Infinite Regressor, Chapter 485 - Side Story, End. - I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

--- 18. Sometimes. Dang Seo-rin would have such dreams. -……. In her dream, upon opening her eyes, she would find the Undertaker right in front of her, shedding tears. It was at a crossroad. The crossroad where she first met the Undertaker at the start of this journey. -……? Naturally, Seo-rin couldn't figure out why the man in front of her was crying, or even who he was. Although his face was to her liking. 'Good. It's not reality.' Seo-rin quickly came to terms with it. From the beginning, the intersection seemed strange. Instead of living pedestrians, only bloodstains seemed to be walking around, making it harder not to see this as a dream. A dream within a dream. -I'm sorry, Seo-rin. The man always repeated his apologies while holding her close. -I'm sorry. -Um, excuse me… I'm sorry, but who are you? -I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was foolish. I used up all your lifespan. I didn’t know that lifespans could not only be shortened, but could actually go into the negative. -……? ……? -I'm sorry. Even speaking with you like this is only allowed for a brief moment. Truly, I'm sorry. It was a puzzle. However, the word 'lifespan' strangely made sense. From the moment she opened her eyes at the crossroad, her eyelids felt unbearably heavy. ‘Ah, in this dream, I die.’ Why was that? Surely, she had never experienced death, yet surprisingly, she could feel it. It was as if in reality, she had been dead for a long time, and thinking that she was alive was the actual dream. -I'm sorry, Seo-rin. I'm so sorry… The man apologized. Continuously. Her eyelids grew so heavy that she couldn't resist, and whenever she momentarily blinked, just for a fleeting second— -I'm sorry, Seo-rin. Again, as if time had never passed, the man repeated the same apology. It was bizarre. -……? The stranger part was that after blinking, she couldn’t remember anything about the man. -Um, sorry… Who are you? -I'm sorry. I'm sorry. The same question. The same answer. The same oblivion. The same repentance. Dozens, hundreds, thousands of times blinked until she couldn't keep count anymore. -I'm sorry. The man always embraced her at that crossroad, professing only his apologies. -……. Suddenly, Seo-rin felt as though the part of her being embraced by the man and the part of her watching the scene were separated. How should she describe it? Perhaps the one looking at the man’s crying with puzzled eyes was ‘real’ Seo-rin, and the one watching them blankly was ‘dream’ Seo-rin. Anyway, Seo-rin thought. ‘He doesn’t need to wound himself like that.’ Something had clearly gone wrong between them. What mistake was it? She couldn’t know for sure, but it was likely that whatever it was, it had trapped her in an irreversible fate. Yet, if it were her, ‘Seo-rin,’ she would certainly forgive someone who was so deeply apologetic. ‘I’m okay.’ Seo-rin was someone who knew how to love. She cherished her family. She took pride in herself. She was willing to sacrifice for her beloved. Her prideful life, undoubtedly, was built for people like the man before her, who would weep endlessly. Seo-rin could honestly declare. ‘I’m okay. Please don’t cry too much.’ However. -I’m sorry. She couldn't reach out. No matter how much she wished to convey that she was okay, the 'Seo-rin’ beyond the foggy crossroads couldn’t voice it. ‘I’m really okay.’ -I’m sorry, Seo-rin. Truly, I’m sorry. ‘…….’ Because the Seo-rin over there was a being within the dream. A different existence from herself within the dream within the dream. It was unreachable. '…….' If one were to ask which of the two was the lie, then naturally, the one watching the crossroad from afar was the lie. Seo-rin quietly thought. 'I don’t want to die.' Once, someone seemed to have wished for that. But in truth, she knew. At that time, she didn’t pray because she didn’t want to die, or because she wished to live forever. ‘I don’t want to die like this.’ Then, how did she wish to pass? What kind of death would allow the being who had wished for her to smile and accept death peacefully? Seo-rin pondered deeply. ‘I don’t want to leave you like this and die.’ She traced the edges of her wish with her fingertips. ‘Death is frightening. But…’ ‘With you, I think I would be alright.’ That was Seo-rin's wish. Her wish. ‘So then, my dear.’ She reached out. And finally opened her lips. -Please take care of me. My companion in time. 19. With a clatter and rumble, Seo-rin opened her eyes. Her vision was slightly hazy. “Ah, you’re awake?” A familiar voice sounded right beside her. Turning her head, she saw the Undertaker skillfully peeling a peach with a knife amidst the swaying train car. Had she nodded off and rested her head on him? The area around the Undertaker's shoulder was damp with drool. “…Oops.” Seeing that, the computer OS in Seo-rin’s mind began to boot up rapidly. “Sorry. I must have dozed off…” “No problem. You only slept for about 30 minutes. Perfect amount for a nap.” “Haa, where are we now?” Seo-rin took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the area on the Undertaker's shoulder. It didn’t particularly mean anything, these things were more about cleansing the heart than objects. The Undertaker laughed. “We’ll be arriving in Venice soon.” “Where do you think the others are docked?” “They’re probably too big to anchor in the city. They’ve likely docked offshore through an agent.” The subject of the docking conversation was, of course, none other than 'BusaN,' the mobile sea fortress and humanity's final defensive ark city. Even though they'd acquired an ultra-luxurious yacht, Seo-rin often found herself traveling separately by train with the Undertaker while sending the other members ahead. Traveling by ship wasn’t bad, but these train journeys particularly stirred Seo-rin's romantic sensibilities. ‘When I think about the trouble I went through with Sim Ah-ryeon just to enjoy this romance, I still get a headache…’ Well, it was all in the past now. “We’ve arrived. Shall we get off?” “Ah, yes!” Seo-rin and the Undertaker slung their backpacks over their shoulders and alighted at the train station. By all appearances, they were a backpacking couple. Who could guess that the two were owners of unimaginable wealth? They'd achieved the enviable life goal of being 'the wealthy unknown,' living a life many could only dream of. Though it might seem small as a reward for heroes who had saved the world from eternal destruction, they found themselves more than content. Likely, they could escape ruin because of their very nature. “Wow!” From Seo-rin's mouth, white breath puffed out in the chilly air. She was wrapped in a thick fur coat. “Look at that, Undertaker! People are really walking around in masks!” “Hmm.” “I had only ever seen it in videos! It’s a real carnival…!” Venice in winter. Though not the best weather for traveling, the winter season in Venice was a peak time thanks to the Carnevale di Venezia festival. Here and there. People in costumes, likely costly to rent, wandered about, indulging in cosplay. For Seo-rin, a professional in cosplay, it was an event to make her eyes light up. “Wait. I know you’re excited, but let’s first go to our accommodation and unload. With bags on, you’ll have a hard time renting any clothes.” “Okay!” Their lodging was right by the Grand Canal. When she was a student, a stay like this would've been unimaginable due to cost, but now they could rent an entire hotel without any issue. The staff was incredibly attentive and accommodating. Especially when the Undertaker spoke fluent Italian, the level of hospitality seemed to double in an instant. (Traveling with the Undertaker, the best moment was this dramatic change in kindness.) “Hmm?” After they finally reached their room and set down their backpacks, Seo-rin tilted her head in curiosity. “Where is everyone else? Did they go out?” As far as she knew, while they had been traveling just the two of them, they were supposed to be sharing the same accommodation by now. The Undertaker shrugged his shoulders. “Well, maybe they haven’t arrived yet. When I last spoke with them yesterday, they mentioned they might be a day or two late.” “Really?” Seo-rin nodded without much thought. If the Undertaker said so, then it must be true. On any other occasion, she might've been different, but she didn’t want to spend this precious time they had together micromanaging or making calls. “You go ahead and wash up first.” “Huh? Nah, it’s okay. It takes a lot of time. Let’s just wash together. The bathroom is spacious.” “Hmm. Shall we?” One hour later. Their bodies, weary and grimy from the journey, felt refreshed and clean. When Seo-rin emerged from drying her hair, a similarly cleaned-up Undertaker greeted her with a triumphant smile. “Look here, Seo-rin. If you open this wardrobe… ta-da.” “Oh my gosh.” “Not knowing your taste in masks, I had them gather a variety. Even a witch costume is perfectly prepared. A gift for you.” “Oh my gosh…!” Upon closer inspection, it was identical to the witch outfit she used to wear when she was the Guild Master of the Samcheon Worlds Guild. Upon flipping the lining, she saw the handiwork of meticulously hand-sewn stitches, not a machine's work. The emotions Seo-rin had since reaching the Venice train station surged to their peak. “No way. Undertaker, did you…?” “Ah, it has traditionally been the responsibility of the Vice Guild Master to maintain the Guild Master’s attire.” “I love you!” Another hour later. With the witch’s robe fitted, a growling sound from Seo-rin’s stomach echoed an internal alarm. “I’m hungry…!” “Traditional seafood dish? Pizza?” “Hmm. They say even Venice is known for its pizza?” “It’s Italy. Anywhere you go, it’s bound to be better than franchise pizza.” “Then pizza it is!” “Always the right choice.” With their bodies refreshed and their stomachs filled, paired with a glass of wine, Seo-rin found she had no further desires in life. “Ahh… This is good.” “That’s Caffè Florian over there, a famous spot even Goethe visited. In the renowned manga Aria, they said you could get refills of café au lait multiple times, but that’s actually a lie.” “You know, you sometimes nonchalantly show your otaku side… Aria? What’s that?” “Ah, you’re missing out on half your life.” “Then give me back my other half you took.” “I’ve stocked the entire Aqua and Aria series in the yacht’s library, so you must read them later.” “What’s this Aqua…?” Laughter echoed. With Seo-rin in her witch costume and the Undertaker donning a cape, the two wandered freely through the alleyways and squares of Venice, both wearing masks. Festival night. Everyone appeared to be in high spirits. At least, to Seo-rin, who had already sipped on wine, every breath she took felt filled with excitement. ‘Hm?’ Besides their own costumes, there were plenty of others donned by people around them. A few caught Seo-rin’s eye. ‘There are more people than I thought wearing witch hats and robes like mine. Hmm, is this common?’ It wasn’t entirely strange, considering that witches were classics at the carnival. ‘However… their outfits look eerily similar to mine. Strangely familiar.’ While distracted, she bumped shoulders with a traveler. Seo-rin quickly removed her mask to make eye contact. “Sorry.” “Oh no, it’s me who should apologize.” The other person also removed their mask. “Ah?” In that moment, a strong feeling of déjà vu overcame Seo-rin. The stranger also wore a witch costume similar to hers... and their face was all too familiar. "Have a good evening!" Yet, the person didn't seem to recognize Seo-rin, bowing their head slightly before walking away. They weren't alone, either. The stranger had a companion traveling with them, and they, too, were dressed as a witch. Seo-rin silently watched the figures disappear. "Did you just realize?" the Undertaker remarked, grinning with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Realize what?" "The people you bumped into just now. Didn’t they seem familiar?" "Yeah, they did… But I'm not sure. Were they Koreans? Who were they?" "Oh dear. Forgetting your former subordinates. It seems the Great Witch of the Samcheon Worlds has fallen." "…What?" "They're your guild members," he said with a faint smile. "The witches of the Samcheon Worlds. They once raced across the skies with you and were comrades in saving this world." "……." "Though the protagonists who prevented the catastrophe were the Regression Alliance, we remember their courage too. I've been anonymously supporting them without telling you." "Oh." "Of course, they probably have forgotten about us. Since they haven’t been deeply influenced by their subconscious memories or opened a time capsule like you or me. That’s why they didn’t recognize you." At that moment. Seo-rin stood still and surveyed the square. There were so many people, and among them, numerous 'witches' mingled with the crowd. Some were alone. Others in pairs. And others still in groups. Just like in the now dreamy, distant past, in a square of a utopia that no one remembers anymore. "The only condition I set as an anonymous benefactor was this: every year at this time, they are to come to Venice's carnival, wearing the attire we’ve prepared and staying at the accommodations we've arranged." "……." "In exchange for living without financial worries for life, that’s not a bad condition, right?" Seo-rin realized. That the reason Yu Ji-won and the other members hadn't arrived with the yacht in Venice today was no coincidence. Supporting the witches of the Samcheon Worlds. Preparing accommodations and costumes. Sending invitations. And matching her arrival on this day in this city all seemed orchestrated. Perhaps long before she even asked for time alone, the Undertaker had begun planning for this day. A dream of a festival existing only for this one night. ‘…I've forgotten something.’ No one could remember that those in the witch costumes now roaming fought against the void's malice. Not even those witches themselves. ‘Forgetting is such a sad thing.’ How one lived. How one died. What wishes were made gazing at the night sky. How fervent those wishes were. Nothing was left behind. ‘But… I think it’s okay not to know.’ Fireworks burst in the night sky, briefly casting shadows beside her face and then fading away. Forgetting was still sorrowful. Yet, if such forgetting meant scattering forgotten memories across a festival-breathed night sky… She could accept it. "Undertaker." She was a person who loved. Every rash love healed scars, nurturing a red flower in the heart with the blood she'd shed. Though she could not love the wounds, she could love the flowers, and so, she accepted the wounds too. “Yes.” In that way, she could forever sing of the petals that had too rashly withered. Without hatred or disdain. Neither this world hating humanity nor humanity hating the world. "I will love you—for eternity." Just tales of a certain red petal. -I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories To Tell. End. --- Ah, It's over... ---