I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell-Chapter 401

“Unnie, um… you know…”

“Polite speech.”

“You know… ma’am.”

“Yes. What is it?”

“I think I’ve fallen in love.”

“That’s why I told you to practice using formal speech — if Father hears you talking casually, you’ll get scolded for no reason. Wait. What did you just say?”

“I said I fell in love.”

One day, my adorable little sister confided that to me.

I put down my pen and looked up sharply.

“Oh. Uh-huh. I see… right…”

“Unnie, your eyes suddenly look scary.”

“My eyes are your eyes. If I look scary to you, that’s because deep down, you want to look scary. So—who is it?”

“The tutor.”

“Ah—our old tutor? Hmm. Well, our family would never tolerate same-sex love, but don’t worry, little sister! Once I send Father off on a splendid ‘filial piety vacation,’ I’ll tear down this cursed family tradition from the ground up—”

“No. I mean our current tutor.”

“……”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. If you glare any harder, someone’s going to die, seriously. Unnie, this is my first love and first crush! You’ll help me, right?”

So that’s how it was.

I’m supposed to help my younger sister fall in love with my future self — helping her make that romance happen with all my heart and soul?

“Hmmm…”

Yeah, no.

Long ago, in ancient Greece, there was a man who loved arguing with people so much that he was finally branded a public nuisance and executed.

That man was fond of this saying:

“Know thyself.”

Recently, I’ve been taking that quote very much to heart.

A person who doesn’t know their own nature — who pretends to be wise about the world but remains ignorant about themselves — that’s a truly pitiful soul.

And with that in mind, I say unto thee:

“You thieving bastard.”

“…? Excuse me, Miss Cheon Hwa?”

“Oh, it’s nothing! Hehehe. I was just deep in thought and accidentally said my inner monologue out loud again!”

“Ahh. I see. Well, that’s fine. I have a friend who often mutters to himself, so I’m used to it.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes. You know her as well, Miss Cheon Hwa. The one who used to tutor you and your sister…”

“Ahh, our first tutor, right. You must be close to her?”

“Ahaha, close? Well! We are… rather acquainted, yes.”

“You absolute bastard.”

“Pardon?”

“Ah, sorry! My chronic spontaneous self-talk syndrome just slipped through my lips again.”

“……”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, I get it. You’ve never met the daughter of a cult leader who built a thousand-pyong mansion on a prime mountain slope in Sejong City to run his church, huh? Yeah, I guess that would be a bit fascinating.”

“A-ah, no, it’s nothing.”

The man before me—

No, it’s a hassle to censor it, so let’s just call him the Undertaker.

The Undertaker, in short, was me from the first regression.

And if you ask what makes the “first regression” different from an ordinary person… the answer is: nothing.

A regressor who hasn’t actually regressed yet—what even is that supposed to mean?

It’s like “fish-shaped bread without fish” …except there’s no bread either!

It just collapses in your hands! The red bean filling drips out!

You can’t even eat it!

And if you can’t eat it, well, we call that food waste.

“You piece of trash.”

“……?!”

At my low mutter, the first-regression Undertaker flinched.

Heh, what’s this? Are you already trembling from a mere hint of killing intent?

Pathetic.

Truly pathetic, my past self.

Well, I suppose it makes sense—someone still hundreds of regressions away from the 1,000th loop wouldn’t be able to withstand my presence.

“Th-then, Miss Cheon Hwa, shall we end the break here and move on to the next lesson…”

“What’s your retirement plan?”

“…What?”

“Do you have a stable financial strategy that can keep up with inflation?”

“Uh… what?”

“Ah, sorry. You probably don’t even have seed money yet, huh. My sister and I are just too rich, I didn’t think about that. Let me rephrase. How do you plan to secure your seed money, by when, and by what method?”

“……”

“…You mean you don’t have any plans?”

“Eek!”

“I see. You’re just going to trust your youthful passion and face the world head-on. That kind of fiery spirit isn’t bad, but that’s exactly why you’ve been tumbling around for over ten thousand years! Do you even realize that?!”

“I-I don’t really know, but I’m sorry!”

“You don’t know, and yet you dared to flirt with my sister?!”

“No! I swear, that’s not my intention at all! Even if Miss Yo Hwa harbored such feelings, I would never—”

“What?! You’d dare reject my sister’s confession?!”

“P-please, spare me…”

This isn’t going anywhere.

Even as I glared down at the Undertaker—myself—who’d thrown himself flat on the floor, my anger didn’t subside.

How could such a pitiful, spineless man even exist?

…Oh right.

That’s me.

That’s literally me.

So this is how Archer must have felt.

“Um, Miss?”

“Yes…?”

“Why have you also laid down next to me on the floor? May I—”

“Please shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Well. At least there were some results.

“So, the Undertaker of this era knew Go Yori. No, more than that—he was probably working closely with her…”

I’d already suspected as much when I met Yoo Ji-won during her middle school days.

“It’s certain now.”

That was very valuable information.

But still, a question lingered:

Where exactly did this information come from?

“This is Yo Hwa’s dream… but she couldn’t possibly remember this.”

“Even with the help of the tutorial fairies, there’s no way she could’ve recovered such detailed memories about Go Yori or the Undertaker.”

“Then…”

Could it be Go Yori’s dream instead?

“From deep within the unconscious, Go Yori’s data must have backflowed upward—like sewage flooding up during the rainy season.”

It was bizarre.

All I’d done was dive into my sister’s □, her heart’s hollow void, to fill it.

“But somehow… Yo Hwa’s □ is connected to Go Yori’s subconscious? Why?”

It was a mystery.

Just how much of what I was seeing in this dream was real, and how much was corrupted memory fragments?

“That’s what I need to find out next.”

“……”

“Oh, are you still following my request to stay quiet? Good job! From now on, you can answer when I ask questions.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When I stood up, the Undertaker followed suit, and we sat facing each other across the desk.

I clapped twice — clap, clap! — and the study room lights turned off.

Voice-activated switch.

The Undertaker, who’d clearly never used such modern technology, flinched in surprise. Every reaction just screamed “broke.”

“Before we start, let me clarify something, senior.”

“Senior?”

“Ah, I can’t call you ‘teacher.’ That title’s already pledged to someone else. Yo Hwa might not care much about naming conventions, but for me, it’s important.”

“……”

“I’m definitely getting into Seoul National University anyway, so I’ll call you senior in advance. That’s okay, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Then question one: What exactly is your relationship with our teacher?”

The Undertaker’s expression froze.

So obvious. I could hear the gears turning as he tried to find the safest way to answer.

“Just so you know, I hate lies. So much that I’d be willing to forfeit your entire tutoring fee over it.”

“…The money doesn’t matter.”

“People who say that are always the ones most obsessed with money.”

I opened my fan and covered my mouth, striking at the perfect moment.

“That’s funny, though. I heard you have someone very precious to you.”

“…What?”

“Where was it again… Ah, Seoul. Some poor neighborhood. Hahaha, I forgot the name.”

And then, quietly—

I pulled a magazine from the shelf and flipped it open.

Inside was a photo of a stunning girl — a fashion lookbook model.

“……!”

The Undertaker’s eyes went wide.

“You—how do you know Ji-won…?”

“I’m a fan. Of hers.”

“……”

Finally, that was a face worth looking at.

“I heard she lives with her grandmother, caring for her all alone. Admirable, really. But even as a model, her income must be limited. She must be relying on someone else’s support.”

“…What do you want from me?”

“The truth. Information.”

Thud. I closed the magazine.

“Let me ask again. What is your relationship with our teacher — the one who guided us through childhood, who let us breathe in this hellish mansion?”

Silence.

“…You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“The truth is whatever the powerful decide it to be.”

The Undertaker took a slow breath.

Then, eyes firm with resolve, he met my gaze.

Hmm. That at least showed some backbone.

“The world will end.”

Blink.

“…What?”

“You can call it a prophecy, if you like. But I consider it a confirmed future. That information came from none other than the teacher you mentioned.”

“……”

“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“N-no, that’s not…”

That wasn’t it at all.

The reason I was shocked—

“The world will end—and my first-regression self already knew this?!”

Impossible!

“Then why did that old man Schopenhauer let Lady Adele die?! If he knew about the world’s destruction, about the coming of White Night over Seoul—he could’ve saved her!”

“Unless… he intended it? He let it happen? Adele’s death… on purpose? Why?”

While confusion roiled in my head, the Undertaker’s calm voice continued.

“Shall I stop here?”

“…No. Please, go on.”

“Understood.”

“The cause of the world’s destruction is complex, but the central factor… is you. Miss Cheon Hwa. And your sister, Miss Yo Hwa.”

“…What?”

“You two are the catalysts for this world’s end. Or more precisely, the ones who will summon the beings that bring it about.”

“……”

The Outer Gods.

The Yang of Taiji — Mugan.

The Yin of Taiji — Heukmak.

“We call them Outsider Gods.”

Not Other Gods — Outsider Gods.

So in this timeline… I — or rather, Go Yori and I — had already started using that term officially.

“The descent of the Outsider Gods cannot be prevented.”

“…Then couldn’t you just eliminate us? If we’re the ones who summon them, wouldn’t that stop it?”

“Even if you don’t summon them, the Outsiders will still descend by some means. That much has been confirmed.”

“……”

“In fact, it would be worse. As you can see, you and your sister are capable of rational conversation. But if others were chosen as vessels instead—the situation would become utterly uncontrollable.”

A hollow laugh slipped from my mouth.

“Confirmed?”

That meant he’d already witnessed other timelines—

where someone else had been chosen as the Priestess of Mugan and the Priestess of Heukmak.

Meaning—

“This isn’t the first regression?”

My head spun.

The very foundations of what I believed began to tremble.

“Miss Cheon Hwa? Are you all right? Perhaps we should end the talk here—”

“No.”

I pressed a hand to my forehead, looked through my fingers, and said firmly:

“Continue.”

“…I’m sorry to say this, but your teacher’s arrival at this mansion as your tutor was all part of the plan.”

“Ah. To win our affection early? So that when we later became the Priestesses of the Outsiders, you could manipulate us freely?”

“No.”

The Undertaker said quietly:

“To save you.”

“…What?”

“When the Outsiders descend, you lose your sense of self. Of course you do. From birth, you’ve been raised under constant brainwashing by your father, the cult leader. Your sole purpose was to become living sacrifices. That was the only meaning of your existence.”

“What are you saying? Yo Hwa and I—we lived our own lives…”

“How? How was that possible?”

The Undertaker’s eyes narrowed.

“You had no other choice. Your mother, the only one who loved you, died early. Your father saw you only as tools for his gods. Every servant in this mansion was a follower who agreed with his beliefs.”

“……”

“Then tell me — what outside influence allowed you to grow into real human beings instead of mindless vessels?”

“That was…”

Go Yori.

“Our teacher.”

“……”

“Wasn’t it?”

Ah.

“Normally, the scripture-reading sessions should have been led personally by your father, the cult leader. They were sacred, meant to train the next successors.”

“However…”

“Yes. However, your teacher intervened. She stole that role. Because she worked tirelessly to earn the cult leader’s complete trust.”

“……”

“She’s the one who recommended me as your successor to the leader.”

Then—

“So when she answered in that top-student interview that she ‘believed in Taoism’—that was all to leave an impression on Father…”

“Yes.”

The Undertaker nodded.

“She even arranged the journalist for that interview herself, knowing exactly which newspaper your father liked to read.”

“……”

“Miss Cheon Hwa. You must become the sacrifice. Because…”

From back then—already—

“Only you can summon the Outsider Gods and still remain yourself.

Only you can be human — a perfect vessel.”

—The Regressor already existed.