Infinite Regressor, Chapter 427 - I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

1. Old Baekje Hospital. Café. Emit Schopenhauer was delighted. It was partly because of the exceptionally delicious coffee he was savoring, but more than anything, wasn’t the world’s most adorable wife approaching him in real time? “Well, Embalmer. I’m too curious not to ask. Just how many times have you gone through these regressions?” Naturally, his voice was infused with a lively rhythm. To be frank, this situation felt like a ‘dream’ to Schopenhauer. Having achieved the most significant item on his life bucket list, how could he not be thrilled? “Well. I actively went through about 2,000 cycles. Altogether, it's easily over 3,000 cycles.” “Oh.” Schopenhauer's voice lingered leisurely in the cadence of a joyful march. “I thought I had surpassed at least a thousand by the time I died. It seems the density of time for you and me must have been different.” “Indeed.” “How long did you live each cycle?” “Hmm.” “No need for exact figures. Roughly guessing, I suppose you lived about 5 years per cycle――.” “The difference in calculation isn’t much. It’s around 20 years.” Pause. “20 years?” “Yes.” “…….” Schopenhauer's gaze slowly shifted. At the table opposite, someone was sipping long-cooled café au lait. From the first-person perspective, he was the Undertaker. In the third-person omniscient perspective, he was called Go Yo-il. “Hmm…….” Schopenhauer placed his coffee cup down. Something trickled down his nape. This secretion, known as a cold sweat, is typically designed to be emitted by the Homo sapiens body when it senses impending doom. “Quite an amusing joke you have there. If those figures were true, wouldn't the calculation of 3,000 cycles times 20 years be valid? Oh ho ho. Roughly 60,000 years old, huh?” “Oh, not quite. Sometimes going on vacation, sometimes because the world would end early in about 1,000 cycles recently. 50,000 years.” “Hmm.” The cold sweat didn't stop. “By the way, my elder.” “Wh-what?” “There should be propriety (禮) in relationships between people. It’s a fact mentioned by Confucius, whom you admired so much.” “Is that so?” “The foundation of courtesy is expressing respect for those who have advanced ahead of you. In East Asia, that respect is often simply expressed through honorifics.” “……And?” “How old are you, precisely, sir?” “…….” Thud. Go Yo-il put down the porcelain cup and smiled broadly. “Emit Schopenhauer.” “What?” “Control yourself. Do not raise your voice.” “…….” “Even as I age, I’ve lived at least fifty thousand years more than you.” “……….” “Now then, who’s the rookie?” Schopenhauer’s vision went blurry. This was a nightmare. 2. “Hey, swing it straight.” “Argh!” “I don’t have high expectations of you. Only that you swing the sword properly. Aren’t you supposedly a swordsman? Are my expectations too high?” “Ow! No, they aren’t!” “The sword path is crooked. Again. Do it 5,000 more times until it's right.” “This d--- damn――.” “Damn what? My esteemed self has grown quite deaf, having aged so much due to a colleague abandoning this world. Speak up so my old ears can hear.” “No! Aaaargh!” People whispered as they passed through the square. “Mom, what are they doing?” “Shh. Quiet!” It was still June. A time when civilization was not yet fully collapsed but on the verge. Even in Busan, there were still pedestrians on the streets. Having to sweat profusely while bare-chested in front of such ordinary people was unbearable for Schopenhauer. Yet, the balance of the world must always be maintained. “Tsk, tsk. A swordsman who can’t even wield a sword properly?” Someone's plight was another's delight. The Undertaker, serving as a swordsmanship instructor, was relishing his ‘being alive’ in real-time. “Hey? Like this. Hey? Swing it like this. Ah, come on. How is this hard?” “It’s fuckin’ hard! You bastard! How am I supposed to keep up with a crazy guy who’s been swinging a sword for thousands of years?!” Schopenhauer yelled in exasperation. Although he had been in a similar outburst earlier and faced a five-minute punishment, he couldn’t hold back this time. The Undertaker responded nonchalantly. “Then maybe don’t skip through thousands of years.” “…….” “Do you know why I practiced swordsmanship? Because someday, when you joined the Regression Alliance, it was to personally master and teach the best strategy to make you the greatest swordsman. The desire for you, the belief in you, made me hold the sword. And you find this difficult? Oh dear. This is why trusting people is pointless. If you can’t, then maybe the sword should just be broken, oh dear.” “This is…… ridiculous…….” Schopenhauer despaired. No matter how he resisted, he couldn’t win in an argument. In terms of legitimacy, skill, and logic, he was utterly defeated. The phrase ‘don’t skip through regression’ had no counter. “Hey, mister!” A girl with a cap atop her vibrant red hair came running over. It was Oh Dok-seo. In her hands, paper cups were audibly sloshing. “Here! I brought caffeine boosters!” “Ah. Thanks a lot. No one else but you, Dok-seo.” “Right? Yay!” With a leap, Oh Dok-seo delivered a high-five to the Undertaker. From the outside, she seemed nothing but innocent. But Schopenhauer never let his guard down. In just the past few days, he had painfully realized that behind that pure smile lurked a streak of madness that rivaled even the Undertaker’s. "To be honest, right now, there's no Regression Alliance member who shares a deep connection with you, is there? You were supposed to save people like Cheon Yo-hwa or Dang Seo-rin, but I did it first. You must be proud of me, and yet, a part of you might feel as if you’ve experienced a kind of NTR (Netorare)……” “That’s spot on.” “But don’t worry! I have no intention of stealing your potential heroines, mister! In fact, I’ll support you with all my might, front and back, so you can enact your own NTR on me!” “You. Your taste is something else.” “Hehehehe.” “Ahahaha.” These lunatics— Something else seemed to leak from Schopenhauer's mind, which was already on the brink. Humanity, or perhaps his soul, had departed. Eavesdropping on the conversation between these two regressors and the possessed, his sanity dropped in real-time. He tried to understand, but the only truth discovered was that the deeper you delved into these people, the more you realized that comprehending them only drove the reader more insane—the human-grimoire paradox. “When will you stop the useless training for No-show (Schopenhauer)? He’s just an ordinary man who got eliminated early in your cycles. If you want him to be useful now, wouldn't you have to invest hundreds more cycles in training?” “Yeah, let’s just do it.” Absolute lunatics— The hand gripping Schopenhauer's sword trembled. If just a week brought such anguish, and he was expected to repeat this for hundreds of cycles (with each cycle averaging 20 years)? Was this hell? ‘They are not human. They’re monsters wearing human skins. Only I, even as a regressor, who has maintained my humanity, can vanquish them.’ “Hmm? Trainee Schopenhauer, your swordsmanship lacks energy. Can I take this as a sign that you have no intention of having dinner with Lady Adele this evening?” “No, not at all!!” “Depending on your attitude, I can be either the King of the Underworld or your wise Confucius. As you meet Lady Adele, what kind of trainee do you wish to be?” “Uh, what kind of trainee?” “Are you a lazy, uncommitted No-show Untermensch (Sub-human in German) trainee? Or are you a disciplined Uebermensch (Superhuman in German) trainee of recursion?” Gulping, Oh Dok-seo, who was sipping her bubble tea beside him, furrowed her brows. The straw in her paper cup shook slightly. “I feel weak. It drains me to hear that the family of someone I saved is an Untermensch. What to do? I feel so listless and tired. At this rate, I might as well verify the existence of a person who neglected companions and the world for 3,000 cycles and publish the truth in Germany. As a writer, I’d be committing the gravest sin…….” These bastards. Tears welled up in Schopenhauer's eyes. 3. In truth, Schopenhauer’s tears were more of an exaggeration. At least to the Undertaker and Oh Dok-seo, who had poured their own blood directly into their respective routes, his reaction seemed uncalled for. Yet, even as the ‘young-at-heart old folks’ humored the complaints, the reason they invested time in this Swordmaster-Maker folly was simple. “Strictly speaking, the old man's power isn’t just swordsmanship. It’s the [Ability to Cut Anything].” “Yeah, precisely.” During their strategy meeting, With the aged Schopenhauer fainted at their feet from a full day of training, the Undertaker and Oh Dok-seo were already discussing their plans for the next cycle. “So far, No-show can only cut real physical substances. Yet, if he follows along with our training――.” “If we're just looking at the potential of his power, someday he might cut through abstract concepts.” Both nodded simultaneously. “Isn’t that a totally overpowered ability?” “Right.” This was precisely why the Undertaker never gave up on his former comrade, Emit Schopenhauer. “Without relying on Leviathan’s aura, he can practically fight as an ultimate aura user against anomalies.” “Wow. If I had that kind of power, I’d be thanking you in my prayers, Go Yo-il, three times a day. What’s No-show’s problem?” “Exactly.” “Ugh, oh no……” Even while fainting, Schopenhauer sometimes twitched and spasmed, but, unfortunately, no one here sympathized with his suffering. Pain was part of enlightenment. “Ah.” As the old man’s groans subsided, Oh Dok-seo stretched her legs and looked up at the night sky. “Somehow, being able to see and talk to you like this feels like a dream.” “Oh, does it?” “Yeah. From my perspective, you were a character in a novel, a prophet in the scriptures. It’s bound to feel special.” Oh Dok-seo spoke as if it was nothing. “It’s for moments like this that hundreds or thousands of versions of me died…….” “…….” “Hmm? Oh, no need to be sorry. I did what I wanted to do. If anything, I’m sorry to you for forcing all those 20-year cycles on you because of how many times I died.” Oh Dok-seo giggled. “Did you know? Actually, I conspired with the precognitive sister to steal a glimpse of you from ‘Cycle 0’ from afar.” “Oh my goodness.” “Even though my schedule was tight and I barely had any free time, my curiosity was too great. I was dying to know. What kind of person are you? What would the returner look like, the one my past selves, and I in the future, would strive to rescue with strategies written in blood……” As Oh Dok-seo exhaled, a bit more moisture rose into the night sky, causing the starlight to twinkle just a bit more faintly. Life’s oldest secret. At times, the glitter of stars would sync with the rhythm of her heartbeat, a phenomenon Oh Dok-seo found fascinating. “And what was your impression after observing?” “Oh, that's not the person I was looking for.” Oh Dok-seo turned her gaze to the Undertaker, her crimson eyes holding a touch of starlit intoxication. “The person I wanted to save wasn’t that man.” “…….” “It wasn’t Go Yo-il, who had lost all his memories from thousands of cycles and returned to being an ordinary human. No. I wanted to save the human who endured all those times.” Sleek. Oh Dok-seo gently stroked the back of his hand. From the Undertaker’s perspective, it was nothing unusual. Within the Regression Alliance, the 'Axis Powers' composed of Lee Ha-yul, Oh Dok-seo, and Sim Ah-ryeon enjoyed considerable freedom when it came to 'physical contact with the Undertaker,' more so than the other members. After all, the possibility of romance had plunged below 0%. “When I 'first' saw you again in the waiting hall of Busan Station, I was convinced. Wow. The person standing there was completely different from the one I'd spied on just days before.” “…….” However. ‘Huh?’ Thump. The Undertaker sensed a foreboding unease. ‘Wait a second. Come to think of it, the Oh Dok-seo of the past was a trash author who kept getting postponed, but this one before me is a legendary possessor who’s realized miracles rivaling those of Go Yo-il or myself, isn’t she?’ The Undertaker had unconsciously been regarding the Oh Dok-seo in front of him as just another part of the 'Axis Powers,' part of the kid's brigade. But naturally, Oh Dok-seo from back then differed vastly from the accomplished possessor before him now. ‘In just about a month, she managed to recruit key figures like Cheon Yo-hwa, rescued Lady Adele, improved the Udambara through the Sword’s Influence, maneuvered Jeong Sang-guk, and delivered ability-erasing tools across Korea and even worldwide.’ How could anyone see her as that trashy author from back then? Originally, this Oh Dok-seo had long hair until just before they met at the Busan Station waiting hall. She had only cut her hair to maintain the image of being 'the Oh Dok-seo the Undertaker knew.' So in essence? This current Oh Dok-seo was a monster who had farmed experience from parts unknown to the Undertaker, beyond what he knew. “I don’t want a conclusion where you forget everything, like memories and capabilities, leaving you empty. You’re not the person I want if that's the case.” Indescribable emotions were mixed and dissolved in her crimson eyes. “So, just as that No-show vanished into the regression, I hope you’ll abandon any thoughts of fleeing either through salvation or sacrifice.” Press. Oh Dok-seo’s grip on the back of his hand intensified slightly. “I want the you of the present.” At that moment. ‘Could it be, am I actually…….’ A very unique kind of alarm, one that had never been triggered by the person before him, started to blare intensely in the Undertaker’s mind. ‘Is she flirting with me? Dok-seo??’ Alias, the Undertaker. Real name, Go Yo-il. He faced the crisis of a lifetime. ---TL NOTE: lol.--- ---PS NOTE: I have zero idea why Dok-seo calls Old Man Scho Noshow.---