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

6. "Strictly speaking—" A distant memory. A memory lost once before during the 'first round' of my life. A memory barely reclaimed by living it once more as a reincarnator. "The doctor cannot truly be considered a regressor." Go Yuri and I. The two of us were the only turncoats in a world on the brink of destruction orchestrated by grotesques, plotting rebellion against our doomed fate. "The only true 100% regressor would be Mr. Schopenhauer." Our conversations always took place in rooms secluded from time, in stations where the trains had ceased to stop. Our words were spoken with the caution of spies infiltrating a ruling nation. "Nonetheless, doctor, you stand 'effectively' in the same position as a regressor. Isn't that fascinating?" "Perfect memory ability." "Yes, exactly. As this world repeats its cycles, you merely don't lose your memories." Go Yuri smiled. "But to deceive an enemy, you must first deceive your allies. From now on, doctor, you will act as a regressor, believing it yourself, mocking both allies and enemies." "......" "In the end, no one will grasp your true identity. Even if some sidelined gods recognize the world's repetition, they won't uncover your real name—" My real name and destiny. Go Yo-il, the one who remembers. "You won't be targeted by the grotesques unless you give up on yourself." "......" "So, doctor." Go Yuri held my hand. "We are the only ones in this world who allow ourselves to be conquered by each other." "......Go Yuri." "Yes, Go Yo-il." Jingle. The silver bell on her wrist cast a small shadow. "I entrusted my name to you. You did the same for me." "And knowing my identity, eventually I will come to live your life entirely." "We are one." Such a promise. "Together, let's save this world." The silver bell swayed. In the fate where we plotted rebellion, the world was a place where either neither of us existed, or both of us did. Our martyrdom was thwarted. The spirit who succeeded us declared it too early for our funeral. Born with a fate to merely remember and record the past, I pondered whether to finally believe in the future. Real name, Go Yo-il. Alias, The Undertaker. Other aliases— 'Infinite Regressor,' 'False Reincarnator,' 'Undertaker,' 'Rememberer,' 'Time Sealer,' 'Conqueror.' Schopenhauer's strength training partner. Sim Ah-ryeon's guild master. Dang Seo-rin's gourmet tour companion. Cheon Yo-hwa's mentor. Seo Gyu's brother. Yu Ji-won's driver. Lee Ha-yul's godfather. Hong Bi-cheong’s foot towel. Benefactor of the Magical Girl Association. Oh Dok-seo's author. Noh Do-hwa's nemesis. Many other names. Family to someone. False Regressor. Final regression, commencing. 7. I opened my eyes. 'June 17th, 1:59 PM.' The time limit. '60 seconds remaining.' The final assault determining whether the world would be fully saved or not. Not a single second could be squandered. Therefore, not even a moment was wasted in assessing the starting point here in Busan Station's waiting room. "Hey, mister!" The waiting area was dim. A station in blackout, stripped of its artificial lights. Symbolic of a place no longer the exclusive domain of the regressor, now a shared crossroads with the spirits. "Now!" No need for lengthy explanations. Our operational schedule was meticulously planned down to the second. The fact that the chosen assault team, meticulously selected by us, occupied the seating instead of the 399 randomly summoned individuals was evidence enough. And then. "......" "......" "......" The assault team members lay in the center of the waiting room with their eyes closed, seemingly 'asleep.' Not just key players from the regression alliance like Dang Seo-rin, Yu Ji-won, Cheon Yo-hwa, Sim Ah-ryeon, Lee Ha-yul, Seo Gyu, and Noh Do-hwa, but even significant outsiders like Sword Marquess, Great Priestess, Manyo Neko, and Nenet—all lined up as if resting in a common grave. "Hoeeek—" Around the stretched-out individuals, hundreds of 'tutorial fairies' danced in circles, hand in hand. "Is that Secretary-General whom Oh Dok-seo mentioned?" "Right! Stop talking and put him to sleep now!" "Sigh. There's no paradise where one flees. Freed from one tyrant's control, only to face another's violence..." Time limit. 50 seconds. "Lullaby, lullaby, my dear baby—" "When mother goes—" "Twinkle, twinkle, little star—" The fairies wove songs into their dance. Enchantments, a primal emptiness for humans, a spell drawing them into the dream realm ruled by dreams and nightmares. The drowsiness rapidly tugged at my eyelids. "Catch this! Mister!" Oh Dok-seo tossed something to me. I swiftly caught it in mid-air. A silver bell. "No-show will join soon! I'll stay here until that old man arrives and then go in with him! Don't worry! Mister, you go ahead—" Her voice faded away. Because my consciousness had plunged into the void masquerading as a dream, ensnared by the spell woven by hundreds of nightmares. But I wasn't worried. 'I know, Dok-seo.' Just like she trusted me, I trusted her. Time limit. 40 seconds. 'For the always-tardy old-timer.' Dive. And on to the next stage. 'I'll leave it to you.' The scene changed swiftly. "Welcome, Mr. Matiz." It was a shabby alleyway. Much like the '0th Station' just moments ago, the people in this '1st Station' alley were lined up, slipping into sleep. However, Yu Ji-won was not outside the alley but inside a car, seated in the passenger seat, looking at me as I opened my eyes in the driver's seat. "I've been waiting." "Why don't you go ahead?" "How could I abandon my task of waiting for Mr. Matiz?" Yu Ji-won wore a faint smile. "Everyone's gone ahead and is waiting." "Is that so?" "Yes. Since time hasn't slowed sufficiently here yet, it was fitting for someone with little to say to handle this." She extended her hand to me. "Sir." "......" "I wish you a good journey." I took her hand. It was cold. Since that rainy night when it seemed the rain might wash away the earth, Yu Ji-won's body temperature had always been cool. This was because she was preparing to accept the warmth of another. "So beautifully reflected—" Beyond the car window, from the rooftops of the villas and duplex houses lining the alley, the fairies sang a lullaby in chorus. "Please, go ahead." Listening to the song instead of the rain, I closed my eyes. The hands we clasped formed a slightly rounded shape. The smallest circle permitted on this earth. "Guiding the tardy ones is also my role. Mr. Matiz, would you wait, just this once, for me?" Time limit. 30 seconds. 'Of course, Ji-won.' Dive. And on to the next stage. "......" 2nd Station. "......Teacher." That place was a classroom basked in the evening glow, fully immersing itself in it. Already, I was rapidly approaching a dream within a dream. Time had long since twisted. The second hand probably moved much slower here than in reality. The space was equally strange. The classroom in the dream, unlike reality, was somehow distorted, its size hard to measure. Hundreds of people were slumped over their desks, seeking sleep. Only one student with orange hair stood out, looking at me with a face on the verge of tears. "Sorry for forgetting." "It's not your fault, Yo-hwa." "But my sister, and teacher too......" "We all acted selfishly and disappeared from your memory. Those who think they are smart often make many mistakes." Cheon Yo-hwa was regaining her memory. Was it the result of Dok-seo's attack on the pseudo-religious sect? Or was it the debris accumulated at the great void of the dream within a dream that 'backlashed' and engulfed Yo-hwa? 'Probably both.' Oh Dok-seo had persuaded Yo-hwa before June 17 arrived. Thus, they had captured the nightmares, forming a strategy that lasted just 60 seconds. In the course of rehearsing this daringly risky operation, the Yo-hwa before me had surely become accustomed to the dream within a dream several times. "I don't mind if we fail." "......" "Actually, I hope the next round doesn't come. I barely got my memories back this way, but if the cycle begins again, I'll forget you, sir." I don't want that. Yo-hwa covered her face with her hand. "Really?" I patted the shoulder of my student. "I'd like to see Yo-hwa receive her graduation certificate and experience university life." "......" "It might not be that interesting. Yo-hwa, you've experienced too much. But experiencing the mundane and calling it mundane can be surprisingly rewarding." I spoke teasingly. "Besides, your trademark can't always remain a sailor uniform, can it? Aren't you curious to try different fashions?" "Uh......" "This will be my last regression." The classroom bathed in the sunset. Even with seats reserved for latecomers, there was still one chair left empty for a single person. "I apologize for the wounds of forgotten memories I've left you with." "......" "I was clumsy. Unskilled. I wanted to do well, but there were many things I couldn't. Can you forgive me?" The birch forest outside the window swayed. A thousand white shadows bled into the red. "Yes......" The song of that forest served as the lullaby of the dream's nightmares. "Sister, please, take good care." Time limit. 25 seconds. "Of course." Dive. And on to the next stage. "......" 3rd Station. This was not the red hue of the evening, but a more primal crimson. A mansion splattered with streaks of blood. Lee Ha-yul. A small girl sat in a wheelchair, her back turned, gazing at the mansion. [Why are you so late?] A murder that didn't occur in this round. Yet, already infected by the void poison that journeyed back from the dream within a dream, Lee Ha-yul seemed unfazed by the scene. "Time moves slowly here." [Is that your excuse?] "I'm sorry." The mansion, originally located in Fukuoka in reality, was, like the previous station, distorted in many ways. It resembled a backroom with haphazard corridors, doors, and stairs scattered throughout. The people participating in the operation were suspended from the ceiling by puppet strings, dozing off like a line of butchered meat. The stream of blood flowing beneath originated from a single person—Lee Ha-yul's father, Jung Sang-guk. [I've been thinking about murder.] As I approached, still fixated on the abattoir before her, Lee Ha-yul mumbled. [If the world repeats, doesn't even a single murder become like thousands, millions, beyond reckoning?] [I hated Jung Sang-guk.] [But was there ever a crime I could hate enough to justify killing thousands over eons? That's what I was pondering.] Lee Ha-yul looked up at me askance. [And love too.] "......" [For hundreds, thousands of times, you cared for me. How is that possible?] "Didn't you love me just the same?" [I only did that because I couldn't remember. It wasn't difficult at all.] "Not remembering, not knowing, and yet at the moment when love first takes place, loving someone eternally, endlessly, isn’t that wonderful?" I knelt before her wheelchair, lowering myself slightly below her eye level. "I always cheer for you, Ha-yul." [...Brother.] "When you get hurt, you’re the kind of person who asks whether that wound should be an eternal burden, and you answer 'no.'" [...] "When you receive love, you're amazed at how that love has reached eternity, and you rejoice in that miracle. Ha-yul, you possess courage and beautiful love stronger than anyone else's." Lee Ha-yul was. [...] Crying. She was someone whose cries and laughter were all treated silently. Because the world couldn't hear those sounds, she never cried to exaggerate her pain to others, nor laughed to show off to anyone. She solely built towers of tears and smiles for herself in her heart, while allowing the footsteps of others to ascend those towers. The most beautiful towers in the world are always built within the heart. "Once this is over, become independent." [...] "And let's go on a trip." [Far away?] "Very far away." Lee Ha-yul slowly leaned, relying on the armrest of her wheelchair. [Go ahead and wait for me.] Thump. The time that one person crossed over held a gentle weight, enveloping my head. From the tower of the heart, a silent song. The melody of longing for that day's summer resounded. [I love you, Dad.] Time limit. 22 seconds. "I love you too." Dive. And then. On to the next stage.