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 Murderer I

The eradication of the Mastermind.

Thanks to this incident, my life as a regressor saw quite a few subtle changes. If I had to choose the most representative change, well... I’d say it’s the addition of the ability to write Side Stories for Oh Dok-seo.

But today’s episode isn’t about that kind of change. Let’s focus on something more physical this time.

What’s there to hesitate about?

At last, I—no, we—could communicate with survivors beyond the Himalayas and the Ural Mountains.

---

That said, it took an enormous amount of time to establish signal fires across the globe.

Preliminary research. Charting the optimal signal fire routes. Identifying cities and villages where survivors gathered. Understanding the dispositions of each base leader. Exploring ways to seek cooperation. Building connections to establish a baseline of trust...

Though I had visited famous cities like Istanbul several times before, a simple drop by was altogether different from the enormous task of linking every single base together.

What other choice did I have? I had to embark on a world tour, bit by bit, over multiple cycles, scraping together information as I went along.

And a world tour meant—

[You called me, oppa.]

Peek.

Lee Ha-yul, the Travel Ghost, poked her head out.

She flipped through a sketchbook she had prepared in advance.

[↓↓ My Wish List ↓↓]

[The City of Love, Paris.]

[The City of Human Catapults, Prague.]

[The City of Romance, Rome.]

[The City of Water, Venice.]

[The City of Fashion, Milan.]

[The City of Gastronomy, Palermo.]

[The City of Philosophy, Athens...]

The list went on and on.

Wait a minute—weren’t there too many Italian cities on the list? Did my Ha-yul really want to visit Italy that badly?

Flip-flip.

Ha-yul kept turning the pages of her sketchbook with a seriousness that never waned.

[If this is gonna be a work of fiction like Dok-seo’s novel, then you should for sure plan a spinoff.]

[The story of a Puppeteer traveling the world with the Infinite Regressor ← could totally work as a standalone, long-form side story.]

[A sprinkle of travel in an apocalypse evokes timeless emotions.]

[Has the era finally arrived?]

[The era of me.]

“......”

It seemed my Ha-yul, who had recently been devouring Dok-seo’s novels, had suddenly developed a craving for screen time.

To be fair, Ha-yul spent more time with me than anyone else. Compared to Dang Seo-rin or Cheon Yo-hwa, who were busy managing their guilds, Ha-yul clung to me like gum every single day.

However, Ha-yul was a greedy little rascal.

What do I mean by that?

Despite becoming proficient enough in Aura manipulation to communicate effectively, Ha-yul stubbornly insisted on using Morse code, sign language, and sketches to communicate. When I asked her why one day, she replied:

[Oppa. People these days have become too accustomed to effortless communication, forgetting the value of human connection.]

[Language, voice, conversation—these miracles were never granted to them so easily.]

[Because of constant demands for communication, paradoxically, the modern person’s thresholds for meaningful interaction has skyrocketed.]

[I strive not to become addicted to the dopamine of communication. This is my ongoing effort.]

[I hope you, too, can appreciate the miracle that is dialogue, oppa.]

In simpler terms, it was peak chuunibyou.

I had encountered countless similar spectacles. For example, Dok-seo would seize every opportunity to proclaim, “Only emotional exchanges through novels count as true communication. Everything else is fake.”

So, does that mean people who don’t list novel-reading as a hobby are incapable of communication? I couldn’t make sense of it. All I could conclude was that there was a reason Ha-yul and Dok-seo were such close friends.

“By the way, Ha-yul,” I began. “Even if we travel together this time, it’s really far, so we can’t use a yogurt cart. We’ll have to make the trip quick since we can’t be away for too long.”

“......”

Tap, tap.

Ha-yul patted her shoulder.

We had our own set of silent poses we used to communicate with each other, and the one she just made meant [carry me].

When I approached and lifted her as instructed, what happened next was astonishing. The little rascal used her Aura to climb up my body in a flash, perching on my shoulder in no time at all! Her speed was so extraordinary it could only be described as Ha-yul the squirrel!

In response, I had to retaliate with equal finesse.

“Regressor Spin-Twist Special.”

“......!”

“Regressor Loopy Viking Swing.”

“......! ......!”

As I performed all sorts of acrobatic tricks with my Aura—a showcase only Aura experts could manage—Ha-yul clung to my back, laughing silently but uncontrollably.

Watching us from the side, Dok-seo muttered in disbelief, “Seriously, are they really father and daughter or something?”

That was how Ha-yul and I usually played around.

[Anyway, we can do it without Coco, that’s fine. I’ll just ride on oppa’s back.]

“You’re serious?”

[Why, is that a problem?]

“Of course not. Let’s head out quickly, then.”

The Puppeteer travels the world with the Infinite Regressor—spinoff confirmed! (Or not.)

As a result, rumors of a "father-daughter pair traveling leisurely even in a ruined world" began to spread across the Eurasian continent, and they weren’t particularly flattering rumors either. If anything, they leaned closer to ghost stories.

The reason was simple.

[Oppa’s back isn’t great.]

[It’s wide, which is nice, but it’s too hard, so it’s uncomfortable.]

Incredibly, the little rascal who had spent the entirety of our first journey to Mumbai treating me like a personal vehicle dared to leave a review complaining about the ride comfort.

In the end, I had no choice but to develop a luxury vehicle specifically for Ha-yul. This was a one-of-a-kind masterpiece—unparalleled before or since in human history.

Its design? Well...

Dok-seo gave her assessment in a single sentence:

“Seriously, it’s just an overly fancy jige.”[1]

Yes, it was a jige.

While the image of elderly men or tigers enjoying rides in such contraptions was more common, surprisingly, Ha-yul could also use it.

However, it was no ordinary jige. It was massive, and on it, I had installed a plush sofa that could double as a bed. There was even a canopy to protect the passenger from rain, snow, or blizzards—offering a cozy camping experience for any weather.

This wasn’t just a jige. This was an enhanced jige. +9 tier, easily surpassing its original function.

Naturally—though maybe not so naturally—it was also equipped with a miniature air conditioning system.

[Perfect.]

[I wonder... Maybe I’ve lived through countless cycles and met you, oppa, solely to experience this moment.]

After several rounds of review and revision, Ha-yul left a glowing five-star rating.

From that point forward, she, who had always been a human jellyfish of sorts, transformed into something more akin to a snail. Thus, the stories circulating across the Eurasian continent became slightly more specific:

“They say a father-daughter pair is wandering around a ruined world. The father carries a room-sized jige, and they seem oddly carefree as they travel. But something about them is just extremely suspicious.”

It was only natural that such tales wouldn’t be well-received. To the average person, the concept of it must have seemed utterly bizarre. Who could possibly imagine that, in an apocalyptic world full of perils, an Awakener would carry a jige just to fulfill their comrade’s wish to travel?

Even I hadn’t seen this coming.

As a result, urban legends about the Snail Man began springing up everywhere—from Moscow to Istanbul to Prague.

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https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

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“Ah... I’m jealous...”

Even stranger still, this wasn’t the end of the rumors.

“I want to try riding the guild leader’s jige too...”

Sim Ah-ryeon—buried in SG Net and firmly planted in her corner—sneaking glances with barely concealed envy as Ha-yul rode around in the jige during our travels.

To be more precise, her glances were in no way sneaky. She made sure I saw her envious expression and got the message loud and clear.

Her foolish-looking face was deceptive. I knew better than to fall for it. Every action and gesture from Ah-ryeon carried a highly calculated, political undertone.

“Ah-ryeon. This jige is for one person only.”

“Huh? Oh, of course! That’s obvious, but... since the guild leader is super strong, wouldn’t it be possible to modify it into a two-seater?”

“Ah-ryeon, I’m your guild leader. Look closely—this is not a mode of transportation.”

“B-but you let Ha-yul ride...”

“......”

Spinoff: Supporting Character Joins the Cast!

This marked the historic moment when the infamous "OldManGoryeo Villain" herself climbed aboard the jige, a device synonymous with the Goryeo dynasty.

During our travels, Ha-yul muttered her complaints.

[Ah-ryeon unnie is too gloomy. She’s just upset because my world travel diary on SG Net became popular, and now she wants to copy me for clout.]

“H-Ha-yul, isn’t that a bit egotistical? Clout-chasing? Why would I waste my time on something so meaningless, so unproductive? Don’t forget, I’m already a literary giant whose average views are 2.6 times higher than the so-called LiteraryGirl.”

[Wow. No way.]

[Seriously.]

[Hah.]

[If that’s how we’re measuring things, my travel diary gets twice your views, Ah-ryeon unnie.]

“Well... that’s because it’s the free-for-all board. Obviously, there’s way more traffic than on the serialized fiction board. If I were posting there, my views would be at least five times higher!”

[Legendary.]

Don’t misunderstand. These two were indeed the same Awakeners who, during the 687th cycle, fought in the Final Defense of Humanity. One died heroically on the frontlines, and the other held the rear, tirelessly healing the wounded until succumbing to Corruption.

This was precisely why it was crucial to separate the person from their work—the literary giant. the OldManGoryeo, the Awakener from their private life.

Human beings were like trees. With time, growth rings accumulated, layering one over the other. Branches extended in different directions.

Was OldManGoryeo, SG Net’s eternal mischief-maker, the trunk of this tree? Or was the Northern Saintess of the Final Defense, a central figure in the Final Defense Line, its true core?

Personally, I believed there was no point in discussing which was which. Both were just branches.

The trunk was always the same—the living, breathing human standing in front of me. This human liked café mochas, spoke with a stutter, and often laughed awkwardly.

“Oh... Oh?” Ah-ryeon suddenly stretched an arm over my shoulder, pointing somewhere. “Guild Leader. Over there...”

There was no need for her to point. Even before she noticed, I had already detected the Anomaly in my field of vision.

“Yes. It’s a railroad.”

“A railroad... Do you think it’s dangerous?”

As soon as the railroad came into view, Ah-ryeon immediately assumed it was dangerous. Her assumption wasn’t without merit.

---

In this ruined world, railroads almost always heralded a specific menace: the Trolley Dilemma.

The Trolley Dilemma was a kind of grotesque, ethical horror scenario.

Q: Please make a choice. The selected individuals will die!

A: Five violent criminals.

B: One con artist.

The setup revolved around choosing whom to save and whom to kill, a quintessential moral dilemma.

Naturally, in the real world, there weren’t lunatic serial killers tying people to railroad tracks to force such choices. It was entirely a thought experiment—a fictional problem used to spark philosophical debates.

But when had Anomalies ever bothered themselves with nuances like human logic? These creatures brought the Trolley Dilemma into reality in the most horrifyingly literal way imaginable.

“Please! Save us! I beg you!”

“H-heeelp! I don’t want to die!”

And sure enough, people were writhing and struggling, tied up along the tracks.

This was nothing new. The Trolley Dilemma appeared frequently and indiscriminately—be it in the Korean Peninsula or elsewhere. It was practically an Anomaly cliché. The methods to counter it were well-documented, and the process of eliminating it was straightforward. Truthfully, it wasn’t even one of the harder Anomalies to subdue.

But then—

“Oh... Oh my?”

“......”

“Hmm.”

Even so, Ah-ryeon, Ha-yul, and I found ourselves pausing in unison.

For professional Awakeners like us—each deeply accustomed to dealing with Anomalies—this hesitation was unnatural. Reality, however, had a knack for surpassing even the wildest expectations.

“G-Guild Leader.”

“Yes?”

“Those people on the tracks... They’re being tied up by other people.”

“It appears my eyes are seeing the same thing as yours.”

Who could have foreseen such a sight?

The ones actively binding the victims weren’t Anomalies at all. They were fellow humans. Ordinary, unmistakably human beings.

More than that, they weren’t just a few. It was an entire group—a throng of hundreds—all working diligently to tie people up.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

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Footnotes:

[1] A jige is a traditional Korean carrying frame.