I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell-Chapter 429

“To be exact—”

An old memory.

From the “first round,” a time I had once lost within myself.

A memory I barely managed to recover by reliving the reincarnate’s life over and over again.

“You, Doctor, cannot really be called a regressor.”

Go Yuri and I.

The two of us were the only traitors in the world.

Those who plotted rebellion against a destiny already condemned to destruction by the Aberrations.

“The only true, one hundred percent pure regressor is Mr. Schopenhauer.”

The place where we always conversed was a cramped chamber secluded from time—

a station where the train had long stopped running.

Our words were always careful,

like those of spies who had illegally infiltrated a ruling nation.

“Even so, Doctor, you stand on equal ground with a regressor in effect. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“Perfect memory.”

“Yes, exactly. You simply do not lose your memories, even as this world repeats endlessly.”

Go Yuri smiled.

“But to deceive the enemy, one must first deceive their allies. From now on, you will pretend to be a regressor—believe yourself to be one—and in doing so, you will deceive both ally and enemy alike.”

“……”

“In the end, no one will ever reach your true identity.

Even if a few of the Forgotten Gods realize that the world is repeating—

as long as they cannot uncover your true name—”

True name (本名), and true destiny (本命).

My true name: Go Yo-il.

My true fate: the one who remembers.

“Doctor, you cannot be conquered by the Aberrations. Never.

Not unless you give up on yourself first.”

“……”

“So, Doctor—”

Go Yuri took my hand.

“In this world, we are the only ones who have permitted each other to be conquered.”

“……Go Yuri.”

“Yes, Go Yo-il.”

Jingle—

The silver bell on her wrist cast a faint shadow as it trembled.

“I entrusted you with my name.

And you, too, entrusted yours to me.”

“And you know my identity.

Just as I will one day live out your life completely.”

“We are one.”

That was our promise.

“Let’s save this world, together.”

The silver bell swayed.

In the destiny where we plotted rebellion,

the world was one where either both you and I did not exist—

or both you and I had to exist together.

Our joint burial was denied.

The possessor who succeeded our will declared that it was still too early to hold our funeral.

I was merely an ordinary man born with the fate to remember and record the past—

but perhaps now, I wish to believe in the future.

True name: Go Yo-il.

Alias: Undertaker.

Other names—

“The Infinite Regressor,”

“The False Reincarnate,”

“The Undertaker,”

“The One Who Remembers,”

“The Keeper of Time,”

“The Conqueror.”

Schopenhauer’s workout partner.

Guildmaster of Shim Ah-ryeon.

Dang Seo Rin’s companion on gourmet tours.

Cheon Hwa’s teacher.

Seo-gyu’s older brother.

Yoo Ji-won’s chauffeur.

Lee Ha-yul’s godfather.

Hong Bi-cheong’s footrest.

Benefactor of the Magical Girl Alliance. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Author of Oh Dok Seo.

Noh Doha’s nemesis.

Known by many other names.

But above all—

someone’s family.

A false regressor.

Final Regression—Commence.

Hình dạng

7.

I opened my eyes.

June 17th, 1:59 PM.

Time limit:

60 seconds remaining.

The final battle that would determine whether the world would be completely saved or not.

Not even a single second could be wasted.

Thus, it took me less than an instant to grasp the situation at this starting point—

the waiting hall of Busan Station.

“Sir!”

The concourse was pitch dark.

The artificial lights had gone out—power failure.

This place was no longer the regressor’s exclusive territory,

but a crossroads now shared with possessors—

a symbol of that very truth.

“Right away.”

No need for long words.

Our operation schedule had already been planned down to the second.

The people occupying Busan Station’s waiting hall were not 399 random summonings.

Every one of them was a carefully chosen member of the assault team.

And—

“……”

“……”

“……”

All the assault members lay in the middle of the hall, eyes closed—

asleep.

Not just the core members of the Regression Alliance—

Dang Seo Rin, Yoo Ji-won, Cheon Hwa, Shim Ah-ryeon, Lee Ha-yul, Seo-gyu, Noh Doha—

but also several outsiders: the Sword Queen, the Great Shaman, Manyeommyeo, Nenets—

each laid out in rows like bodies in a communal grave.

“Hueeek—”

Around the sprawled figures, hundreds of “Tutorial Fairies” joined hands and danced in a ring.

“Is that the Secretary-General His Excellency that Author Oh Dok Seo mentioned, kya~?”

“Yeah! Less talking, more putting them to sleep!”

“Heheek. There is no paradise in flight. We barely escaped the oppressor’s rule, and now—only another violence awaits us…!”

Time limit:

50 seconds.

“Lulla~ lulla~ my baby~”

“Mother’s under the island’s shade~”

“Twinkle twinkle little sta~r—”

The fairies’ dance carried a song within it.

A spell—

a primitive human void, a lure into the realm of dreams governed by succubi.

A sudden drowsiness tugged at my eyelids.

“Catch, Mister!”

Oh Dok Seo threw something.

I snatched it out of the air.

A silver bell.

“Noh Doha will join soon! I’ll stay here until that old man arrives, then we’ll go together! Don’t worry! You go fir—”

Her voice cut off.

Hundreds of succubi’s combined spell swallowed my consciousness,

pulling me into a void disguised as a dream.

But I wasn’t worried.

I know, Dok Seo.

Just as she trusted me,

I trusted her.

Time limit:

40 seconds.

That always-late old man.

Dive.

To the next stage.

I leave it to you.

The scenery changed abruptly.

“You’ve arrived, Mr. Matiz.”

It was a shabby alley.

Like the “Zero Station” before, people here too lay slumped, asleep along the alleyway—

the “First Station.”

Yoo Ji-won sat not outside but inside a car,

in the passenger seat, gazing at me as I opened my eyes behind the wheel.

“I was waiting for you.”

“You could’ve gone ahead.”

“How could I abandon the duty of waiting for Mr. Matiz?”

She smiled faintly.

“Everyone else has already gone ahead and is standing by.”

“I see.”

“Yes. Time flow here hasn’t slowed enough yet, so I’m the only one who needs no further words to handle this place.”

She extended her hand.

“Your Excellency.”

“……”

“I wish you a good journey.”

I took her hand.

Cold.

Since that night when the rain seemed to wash away the entire world,

Yoo Ji-won’s warmth had always remained cool—

because she had long prepared herself to accept another’s warmth.

“How beautifully it shines—”

Beyond the car window, over the villas and duplex roofs shading the alley,

the fairies sang their lullaby in chorus.

“Please go first.”

Listening not to rain, but to their song, I closed my eyes.

Our clasped hands formed a small, rounded shape—

The smallest circle permitted upon this earth.

“Guiding the latecomers is my role too, Mr. Matiz. This time, will you be the one to wait for me instead?”

Time limit:

30 seconds.

Of course, Ji-won.

Dive.

To the next stage.

“……”

Second Station.

“……Teacher.”

It was a classroom soaked in the evening glow of sunset.

Already, we were nearing a dream within a dream.

Time had long been distorted.

The second hand probably moved far slower than in reality.

Space was no less warped.

The classroom, being within a dream, felt oddly twisted—its true size indeterminable.

Hundreds of people slept slumped over their desks.

Only one girl with orange hair looked at me with a face that seemed ready to cry.

“I’m sorry… for forgetting.”

“It’s not your fault, Yo Hwa.”

“But my sister, and you, Teacher—”

“It’s just that we acted on our own, and disappeared from your memory.

People who think they’re clever tend to make a lot of mistakes, you see.”

Cheon Yo Hwa was regaining her memories.

Perhaps it was the result of Oh Dok Seo’s conquest of the cult.

Or perhaps it was because we were nearing the great void of the dream within a dream,

and the remnants piled there were “backflowing” into her.

Probably both.

Before June 17th arrived, Oh Dok Seo had persuaded Yo Hwa.

Together, they had even captured the succubi,

creating a plan lasting only sixty seconds—

a reckless gamble of a plan.

Through the endless drills for that plan,

the Yo Hwa before me must have grown familiar with the dream within a dream.

“I… don’t care if I fail.”

“……”

“Rather, I wish the next round wouldn’t come.

I finally got my memories back like this—

if the wheel turns again,

then the me who remembers you will disappear.”

I don’t want that.

Yo Hwa covered her face with her hands.

“Is that so?”

I patted her shoulder.

“I wanted to see you graduate and go to college, Yo Hwa.”

“……”

“It might not be that fun, since you’ve already experienced so much.

But finding something boring and calling it boring—

that, too, is a precious kind of experience.”

I spoke playfully.

“And you can’t wear that sailor uniform forever, right?

Don’t you want to try some other fashion?”

“Ugh…”

“This will be my final regression.”

The classroom bathed in sunset—

Aside from the seats for the latecomers,

one chair still remained empty.

“I’m sorry for giving you so many wounds you couldn’t remember.”

“……”

“I was clumsy. Inexperienced.

I wanted to do well, but failed in many ways.

Will you forgive me?”

Outside the window, the birch forest swayed.

A thousand white shadows melted into crimson.

“Yes…”

The song of that forest was the lullaby of the succubi.

“Sister… please, take care of yourself.”

Time limit:

25 seconds.

“Of course.”

Dive.

To the next stage.

“……”

Third Station.

It wasn’t the red of sunset—

but a more primal red.

A mansion drenched in blood.

Lee Ha-yul.

A small girl in a wheelchair faced away from me, staring at the mansion.

[Why are you so late?]

A murder that did not happen in this round.

But infected by the void-poison seeping backward from the dream within a dream,

Lee Ha-yul seemed unfazed by the scene.

“Time moves slower here.”

[That’s your excuse?]

“Sorry.”

The mansion, originally located in Fukuoka in reality,

was, like the previous stations, heavily distorted.

Halls, doors, and staircases sprawled chaotically, like a backroom labyrinth.

Those who took part in the operation hung from the ceiling by puppet strings—

lined up like cuts of meat in a butcher’s shop.

The blood flowing beneath them all came from one man—

Lee Ha-yul’s father, Jung Sang-guk.

[I was thinking about murder.]

As I approached, Ha-yul muttered,

her gaze still fixed on the slaughterhouse before her.

[If the world repeats, then even a single murder is no different from thousands, tens of thousands—countless murders.]

[I hated Jung Sang-guk.]

[But I was thinking—did I hate him enough to kill him for eternity?

Is there a sin that deserves that much hate?]

She looked up at me, sideways.

[And love, too.]

“……”

[You’ve cherished me for hundreds, thousands of times.

How can a person do that?]

“Didn’t you love me the same way?”

[I only did because I couldn’t remember. There’s nothing hard about it.]

“To love someone endlessly,

even when you no longer remember or understand them—

isn’t that beautiful?”

I knelt before her wheelchair.

Meeting her gaze from just slightly below.

“I’ll always support you, Ha-yul.”

[…Brother.]

“Even when you’re hurt, you’re the kind of child who asks herself,

‘Must this wound hurt forever?’—and answers, ‘No.’”

“…”

“When you’re loved, you marvel at how that love reaches eternity,

and rejoice in that miracle.

Ha-yul, you have the greatest courage and the most beautiful love.”

Lee Ha-yul—

“……”

was crying.

Her body rendered both laughter and tears soundless.

Because the world could not hear her,

she had never cried for show,

nor smiled to boast.

She built towers of laughter and tears solely for herself—

yet still allowed others’ footsteps to climb those towers.

The most beautiful towers in the world were always built in the heart.

“When this is over, become independent.”

“……”

“Then let’s go on a trip together.”

[Far away?]

“Very far.”

Lee Ha-yul leaned forward, trembling slightly,

resting against the armrest of her wheelchair.

[Go ahead first, and wait for me.]

Thump.

The light weight of a lifetime crossed between us—

and wrapped around my head.

From the tower of her heart,

a soundless song—

the melody of a summer longed for—

began to play.

[I love you, Dad.]

Time limit:

22 seconds.

“I love you too.”

Dive.

And—

to the next stage.