Font Size
15px

Tick—

The ti had co.

Finally, the mont had ripened to entertain you all with a question—one single question that I’ve been endlessly hiding throughout this entire tale.

Who is the “I” in this story?

You have continued to regard “” as the Undertaker. Naturally so, since the protagonist had always been the Undertaker.

But at the sa ti, you know. The one who polished the Undertaker’s story into sentences and released it to the world was none other than Oh Dok Seo.

Script: Undertaker (葬儀師)

Editing: Oh Dok Seo (吳讀書)

If the agreent made between and Oh Dok Seo had truly been carried out, then the roles we each took would already have been revealed in the novel’s introduction.

In this tale, “I” was the Undertaker.

And at the sa ti, I was Oh Dok Seo.

All stories are imitations of dreams. The act of dreaming another’s dream through the form of a book.

Just as I am now dreaming Go Yuri’s dream, Oh Dok Seo was peeking into the dream of , the regressor.

“Dok Seo.”

“…? What’s with the sudden tone?”

“There’s sothing I must tell you now.”

I firmly grasped Oh Dok Seo’s hands.

She flinched, startled. Living through Go Yuri’s reincarnation, I was now the daughter of a noble European house.

But I cast aside this life’s tone. I cast aside its expression. For the first ti, I completely ignored the rule that I had so strictly followed—to live faithfully as Go Yuri’s reincarnation.

“H-huh?”

“You won’t understand now. But soday, you will surely read my diary—written in the form of a novel.”

“I already read tha—”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“My ti living as your sibling was, from my perspective, a brief flicker—barely a spark in eternity. I will share hundreds of lives with you, and spend billions more without you.”

“……”

“I am living now to comfort one lonely person.”

I told her a story.

It was a long one. But I knew Oh Dok Seo well, and I knew how to prepare a story in the form she could consu.

Weeks passed before Oh Dok Seo devoured every word, suffered a kind of indigestion, and barely opened her lips.

“What… is it you want from ?”

“I am dissecting Go Yuri, carving away only her humanity from the vast monstrosity she has beco.”

Separation. Isolation.

It was, fundantally, the sa tactic Go Yuri herself once used against the Outer Gods.

“I’m sorry, but I think I must entrust you with the sa task.”

“……”

“There is no longer any need for a monster called the Undertaker to exist in this world.”

I said,

“He has grown too vast. Even before, with every step he took, hundreds of regressions coexisted within him. Now, billions of reincarnations have mixed in. Humanity has co too far to treat him as a re human any longer.”

“So then?”

“Leave behind only the traces of the Undertaker’s life as a human in this world.”

That was my end.

“Go Yuri gave herself to . I, too, will give myself to you.”

“……”

“Rember the Undertaker simply as a human being. A slightly strong-willed man with a sharp mory, who liked old classics like The Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Rember as that strange old man.”

Yes.

The act of dictating each part of the story, stamping human (者) into every subtitle, was itself the process of sealing the Undertaker—a regressor—within the fra of humanity.

A desperate effort for soone who could at any mont fall into monstrosity to be rembered as a man.

“How you choose to describe … your evaluation of … I leave entirely to you.”

“To …?”

“Yes.”

Go Yuri once said—

For beings like us, what matters is how much of ourselves we’re willing to cast away.

Monsters abandon nothing.

They impose themselves upon the world. They crush even the laws of the universe under their own decrees. Monsters are beings that forever cry, I, I, I.

Therefore, the way not to beco a monster is simple.

It is to hand over the understanding of oneself to others, not to monopolize it alone.

The Mastermind ceased being a monster the mont it began to be called Cheon Hwa. Go Yuri transcended her own na and entrusted her entire life to .

“It might sound strange right now… but you are actually my priestess.”

I smiled and patted Oh Dok Seo’s shoulder.

“Gods exist to lose—to their priestesses.”

“……”

And thus, the outline of the plan for how to seal myself after isolating Go Yuri took form.

Of course, there was a preliminary condition—

The Night Goddes Nut, Hecate.

The ultimate kill-stealer, always lurking to snatch the al after everything was prepared.

“That one must be subdued and forced into surrender. Only then can I ensure she won’t ddle with your sealing process.”

Fortunately, subduing Man-sang Yu-hee was sothing “the future Undertaker” and “the past ” had already done.

A ti repeating itself endlessly.

Everything was inevitable.

“This route we’ve reached—Go Yuri must have planned it even before my first regression began.”

A two-person, three-legged walk.

“And now… I must ensure that the prologue of the novel Oh Dok Seo will one day read starts not with Go Yuri—but with the Undertaker’s story.”

It was easy.

“As long as Man-sang Yu-hee perceives the Undertaker as a more dangerous variable than Go Yuri, that’s enough.”

In other words,

“Once all the schedules are adjusted and the main route begins—Go Yuri will refrain from directly interfering with the world’s destruction.”

A kind of camouflage.

See? I’m not really dangerous—.

Well, I am dangerous, but as long as you don’t touch , I won’t act rashly—.

But if you do touch , I’ll scold you! Got it?

Naturally, Man-sang Yu-hee’s attention would turn from the reincarnator to the regressor.

It was smarter to eliminate the imdiate thorn—the regressor—than to deal with a reincarnator with no intention of moving.

“Heh.”

A laugh escaped .

“That’s exactly the position Go Yuri always had, isn’t it.”

The reason Go Yuri reacted so sharply to the Leviathan’s landing, too, beca clear when I considered her grand strategy.

“I, the Undertaker, must soday abandon my aura and find my own thod of survival.”

“But the 664th regression is too soon. At that point, the Undertaker still lacks the experience to make that decision.”

“Until enough experience is gained, depending on aura is inevitable.”

This was Go Yuri’s ‘Regressor Maker.’

Regressor cultivation needed to proceed step by step.

Realizing the truth of the Leviathan too early would be troubleso; realizing it too late would also be disastrous.

“For the sake of one person—”

I t my next lives.

“To co this far with sincerity.”

I lived all lives, and I watched all lives.

I kept silent as a throat moaning from the deepest pits, and I spoke with command from the highest spires.

I lived as a beggar, leaning against a roadside ditch, surviving on a single bowl. For one without legs, the ditch’s depth was a valley.

I stretched out my hand toward tourists on dust-choked streets.

All lives were pitiful before destruction.

“The reincarnator was not rely soone who wept.”

In every life, I held the hands that rose like prayers.

“Humanity is strong.”

I saw flowers blooming from the ditch. Their petals remained red even beneath dust.

“Look. Even when Outer Gods mock the world and wreak havoc, among humans, one reincarnator and one regressor have walked this far.”

Let’s go.

“Dok Seo. You’ll think it’s sad.”

Let’s keep walking.

“It saddens too—to think I’m passing all these stories and regrets onto you.”

The Cheon Hwa twins were born.

I was their mother’s childhood friend. Their mother died young, asking before she passed to take care of her daughters.

Those girls would later fall prey to Outer Gods and slaughter countless people.

Yet, the children smiling before now would one day love a man—and eventually accept the world that man existed in.

“But you, my dear, are strong.”

Dang Seo Rin was born.

The human who once possessed her body had died. Yet the alien god inheriting her mories accepted her humanity—without even realizing she was a god.

She would one day sing lullabies to soothe other monsters, walking beside a man.

“Do not crumble in sorrow.”

Yu Ji-won did not die.

Originally, on a sumr day of torrential rain, Yu Ji-won murdered her parents and her senile grandmother before ending her own life.

She had courage. The courage to treat all beings as insects—and the courage to treat herself as one too.

I had once been born as Yu Ji-won’s younger sibling, and back then, she secretly strangled the infant while her parents looked away.

Because there was no need to add one more to this hell.

“It’s okay to forget everything. That can be an ending too. But if you cannot forget—if you cannot forgive—then beco strong.”

To prevent Yu Ji-won’s suicide, soone else’s breath was needed beneath the rainy night sky.

“Beco rich enough in spirit to remain yourself, even after giving yourself away.”

I saw the path.

Along this route lay Dang Seo Rin, the lives that perished so she could exist, Jung Ye-ji, the souls sacrificed so Ye-ji could form, Noh Doha, Cheon Hwa, Yu Ji-won, Lee Ha-yul, Shim Ah-ryun, Yu Ji-won again—and countless others.

“……”

Go Yuri turned back as she walked.

She smiled brightly.

And so did I.

“What I wish to leave you with isn’t sorrow—but the strength to keep walking, even after reading all these wounds.”

Go Yuri believed in .

I believed in Oh Dok Seo.

And then—

“Bbb—Bbb-bbb-bbb—Blehh—”

Now, it was ti for to believe in myself.

“Huh? Huh? You smiled! You smiled!”

Tick.

Looking up at “,” who gazed down at “,” newly born as my own younger brother—

I parted my soft lips.

Hình dạng

8

Yes, Undertaker.

Welco. We et again.

Though “nice to et you” will always remain a possible greeting for you now.

I will soon be erased from this world.

It’s what you once wished for most dearly, so please, be happy.

Ah—no, I’m joking! Just joking.

I lived a strange life.

I lived.

Before you entered my dream—well, no, before I tripped you into it. It was my way of hiding embarrassnt, so please forgive .

Anyway—

Before you entered, you asked .

Why didn’t I save Schopenhauer?

I’m sorry.

It was intentional.

Of course, everything that happened was the result of my choice.

You were the perfect candidate, Undertaker.

I was certain I had finally found my priestess, made solely for .

…But humans cannot always be strong.

Even your beloved Kafka said—Alexander could march forward only because there stood before him a wall of India, sothing for his sword to point toward.

When unseen, one does not aim.

One gives up.

Humans have that sad nature—if the goal isn’t vivid before their eyes, they often won’t even try.

So I created a signpost for you, nad “Schopenhauer.”

From now on—from billions of years ago—you, Undertaker, from this mont of eting , were destined to walk the long path of the regressor.

It will be hard.

It will be sad.

But if the goal stands before you—then you have the strength not to give up.

Yes.

The corpse of Schopenhauer, who just took his own life because you couldn’t save him—

that is the signpost I gifted you.

A mark you can never ignore—

a reminder of why you began this path, and what must await at its end.

Emt Schopenhauer.

Please, soday, save my father.

You’ll probably call it cruel, unfair. I’ll accept that.

In return, I will be destroyed by your hand.

Dyed in the red bloom of the Udumbara.

If needed, through the seal of ti I made for you.

I will vanish. Leaving behind billions of family mbers here, and disappearing with the deleted souls from billions of routes.

Only you, in this world, will rember .

And to walk this path, to pierce through the emptiness left in your heart—only one condition is required.

Love —

desperately.

And then, forget .

Love others besides .

Forget that you ever loved . Forget that I ever loved you.

Forget the wounds I gave you, and those you gave . Forget that you forgot.

And live on.

…There will be side effects, of course.

The world spared from destruction will find it a little harder… to rember what is precious.

mories will grow unstable.

It will beco harder to truly see soone.

Of course—because the “I” that once was has left holes in people’s hearts.

But if that is the only price to pay—

If this is all it takes to avert such an absurd apocalypse—

then I will gladly bear it.

I have been terribly rude.

Please understand—this was the best I could do,

for a child who one day died, then awoke only to find herself living another life.

I love you.

Mother. Father. Everyone.

Did I do well?

Did I choose the right person?

I loved you.

I gave up much. I lived a life that forced to give up much. Yet, to the very end, there was one thing I refused to abandon.

That even in a world like this,

I am glad to have been born.

And from the depths of my heart—

I am truly grateful.

Farewell.

.

.

.

.

.

Tick—

June 24th, 12:00.

The regressor encounters “Hecate” Dang Seo Rin at the Busan crossroads.

Mass refugee flow toward Busan nationwide.

Worldwide daily death toll: 51,956,792.

June 22nd, 14:20.

The regressor reunites with Yu Ji-won at a Seoul rest stop.

Korean army’s main force annihilated by the Decapods.

Worldwide daily death toll: 124,956,792.

June 21st, 13:00.

The regressor ets prosthetics technician Noh Doha at the National Rehabilitation Hospital while evacuating patients from attackers.

Worldwide daily death toll: 319,956,792.

June 18th, 20:00.

The regressor enters Baekhwa Girls’ High School tutorial dungeon. Encounters Cheon Hwa amid the distorted tiline of the Infinite Void.

Worldwide daily death toll: 771,221,328.

June 17th, 16:00.

The regressor makes contact with the one known as “Saintess.” The Regressor Alliance is ford.

June 17th, 14:10.

Emt Schopenhauer dies in a Busan café.

June 17th, 14:00.

A massive White Night of the Void occurs south of the Han River, Seoul.

June 17th, 14:00.

Simultaneous global appearance of small-scale Voids—so-called “Tutorial Dungeons.”

Worldwide daily death toll: 1,649,857,026.

June 17th, 13:59.

Regressor, regression.

.

.

.

.

.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

.

.

.

.

.

Tick—

.

.

.

.

.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

May 07th, 17:11. Oh Dok Seo, death.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

May 07th, 19:20. Oh Dok Seo, death.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

May 08th, 04:44. Oh Dok Seo, death.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

May 08th, 04:44. Oh Dok Seo, death.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

May 08th, 04:44. Oh Dok Seo, death.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

May 08th, 13:10. Oh Dok Seo, death.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

May 09th, 08:36. Oh Dok Seo, death.

.

.

.

.

.

April 29th, 16:00.

Oh Dok Seo, awakening.

.

.

.

.

.

June 17th, 13:59.

Regressor, regression.

-Regressor. End.

You are reading I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell Chapter 418 on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
Share with your friends
Library saves books to your account. Reading History saves recent chapters in this browser.
Continuous reading

You may also like

No reviews yet. Be the first reader to leave one.
Please create an account or sign in to post a comment.