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

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◈ I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

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The Preacher IV

A chill ran down my spine.

The city was completely devoid of people—I was well aware of that fact, and yet I couldn’t help but glance around instinctively.

“Adversity and wounds create Awakeners.”

It was an abominable truth.

If the theory So-hee had just expounded were ever to leak—if it had even the slimmest chances to slither its way into the public consciousness—it would utterly shatter this already broken world.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the only other person present was Uehara, and she wasn’t fluent in Korean. She looked on in confusion, seeming to grasp less than half of So-hee’s words.

“Our God isn’t one that blesses human happiness. He is an evil god that observes our suffering! Thus, ‘Awakening’ is both a blessing and a curse from Him.”

Heedless to our reactions, So-hee grew increasingly fervent as she screamed her doctrine from atop a pile of corpses.

“In such a world, you alone, Reverend, are destined to monopolize all of God’s attention and affection!”

“Why?” I choked.

“Because you are a regressor,” So-hee proclaimed, smiling as though it were obvious. “No matter how many people were killed by the Anomaly at Busan Station, it wasn’t their fault. It was the Anomaly’s. But you, Reverend, are different.”

She tilted her head and gazed down upon me.

“You could have saved them.”

“......”

“If you had been a little stronger, a little smarter, a little faster, you could have saved them all.”

“......”

“This is your fault, Reverend.”

Rain began to fall. Uehara gasped and tried to shield my head with her coat, but it was meaningless.

“Maybe it’s impossible for you now, but you’ll grow stronger. Gradually, relentlessly. And the stronger you grow... the more responsibilities you’ll have to bear.”

The rain that was drenching me wasn’t touching my skin, it was boring straight into my chest.

“From Busan Station to Busan itself. Ah, how many people perished there! And from Busan to the Korean Peninsula. From Korea to... beyond, beyond, and beyond. And then... Then!”

The rainwater that once quenched my thirst turned into poison, corroding the edges of my heart.

“Reverend, this is your fault. Because in the next regression, you’ll choose who to save. And in the one after that, who to let die. How could anyone deny that you are the chosen of the evil god?”

“......”

“Let me ask you once more, Reverend.”

Thus spoke So-hee:

“Are you unhappy right now?”

I couldn’t answer.

Her smile was knowing and her gaze intent. It was as if she were savoring my silence.

“You’ll grow stronger, Reverend... Don’t forget me.”

Then So-hee drew a dagger from her robes and slit her own throat, bathing the rain around her in a crimson shower.

Beside me, Uehara let out a horrified scream and rushed to So-hee’s body, but it was too late.

It was instant death.

“Undertaker-san!” Uehara cried. “So-hee-chan!”

However, she wasn’t given long to wallow in her tears. The mountain of corpses, layered hundreds deep, began to writhe.

In this world, corpses left without proper rites were infected by Void poison and transformed into Anomalies. The ones that roamed by themselves were often called “zombies.” Severely damaged corpses sometimes became Anomalies that existed as mere disembodied voices, known as Knockers. However, when corpses transformed into Anomalies as a collective entity, I had a specific name for them:

- Ǘ̸̖ŗ̶̳̀̍ő̸̡̮o̴͚͌̔͜o̷̠͊̂u̶͕̫̒ù̷̳̉u̸̙̝͋ḡ̶̠̫̈́h̸̛̩̤̊!

The Hollow.

Bound by their shared affiliation with the Church of Unhappiness, the Hollow arose slowly. Hundreds of corpses became legs, hundreds more a torso, and yet another hundred formed the upper body. Atop the massive entity formed by the hundreds, a singular head emerged.

- Reverrrrreeeeend!

The surface of the Hollow, amalgamating of countless bodies, prominently displayed So-hee’s smiling face.

- Eternal Invincibility.

- Reverrrrreeeennnnd!

- Unyielding Will.

The countless mouths of the Hollow began to chant the doctrine of the Church of Unhappiness as its massive right hand reached for me.

“Undertaker-san! No!” Uehara screamed.

But I didn’t dodge. Without flinching, I looked up at the shadow of the grotesque hand sheltering me from the rain.

The stench of decayed rainwater filled the air as a great weight crushed my body in one.

That was my death.

---

There is an epilogue.

To summarize in a single paragraph: In my third cycle, I lost a dear comrade, X, in the Tutorial Dungeon, which shattered my mental state. Another comrade, So-hee, helped me recover, allowing me to clear the dungeon and build my own faction. Yet So-hee turned out to be a deranged zealot. In the end, she transformed into an Anomaly and killed me.

Q: What is the mental state of a regressor who meets such a death and enters their next cycle?

So-hee was right. I became profoundly unhappy.

As she had intended, my heart in the next cycle was filled with indomitable filth. That filth decayed, spreading an odor that clung to me in a choking stench.

Perhaps even before the collapse of Old Man Schopenhauer, I had already fallen apart long ago. When infected by the World Tree Udumbara, Awakeners lose their powers. Perhaps I, too, might have given up regression and accepted the death it offered me.

“Those eyes of yours are just dripping with poison, huh?”

However, there was one thing So-hee hadn’t accounted for.

“So you're the one, right? The lone survivor of Busan Station. You're that weirdo who goes around asking people strange questions all the time.”

The stronger and more capable I became, the wider the scope of my world grew. Consequently, the number of lives I became responsible for also increased.

"Your name?"

"...Undertaker. It's an alias."

“So, someone who buries people? Not bad. The depth of a person is measured by how many corpses they’ve buried in their heart.”

But I wasn’t alone. The determination to save others wasn’t mine alone to bear.

The wider the world became, the more people there were to help carry its fragments—something a certain priestess of an evil god could never have foreseen.

"How about it? Wanna join my guild?"

I asked for the guild’s name.

“Samcheon World.”

That was your answer.

“Samcheon for short. Someday, I’ll have three thousand Awakeners recruited as members, like the name implies.[1] I’ve made it my personal goal.”

You adjusted your witch’s hat, tapped your foot on the ground, and gave me a bright smile.

“Undertaker. Help me.”

It was her answer.

“I need your strength.”

I had long pondered a particular question: If a single person is to save the world, then who saves that person?

The answer was obvious. You just had to acknowledge that no single person stood alone.

“Vice Guild Leader, just once. Hm? Try on our pointed hat just once. I swear I have an eye for this sort of thing, and I’m convinced you’ve got the makings of a top-tier witch!”

“I absolutely refuse.”

“Really? That’s a shame.” Seo-rin pouted playfully. “But what will you do if I say no, hmm?”

“......”

“I’m the guild leader, and you’re the vice guild leader.”

My way of speaking now bore traces of Dang Seo-rin’s influence. Once stiff and formal, it had softened over time after spending so much time with her.

It was hard to remain rigid while working under a superior who cosplayed as a witch year-round and was a devout train enthusiast.

“See? It looks good on you!”

“...Fuck.”

“Ahaha! Did you just curse? Wow! I’ve never heard our vice guild leader say that before!”

“......”

“But to say such a thing to your guild leader, the Supreme Heaven herself! You must’ve developed a big head. Or is it because of that hat? It does make your head look bigger.”

“Fuuuuuck...”

“Pffft! Hahaha!”

Despite the tragedy caused by the Church of Unhappiness, the time I spent serving under Seo-rin as her vice guild leader gave me a reason to rise again.

On a flight to the Uyuni Salt Flats, I encountered the Undertakeress, a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Seo-rin.

In hindsight, it made sense. My expression, my way of smiling, even my manner of speech—all of it was shaped by Dang Seo-rin.

[Mr. Undertaker, I need your help. There’s something urgent I must consult you about.]

“What is it?”

[It’s about the passage we read together last Wednesday. I just can’t wrap my head around it.]

The Saintess’s seriousness became my seriousness.

“To mister, I am sorry. To the me of today and tomorrow, I apologize. I hereby declare a two-day hiatus. Since my break falls over a weekend, it means I’ll end up resting for four days in total. Still, I’ll only announce two days off to the readers. Could you, out of pity, write the announcement for me?”

“......”

“At least I’m sorry, unlike those authors who don’t feel any guilt at all. That makes me one of the good ones, right?”

Oh Dok-seo’s shamelessness became my shamelessness.

Both the best and the worst of me were defined by others.

By a puppeteer, controlled by her father throughout her life, who Awakened the ability to manipulate others like dolls.

By a student council president, conditioned by a cult into assuming the role of their priestess, who Awakened the ability to impose her mindset and way of behaving onto others.

By a prosthetist, unable to restore lost limbs to her patients, who Awakened the ability to animate others’ limbs.

By a... Uh. Well, what about Sim Ah-ryeon?

What wounds could she have suffered to Awaken her abilities? I couldn’t even begin to imagine. She was always beyond my comprehension, an enigma I couldn’t unravel.

My heart belonged to many.

If the Hollow wandered the world spreading death with bodies made of countless nameless corpses, then the living always survived by making ties with other survivors.

And for me, life wasn’t about “dying” but “living.”

That was my freedom.

[Lee Jae-hee: My phone's not working?]

[Uehara Shino: Too many people. Can't breathe.]

[Seo Gyu: Damn it, what the hell is this? This is fucking garbage.]

[Park Ye-dam: I need to contact my boss...]

[Lee Baek: What’s going on? Where did everyone else go?]

[Go Yuri: O̷̹͑h̴̢̞͊͂ ̴̧̌͝m̶̘̍̾y̴̢͖̿̓.̴̝̈́̍.̷̦̽͠.̶͖̈́̈]

[Jung So-hee: Reverend? Where did you go, Reverend?]

[Sim Ah-ryeon: Where am I? Who am I?]

On the notable occasion of the 700th cycle—my seventh century—I decided to approach an “old comrade” from the concourse of Busan Station for the first time in ages.

So-hee was glancing around, searching for someone—probably the “First Reverend” since I had been the second.

Some people simply couldn’t live without worshiping someone else.

“Excuse me...” I began.

“Yes? What is it?”

“May I ask you something?”

So-hee looked at me, startled.

Despite everything, how she had once tormented me to the point of death (and actually killed me), I felt nothing. No positive or negative emotions, just pure tranquility filling my chest.

“Do you think I have a talent for misfortune?”

“What?”

“It’s just a question,” I assured her. “You seem to have some divine insight or intuition.”

The bewilderment faded from So-hee’s expression as she scrutinized me with a meticulous gaze. After about ten seconds, she frowned slightly and shook her head.

“Not at all.”

“......”

“I sense no talent in you. Third-rate? No, fifth-rate. It’s been ages since I’ve encountered someone so utterly talentless. Maybe even the first time. If you’ve heard the ‘voice’ of our God, please give up.”

Without another word, she turned her back and walked away, severing all ties with me.

A former comrade and one of the original members who cleared the first Tutorial Dungeon had dismissed me outright.

“Hmm.”

I chuckled softly at the odd feeling it gave me. It wasn’t all that bad.

Undertaker—Officially designated as a fifth-rate cult leader!

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Footnotes:

[1] Samcheon means three thousand in Korean.