Infinite Regressor, Chapter 448 - I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

2. Does time pass quickly or slowly? For a regressor, it was an easy question to answer. The speed of time's passage depended solely on how strong one's grip over time was. The Undertaker was not a sadist. He wasn't a pervert who derived pleasure from watching someone groan in pain and excitement. But for one subject alone. In the matter of tormenting 'time', he possessed an innate talent. [Mr. Undertaker.] [Could you spare a moment?] It was around ten years after he had picked up a monster named Sim Ah-ryeon at Busan Station. By then, the Undertaker had already established his own ecosystem on the Korean peninsula, treading the optimal path. The telepathic message had come from the Saintess. She, too, was a significant resource within the ecosystem the Undertaker had crafted. "Yes, Saintess." Thus, he wrapped his words in a tone softer than usual, offering just the right amount of guise so as not to appear hypocritical. "Has something happened?" [Um, it's about Sim Ah-ryeon.] The Saintess hesitated, uncharacteristically wavering. Perhaps, by now, the term 'uncharacteristic' had long become unsuitable. Over the past decade, the Undertaker had not only engaged in weekly studies with the Saintess every Wednesday but had also shared every detail of his life with her. It was more than enough time to attempt gaslighting a single person. The Undertaker had lived through an overwhelming span of time compared to the Saintess. His knowledge, life experiences, methods of handling and strategies against the anomalies—all exceeded hers. In every field, the Saintess couldn't match him. Naturally, as the Undertaker intended, her psychological structure was in the process of reconstruction. This was how he managed the Saintess, the strongest awakened one with the clairvoyant ability [Clairvoyance]. As she looked to him, he also observed her. Her power had shifted from a one-way street to two-way interaction, becoming ingrained in her to seek the Undertaker's 'correct opinions' whenever she made a judgment on any matter. Respect. Admiration. Consideration. Names of petals easily tainted by malice. ‘This is the most certain and straightforward route to prevent the Saintess from falling into corruption.’ Now, the Saintess hardly trusted her own judgments on anything. Even upon witnessing ethical maleficence or moral flaws, she would seek the Undertaker's 'opinions'. It was an ingenious counter. Is one's own corruption a problem? Then simply eliminate oneself from the equation. ‘With this, I've restrained the Saintess, who could have been humanity’s greatest potential threat. Yet her role as a lookout remains intact.’ Satisfied with this arrangement, he responded in an even gentler tone. "What's about Ah-ryeon? Did something unfortunate happen to her?" [Um, well. According to your direction... Whenever something bad occurs, I hint that it’s all Sim Ah-ryeon’s fault using the names of the constellations…] "Ah. You're doing very well." The Undertaker offered a wry smile. "You know well about Ah-ryeon's abilities, don't you? Her personality, too, considering the deep conversation you both had last time." [...Yes.] "That's how it is with Ah-ryeon. The more people blame and hate her, the stronger her powers grow. Not to mention her self-healing ability, so even if she gets hit with stones somewhere, she remains unscathed, right?" [...] Silence lingered. As she contemplated whether to speak or not, her hesitation could be felt through the telepathy, and the Undertaker quickly thought to himself. 'Admin of the Infinite Metagame. Has the Saintess activated her time-stopping ability?' [Answer: Affirmative.] 'Understood.' He maintained an innocently playful smile, as if unaware. "I understand it may seem that Ah-ryeon's treatment appears unjust." [Ah. Yes...] "Yet, setting that aside, I am grateful for you sharing your concerns with me.” [Pardon?] "Do you recall the promise we made last time? No matter about others, when you talk to me, don't use your time-stopping ability. Let’s just converse normally. That normalcy is the very method to prevent falling into corruption." [Ah...] There was a slight sense of embarrassment in the Saintess' voice. She must have felt flustered. But, as if oblivious to her state, the Undertaker continued speaking cheerfully. "Haha. Initially, even when you talked to me, you always spoke with perfect pronunciation and sentences." [Yes...] "Let me remind you, you don't have to do that in front of me. To me, you are already and always the most human, beyond any need for pretense. It's a bit embarrassing showing you my flaws, but... in doing so, you’re also showing them to me." [...] "I believe an equitable relationship is truly precious. It's enjoyable, don’t you think? Isn’t that right, Saintess?” [Yes, I… I am. Happy.] Silence fell once more. This time, the Undertaker deliberately remained quiet. As if even this silence was part of the 'sacred' relationship between the two, he gazed at the sky with a vague smile. And then. [Uh, Mr. Undertaker.] The Undertaker knew well that for the noble-hearted, sometimes a smile could be a more lethal wound than a gaze of resentment. “Yes?” [I’m sorry... Actually, just a moment ago. No, really, for a brief moment... I used the time-stopping ability.] "Oh." The Undertaker blinked. He had trained himself to control his expressions. To show a 'sad expression' now would be the hallmark of an amateur. Even an 'expression of restraint' was merely that of a journeyman. “No, actually. I’m the one who should apologize! I mean, ah, I didn’t realize. What I’m saying is.” Confusion. Bewilderment. That was indeed the most unbearable poison for those of true nobility and sincerity. "So, it was just for a brief moment, right? One second, maybe two. It's understandable. What I meant was... uh, avoiding using it excessively is already sufficient. I never meant for you to think you shouldn't use it at all, which could cause misunderstandings." [...] The Undertaker's venom managed to pierce straight into her heart effortlessly. For all the defenses the Saintess had built around her heart, it was a truly audacious poison. [...I'm sorry.] Her voice carried an undeniable sorrow, breathing like a breath before the actual breath. [Truly, I'm sorry.] "No, no. Saintess. Our concern was about falling into corruption, and just using time-stopping abilities a few times isn't going to cause that. Please don't worry. I'm sorry for speaking so insensitively." [...] Her breath quickened. This, too, was a calculated move in the game. What had the Saintess apologized for just now? For the very relationship she regarded as sacred, holy—the broken promise regarding that relationship. And for what did the Undertaker forgive? For the core reason they made the promise in the first place. To ensure she wouldn't fall into corruption and could continue existing as a human. By forgiving her, he reassured her that he still believed in her humanity. The Saintess's apology and the Undertaker's forgiveness intertwined yet twisted subtly. It was a deliberate twist. The Saintess was not oblivious enough to miss this distortion. However, she had become foolish enough to internalize the blame, unable to pass it onto others. Gentle, yet so very cruel. Abuse. [Yes...] "Well, since you were worried enough to share your concerns and advice... It wouldn't be good to leave Ah-ryeon completely alone." At this point, the Undertaker dealt the final blow to her psyche, like a gamer teabagging over a defeated opponent. He was swift to change topics to prevent the Saintess from dwelling too long on self-blame. The irony was that the new topic was a result of respecting her opinion. [Ah...] The Undertaker was blameless. All fault was placed on her, the Saintess alone. Ultimately, the Undertaker succeeded in coaxing the words he had been aiming for out of the Saintess. [Thank you... Mr. Undertaker...] Indeed. In this brutal chess game, mere apology wasn't enough. “Gratitude” was akin to declaring checkmate. It had to be heartfelt, yet painfully so. Forcing her to utter words of gratitude was a tactic for amateurs prone to brutality. Against someone like the Saintess, whose walls of the heart are towering, such a siege would never work. The Undertaker knew how to suffocate someone with mere consideration and respect. "You're welcome. Ah, by the way, I'm about to go see Ah-ryeon. Could you turn off your clairvoyance for a bit? I just want to have a private conversation." [...Yes, of course.] This scene. It had been endlessly repeated over the past ten years. Now, the Saintess had reached the point where she interpreted his request to stop her monitoring as an act of kindness, allowing her to spend time by herself after committing a 'mistake.' Such delicate surgery could never have been performed by the clumsy hands of the anomalies. The deadliest poison for humans always originated from human hands, and even more often, the tip of the tongue. "Thank you, Saintess." [No...] "Then I'll see you next time." The connection was severed. On the surface, the two had exchanged apologies and gratitude once each. For the Saintess, who trusted in logical judgment and the power of language, such a balanced exchange inevitably became a shackle she placed upon herself. "The fate of someone who can no longer listen to their own feelings." The Undertaker murmured after confirming that the clairvoyance had vanished. "Even if it is for her sake, it is hard not to feel pity." ["The Admin of the Infinite Metagame" is always impressed by how Player Undertaker handles the NPCs.] "Who asked for your admiration? Leave." [Answer: Neutral.] Neutral, of all things, neutral. The Undertaker chuckled softly and turned his steps. 3. With the telepathic map-hack cut off, it was time to ask the 'real constellations' for Sim Ah-ryeon's location, but. "I’d rather find her on my own two feet." Strangely enough, when it came to matters involving Sim Ah-ryeon, he felt no inclination to use the constellations’ power. "I doubt I'll need to go far, either." With a rough guess, she would be collapsed somewhere in one of the alleys just past the Tower of Babel's plaza. As always. But when opting for this kind of stroll, the Undertaker inevitably had to bear certain repercussions. "Ah! It's Mr. Undertaker!" "Mr. Undertaker! Where are you headed?" Countless requests for handshakes. Even on a short walk, the ordinary citizens or awakened ones— those 'extras' in Busan—were busy recognizing and greeting him. The Undertaker met them with a smile. "Just taking care of some business. Ms. Heil, is your shop doing well these days?" "Oh, with Mr. Undertaker watching over the city, of course, it's doing well! Drop by sometime, and we'll treat you lavishly!" "Mr. Undertaker! Visit our place too!" "Sure, sure. If Pastry Chef Seo-ah invites me, I must attend. I'll make time to come." Everyone, every passerby, clearly welcomed him with open arms. Though his heart bore a chill entirely opposite to the warmth on his face. "What a nuisance." Frankly, he lacked both the resources and the inclination to pay attention to these extras. The reason he invested in maintaining his image before the public lay elsewhere. "If I'm even slightly unkind to the citizens, Chief Noh Do-hwa will resign and leave, so naturally..." The cost of losing a top-tier talent like Noh Do-hwa outweighed the costs spent on image-making efforts. Ouch— For some reason, thinking of Chief Noh Do-hwa made a little corner of his heart tingle again, yet the Undertaker remained consistently indifferent. Ignore it. What does it matter? After all, the emotions he chose to ignore extended beyond just those concerning Noh Do-hwa. He was a seasoned expert in distinguishing between his heart and his mind. Before long, he arrived at the alley where Sim Ah-ryeon lay collapsed. She wasn't alone. At her side, standing tall like a bodyguard, was a woman with an impeccable posture. “Ah.” The woman with silver hair, Yu Ji-won, nodded gracefully when she saw the Undertaker. “You have arrived, Your Excellency.” “Yes. You always work hard carrying out your duties.” “You flatter me. It is my honor.” “Well then. How is Ah-ryeon doing?” “Hmm.” Yu Ji-won stepped aside slightly. “I can't judge whether she's doing well, but today’s dose of hatred and resentment has just been achieved.” Thanks to Yu Ji-won widening her stance, the scene in the alley came into clear view. The Undertaker locked eyes with the one he initially sought. “...” “...” Underneath a shabby wall, Sim Ah-ryeon lay sprawled, her eyes empty. One arm and one leg were severed. “...Ah.” Sim Ah-ryeon managed a faint smile. “You're here... Guild Leader?”