Infinite Regressor, Chapter 451 - I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

6. On that day, the Undertaker woke up late. ["Admin of the Infinite Metagame" substitutes as a daily alarm clock.] ["Admin of the Infinite Metagame" substitutes as a daily alarm clock.] ["Admin of the Infinite Metagame" substitutes as a daily alarm clock.] Had it already passed noon? If the Outer God hadn’t been so diligent in bombarding him with messages, who knows how much longer he would have slept through the morning. “What time is it...?” ["Admin of the Infinite Metagame" informs you that it’s 12:02 PM.] “Ugh.” A groan escaped the Undertaker’s lips. The past ten years. No, including the previous timelines, he hadn’t really slept for hundreds of years. ‘...Just how long has it been since I overslept?’ His mind was foggy. The bedroom was dim. Given that it was an artificially created living space in the void that was once the original Inunaki Tunnel, the lighting was bound to be dismal. He could faintly sense a whiff of dust. It was bleak. Unlike other world lines, the Undertaker hadn’t opened a café here. In this place, the Undertaker didn’t need to devise expressions to showcase the strength of the Awakened, like depth of 100 meters, 1,000 meters, or the like. The allied Infinite Metagame was sufficient to simply display levels with a “status screen” click. And so it was. —Rustle, rustle. It was only after a while that he noticed an indistinct silhouette in the corner of the room, hunched like a ghost, absorbed in drawing. “Hah!” “Eek!” The Undertaker jumped, and the person drawing also jumped. Their timing was impeccable. If they competed in any Olympic event that required duos, they might have made it to the podium. As a result of the jump, the doctor's gown draped over the other person slipped off like an old rag. “Oh, Ah-ryeon?” “Ah. Yes... You’re awake?” “What are you doing there? I thought an anomaly had invaded my bedroom and scared me.” “Umm... Sorry. I really don’t feel like talking right now, so please shut up...” The Undertaker’s mind grew a bit more foggy. And this time, it didn’t seem due to remnants of sleep. ‘Since reaching this position, is there anyone else besides Director Noh Do-hwa who dares to tell me to shut up?’ Fortunately, the Undertaker was riddled with vices, but 'pride' and 'arrogance' were not among them. In fact, if anything, it was the opposite. If someone stabbed him while he walked down the street, he wouldn’t have felt particularly angry. Neither others nor he himself realized the depths to which his mental state had sunk. Thus, despite being told to shut up by someone as inconsequential as Sim Ah-ryeon—a person much weaker than him and even treated as a traitor to humanity—he indeed shut up. Though his mouth was shut, his hands were free. He fought off the enemy called sleep with a cup of brewed caffeine. While he was at it, he also changed the soiled sheets and blankets. “Here. Coffee.” “......” “Not knowing what kind you like, I roughly made a café latte.” Sim Ah-ryeon didn’t respond. She neither touched her lips to the coffee he brought nor acknowledged it. She only continued to move her brush without pause. “Hmm.” The Undertaker shrugged. Then, as he attempted to sip his espresso, his gesture halted, stiffening mid-air. His gaze fixed on the canvas before him. “......” It was astounding. Truly, it was. His linguistic abilities were momentarily paralyzed. That was how intense the colors that Sim Ah-ryeon had summoned—red and blue—pulsed like veins. ‘...Even a novice like me can see it. It's a formidable piece.’ Yet, that was as far as his understanding went. The current Undertaker lacked the critical eye to intricately describe why, how, and to what extent that painting was extraordinary. What could he do? He never once invested effort into nurturing or caring for 'hobbies' or 'preferences.' ‘Infinite Metagame. What level is this painting?’ ["Admin of the Infinite Metagame" assesses the painting in front of the player as ominous.] ‘Ominous?’ The Undertaker tilted his head. It was a word rarely uttered by his celestial partner. No. Perhaps it was a term and tone he heard for the first time in millennia. [The world depends on the perception of sentient beings. Artwork is always an attempt to rival the world.] [Therefore, a highly completed work is no different from a void.] [Player Undertaker, the painting in front of you is a void.] “......” ["Admin of the Infinite Metagame" recommends designating the painting as a void and incinerating it immediately.] The Undertaker did not do as recommended. Instead, he continued to observe. Endlessly. The artist spared no tool in her arsenal. Sometimes a brush; sometimes her palm or fingers. She painted using oil paints that exuded their distinct, boiled aroma, smearing it onto her bare skin. “Phew-ah.” Apparently, she had awoken long before him. Within less than two hours, the finishing touches were applied to the canvas. “O-Oh, it’s been so long... Truly a long time since I painted!” Sim Ah-ryeon stretched with a long yawn. From her contented grin to her fully stretched limbs, pure satisfaction radiated from her being. “Yes. You worked hard. Enjoy the coffee.” “Ah! Coffee...!” Like all other art school graduates, Sim Ah-ryeon too was a slave to caffeine. Her brain delighted in the rare visit from its master. “Aah, delicious... The guild leader makes good coffee. Though, I do prefer mine a bit sweet...” “How was I supposed to know your taste? It's a precious bean, so appreciate it as it is.” “Yes.” As Sim Ah-ryeon sipped her café latte, the Undertaker leisurely examined the completed work. “Is that a depiction of a dog?” “Hmm. Yes, well...” “There’s a hint of dissatisfaction in your response.” “Well, it’s just that I find it quite tedious to explain my work to an amateur who doesn’t understand art...” “I may not be familiar with the art world, but isn’t it part of an artist’s professional duty to explain the meaning and context of their work to others?” “Sh-Shut up. Just keep quiet. Look if you want. Or don’t.” A brief silence followed. “By the way, where did you get the paint and canvas from? I don't think we keep those supplies at this hideout.” “Oh, I asked Yu Ji-won to gather them.” “?” The Undertaker turned his head. Sipping quietly beside him, Sim Ah-ryeon continued to nurse her coffee. “Yu Ji-won did?” “Yes? Yes.” “This is my hideout. How did Yu Ji-won even get your request, and why...? Ah, did she use the saint’s telepathy?” “What? Ah, no?” “...Then?” “Well, I had a schedule this morning. Came by at dawn to prepare. Yu Ji-won knocked on the door. But, you see, I felt like painting today. So I canceled my schedule and asked her to bring the art supplies instead.” “She... came here? To this room, personally?” “Yes? Yes.” “Why wasn’t I aware of this?” “? You were asleep...?” “......” The Undertaker looked over. At the existence known as Sim Ah-ryeon standing right in front of him. Though she was draped in a ragged robe, it didn’t fully cover her. Marks of time. To put it bluntly, remnants of last night were bare and visible. Then he looked down. At his own body. He looked back. There was the bed. Although he'd changed the sheets and blankets earlier, it hadn’t solved the smell lingering in the room. “......” The Undertaker dashed out. “Ah. You're up.” At the entrance of the Inunaki Tunnel, Yu Ji-won stood leisurely under a parasol, waiting. He impulsively grabbed both of Yu Ji-won's shoulders. Shake, her lithe frame swayed slightly. “Ji-won.” “Yes, sir.” Yu Ji-won’s face was as perfectly expressionless as ever. No different from yesterday, giving him a spark of hope. Of course, as is the case with hope, it often preludes despair. Shortly, a classical symphony echoed from her perfectly shaped lips. “Did you enjoy last night?” “......” Da-da-da-dum— It was the Symphony of Fate. “I apologize, Yu Ji-won. Whatever you witnessed early this morning, please forget it.” “Hmm? Very well.” Yu Ji-won said, unfazed, still held by the shoulders. Considering the Undertaker’s eyes were reddened, it was a testament to Yu Ji-won's unshakeable nerve. “I assumed that your feelings had settled on Sim Ah-ryeon, sir. If this was merely a passing quirk, it’s a relief. It means Sim Ah-ryeon won't have any reason to slander me.” “Don’t tell me... you saw that spectacle at dawn and, just to protect your position and curry favor with Sim Ah-ryeon, you scrambly fetched canvas and paints for her?” “Yes. In a managerial position like mine, one must perpetually heed the winds of power.” “You're truly insane, you know that?” “It’s precisely that kind of madness that secured me this position under you, sir. I am ever grateful for my own insanity.” “…Who else knows?” “Oh, don't worry. I specifically instructed the saint not to spy on you while you’re with Sim Ah-ryeon today.” “The saint knows too!” He vigorously shook the shoulders he held. Fervently. Yet despite turning her world into a rollercoaster, extracting a concession of ‘The Undertaker is too intense as a ride’ from Yu Ji-won was far from feasible. “Who else? Who else knows?” “Sir, I apologize, but I haven’t divulged this fact to anyone. I merely submitted a very favorable warning to cease surveillance, pertaining strictly to you. If someone inferred a particular fact from that directive, it was due to their deduction, not my disclosure...” “Who else knows!” “Sim Ah-ryeon is under my supervision and I belong to the National Road Management Department. Naturally, I have to report schedule changes to my superior.” “Noh Do-hwa, the Head of Road Management!?” “It’s indeed true that my superior holds such a title.” “Noh Do-hwa, the Head of Road Management!?” “Sir, you have begun to unwittingly unleash your aura through your grip on my shoulders.” “Noh Do-hwa, the Head of Road Management!?” “Hmm. If you indeed seek my confirmation again, yes. That’s correct.” “......” Da-da-da-dum— “Sir, though this may seem overly cautious, I assure you I held no malice or acrimony toward Sim Ah-ryeon. Please extend understanding and patience regarding my professional conduct to her as well...” The Undertaker sprinted away. The citizens who recognized him attempted casual chitchat but couldn’t keep up. His strides were as swift as when engaging foes in the cosmic battles, not easily tracked by the unawakened. In under two minutes, he barged into the Tower of Babel, the control office for the National Road Management headquarters. “Noh Do-hwa, Head of Management.” “Yes. Did you get that formal knocking style from a dog-eating leftovers?” “Whatever speculations and assumptions you make don’t align with reality.” “Reality? What reality...?” Noh Do-hwa rifled through some papers. “You stuck a fellow 'humans accomplice' beneath endless torment, only to seemingly reconvene with some moral flip or late-blooming attraction by bedding the very sacrifice you’ve created? Even a beast doesn’t stoop so low. That certainly can’t be reality...” “......” Da-da-da-dum— ‘How did it come to this?’ The Undertaker clutched his head, slumping down. He loathed being in these situations. Whether before Yu Ji-won or Noh Do-hwa. It was instinctive to abhor any circumstance that forced the presumption he was human in discourse. At some level, Noh Do-hwa, Head of Management, understood his aversion. Until now, they had coexisted without trampling on each other's dislikes. The precariously and painstakingly maintained wall of mutual tolerance shattered astonishingly easily. The Undertaker's anxiety surged, unbeknownst to him. "Well, well." Noh Do-hwa smirked with her eyes. "Who knew you could make such a face...?" “......” "I always thought it was a shame that someone who's not even human could only act less human. Now it seems you're quite the greenhorn in this area...? Hah, what a ridiculous joke..." "Just one thing." The Undertaker ground his teeth together, slowly. "Let's set something straight, Head of Management." "Do as you please. Or would you rather do as you damn well please..." "I did not seduce her. Absolutely not. I swear to the heavens, I had no intention whatsoever." "What a remarkably trashy statement..." "She's the one who came on to me." "Have you lost your mind... for real?" "That’s the truth!" "What a way to spout nonsense..." A scornful laugh. Noh Do-hwa didn't take his excuses seriously at all. ‘Oh!’ Only then did the Undertaker realize. ‘Indeed! They don’t know! No one knows what kind of person Sim Ah-ryeon really is!’ His body shook not out of joy at his realization but from fear. ‘To anyone, I seem like the one with power. The strong one. So if I say Sim Ah-ryeon came at me, they'd just laugh!’ ‘Whatever relationship has formed between us. Whatever has already formed. The appearance and reality are completely different!’ But the Undertaker had no one to complain to. Because... wasn’t this a familiar picture? ‘It’s me!’ His brain wasn’t entirely rotten yet. Concepts like self-awareness and self-reflection still lingered within his skull. ‘When I deal with the saint! Or anyone else! I’ve been the one acting all along. I resolved not to make excuses for that. So, so…’ He couldn’t make excuses! ‘There's no way to explain that Sim Ah-ryeon cannot just be seen as the pathetic victim you assume!’ What kind of unreasonable fate was this? ―Knock knock. It was then. Someone knocked on the office door. “Hmm...?” As the Undertaker, caught in the throes of fate's mockery, kept silent, the duty to question the visitor naturally fell to Noh Do-hwa. “Who is it...?” -I apologize. A clear voice echoed beyond the door. -It’s Team Leader Yu Ji-won, Head of Management. The Undertaker looked up sharply. Yu Ji-won? Again, at this timing? Why? “Team Leader Yu? Didn’t you take a day off today? What brings you here...?” -I am truly sorry. But I had no choice but to bring someone who needs to see the Undertaker. Noh Do-hwa furrowed her brows. The Undertaker’s eyebrows trembled with surprise. Both for the same reason. Yu Ji-won, that power-oriented psychopath, had referred to a guest with the honorific ‘분’ (bun), signifying respect. In Yu Ji-won's worldview, the Undertaker and Noh Do-hwa were beyond such formalities. To claim there was someone who ‘needs to see the Undertaker’ implied that a new character, seemingly more significant than the Undertaker or Noh Do-hwa, had suddenly been added to their world. “…come in.” -Yes. The door opened. “Oh! G-Guild Leader!” “…….” Da-da-da-dum— “I was surprised when you suddenly left. I was going to ask for another cup of coffee. Oh. Thank you for bringing me here, Team Leader Yu Ji-won...” “It was nothing. Painter Sim Ah-ryeon. I am but a mere microorganism unfit for such a gathering, so I shall take my leave.” “Y-Yes. Please take care of the painting I entrusted to you…” “Do you mean this? In comparison to such a masterpiece, my life is as insignificant as that of a fly. If required, I would sacrifice even the Louvre and the Musée d'Orsay to protect Painter Sim Ah-ryeon's work.” “Yes!” “Upon reflection, a title like ‘Painter’ seems inadequate for someone capable of creating such a grand piece. How about Emperor of Art or God of Art… or Heavenly Art Spirit?” “Hmmm… Heavenly Art Spirit...” “Would Ascended Artform be preferable? I've heard that according to the current trend in media, the term ‘ascended’ holds more esteem than ‘god’.” The Undertaker finally understood the entire situation. ‘You betrayed me, Yu Ji-won!’ Indeed. The moment she saw the scene in the bedroom at dawn, Yu Ji-won had cataloged the hierarchy with her brilliant mind. ‘Why would the Undertaker be with Sim Ah-ryeon?’ ‘Why would the Protector of Humanity be with its Traitor?’ Such questions didn’t intrigue her. ‘Ah, now the Traitor of Humanity is actually the Protector’s predator.’ That was the correct answer. Yu Ji-won deftly shifted her stance. From now on, deceiving someone like the Undertaker was inconsequential. Who would bother to punish her for deceiving him? Gaining Sim Ah-ryeon’s favor was more than enough. It was customary for court eunuchs to wail from the palace rooftop when a king died, and Yu Ji-won was indeed loyal as a subordinate. Delivering paint while immediately informing the saint and Noh Do-hwa made it so the Undertaker couldn’t turn back. "Yu Ji-won! Team Leader Yu Ji-won! Even though I valued you highly! How could you do this to me?" “My apologies.” Yu Ji-won exited the room with the grace of a swan. She survived. Yesterday. Today. And undoubtedly, tomorrow too.