I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell-Chapter 386

WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Chapter 386

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The Suicidal IV

We first made our way back to the Korean Peninsula.

And for a few days we lay low, quietly holding our breath as if to say, “Nothing happened at our resort, nope, not a thing.”

All of this was at Noh Do-hwa’s insistence.

“Hmph. Even if we start dating, nobody will care if we proclaim ‘Day 1’ on a deserted island now, will they…?”

“Our aim is, after all, to observe how the rest of humanity reacts, and to discover the perfect strategy that suits those reactions. Wouldn’t you say so…?”

“So.”

“Go back to Busan and spend about a week acting as if a mouse has died, please…”

Naturally I wondered what scheme lay behind those words. When I asked the perfectly reasonable question, Noh Do-hwa merely lifted the corner of her lips in a faint smile.

“Just sit back and watch. Things will get rather entertaining…”

Because of that—

I returned to the graveyard on the roof of the Tower of Babel, to the classroom where the elder twin had been Time Sealed, and began interrogating Cheon Yo-hwa.

“How on earth did you persuade Noh Do-hwa?”

“Ahaha. Well. Even if you ask me, I’m not sure.”

Cheon Yo-hwa sat on a classroom desk, swinging her legs.

“As you know, ‘the me from back then’ and ‘the me now’ are different. Every time you enter or leave this place, I reset.”

“…Even so, your essence doesn’t change. You must have an idea.”

“Hmm-m. You said you passed her some notes, right? May I see what was written on them?”

I wrote them directly on the blackboard.

‘Reverse thinking,’ ‘Simply trust one human being,’ ‘A wager,’ ‘Cowardice of the defeated.’

‘If you want more, see the back,’ ‘Miracle logic: Invoice yourselves as debt to get what you want. Then claim it’s separate. Detach! Booster! Launch!’ ‘Good thing this person is kind, right?’

At first Cheon Yo-hwa tilted her head, but as the white letters multiplied her expression gradually changed.

“Ah-ha.”

“You understand?”

“Yes! And your handwriting is truly beautiful, Sunbae! If you’d been born in the Middle Ages you’d have lived comfortably as a scribe. You were born in the wrong era, Sunbae.”

“…Not that, brat.”

“Ahaha. Just joking, just joking.”

Cheon Yo-hwa chuckled.

“Mm-hmm. Most of this would seriously damage Ms. Noh Do-hwa’s honor, so I must keep it secret. Still! Don’t worry! There’s exactly one part I can explain.”

“Which part?”

“You said Ms. Noh Do-hwa asked if a second note was ready right after receiving the first, yes?”

I nodded.

“Right. That was my first question, why did she assume there would definitely be another note?”

“Obviously! From Ms. Noh Do-hwa’s point of view, a person named Cheon Yo-hwa pushing her toward romance with the Undertaker is automatically suspicious!”

Chk.

Proclaiming “Here comes the answer arc,” Cheon Yo-hwa proudly declared.

Then, apparently to mimic Noh Do-hwa, she scowled, produced a monocle from somewhere, and put it on.

“Hrrmm? Cheon Yo-hwa? The self-proclaimed comrade who was Time Sealed? Why would she recommend I date someone? What gain could there be?”

“…”

“On top of that, she’s openly confessed for ages that she likes the Undertaker. Now she wants to help me date him? Oh-ho. Something stinks.”

The kid’s impersonation skills were unexpectedly high.

Cheon Yo-hwa removed the monocle.

“Sunbae. Ms. Noh Do-hwa never moves unless she first grasps the other person’s real intent and desire. She always assumes a trap.”

“Mm.”

“So the second note was written to bare my own heart.”

Its content was simple:

‘Simply trust one human being.’

‘A wager.’

Cheon Yo-hwa flashed a bright smile.

“Ms. Noh Do-hwa is wondering whether Sunbae can truly reach a happy ending.”

“…”

“So she reserved a bad ending in advance. But against that, I replied that I ‘simply trust this one human being, the Undertaker.’”

I see.

“Hence ‘a wager.’”

“Exactly!”

Cheon Yo-hwa beamed.

“Can Sunbae—the Undertaker—really draw out ‘an ending that every last one of us can completely accept’? And beyond that… will even ‘Noh Do-hwa’ be included in that ‘every last one’?”

“…”

“Ms. Noh Do-hwa doesn’t believe in that possibility. Naturally so—it looks impossible.”

Indeed.

Noh Do-hwa always distrusted happiness, rejecting the very word ‘happy ending.’

With a 99.9 percent probability the world would not escape destruction, and so she naturally bet on that side.

Meanwhile—the girl before me was the exact opposite.

She was the type to stake everything on the 0.01 percent chance.

Not because it was ‘hopeful’ or ‘romantic,’ but because, very simply, the lower the odds, the greater the thrill when you win: the logic of a gambling addict.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t explain the other notes. You’ll need to hear those from Ms. Noh Do-hwa herself. Hehe. Of course, you can obtain them with her mouth—or with her lips, if you like.”

“Yo-hwa, do you….”

“Yes?”

“Do you truly believe I can reach a happy ending? Why? How?” 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

The smile faded from Cheon Yo-hwa’s face.

“Sunbae. Humans are always looking for a reason for defeat they can accept.”

Even so, a faint echo of her smile lingered at her lips.

“If I lose because of you, I can accept that defeat without any question. In fact, I’d gladly lose.”

“…”

“To believe in someone—if that belief is genuine—means you’re ready not only to trust in their success but also to embrace their failure. Just as you trusted me, trusted us.”

Cheon Yo-hwa said softly,

“I trust you too, Sunbae.”

A week passed in a blur.

Given my recent narration, I may seem to have focused only on human relationships.

But that’s merely because I tackle one theme per episode.

In the 1,000th cycle there were incidents far more serious than my social experiments, and I intend to cover them in the very next episode.

Thus—

[By the way, Mr. Undertaker.]

[Did you enjoy your vacation in Saipan?]

“…”

Even if the Saintess sent me such a message, it would be wrong to assume her interests were confined to ‘this sort of thing.’

She was the Saintess. She ceaselessly strove for the security and ethics of the Korean Peninsula.

Only occasionally, about once a day, did she strike at my heart with a razor-sharp question.

“Ah, yes, well. You could say I enjoyed it. It was genuine rest, a proper vacation.”

I fought desperately to keep my expression steady.

“Besides, Ms. Saintess, you know full well that even if you set up a playground, Director Noh Do-hwa would never play.”

[Indeed, that is true.]

“So I built a hut and left her to rest thoroughly. Unless she’s forced, that woman never rests.”

[…]

I felt it—the gaze of suspicion. The silence.

Yet I absolutely refused to let a hint of emotion show on my face.

The experience of a regressor is no joke, unless it’s a catastrophe on the level of ‘confessing to Sim Ah-ryeon and being rejected,’ nothing rattles my mental fortitude.

[I see.]

After a very brief silence, long enough for the Saintess to ‘pause’ and examine my face from every angle, her message continued.

[Then the fact that Ms. Noh Do-hwa purchased a large quantity of going-out clothes yesterday has nothing to do with the time you spent vacationing together on a deserted island?]

How could I not be startled by that remark?

“P-pardon?”

[Exactly as I said. Yesterday Ms. Noh Do-hwa, accompanied by two staff members, bought a set of bright, fashionable outfits.]

“Uh, I… this is the first I’ve heard of it. Didn’t she usually just throw on whatever rags, cover them with a doctor’s coat, and call it a day?”

[Yes. She claims it’s because she can’t be bothered. To the public she’s popular for setting an example of frugal living.]

Honestly, if the Regressor Alliance had to arrest only two fashion terrorists, Sim Ah-ryeon and Noh Do-hwa would top the list.

“Hmph.”

[…It seems you truly didn’t know, Mr. Undertaker.]

Perhaps my stunned expression erased the last shred of her doubt. The Saintess continued.

[I apologize. It looked as if Ms. Noh Do-hwa’s feelings had shifted dramatically. I ended up questioning you as if interrogating.]

“N-no problem. Director Noh Do-hwa is of supreme importance, after all.”

[Yes. And in addition, today there is a hairdresser… no. Never mind. I’m sorry to disturb you during work.]

“?”

The ominous signs did not end there.

“Mr. Matiz. We have an emergency.”

That evening, Yu Ji-won barged into the guild dormitory. Since her room was next door, invasion was easy.

“Huh? What’s up?”

“It is an extremely serious matter. Director Noh Do-hwa has….”

“Noh Do-hwa?”

“…been possessed by an anomaly.”

“?”

Yu Ji-won’s face was deadly serious. I suspected she’d looked more relaxed even while slaughtering her own parents.

“Uh… Ji-won, maybe you don’t know, but Director Noh Do-hwa isn’t the sort who gets possessed easily.”

“I thought so too. But after serving at her side for the past week, I reached an unavoidable conclusion. The current Director is… abnormal.”

“What exactly is abnormal?”

“Shh.”

Yu Ji-won glanced around, then leaned close like a spy passing Soviet secrets.

“The Director asked me whether her clothes suited her.”

?

“She knows I worked as a fashion model in my youth—mainly look-books. Few people in the Corps rival my eye for style.”

“It’s nice to see you still advertise yourself as naturally as breathing. And?”

“About a week ago, she began with, [Now that I think of it, Team Leader Yu has good fashion sense, doesn’t she?]—and next thing I knew, she summoned Busan’s hottest designer and pattern maker.”

???

“What on earth are you saying?”

“I share precisely the feelings you’re experiencing now, Mr. Matiz. And that’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

“Yes. It’s hard to phrase, but… her way of speaking.”

“Her way of speaking?”

“Originally the Director’s tone was like gathering all of humanity’s pessimism, hauling it into her mouth, and letting it dance on her tongue.”

“Ji-won, you’ve been reading a lot, your prose has improved.”

“Thank you. But since a week ago, the Director’s speech has… um.”

“What? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“…”

At that moment Yu Ji-won shut her mouth, clearly distressed.

“…I apologize, Mr. Matiz.”

“Huh?”

“I thought it urgent to brief you, yet the Seoul Yongsan control tower seems to think otherwise.”

My jaw dropped.

“You’re telling me the Saintess telepathically stopped you from finishing that sentence??”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, Saintess? Ms. Saintess? Could we have a quick talk? What is going on!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Matiz.”

Yu Ji-won used every surviving facial muscle to display the utmost contrition.

“Even if I withdraw now, your affection for me will not change. Regrettably I have not forged such bonds with others.”

She bowed.

“Thus I must focus on the variable of ‘other people’ rather than the constant that is you. Politics and human relations hinge on controlling variables. I shall take my leave. Have a good night.”

“Ji-won? Ji-won. Ji-won! If you start talking, finish! Hey! Yu Ji-won! Dobongsan, you little—!”

Thud.

“…”

Left alone in my room, I could only gape.

What the heck? Seriously, what the heck?

That question was answered the very next morning, the day the promised week ended.

Dawn.

After spending a sleepless night in anxiety, I left the guild, exited the Inunaki Tunnel, and found Noh Do-hwa waiting at the entrance.

“Huh?”

Noh Do-hwa offered a faint smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Undertaker.”

“…”

“I thought I’d go for an early walk again today, and suddenly you came to mind, so I waited a little.”

Objection.

Noh Do-hwa had never waited outside for me to emerge from the tunnel. Such an event was impossible under classical mechanics.

Nor did she ever end her sentences with gentle ellipses or greet someone with a mild ‘Good morning.’ Such an event was impossible under quantum mechanics.

Furthermore, Noh Do-hwa wearing a shy, breeze-hidden smile was equally impossible.

Her usually messy black hair—half-dried and sticking out in every direction—was now smooth as silk, swaying gently in the wind. She brushed it back with the back of her hand and smiled again—also impossible.

And finally—

Noh Do-hwa, who always wore a battered doctor’s coat over whatever rags she owned, now donned a perfectly fitted outfit—clearly commissioned from a designer and pattern maker who had poured their talent and hours into crafting it—yet still radiated the feel of ‘everyday, casual wear.’ Impossible.

In other words—

“Noh Do-hwa… Director?”

“Yes, Mr. Undertaker.”

The woman before me had become beautiful.

So beautiful that even Yu Ji-won, whose looks were an impregnable fortress, might retreat half a step.

“I know you’re busy, but… I recently found a place with delicious sangria.”

Seeing my shock (and finally noticing she wore no monocle), Noh Do-hwa blushed faintly and, somewhat shyly, continued.

“If you have a little free time, would you like to take a walk with me?”

“…”

Mo Gwang-seo, Lord Jesus Christ.

What in heaven’s name is happening to me?

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