I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell - Chapter 346

Chapter 346

The Inviter III

“I can’t walk along the same rails with you, but at least for as long as I live, my lifespan will follow you at the same pace.”

“We can’t walk together in life, but in death, we do. We are companions, you and I.”

“From now on, I’m counting on you, my companion in time.”

In the 10th cycle, Dang Seo-rin died.

Even now, when I close my eyes, it all comes back to me vividly as if it happened only moments ago.

She lay in a white bed and passed away as lightly as if she’d just nodded off for a moment.

“My condolences.”

“It must have been devastating for you. My deepest sympathies.”

Mourners gathered in crowds.

At the time, Dang Seo-rin was the great hero who led the subjugation of the Ten Legs. She was the leader of the Korean Awakener Alliance. The event was practically on the scale of a national funeral—countless people came to pay their respects.

“M-my— My deepest condolences…”

Sim Ah-ryeon was among them.

Since even Ah-ryeon herself had not yet realized her true ability at that point, I saw her as just a run-of-the-mill healer.

“Thank you for coming.”

There was no particular sense of connection between us either. A superficial connection, sure, in that we had both cleared the same tutorial dungeon, but nothing more than that.

Ah-ryeon fidgeted, trying her hardest to muster social grace that was foreign to her, and managed an awkward bow.

“N-No, it’s just… I… truly offer my condolences.”

“Thank you.”

On that day in the 10th cycle, I decided to remember each and every one of the thousands of people who came to pay their respects at Seo-rin’s funeral.

Later, even all the way in the 50th cycle when the so-called OldManGoryeo Villain was causing chaos in every which way, I was willing to hear out Ah-ryeon’s excuses after learning she was that villain. That was the reason why.

By now, no one else remembers, but those who braved the roads of the apocalypse, risking their lives on the treacherous path just to make it to the funeral hall, met with threats in every direction—I never once forgot their faces or their names.

Because Seo-rin had no family, I served as the chief mourner. Oddly enough, not one member of the Samcheon World Guild under her command objected. They merely clung to my sleeves and sobbed.

“M-Mr. Undertaker, what are we supposed to do now? Our guild leader, Dang Seo-rin… What do we do…?”

I looked after them.

No matter which cycle it was, there were always only two possible ends for Dang Seo-rin:

Dying in battle. Meeting a foe too powerful for humanity to face at that time and throwing herself against it before anyone else on the front lines.

Or dying together. Because I refused to leave you like that, I’d drag you all the way to the farthest rear line so we could perish at the same instant.

“Undertaker.”

In either case, I kept my promise to you.

“There’s just one favor I want to ask, if that’s okay?”

“No matter what happens, okay? If you can.”

“Don’t die before me.”

She had personally buried her parents and siblings in the cycle, so the thought of me showing up to her as a corpse terrified her.

“You can promise me that, right?”

That was our promise.

As with most encounters, mine and Dang Seo-rin’s first meeting happened at an intersection. It was more an “encounter” than a formal introduction, though.

“Ah. Hello… Wait, that’s right. We decided to drop the formality last time, didn’t we?”

“No, see, I’m the type who’s super shy around new people, so dropping formal speech is kinda tough for me.”

“Eh?”

“Ms. Dang Seo-rin, my heart’s pounding out of my chest. Could we put the casual speech off a little longer?”

“Pfft. Oh, whatever.”

The second meeting was different.

That was a proper get-together.

You and I, after drinking coffee on June 24, agreed to meet again four days later at noon under a willow tree. So on the afternoon of June 28, there we were.

Seo-rin laughed. “You’re not even surprised by this?”

“No, believe me, I’m pretty shocked.”

The so-called “startle point” she was referring to was her outfit. When she’d lost her way on the crosswalk, she’d been wearing everyday clothes, but now she was decked out in the well-known “witch’s attire.”

Even in those early days, Seo-rin was running Samcheon World. The guild’s numbers hadn’t even hit double digits yet.

“So, I may or may not be questioning if I’m dealing with someone who’s totally off their rocker.”

“Lies. You don’t look shocked at all.”

“My mental minus is canceled out by your external plus. You’re proof that the finishing touch to fashion is the face.”

Amused by my brazen remark, Seo-rin burst out laughing. Then with narrowed eyes, she looked me up and down.

“Hey, Undertaker. Let’s be honest. You… must’ve dated a ton, right?”

“No comment.”

“Aww, come on. Tell me, I love hearing about romance stories.”

“Hmm.”

Here’s a little regressor tip:

Q: They keep asking if you’ve had a lot of relationships. How should you respond?

Answering “No, this is my first time” is the worst move. It’s tough to keep the conversation going, and there’s no guarantee they’ll believe you. Not to mention, there’s also a good chance the same subject will come up again. Plus, you risk seeming overly serious. No good.

Answering “Just the usual amount, same as anyone else” is mediocre. Not terrible but not great. It’s okay if you’re ready to change the subject quickly. A good way is to shift attention to something the other person has dressed up for or cares about.

So what’s the best move? According to Sun Tzu’s Art of War: “The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”

In other words, winning without fighting is ideal.

“Okay. In that case, I’ll give you two choices.”

“Two choices?”

A true strategist expects in advance that such a question might arise—and comes prepared.

“Choice One: I’ll answer the question you just asked. Then we’ll head off to one of the few still-open restaurants in Busan for a nice lunch.”

“Huh. That sounds good. What’s Choice Two?”

I held up a picnic basket. “Instead of answering, we skip straight to these homemade sandwiches I prepared this morning and eat them together over on that bench. Paired with Earl Grey milk bubble tea I brought in this thermos.”

You can probably guess which option she chose when faced with this visual-novel-style decision.

Shortly thereafter, Seo-rin put the thermos down with a deeply philosophical expression.

“What on earth were the sandwiches I’ve eaten all my life until now…?”

“I’m glad it suits your taste.”

“The word ‘delicious’ doesn’t cut it. It was sheer bliss… I mean, seriously. What’s with the bacon? How does bacon even taste like that?”

“Mm.”

Now, now! You too can achieve it! 

Th𝚤𝑠 𝗰h𝗮p†𝙚r 𝐢𝖘 p𝑜𝕤𝖙𝓮𝕕 b𝑦 𝗞𝚤ṯ𝖾𝐧ɵ𝖛𝖾𝓁

☆The strongest chef in the human world☆ 

Just casually regress for a few thousand years starting now!

Note: Regression ability is non-refundable.

I swallowed that unspoken joke, giving her a soft smile.

“Shall we walk a bit, now that we’re full?”

“Oh, sure. Sounds good!”

It was summer, but the clouds visited frequently and the breeze kept knocking, as if we were in the windy corridors of New York. Busan’s wind was pleasant that day.

Perhaps eight-tenths of what fosters a poet is the wind, and likewise, eight-tenths of what swells the conversation while strolling is also the wind.

“So, I was thinking there should be a specialized board on Constellation Net for guides or tip posts that everyone, not just our guild, can reference.”

“That’s a good idea. What did the Constellation say?”

“Nothing yet. I’m going to talk more with you about it today and then suggest it to the Constellation in earnest.”

We never ran out of topics. After all, from that crosswalk meeting onward, Seo-rin saw me as someone with “extraordinarily unique yet extensive knowledge” about Anomalies.

We shared an interest in Anomalies. We also shared an anger toward Anomalies.

From Seo-rin’s perspective, I must have seemed to her a fellow traveler in “losing one’s family.” That was the condition for being summoned to that crosswalk, after all.

“Ohh, that’s a really great idea!”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Heh heh. You’re pretty smart, Undertaker. Why don’t you and I go around wiping out these Anomalies together?”

She seemed all lively on the surface, but at the time, her soul was still shredded by the grief of losing her family.

In a certain past cycle, the Saintess had told me something in private.

[When you aren’t around, she never laughs, Mr. Undertaker. Not even once.]

[She treats me, a Constellation, with this stiff, businesslike attitude.]

Right now, Seo-rin was desperate. If she were left alone, at any moment, she might feel the urge to kill herself or else the urge to wipe every one of those damn Anomalies off the face of the earth.

She battled that double-edged deluge, suicidal despair on one side, murderous rage on the other, fighting tooth and nail to maintain her original nature.

To remain the person who had once loved to laugh.

Who had once loved people.

She fought desperately for herself.

Under those circumstances, the arrival of “Undertaker” was an urgently needed refuge.

She wasn’t sure why, but being around this man, she could briefly forget her loss.

She could laugh naturally.

She could stay human.

“So what do you say?”

“Wanna join my guild?”

Just as you did when you gave me that invitation, I silently promised that in this June summer, I would always stay by your side.

I never forgot it, not even once.

We simply needed each other to remain human and survive.

“Let’s stop by there for a second.”

“Huh? Where…?”

She froze.

We were strolling through a park when I pointed it out, and Seo-rin’s shoulders flinched.

The botanical garden. A pathway leading to a village of trees and flowers, both outdoors and indoors.

“…Ah. Ah— Aha! So that’s a greenhouse.”

For the first time, Seo-rin stammered. Though I knew perfectly well why, I cocked my head.

“Hmm? You don’t like flowers?”

“No… that’s not it. I do like flowers.”

She had no choice but to like them.

Her family used to run a flower shop. It had been big enough to be called a full-on nursery. They had three large greenhouses, growing all sorts of flowers and trees. Locals who loved flowers always purchased from the Dang family business, and there was always a truck out front delivering heavy pots and fertilizer.

Seo-rin and her younger siblings also helped out with their parents’ work. Seo-rin was particularly quick at math and good at greeting customers with a smile, so she was a great asset to her family’s business.

Until the greenhouse plants turned monstrous and slaughtered her family, Dang Seo-rin loved flowers.

“Then great. Let’s take a look.”

“…Ah.”

But our relationship was not deep enough for her to confess to her trauma yet.

A swirl of emotions kept her from wanting to appear weak: her family’s screams, confusion about how to talk about it, the images of her siblings’ corpses entwined in vines, plus the wish not to break the pleasant mood of this breezy day, the nausea, the self-reproach for being so shaken by mere flowers, and so on.

All those feelings overlapped as she followed me.

She didn’t even realize I was holding her hand, guiding her along. Too many colors of emotion, more than a human heart could handle at once, had taken over.

“…Ah…”

As we neared the flower garden, the trembling in her hand grew stronger, her breathing shallow.

I could have asked if she was okay, but I didn’t. I knew all too well she wasn’t.

Rather than ask if she was all right, I wanted to help her feel all right.

“Dang Seo-rin. Look carefully.”

She’d been hanging her head, but now she slowly lifted it. She blinked, then seeing the scene before her, her eyes went wide.

“This is…”

“Amazingly strange, right?”

I felt her trembling hand and labored breaths ease all at once.

It was no wonder, really. Here in this greenhouse, all the trees and flowers were “withered.” Anemones that had once been red were now shriveled petals of rotting-wine hue. Campanulas with closed buds resembled dark tea leaves, like pu’er tea.

Not a single petal was in bloom. Only debris lay scattered on the ground like trash.

The scent of them remained only in traces.

“I personally call this place the ‘Garden of Fallen Flowers.’”

“The Garden of Fallen Flowers…”

“Guess it’s under the influence of some Anomaly. In other gardens, you still see flowers in bloom, but here… they only ever wilt.”

And right now, it was the only garden in this world that you could bear to love.