NOVEL WEB Chapter 296
Discord: https://dsc.gg/reapercomics
◈ I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell
──────
The Exile VII
After safely escorting the students to Busan and spending around two months juggling a hectic schedule, I finally managed to arrange to meet with Ji-soo personally.
It wasn’t in any way a date. If it had been one, I would never in my life have committed the atrocity of bringing Dok-seo along as a third wheel.
An awkward silence sucked air from the room.
“So, uh... This person is...?”
“Call me Dok-seo,” said the otaku, wearing a baseball cap tipped low over her face. “But don’t pay me any mind. I’m more of a—ehhh—let’s it “bystander.” I consider silence a virtue. If one wishes to stand at the forefront of the stage, it’s not yet the season of harvest. The autumn breeze... It is still faint.”
“You really don’t need to concern yourself with this kid, Ji-soo,” I quickly interjected, seeing Ji-soo’s expression grow increasingly grim. “I just brought her along because she’s a very useful Awakener. Now, please, hear me out.”“Oh. Alright, then.”
An hour passed.
It was enough time to reveal that I was a regressor and to explain the incidents that had occurred in the previous cycle. Ji-soo carefully chose her words when responding.
“So what you’re saying is... Beneath the surface of this country’s secret organizations, there are extensive facilities used to abduct and torture orphans. And I was captured there, subjected to those methods, and forcibly turned into an Awakener with supernatural abilities?”
“That’s right.”
“I see...” she mused calmly while her expression screamed, What the hell?
It was to be expected, really. If someone told you that a psychopath had imprisoned your past self, your soul had been crushed to the point of no return, and you ultimately took your own life—that brutal, fairytale ending—it would be hard to accept, wouldn’t it?
“I... Well, I can understand up to the part where you said my past self went through some terrible misfortunes in the previous cycle.”
Even so, Ji-soo made every effort to remain polite toward me. I had saved her and her upperclassmates at school from near death and guided them safely to Busan, after all. She hadn’t forgotten that debt of gratitude.
Ji-soo’s jet-black eyes gleamed as she said, “But even if that’s true, wouldn’t it be best to sever ties with that piece of human trash? I should focus on living a happy life for myself.”
A surprisingly reasonable opinion!
“The part I find most incomprehensible is the decision my past self made. To do it in the name of vengeance against that psychopath is one thing—and yes, revenge is fine—but why choose a path that makes me miserable?”
It was a valid point. Ji-soo of the 704th cycle, who hadn’t experienced the horrors of the Misfortune Workshop, possessed an entirely rational way of thinking. If she went to a psychological counseling center and took the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI-2),[1] the doctor would probably say, “You have a completely healthy mind! Just watch your caffeine intake. We don’t treat normal people like you here, so please leave!”
For reference, Ji-won would also be told to leave, but for the opposite reason where the doctor might scream, “Eek! Get this monster out of our hospital!”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t inherit the will of my past self. Nor do I want to. While I appreciate your efforts, Undertaker...”
“No. That’s the normal response.”
“Right...”
In many ways, her reaction was the complete opposite of Ji-won’s, I realized. With that silver-haired psychopath, there existed a secret keyword—a single magical phrase capable of instantly convincing her of any bizarre phenomenon.
“I know that in the summer of your 14th year, when you were in middle school, you dismembered your family and dumped them in the Minari Pond at Mount Dobong.”
That single sentence was enough to convince Ji-won of the reality that a regressor was standing before her, acting as a courier who delivered her final will to the next cycle. She even went above and beyond, synchronizing her past self with her present self, much like a player inheriting a save file.
But most people didn’t think that way. Even if they had endured hell itself, even if they had incinerated their souls with hatred for another, conveying that feeling to their future self was impossible.
At times, the distance between oneself and one’s self was greater than the distance between two strangers. Kim Ji-soo understood this well.
“That’s why I plan to try something a little unusual today.”
This was something the Ji-soo from the 703rd cycle had already anticipated.
“What do you mean?” the Ji-soo standing before me asked.
“As I said, your past self wanted, in some way, to ensure her hatred was conveyed to the next cycle. But she also knew that just explaining everything wouldn’t suddenly make you go, ‘Ah, yes, I’ll live a life consumed by rage now.’ This might sound like a compliment, but the Ji-soo from the 703rd cycle was quite clever.”
Ji-soo visibly stiffened.
There was a subtle discomfort in her demeanor. However little emotion her face conveyed, she seemed to have sensed an underlying unease.
Not feeling the need to correct her assumption, I turned and looked down to Dok-seo where she sat beside me. “Are you ready?”
Dok-seo nodded. “Of course. I’ve been ready for this moment for 12,000 years.”
Ji-soo tilted her head in confusion, her gaze flicking between us.
At that moment, a faint melody began to fill the air of the café, which had been quiet despite being fully seated.
Having spent nearly two months in Busan, Ji-soo had been sufficiently educated on the fact that Anomalies could appear anywhere, anytime. She instinctively scanned her surroundings.
“Is it an Anomaly?”
“No. Don’t worry, it’s just a song I asked an Awakener I know to play. It’s not your average tune, though,” I added, chuckling wryly. “Ji-soo, could you close your eyes for a moment?”
“Well... Alright.”
The melody gradually swelled. What began as a monotonous hum, simple like running tap water, slowly grew in volume and richness.
“Ah.”
Although her eyes remained closed, Ji-soo’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.
By this point, she must have realized what the song was. It was Busan’s famed specialty, Seo-rin’s Cursed Song Incantation. For the general public, hearing this melody was a rare luxury, afforded once a month over radio waves. Now, it resonated in this café, played for the sake of one person.
No, perhaps it was composed for two.
Repetition, Target Designation, Illusion, Modulation—these four verses formed a harmonious melody, encircling the space around us.
Soon, the speaker volume decreased, and the song transitioned into a soft, looping background track.
“You can open your eyes now.”
Ji-soo’s jet-black eyes opened. “Ah?”
A flicker of starlight trembled within them as the sunlight streaming through the window cast its glow, creating faint silhouettes of objects, softening the clarity of shapes in her gaze. Within her eyes rested the reflection of Dok-seo sitting beside me.
“Greetings.”
However, the face reflected in Ji-soo’s eyes was not Dok-seo’s. Even the voice layered over the Cursed Song Incantation’s background melody was not Dok-seo’s.
“The 704th cycle me.”
Dok-seo’s eyes, gleaming with a deep, swamp-like green hue, looked at her.
“Perhaps it’s more fitting to say, ‘It’s nice to meet you.’ I am the 703rd cycle’s you.”
Ji-soo from this cycle froze, inhaling sharply.
“I am Ji-soo.”
Now, the performance began.
https://dsc.gg/reapercomics
In the forest where Ji-won had departed and disappeared, a conversation between two people had taken place.
Q: Think it over. For the Ji-soo of the next cycle, it would mean having their life direction determined by someone who lived an entirely different path. Would your next self truly accept that?
A: If she doesn’t, then that’s where it ends. My grudge. My pain. My wounds. This blazing heart of mine... would simply amount to something that could not surpass a single lifetime.
When I had posed the question in another life, that was how the Ji-soo from the 703rd cycle answered, by acknowledging the possibility that her hatred might fail to reach her next self.
A: But... there’s a way.
Armed with that knowledge, Ji-soo began to devise a plan.
She did not believe in sentimental notions like “a strong will transcends cycles” or “resolve can be inherited across time.” Even at the peak of her rage-consumed life, she remained a rational strategist.
Just like her godmother.
Q: A way?
A: Yes. My godmother often told us stories about you, Undertaker. Among those tales, she mentioned that you possessed Complete Memory.
Q: And if that’s true?
The Ji-soo of the 703rd cycle took a deep breath and stared directly at me.
A: Then please... act as me.
Q: What?
A: The Ji-soo of the next cycle won’t be able to empathize with me just by hearing words alone. That’s why... there must be direct communication.
A: I’m not a regressor like you, Undertaker. I can’t perform the miracle of conversing with my next self.
A: But... through you...
A: It might be possible to deliver my message.
Q: ...
A: I will preemptively answer every question that the Ji-soo of the next cycle might ask me. All of their doubts. All of their countless uncertainties.
A: My answers. My expressions. My voice.
A: My emotions.
A: ...Everything about me.
A: Please remember it all, Undertaker. Then recreate it, and convey it to the next Ji-soo.
Q: ...
A: Ha-yul sunbae has the ability to manipulate puppets. If they craft a puppet resembling me, and you and Lee sunbae work together to control it, you’ll be able to replicate my appearance.
Q: No. That’s a valid method, but there’s an even better solution.
A: What is it?
Dok-seo.
A child who had been part of the 703rd Punishment Unit with us, and more recently, a colleague who had Awakened the ability called Side Story Creation.
Q: Dok-seo has the power to perfectly embody the existence of a past cycle.
Using Side Story Creation, Dok-seo had previously acted as a long-forgotten Saintess and even reenacted the fury of a glacial era. The ability was limited to recreating people I had personally encountered and remembered, but with my Complete Memory, I could recall every detail of their actions and behavior. Based on my data, Dok-seo’s acting achieved a resolution so vivid that it verged on reality.
I myself had once been so engrossed in her Side Story that I got scolded by the Saintess for acting like an internet-addicted shut-in.
Of course, everything in life has its pros and cons. Dok-seo’s ability could also be used to save someone.
I came to this obvious realization while speaking with the Ji-soo of the 703rd cycle.
Q: I’ll combine that with Seo-rin’s Cursed Song Incantation. Since Dok-seo’s acting doesn’t extend to mimicking appearances or voices, I’ll ask Seo-rin to implement Vocal Modulation and Illusion techniques into the song. That will handle those gaps.
A: ...That’s impressive.
Q: Then let’s begin.
A: Yes.
Q: Time for a Q&A session.
An age-old question arose here.
Could emotions be conveyed? Could willpower be inherited?
The human heart could not directly connect to another while willpower lacked substance and could not leap across the chasm between cycles.
But regressors existed. And regressors had the power to remember anything.
Through my memories, the transparent wish of Seo-rin—to “someday travel the world along the railway tracks”—was passed to the next cycle’s Seo-rin.
Through my memories, the vague yet undeniable desire of Ha-yul to “become a little happier” reached the Ha-yul of the next cycle.
The same was true for Ji-soo.
One week. It happened one week after Ji-soo and I made our secret pact in the forest.
I had mentioned before that Ji-soo had taken her own life a week later. Some might have posed a certain question after hearing the story.
Q: Why did Ji-soo end her life in just one week?
However, that question was fundamentally flawed.
Ji-soo had always been on the verge of giving up her life. The moment she realized she could never harm her godmother’s heart, her urge to embrace death had simply reached its tipping point. Thus, the question should have been reframed like this:
Q: Why did Ji-soo endure for an entire week before taking her own life?
The answer was simple.
For one week, she and I secretly met every night to conduct tens of thousands of “Q&A sessions.” She imprinted herself as vividly as possible into my memory. Together, we meticulously organized every potential question her future self might ask, and the Ji-soo of the 703rd cycle answered them all.
She documented everything. She gathered every valuable piece of her life and entrusted them to me—the regressor who served as a time capsule.
And so...
“Ask me anything,” Dok-seo said, her voice steady and unwavering. “I’m ready for it all.”
After one autumn and one winter had passed, the memories Ji-soo had buried in the regressor’s mind were finally delivered.
Beside me, Dok-seo opened the time capsule.
Footnotes:
[1] The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI-2) is the most widely used psychometric test for measuring adult psychopathology in the world.