I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell-Chapter 421

Waiting was the sound of footsteps that could not be heard.

“The trail ends here.”

“The headquarters of Cheon Hwa’s cult, huh.”

“Judging from the footprints… Hmm. Three people. Yu Ji-won, Jung Ye-ji, and Oh Dok Seo.”

“The one with the crutches must be Ha Yul.”

“If it were me, I’d have made Jung Ye-ji the command center and left her in the rear… but perhaps they judged her combat ability to be insufficient.”

“At this point, the Saintess’s [Time Stop] is feeble beyond compare. But even so, they’d need every bit of that power to annihilate the false god and her heretical cult.”

“Ahaha. What reckless bravado. Ah— Is this why veterans find it fun to watch newbies? How fascinating.”

Waiting was a message being typed.

“It’s Miss Oh Dok Seo’s corpse, Mr. Undertaker.”

“……”

“Don’t make such a sad face. For the first time in hundreds of regressions, she reached a death that at least left behind a corpse. Isn’t that a remarkable achievement? To leave behind a complete body after fighting the false god.”

“A complete body? Only half remains.”

“Yes. But completeness isn’t about the body’s form — it’s whether the will of the deceased remains. Ta-da.”

“What’s that?”

“Unbelievable. It’s a will hidden within Miss Oh Dok Seo’s corpse♪”

“……”

“[To the old man.]”

[I’m sorry.]

[If you’re reading this letter, it means I’m already dead.]

[Ah, I’ve always wanted to write a will like this—]

“This is where it ends. The rest of the letter’s been torn away somewhere!”

“……”

Waiting was—

[Ah, I’ve always wanted to write a will like this. Writing it myself is way more fun than I thought. You should try it too, old man.]

A bell that never rang.

[Well, since if I die, you’ll just postpone the ending to the next regression anyway, I’m not really worried.]

[I did wonder for a moment if I should feel sorry for dying.]

[But I decided not to.]

[You don’t really think about the world left behind after you die, do you? You don’t bother stressing over what’s outside your control.]

[I thought that was your way of life.]

[So, the good things — I’ll learn them too.]

A night that wasn’t night.

Even without seeing it, the sound of a fountain pen scratching beneath a lantern came vividly to mind.

[So.]

Continuation.

[I’ll learn the good things too.]

The blanks in this world. The emptiness.

The road cut off before me. The route.

[To me, you’re a person, not a god. Sorry, but I have zero desire to worship you.]

[A life mortgaged to worship someone — isn’t that far too miserable?]

[You have your own life.]

[If the conclusion you’ve reached at the end of that life is to seal Go Yuri and even isolate yourself within your own script, then—]

[I’ll accept it.]

[But there’s no reason that has to be my ending.]

Breath breathed into a breathless letter.

[I told Ji-won unni and Ye-ji unni about your scenario.]

[No comment on how they reacted. You can just dig through their corpses and loot the wills yourself later.]

[But between us, those two are seriously annoying. Why the hell did you form a hero’s party with people like that??]

[This is why your life falls apart, idiot.]

Laughter written onto a page without smiles.

[I convinced Cheon Hwa.]

The letter grew longer.

[I convinced Shim Ah-ryun.]

The places where Oh Dok Seo’s corpse was found, and where her companions’ bodies appeared, began to change slightly each time.

[Go Yuri believed turning Hecate into a “human” named Dang Seo Rin was the only possible solution.]

[I respect that decision.]

[But it’s not mine.]

[I haven’t lived that far yet.]

At certain points, corpses were found in the same places for hundreds of regressions.

[I can’t live the same life as Go Yuri. I’m not a reincarnator. I’m not a regressor.]

[The regressor, you, may have understood and accepted the reincarnator Go Yuri’s method — even agreed with it.]

[Even to the point of throwing away your own love.]

[But not me.]

[I can’t live that far. Even if I wanted to, I can’t.]

[I’ll test out my own life.]

[Your life without Dang Seo Rin is incomplete. If you call that incompleteness an aesthetic, then I’ll tell you — my aesthetic is different.]

Gunfire without gunfire continued.

[I’ll save Dang Seo Rin — the Princess of the Night.]

Hecate — a monstrosity even reincarnators and regressors could not hope to defeat in a fair fight.

Her domain was the entire night sky; the planets and starlight that moved within it were all but her limbs.

Countless corpses lay scattered.

And then—

[I saved Dang Seo Rin.]

Footsteps gained direction.

[As a result, Dang Seo Rin became an ordinary person with no powers. I don’t know if you’ll still like her when she’s not Hecate anymore.]

[But that’s your life.]

[I saved the one I wanted to save. I don’t need your permission for that.]

Step. Step.

The footprints always disappeared halfway. But the direction they led was unmistakable.

Toward Busan Station.

Toward the tutorial dungeon.

Toward the end point of the reincarnator’s rebirth — the starting point of the regressor’s return.

“Heehee. How curious. How did she subjugate Hecate? Fascinating.”

“She began her journey with both the reincarnator’s and regressor’s strategies. Her conditions were far better than ours.”

“Even so, that’s amazing. A grand feat.”

“Indeed. She’s done well.”

Time passed.

The era flowed.

Listening to the waves of those footsteps, I suddenly looked up at the sky.

‘Have I, perhaps, grown arrogant?’

The sky was my only resting place.

At least when I looked up, I could turn my eyes away, however slightly, from the countless corpses embalmed within my [Perfect Memory].

Like a meteor shower, the bodies of fallen comrades — made of human resentment, desperate hope, and will — were the stars that embroidered my sky.

“I believe I’ve lived a righteous life.”

“Yes. I believe so too.”

“But perhaps, the world I imagine — the self I imagine — I’ve unconsciously forced those onto the children.”

“Because you believed.”

“I thought that once they were hurt like me, they’d reach the same conclusion.”

“Yes, Mr. Undertaker. Isn’t that belief beautiful?”

Waiting was continuation.

“The world I imagine and myself, the world another imagines and themselves — the two paths overlapping to form one road. In this void-stained world, I think that’s the only true beauty.”

“……”

“We are beautiful.”

Waiting was revealing oneself.

“We are the only beautiful ones in this universe.”

Waiting was accepting even your misunderstandings as understanding.

“You and I, Mr. Undertaker, understand each other perfectly. We pursue the same goal. We walk the same path. What could be purer, more miraculous than that?”

“……”

I thought — none.

“Perhaps we’re wrong.”

“Why do you say that?”

“We became reincarnator and regressor by accident. With that kind of accident, the most beautiful thing in the world can’t possibly exist between just the two of us.”

“……”

“If the noblest beauty exists, surely even those who aren’t reincarnators or regressors can grasp it.”

The letter continued.

The footprints continued.

“I ultimately understood my story in my own way, and I still believe it’s right, but…”

“But?”

“Oh Dok Seo has the right to judge my story. She’s watched it closer than anyone.”

If life is a single work,

then oneself is both author and reader.

But in truth, the first reader is inevitably one’s own child.

“My inevitable decision might have seemed an unforgivable sacrifice to her.”

“……”

“My conclusion — that I had turned into a monstrosity beyond salvation, so I chose to seal myself — might appear to Oh Dok Seo as an answer that must be corrected.”

“She lacks experience.”

“That doesn’t matter. We’re all the same.”

“……”

“I intend to let Oh Dok Seo judge my life for herself.”

I turned to Go Yuri.

Under the night sky, I looked toward the one who had lived billions of lives, who had come to understand all of humanity — the Final One.

“Have you ever thought this?”

“What do you mean?”

“When we reach the ending… will that really be the end of the world? Or will the void simply return, and a hundred or a thousand years from now, destruction will repeat as if nothing happened?”

“……”

“When that happens, neither you nor I will be here. No miracle called you, no miracle called me — people will once again fight against the end.”

“What a dreadful scenario.”

“But even then, traces of the strategies left by reincarnators and regressors will remain. And the children of Oh Dok Seo’s children will still exist.”

“……”

“I still believe I’m right. But Oh Dok Seo might think I’m wrong. Now that I think of it… giving her that extra space in life—”

A blank.

“Giving her a blank page on which to write her own story of me — perhaps that was the best choice I ever made.”

“……”

“God.”

For the first time, I spoke that word. Not as a joke invoking Jesus or Buddha, but as I looked upon the reincarnator who had become my god.

“Please, let fortune walk with that child’s future.”

“……”

“Let her someday accept that I, too, lived my best life.”

“……”

“May her life not be one twisted by grief over who is gone.”

I prayed.

“May every step she takes on her own path bring her joy.”

“Ah.”

“And may she someday pass her own answer to another child, even if it becomes their wrong one.”

“……”

“I truly pray for it.”

Go Yuri was silent.

Her expression — for the first time — twisted.

In a way it never had, in all her billions of lives. A face my memory had never once recorded.

“I…”

[I’ve figured out how to make the Udumbara bloom.]

“I was too late to become human.”

[The conditions are crazy strict. But not impossible. Ah-ryun unni got a bit weird, but, well… she’s always been weird.]

[So.]

“I came all this way just to remain human beside you. I threw away all my powers. Are you saying that sacrifice was wrong?”

[I’ll defeat the Monster Wave.]

“It’s not wrong.”

“…You think Oh Dok Seo — that newborn little possessor — can find a better answer than me?”

“I told you. Your life isn’t an answer sheet. It’s filled with countless wrong ones written to find the right one. Seeing the same right and wrong, Oh Dok Seo can reach a different conclusion.”

“Mr. Undertaker. You reached the same conclusion as me.”

“I already said it, Go Yuri. Not every human can be like me.”

“That’s why I—”

“That’s why I’ll choose Oh Dok Seo.”

[Old man. But like, why is there so little info on the Monster Wave??]

[They’re all a kind of dead soul, right? And the Monster Wave is just a gathering of them. I get that you can defeat it by performing rites and funerals for each one.]

[But damn, that’s such a ridiculous method. Only someone like you — someone who can “recall” the dead as vividly as the living — could even do it.]

[I think it’s too special a method.]

“Even if someone like me were worshipped as a god, all that would remain in these children’s lives would be regret and sorrow.”

“……”

“You’re the same.”

[Come to think of it, the ghosts trapped in the Monster Wave — they’re all missing persons, right? Souls who even lost their mourners.]

[But couldn’t a ‘nation’ hold a public funeral for deaths like that? Technically?]

“I don’t want Oh Dok Seo to live a life forever burdened by regret for me. I don’t want her or anyone who feels sorry toward me to gather and call only themselves truly human.”

“……”

“What do you wish for your children, Go Yuri? My god.”

[I’m planning to make Ji-won unni the chief mourner.]

“…Of course.”

[She’s the Priestess of Leviathan, and Leviathan is basically the concept of a ‘nation’ turned into a monstrosity, right?]

“Of course — I want them to be happy.”

[Then that fits. As Leviathan’s priestess, she’d have that status even more in the world of monsters.]

[If Ji-won leads the funeral, then it becomes a ‘state funeral.’ That’s what I’m counting on.]

“I’ve lived for that.”

[Isn’t it fascinating? Someone who can’t be anyone’s bereaved, who can’t mourn any one death, is paradoxically the only one who can hold funerals for everyone. That’s Yu Ji-won.]

[It’ll be hard, but I’ll try.]

“I’ve lived my whole life for that.”

“Then open yourself to others as well.”

“……”

“It’s the only way for us to be happy as humans.”

I’d thought it for a long time.

[Hmph. I still don’t get why coffee shows up in your stories so often.]

What is the world? What is life?

[I keep wanting to look forward to it, but then I think — what if it’s disappointing? So I’m trying to lower my expectations.]

[But a cup made by a barista who’s lived through thousands of regressions — surely I can expect something transcendent. If a taste exists somewhere that surpasses even my gentle heart and patience, that must be you, old man…]

[Expectation absent. Expectation present. Ambivalence absent and present. Existence absent. Absence existent.]

[God, that rhymes so hard.]

At some point, I began to believe that I, who had lived more lives and endured more pain than anyone, had the right to define the world and life.

But I realized — after entrusting my autobiography to the ghostwriter named Oh Dok Seo — that to someone else, I am also a world and a life.

That’s how worlds and lives continue.

‘Follow me, Dok Seo.’

No.

‘Go on ahead, Dok Seo.’

Walk your path.

Though born later, your steps are faster than anyone’s.

Step upon my failures, my guides, my life.

My life was once for others — now it’s also for you.

So I’ll wait.

“……”

I only waited.

“……”

The waiting room of the Busan Station tutorial dungeon.

The people summoned here with me were nowhere to be seen. Fairy No. 264 didn’t appear either.

‘This isn’t the Void.’

I realized it as soon as I regressed.

This was no longer a “tutorial dungeon” defined by the Infinite Void — just an ordinary concrete building where people had vanished.

‘Someone isolated everyone who should’ve been summoned here, and even put the fairy to sleep somehow.’

The waiting room was wide and silent.

The lighting made the silence even heavier. Every window, doorway, and crack where light could enter was covered with thick curtains.

Darkness.

In that colorless graveyard—

Creaaak.

Slowly, a door opened.

As the curtain drew back, faint light spilled through. It spread like a carpet.

“Who did you think would save you, old man?”

Step.

With those footsteps—

“Saintess?”

The voice flowed out pale.

“Dang Seo Rin? Cheon Hwa? Yo Hwa? Shim Ah-ryun? Ha Yul? Noh Doha? Yu Ji-won?”

Step.

“Go Yuri?”

Step.

“No.”

I turned toward the footsteps and voice.

There was the sound of Oh Dok Seo’s breathing.

Unlike the girl I’d known, her hair was long.

Its color had changed too — black hair falling in waves.

“Surprisingly, you didn’t see this coming.”

Chew, pop.

Oh Dok Seo blew a cheap bubble of gum. She’d always failed at making one, yet this time, a perfect bubble formed and popped neatly.

She wiped away the burst bubble with a smooth motion.

“I,”

She drew scissors from her pocket — a pair of barber’s shears that caught the light spilling through the crack of the door, gleaming silver.

Snip.

Her hair fell in sheets.

As it scattered, the strands began to turn red from the tips.

Soon, Oh Dok Seo was long-haired again — the red-haired girl I knew.

Grinning—

She pulled a cap from her bag, covered her head, and spun it backward.

“――I’m your salvation, old man.”

She was my epilogue.

The writer who would turn my right answer into her wrong one.

The one who would weave all wrong answers into a single right one.

The child I’d always waited for.

The one I loved.

—The Possessor. End.