I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell-Chapter 404 + 405

There’s an epilogue.

“Yay-ii!”

“The two sisters are troublemakers, but the strongest!”

“The pride of ten million cultists on the Korean Peninsula! The quintessence of heresy! The last prodigies of Taoism!”

“YohwaYohwa☆Sisters! Descend!”

“Yeeeeee-ii!”

Clap! The sound of hands striking echoed.

“…….”

Only two people had watched the entire spectacle from start to finish: Noh Doha and Yoo Ji-won.

Both belonged to the National Road Management Corps, and that was no coincidence.

The place where the YohwaYohwa☆Sisters had just appeared was none other than the very depths of the National Road Management Corps’ headquarters, the “Tower of Babel,” in the chief administrator’s office.

“This is….”

Noh Doha muttered, her expression anything but pleased.

“Yes. So, the Cheon family had twin sisters. I’d heard of that much, so I understand. But… one of the twins was supposedly sealed in time, right? Then shouldn’t she not exist in reality? Why, then, do I see both sisters right in front of me, causing a total chaos show…?”

“Ha! Fascinating observation!”

“As expected of the National Road Commander. The wrinkles etched on your brow are evidence not only of a gruff personality but also highly evolved intelligence.”

“Can’t be helped, sister. Show your true form!”

I released my aura.

Shhrrrrr—

My orange hair faded to black, and my sailor uniform reverted to a barista outfit. The aura that had been generating infinite surfaces around me in real time dissolved.

It was like a magical girl transformation scene playing in reverse.

The result was simple.

Cheonhwa became the undertaker.

“?”

Noh Doha tilted her head.

“Tran…sform!”

I pulled up my aura. Sensationally, it felt like striking a pose after finishing a strength workout.

Then my appearance — not just my face but height and fashion — distorted again, returning to Cheonhwa.

“…….”

“Yay-ii!”

Clap! I struck hands with Yohwa again. Da capo.

“The two sisters are troublemakers, but the strongest!”

“The pride of ten million cultists on the Korean Peninsula! The quintessence of heresy! The last prodigies of Taoism!”

“YohwaYohwa☆Sisters! Descend!”

“Yeeeeee-ii!”

“……….”

Silence fell across the conference room.

“Mr Martiz, here.”

“Ah, thanks, Ji-won.”

“It’s nothing.”

Yoo Ji-won handed me a cup of black tea from her thermos, as I had just pushed my vocal limits testing with Yohwa, making the hot drink especially welcome.

I sipped peacefully, and finally words escaped Noh Doha’s lips.

“Has this bastard really lost it—?”

Again, there’s an epilogue.

Of course, I could have ended the epilogue just by teasing Noh Doha while performing as Cheonhwa, but this episode contained a problem that had to be analyzed and reviewed.

“So… the hypothesis is that, independent of Mr Martiz, a Regressor might exist?”

“Yes.”

I had just discarded the Cheon hwa disguise. I restrained myself from teasing further — it would only increase Noh Doha’s kill count unnecessarily.

Though it was difficult for me to resist, given how much I loved observing her twisted facial muscles, I succeeded. For Regressors, mental discipline was indeed precious.

“However, whether Go Yuri is truly a Regressor is unclear. At least, it’s certain she holds a position equivalent to one.”

“Hmm.”

The testimony, or rather the recorded transcript, that I paid attention to was this:

――――――――――

Go Yuri: Really… I had a feeling this would happen.

Go Yuri: There shouldn’t have been anything particularly different this time. So why has Lady Cheonhwa become this smart?

Go Yuri: Did her DNA change? No, impossible. I didn’t touch a single thing regarding the environment in which Lady Cheonhwa and Lady Yohwa were born.

Go Yuri: If I’d messed it up, the twins could easily have miscarried.

――――――――――

Miscarriage.

This phrase was so significant I printed it out like a transcript and handed it to my colleagues.

“Even if she couldn’t be 100% certain, Go Yuri spoke as if she knew a world where Cheonhwa and Yohwa had never been born.”

“…….”

I glanced sideways. Yohwa, who had just teamed up with me to test Noh Doha’s murderous intent, now wore a serious expression.

“Our mother was a bit… weak. I mean, after giving birth to us, she was always bedridden.”

“Hmm. So even a miscarriage wouldn’t be strange.”

“Yes.” Yohwa confirmed readily.

“So, if your deduction is correct, I also think it fits. In any case, my first teacher, Go Yuri, likely deliberately guided the twins to be born.”

“What could the reason be?”

“Ahaha. I don’t really know either…”

Yohwa scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

Why twins?

Without peering into Go Yuri’s heart, the answer was impossible to guess.

“Hmm.” Noh Doha leaned slightly away from us, resting her chin askew.

“What if we think in reverse…?”

I tilted my head.

“In reverse?”

“There must have been a reason for twins. If not, let’s guess what problems would occur if they weren’t twins…”

Indeed.

I brainstormed with Noh Doha.

“First, if only one child had been born, calling them separately would be meaningless. There’d only be one Cheon yo hwa, so no confusion.”

“Well, from my perspective, there would still be only one Cheon yo hwa… but in any case, only a single Cheon yo hwa would remain. What problem is there…?”

“This.”

I spoke.

“Yo hwa was designated as a sacrifice for the Mastermind, Cheon hwa for the Infinite Void. Therefore, the anomalies meant to be divided between them would concentrate on just one —”

Then it hit me.

“Ah?”

My mouth and tongue froze.

“……?”

“Teacher?”

“Martiz?”

Three pairs of eyes fixed on me, but I had no time to care about their expressions. A revelation, like lightning, surged down my spine.

I said:

“Taiji.”

“Taiji?”

“Think in reverse. From the start, there weren’t two anomalies — what if originally there had been only one?”

Blink. Blink blink.

The others still didn’t seem to understand; their eyebrows twisted.

Even as I continued speaking, waves of electric revelation coursed through me.

“Taiji. Neither the yin nor the yang alien spirit existed independently. They were originally one — a single anomaly, the one we would call ‘Taiji.’”

“…….”

“This Taiji spirit treats all things as equal data. It simulates endlessly how these elements combine, ensuring the world always evolves to its advantage — again and again… endlessly simulating to produce ‘the world most favorable to itself.’”

“Ah?”

“……!”

Finally, expressions on my colleagues’ faces began to change.

Mastermind. Infinite Void. These individually formidable outer gods — what if they had been fused?

“In other words, from a human perspective, the Taiji spirit itself possesses the power of regression. No matter how humans struggle, they cannot win. Naturally.”

“Because… it will simulate until it wins.”

Yohwa hesitated, then spoke:

“Even if humanity achieves victory, it wouldn’t truly be victory. The alien spirits would simply proceed to the next round… like, teacher, you.”

Yes.

My voice lowered.

“Even if a Regressor exists, it’s useless. It can only ever be a draw. No, even a draw cannot last forever.”

“Why, teacher?”

“Humans cannot sustain infinite mental resilience.”

Simple logic.

Humans have Regressors. Even if defeated by anomalies, they can try again. Until they win.

If the anomalies had a Taiji spirit. Even if humanity wins, the simulation can restart. Until humanity is destroyed.

But unlike humans, anomalies have no intelligence. No mind. No self. No mental limits.

No stress. No trauma.

“…This is the worst-case scenario.” Yoo Ji-won said expressionlessly.

“Humanity reached this point only because Martiz, a Regressor, exists. To think the same power is granted to the enemy… unimaginable.”

“Just being born as an only child instead of twins triggers the appearance of a Taiji spirit…?”

Yohwa muttered in shock.

A trap with no escape. A labyrinth with no way out.

Any choice leads to a bad ending.

If I, the undertaker, confronted such an impregnable fortress… what would I do?

‘Give up.’ Like old (the other regressor, I forgot his name)

‘But what if I don’t give up?’

The problem is the Taiji spirit.

‘Simply removing Cheonyohwa is not a solution. Another sacrifice would just be chosen.’

‘Moreover, controlling variables becomes even harder if anyone other than Cheonyohwa could be chosen as a sacrifice.’

I leave Cheonyohwa alone.

‘If the alien spirit is too strong…’

Split the alien spirit.

“…….”

Twist it forcibly.

Defy nature.

What was once naturally one is artificially divided into two.

Dao follows nature.

This passage can be interpreted in reverse.

Ta-da. Who would have guessed?

The terminus of infinite regression wasn’t the future, but the past—in other words, the first cycle.

Twisting the cliché! Even a regressor would be shocked here!

“…Sir. Sorry. Seriously, it’s creepy. Could you stop imitating Cheonhwa without warning? Really. I’m asking you.”

Unfortunately, because I received the full-force special move from Odokseo—an attack with 100% sincerity in apology (a dogeza)—Cheonhwa’s performance declared the season over.

“Sorry. I still have aftereffects.”

“Ah, I see. So, when you have aftereffects, you use that possessed aura control of yours to copy your disciple’s appearance and cosplay her?”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“Mm. That’s why the Regressors’ Alliance needs a manager like Noh Doha. Someone has to call a crazy person ‘crazy’ to keep the world turning correctly…”

O dok seo treated me like a complete lunatic, but honestly, I felt it was unfair.

Habitual young lady-ization. Sudden Cheonhwa imitation wasn’t just my perverted or self-deprecating joke—it was truly an aftereffect.

“O dok seo, trying to fully mimic someone else from the Void is extremely dangerous. Luckily, it’s me, so it ended with a mere joke. If it had been someone else, they’d have had dual or triple personalities lodged in a corner of their mind forever.”

“Hmm. That serious?”

“Yes. That serious. Frankly, I’m amazed you’re sane. You sometimes go full VTuber mode in [side story writing] and completely immerse yourself in others. How do you maintain your own identity doing that?”

“Uh—guess I just can?”

O dok seo tilted her head.

“You’re just lucky, huh?”

“This talented little brat.”

Probably thanks to Odokseo’s innate skill, an [AT Field]—absolute defensive barrier.

Odokseo’s sense of reality was somewhat detached from others. Not that she didn’t live seriously, but she tended to perceive her life and surroundings as [stories in a work of fiction].

She always claimed that she was merely a ‘possessed’ character dropped into the middle of a story.

A seasoned actor could fully immerse in a role while maintaining self-identity.

In that sense, Odokseo’s [AT Field], [absolute defensive barrier], and [fourth wall] might all be connected.

Lost in thought, I was suddenly interrupted by:

—Yaaaaaah!

A loud scream.

Odokseo and I were sipping coffee at the Inunaki Tunnel café when suddenly, the sound of floor noise came from above.

—Damn it! Die! I said die! Get out! Goooo!

“Ugh.”

Odokseo’s expression soured mid-espresso.

It wasn’t just the noise—she deliberately chose espresso despite hating bitterness. Even her middle school-level angst had reached enlightenment.

“That house again.”

“Hm.”

“No matter where I sit, there’s about a 30% chance I hear floor noise. I can’t even understand what they’re yelling—it’s more annoying.”

Odokseo was right.

This so-called floor-noise anomaly.

Even in the Inunaki hideout café, it was strange that floor noise came through. In a submerged tunnel under the sea, which ‘upstairs’ could possibly exist for ordinary living sounds?

In every building with a ceiling, such shouts appeared often enough.

Ordinary people routinely encountered anomalies like this.

Too trivial to exorcise, too annoying to ignore. Eventually, people just accepted them as irritating neighbors.

“Can’t you exorcise it, sir? Every time I try to open my laptop to write, the floor noise ruins my motivation.”

“Once you defeat the floor noise, the empty white manuscript fear, slump anomaly, and burnout anomaly will be waiting in succession.”

“My inability to write is all the fault of anomalies.”

“Perhaps anomalies were born because people blamed others instead of themselves, hated, or shirked responsibility. This uncle suspects that.”

“What? You’re saying I’m irresponsible and inconsiderate? Oh my god. I’m wounded. Because of the trauma from you, I’ll become a pathetic writer who can never do double features again…”

—Diiiiie! I said die! Come on!

“…No, seriously, sir. Do something about it.”

Odokseo glared at the ceiling, frustrated.

“Even on SG Net, people constantly complain about floor noise making them insane. It lowers the quality of life.”

“Hmm.”

“Always noisy with incomprehensible sounds!”

“….”

“If I could at least understand what they’re saying, I could swear at them properly!”

Even as Odokseo fumed, I quietly sipped my coffee.

Because, in truth, I could understand.

The smart reader would have already noticed: there’s a subtle difference between Odokseo’s complaint about floor noise and my narration.

—Why are you my mom! Why my mom!

That’s right.

To me, the Undertaker, the screams of the floor-noise anomaly beyond the ceiling were fully intelligible.

Not just floor noise—every anomaly’s voice.

[Only I can understand the anomalies’ voices.]

I gave a web-novel-style title to my current predicament.

When did this strange phenomenon occur? I could pinpoint it precisely.

From the 1,000th cycle.

“Huh?”

The trigger that confirmed the anomaly clearly was my encounter with Dang Seo Rin.

By now, it had repeated hundreds of times: meeting her for the first time in prior cycles.

—Where is this?

—Dad, Dad, I’m here.

As usual, when I went to greet Dang Seo Rin, I began noticing sounds I had never heard in previous cycles.

Busan Centum City’s diagonal crosswalk.

The space of the intersection, unnaturally widened.

—Can you hear me?

—There are people here. People here.

Splash, plop, plop.

Thousands of traffic lights stood like temple pillars, and every red light overflowed with bright red blood.

—Excuse me?

—Excuse me, excuse me?

The blood formed “red handprints” crawling across the crosswalk. Not one or two—but tens of thousands, wandering chaotically.

Visually, it was familiar—the scene I’d seen until the 1,000th cycle.

‘Why can I hear voices?’

Auditorily, it was entirely different.

—Our house disappeared. Officer, please help us find our home.

—Mother isn’t answering. She turned off the phone briefly, and there’s a missed call. She shouldn’t have done that. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

—We were kicked out. Does this make sense? Our house—but strangers lived there.

Each bloody handprint triggered prerecorded sounds, as if hundreds of people muttered only what they wanted to say simultaneously.

“…”

I was speechless at the overwhelming sight.

‘Why? I’ve never heard voices at this crosswalk. But suddenly, in the 1,000th cycle, without warning…’

No, it wasn’t just that. Around the 1,000th cycle, another change occurred.

“Actually… I can hear music.”

Dang Seo Rin had changed as well.

“I can hear music from you too.”

Strictly speaking, from the 999th cycle onward.

Her testimony that everything in the world—music, noise, song—was audible remained true past the 1,000th cycle.

What kind of magic was this?

Dang Seo Rin could hear every object in the world, even the sunset, as sound.

And I, for the first time, could perceive the previously inaudible anomalies’ voices.

A clear similarity existed between our two anomalies—but why it occurred without any warning was a mystery.

“Odokseo.”

“Hmm?”

“A very strange incident must have happened around the end of the 999th cycle. Could you investigate through [side story writing]?”

Thinking back, the 999th cycle was odd.

‘I was just drinking with Dang Seo Rin, and suddenly the world ended.’

No clues or evidence, but it suggested an event occurred.

“Uh… I’d love to help, but—”

“But?”

“999th cycle is too recent. My writing hasn’t reached that far. To empathize through [side story writing], it needs to align with my written progress.”

“….”

“Ah. Don’t look at me like that. I want to write! I want to be worshipped as a hyper-diligent author who updates daily, except for holidays! You don’t understand the pain of creation, the suffering of the soul! Damn, diligent authors are all geniuses! DNA, man! If only my parents had passed down better genes, I wouldn’t be—”

I’ll skip further remarks for the honor of Odokseo’s parents.

I realized: if I ever married and didn’t have children, the reason would be simple: fear that even a 0.01% chance of a child like Odokseo exists.

“Anyway, hurry your writing. At least now, the world won’t be corrupted by the Manseang anomaly.”

“The more you rush, the less motivated I get.”

“Then take it slow.”

“Don’t trust me now?! Sir?!”

“…Just live healthily.”

“I was considering personal training with Seo gyu uncle. They say he’s a PT master. Can you tell him?”

“Yes. Don’t blame your readers if you get stronger.”

“Hmm? Hahaha. Sir, you’re silly. Who blames their readers?”

“….”

“Anyway, wait and see! Once I get healthy, I’ll claim the title of diligent author, updating five times a week without missing a holiday!”

The enigmatic anomaly fell into obscurity due to some author’s destructive writing speed.

Still, it was better—at least the problem was delayed, not unsolvable.

Regressors had all the time in the world.

“Why worry? You got a new ability—it’s lucky, right?”

“….”

“The awakened has awakened again. Let’s just think of it that way for now.”

Though I wasn’t as easygoing as Odokseo, adapting to the new situation was all I could do.

Being able to [directly understand anomalies’ voices] gave immense advantages.

For example:

—Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

—Beautifully shining.

—In the eastern sky…

—In the western sky…

—Twinkle, twinkle… little star.

—Beautifully shining.

Meteor showers. Meteors.

By the seventh year of regression, meteor anomalies appeared over the Gimhae plains. Even those that once terrified all of Korea and almost destroyed the world now sang with a clear, clean voice.

“Whoa.”

Before the 1,000th cycle, meteors’ sounds were nothing but noise:

—Tw҉ink҉le҉,҉ ҉tw҉ink҉le҉,҉ ҉l҉it҉tle҉ star.

—Wiiiiiiiiiing!

—B҉ea҉ut҉iful҉ly ҉shin҉ing.

Familiar lullabies—but the meteors never clearly sang.

Now, I could hear them:

—Wiiiiiiing…

—Beautifully shining.

—In the west… in the east…

And I noticed subtle details the old me never would:

‘The voice is trembling.’

The meteor’s voice was female.

Among the brilliant stars, sirens wailed—the air raid alert.

Air raid siren in the night.A woman sings a lullaby.With a trembling voice.Humans killed by the meteor died instantly, painlessly.

“….”

Even with all these clues, I didn’t waste my regressor life leaping blindly.

Do you remember the first meteor exorcism?

I mentioned unexplained bombings over Gimhae plains at the time of the Void’s arrival.

No evidence remained of the bombing method; the cause of death vanished, and life disappeared.

‘Perhaps…’

I let go of Doha. Released my aura.

In the situation of conserving aura to suppress the Leviathan, meteors were an exception—I had no method but to strike them with strong aura.

But then:

“…Mom.”

Only after the 1,000th cycle did it feel like there was a method.

“I’m okay.”

I stared at the meteor shower above and whispered:

—Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

“I’m with mom.”

—Beautifully…

“With mom, I’m not scared.”

The sirens wailed.

“When mom covers my eyes, I get scared.”

Sirens wailed.

“So it’s okay if you don’t cover them.”

Sirens wailed.

“I want to see mom’s face till the end.”

Meteor showers fell.

Tiny fragments of starlight plummeted like hail.

Something wrapped my shoulder—shape unseen but arm-like.

—I love you, my baby.

Starlight melted.

—Mom really, really loves you.

I held the invisible arm.

“Yes. I love you too.”

Click.

The sirens stopped.

No starlight flowed from the fragments. Night returned to calm.

“….”

I bent to pick up a pebble, lifeless and lightless.

And realized:

I couldn’t use invincible aura. Yet I had to pacify the anomalies.

My path was paradoxical, seemingly impossible.

How could I walk it?