the same time, I discovered hope.

Yesterday, I noticed I was enjoying a free web game distributed on SG Net, and it startled me.

Wait, I thought to myself. I’m enjoying a work again, aren’t I?

That’s right.

Who says creative works have to be novels? The song of Korea’s absolute top star in the Great Witch of Samcheon World, the music of the Nymphcalypse channel that plays on the radio daily, the occasional games that trend on SG Net—they are all, all of them, legitimate “works.”

As soon as I realized that, it was like a door to heaven opened in my mind!

Yes. I’m not a lazy bug who’s been ignoring all nourishment after telling my readers I needed a break.

The sunlight of this world that shines upon me. Like an environment that wholeheartedly bestows its moisture and light upon plants, everything around me has continued to whisper works of “recharging” to me.

I have nothing to fear anymore.

Even if my progress is slow, excruciatingly slow, I am definitely taking small steps forward, heading toward that unknown realm known as serialization.

So I ask my readers to please wait just a bit longer for my small struggles.

I’m listening to songs, listening to music, playing games. That is how I, LiteraryGirl, am gradually moving closer to you all.

Give me just this month and next month, plus or minus about 20 days, and I should truly be able to return this time.

Lately I’ve been really into games.

This little step from me, LiteraryGirl.

Please, watch over me.

I fell silent. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

The monoliths that washed up onshore bore the same message, and it wasn’t just in Korean. The message also appeared in Japanese, Chinese, Hindi, Arabic, German, French, English—dozens of languages from around the world.

Having dispersed the crowd, Dok-seo stomped over to me, fuming. “Ugh, seriously! I never wrote any notice like that! Who the heck is flinging this slander around? Seriously, if I find them, I’ll dox them on SG Net so hard!”

She wasn’t wrong. She’d never written such a notice. Not in this cycle.

But I, who entrusted her with the job of writing Undertaker: The Romance, the Regressor with Complete Memory, remembered it perfectly.

‘This is the 13th notice Dok-seo posted on SG Net’s novel serialization board in the 788th cycle...!’

I glanced at another monolith lying next to it.

‘And this one... It’s the legendary text she uploaded in the 813th cycle, your 39th message, where you torched not only your own readers but every lurker on the serialization board...!’

All around us, and all around that too.

Dozens of monoliths, hundreds of monoliths, all of them...

Proof of all those times Oh Dok-seo had abandoned her serialization...!

Pure disgrace incarnate!

“Ugh. Anyway, I was actually gonna build a three chapter backlog and resume uploading next month for real. I have no idea where this nonsense is coming from.”

Dok-seo turned to me, the sea breeze at her back and her smile wide and cheery.

“Right, mister?”

The next day, a total of 1,131 of these monoliths landed on Busan’s Haeundae shore.

Footnotes:

[1] This is likely in reference to a quote often misattributed to Aristotle but that was actually written in a treatise on anxiety and mental peace by Seneca the Younger: “No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness.”

[2] Could be a running joke after the SSS-Clas Suicide Hunter artist mistakenly drew a western dragon in the manhwa’s martial arc instead of an eastern dragon.

[3] Invisible Dragon has been mentioned before in previous chapters, but the story would more accurately be described as “infamous” rather than “famous” for its... particular quality in both Korean and English versions alike. The other work mentioned, Every Abandoned Island Blossomed, has yet to be translated into English.