I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell-Chpater 420

Chpater 420

All plans were perfect.

That is to say, at least until I, the Undertaker, got beaten up — everything seemed truly perfect.

‘Go Yuri. The one who fell into the worst monstrosity while trying to save humanity.’

‘Now, within my perfect memory, she is remembered as a [human] who has lived across billions of lives.’

Of course, my memory was on a completely different level from that of others.

“Oh my.”

“Oh dear, oh dear.”

This difference in dimension was clear just by looking at the countless Go Yuris right before my eyes — buzzing, bustling, murmuring, whispering, chattering, testing the limits of onomatopoeia in real time.

“Now, we’ve truly become one.”

Over there, another Go Yuri.

“However, for all of us numbering in the billions to be stationed inside the Busan Station tutorial dungeon — wouldn’t that be a bit too much of a burden for Mr. Undertaker?”

Here too, another Go Yuri.

“It’s the grand assembly of humankind.”

“Yes. It would be proper for only one person to appear at a time, while the rest remain in their usual dream-within-dream subconscious world.”

“Then we must decide who will stay in Mr. Undertaker’s reality.”

“By drawing lots? Or should it be a tournament?”

“Fairness? Or dopamine?”

“What a truly difficult question……”

It was literally a grand chaos party of Go Yuris.

“Be quiet. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Yes.” “Yes.” “Yes.” “Yes.”

The Go Yuris obediently replied.

While, at the edge of my vision, the Go Yuris were suddenly holding a dice-rolling tournament (final participants: several billion), I calmly looked around.

The main hall of the Busan Station tutorial dungeon.

‘As I thought. Oh Dok Seo’s presence… isn’t here.’

This was now the 1,085th round.

In the previous round, I had experienced the entirety of Go Yuri’s life, every moment of it. I had, quite literally, walked the exact same life as hers.

At this point, the distinction between Go Yuri and me no longer held any meaning. I was Go Yuri, and Go Yuri was me.

From this state, the real, physical Go Yuri who had existed in reality willingly became infected by the Udumbara.

The Udumbara — the world tree that erases the screams of all Awakeners.

The ability of reincarnation that Go Yuri had once possessed was erased at that moment, and finally, the reincarnator ended her long journey, arriving at the terminal stop called “me.”

Go Yuri — whose name in her first life had been “Su-yeon” — thus succeeded in abandoning her self that had been contaminated by the poison of emptiness.

‘Now, only I need to be sealed.’

My method of sealing was far simpler.

‘Once Oh Dok Seo finishes writing the complete chronicle of my life, I too shall become infected by the Udumbara, just like Go Yuri — and everything will end.’

And it wasn’t only me.

‘Ji Won, Cheon Hwa, Dang Seo Rin too. No — I shall make the Udumbara bloom across this entire world, infecting all Awakeners…….’

‘Even the Shrine Maidens who have become one with the gods of alienation shall be infected with Udumbara.’

Then, both the alien gods and the monstrosities born from them — even the Awakeners tainted with the poisonous emptiness called “awakening”—

‘I can reset it all in one stroke.’

The problem was Shim Ah-ryeon.

The ability possessed by Shim Ah-ryeon, in its very essence, was fundamentally aligned with the nature of Udumbara.

If the Udumbara were to truly grow vast enough to become a “world tree,” then Shim Ah-ryeon too would run the risk of falling, to the level of an alien god.

‘So, I’ll infect her with Udumbara little by little, each round. That way, I can minimize the risk.’

A grand downfall.

During the unfolding of this epic collapse, I, the Undertaker, had to remain until the very end — to control any unforeseen variables.

And beside me, Oh Dok Seo was supposed to diligently compose the sealing tool known as the “novel,” to seal me away――

“…Why isn’t she in the tutorial dungeon?”

Once again, to put it clearly.

The most crucial person in my plan — Oh Dok Seo — was nowhere to be found.

‘There must have been some kind of error.’

I forced my mind into positive circuits.

‘In the next round, Oh Dok Seo will appear with a ta-da—! Of course! Naturally!’

Next. The 1,086th round.

Oh Dok Seo still didn’t appear.

“……”

1,087th round. 1,088th round. The next as well.

Even the mental endurance of a regressor — whose greatest strength lay in relentless optimism — naturally began entering the five stages of grief.

“No way. Oh Dok Seo couldn’t have died. Why would she die in the first place? All she had to do was avoid danger, activate her AT field on time, and endure patiently!”

Denial.

“Dok Seo! Wasn’t it enough to just save Madam Adele and contact Old Man Sho? Why on earth are you running around causing trouble before the regression starting point?!”

Anger.

“…Wait, is it the trick of All-Play? No, impossible. I made sure to crush that bastard completely, even made him declare surrender! But still. What if Oh Dok Seo fell for the whispering of All-Play and decided to become the god of the New World?!”

Fear.

“Right. Our Dok Seo was a supporter of Noh Doha, wasn’t she? This old man neglected the romance part between the Commander Noh Doha and her too much. Dok Seo, can you hear me? Are you reading my monologue? Ah, you can hear me, can’t you?! Ten rounds. Fine. I’ll devote a whole ten rounds to the Commander Noh Doha route. Hah! That’s quite generous, isn’t it? So, my dear Dok Seo, don’t get distracted — just save Madam Adele and come back, alright? Sorry for always rushing you to write, my dear author. From now on, how about just one chapter every ten years?”

Bargaining.

“……”

Acceptance.

“Right.”

I already knew.

“You couldn’t accept it, could you.”

Perhaps Oh Dok Seo might react like this.

After all, having watched over that child for thousands and tens of thousands of years, I could foresee this scenario quite well.

However, I hadn’t rated this possibility very highly.

The reason was simple.

“From your point of view, I’m merely someone you haven’t even met yet. A character in your novel. A stranger of the unknown.”

Oh Dok Seo was different from me.

The possessed author — her characteristics were distinctly different from both regressors and reincarnators.

“You and I have no connection in reality whatsoever.”

Regressors repeated their own lives endlessly.

Therefore, even if others couldn’t remember them, regressors remembered the bonds and vows they had once shared.

Reincarnators repeated the lives of others endlessly.

Thus, reincarnators had no boundary between self and others. You were once me, and I will one day be you.

But those who possessed were different.

For the possessed, there was only one life. The self was the self, and others were others.

“At this point in time, there’s no relationship between the real me and you. In terms of affection score, it’s zero. Even if I exaggerate, it wouldn’t surpass fifty.”

You read an intriguing novel.

You picked up a mysterious book of prophecy.

Even so, to risk one’s life for some strange “old man” who appears only within the lines of a text, and to move toward an uncertain “happy ending” that might not even exist—

“Would that really be possible?”

The probability was abnormally low.

If there was a gap in my judgment,

“…It’s that you, Dok Seo, are far more abnormal than any probability can account for.”

At some point, Oh Dok Seo and I had built a bond strong enough that either of us could throw our lives away for the other without hesitation.

Oh Dok Seo could not remember that. She merely witnessed it, as sentences tangled with her own handwriting.

‘And with only that.’

Just with that, Oh Dok Seo decided to bet her entire life on me.

“……”

“How fascinatingly wrong a move.”

From the tournament battle that recorded the largest number of participants in human history, a single Go Yuri — the final victor — lifted the trophy beside me and smiled gently.

“Mr. Undertaker. You don’t trust the memory of ordinary people. Not out of contempt, but simply because they really can’t remember you.”

“……”

“You don’t expect from others what’s impossible for them. You don’t make arbitrary expectations, and so you don’t get arbitrarily hurt.”

Go Yuri hummed softly.

“That attitude is the very foundation that allowed you to get along with people. Thus, naturally, you didn’t expect Oh Dok Seo to accomplish the impossible.”

Go Yuri and I were alike.

We both knew well the pain of being unrecognized by others — by those who could not recall the ‘past life’ or the ‘previous round’ of ourselves.

“But it seems Oh Dok Seo was a strange anomaly — one our attitudes failed to account for.”

“…Children. They never grow or act as we imagine.”

“Isn’t that true?”

Go Yuri giggled.

“I lived on hard mode — for an inconceivably long span of time that makes comprehension meaningless. You, Mr. Undertaker, lived on normal mode — for tens of thousands of years.”

“Yes.”

“I wonder how long Miss Oh Dok Seo will live? Until she finally reaches that endless June 17th — the station of an eternal summer.”

The rounds passed.

And with each one, at the top of the death list I couldn’t change, Oh Dok Seo’s name was always written.

‘Dok Seo.’

Once, I wished that child would not have to bear all the pain.

‘You don’t have to save me. This old man is truly content with just appearing in the lines you’ll read someday, in the prologue of your story.’

Would my voice reach her?

And even if it did, would she understand?

“……”

I felt an overwhelming ambivalence.

The words I had left behind — I wished that, if not now, then someday, that child would come to understand them.

I believed she would.

But for her to understand my words — that would mean she would have to suffer the same pain I did.

I only hoped that pain wouldn’t be too great.

‘Do I wish for her to understand, or not to understand? Hah. How troublesome.’

In the end, my wish had only one destination.

‘I just hope she grows stronger.’

That she walks forward strong.

And strength — it could only be gained by one’s own will.

The “Book of Prophecy” or “Strategy Guide” that Oh Dok Seo would one day read contained my life story — my experiences, my failures, my errors, and my record of success.

Nothing more.

All I could give that child named Oh Dok Seo was my life itself.

‘I can’t become strong in your place.’

I tried.

While Oh Dok Seo was endlessly repeating death, arriving again and again at that summer of June, I couldn’t just watch and assume she’d figure it out on her own.

‘Could I somehow newly awaken a time-machine-like ability?’

I tried.

‘The black dimension forged by Commander Noh Doha has the property of transcending spacetime — could I somehow use that to cut through time itself… perform the ultimate technique?’

I tried.

“……”

For hundreds, thousands of years, as I struggled to find new ways to help the child and bear new wounds in her stead, Go Yuri silently watched beside me with a faint smile.

And eventually, I realized.

“Damn. This won’t work, will it?”

I set down my staff-blade.

It was the 1,183rd round.

Exactly a hundred rounds had passed since I had lived through Go Yuri’s lifetime.

Even now, regressors hadn’t gained any power to rewind time even further. Some things simply can, some things simply can’t. No matter how I fought against it — I had no ‘talent’ for it.

“I told you so, Mr. Undertaker.”

Go Yuri whispered gently.

“You fatally lack the talent for being wounded. No matter how hurt you get, you never give up.”

“…I thought that was my strength.”

“All strengths contain their weaknesses.”

She chuckled.

“At first, you only lost your fellow regressor, Emit Schopenhauer. And now, you’ve come to lose even the possessed author Oh Dok Seo — each time, before the regression begins.”

“……”

“But from Oh Dok Seo’s perspective, it’s the opposite. In a world without you, she’s trying to clear it. Hmm. Come to think of it, it’s not exactly easy mode, is it?”

“It might be similar to the difficulty I faced,” Go Yuri sighed lightly.

“Ah. I might have just witnessed a truly new possibility.”

“What is it?”

“Like this — you keep searching for someone to seal you away, Mr. Undertaker. Oh Dok Seo failed, so next. Then next. Then next again. But each time, others will struggle desperately to save you― and as a result, none of them ever make it to June 17th, dying along the way.”

“……”

“That’s why, even if you regress, there are fewer and fewer people left around you. First Oh Dok Seo. Then someone else. Then another. And eventually… you regress, but no one remains! Imagine it — a world where only one regressor survives. The only survivor — the one everyone fought to save!”

“……”

“But Noh Doha would still remain.”

Go Yuri smiled brightly.

“Because she would never die to save you. She would keep living, solely to kill the you left alone in this world.”

“Indeed.”

I gave a bitter smile.

“That would truly be a perfect bad ending.”

“The destruction of all for one person. Romantic. Hmm, I don’t think it’s that bad. If that’s humanity’s ending, I can accept it.”

Go Yuri gazed at the distant sunset.

“Now you understand my gamble, don’t you, Mr. Undertaker? Back then, in the same situation you’re in now, I too bet on your success.”

“Is that so.”

“Yes. Because you were competent, because you didn’t give up — I didn’t fail. And now, here I am, able to talk to you like this.”

Go Yuri’s eyes turned to me.

“What about Oh Dok Seo?”

“……”

“Will she be as capable as you? Will she refuse to give up like you?”

The world perished. Again.

“Tell me — do you have any regrets about entrusting the end of this grand life to Oh Dok Seo?”

“Hm.”

Go Yuri was right.

At last, I finally understood what she had felt when she entrusted her ending to me.

“I have no regrets.”

“Why?”

“No one has read my life as deeply as she has. Everything I could give, and everything I couldn’t — it all depends on her. Even if Dok Seo fails, that would… well, to me, it would be something to be sorry about, not something to resent or regret.”

“Absolutely?”

“Absolutely.”

I had lived earnestly.

I had tried.

I had never given up.

“I only wait.”

Waiting.

To wait for someone — for someone like me, who has lived longer than anyone else, it was a most unfamiliar thing.

Regressors were always the ones others waited for — not the ones who waited. Because they knew all events that were to come.

They knew where to go, who to find.

Where to arrive, who would be saved.

If they didn’t go, who would die.

Regressors were a kind of omniscient being.

They constantly hurried themselves, to reach those waiting for them as soon as possible.

Unless, of course, they were an unqualified regressor like Old Man Sho, who simply shouted at the world, “If you don’t do it, I’ll quit — good luck.”

‘But… is that so.’

Now I understood.

“Waiting isn’t so bad after all.”

“Haha. Isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

How must the regressor Emit Schopenhauer have felt, ending his life over a thousand times?

Was it stubbornness? Pride? Guilt for finding peace before his comrades? Love for his wife? Despair?

There must have been many reasons, but among them — there was surely one: faith in me, support for me, waiting for me.

“Even if I had given up, Old Man Sho would have understood. Well, though we never even got the chance to talk.”

“Yes.”

“But if, somehow, by some miracle, he could have received the news of my giving up — I think he would have… felt sorry for me.”

“Yes.”

“All the same in the end.”

“Because that’s what people are.”

I waited.

At the end of a world collapsing, in a world without you, I waited for you.

I waited.

And waited.

“……”

“Huh.”

One day.

“Yu Ji-won is dead.”

“I see.”

“What a strange thing. No matter what, she had sworn never to die before reuniting with Mr. Matiz — such a vow should have been deeply etched in her heart.”

“……”

Something had changed.

“Yes, Yo Hwa’s death has also been confirmed. Hm. And there was no occurrence of emptiness at Baekhwa Girls’ High.”

“What’s going on?”

“It means the void that was supposed to occur at Baekhwa Girls’ High had instead been triggered earlier, somewhere else. But it didn’t go as planned, so the entire party died.”

“……”

“But Mr. Undertaker, didn’t you notice something else strange?”

“What?”

“Jung Ye-ji’s telepathy.”

“……”

“The messages of the Constellations. You can’t hear them anymore, can you?”

The

sensation I had long since become accustomed to —

The babbling chatter of countless Constellations, seeping into the back of my mind through the subconscious, then bleeding out of my mouth unbidden —

All of that had vanished.

“……”

“Ah. Miss Oh Dok Seo has begun to kill the Constellations.”

Go Yuri smiled faintly.

“Mr. Undertaker. She’s on her way.”