The Tales of an Infinite Regressor - Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Eschatologist V
When I opened my eyes, leaving another death in my memories, I was in the waiting room of Busan
Station.
It would have been nice to say that the familiar 399 survivors came into view. However, even the waiting room of Busan Station was not spared from the chilling wind of mass layoffs. Only one person welcomed me this time.
“Ah, guild leader. You’re awake?”
“…Hmm.”
“Here’s some Ceylon tea. Have a drink when you get up.”
Go Yuri was sitting on a bench in the waiting room, and I was lying on the same bench.
At the time, I didn’t know, but there was a certain genre grammar in the world.
[The same bench] [One sitting] [One lying down]. When these three concepts combined, they always resulted in a certain inevitable outcome, transcending time and space.
Simply put, Go Yuri was giving me a lap pillow.
Her pink hair cascaded before my eyes like an acacia blossom. A subtle scent like bath salts and the sweet fragrance of apples freshly dipped in cold water wafted through the air.
“……”
I instinctively tried to get up but decided against it.
Perhaps it was because I had used the forbidden technique [Friend Shield] a little while ago. I felt a slight guilt. Surprisingly, there was still room in my heart for feelings of guilt towards Go Yuri.
Not that I could escape the presence before me anyway.
“Did I die?”
“Yes. And no.”
Go Yuri brushed her hair back behind her ear. Her hair swayed like bellflowers.
“In terms of having died at the hands of the [Bad Ending], yes, you died. But it’s hard to call it a true death. In a dream, one cannot truly die.”
“…Indeed.”
Even dying in this unconscious world wouldn’t trigger a ‘regression.’ My real self was still sleeping soundly surrounded by the Tutorial Fairies.
It was good information.
“How did you escape? The enemy seemed impossible to fight against.”
“Well, if I tried to fight like you, it would have been difficult. But I don’t necessarily oppose such beings. I can escape easily.”
Of course. Hail to the brainwashing beam.
I sighed.
“That old man, he was too powerful.”
“……”
“They say that in this unconscious world, one’s greatest fears are reflected. Right. In truth, I was afraid of the old man.”
It wasn’t that I had an aversion to Emit Schopenhauer as an individual. He was my comrade.
It’s just that…
“If the old man hadn’t gone on vacation and had stayed by my side, what would have happened… I’ve imagined that a few times.”
IF. A what-if scenario.
The route where Old Man Scho didn’t go on vacation.
“Old Man Scho has a gentle heart. Even if he hadn’t gone on vacation, his love and despair for his wife would have continued to nest in his heart. If he had forced himself to endure that and still stood by my side to save the world…”
Wouldn’t he have broken at some point?
There were plenty of dangerous moments.
For instance, when we exterminated the Outer God Infinite Void. Infinite Void shows people the ‘most perfect world line’ as an illusion.
Of course, Old Man Scho would have been immersed in days of happiness with his wife.
While I managed to break free from Dang Seo-rin, Noh Do-hwa, and the Saintess, could Old Man Scho have escaped?
Wouldn’t he have fallen as a new apostle of Infinite Void?
For example, when it was revealed that the Tutorial Fairy was actually a Baku. Negotiating with the Baku could manipulate dreams as desired.
That too would have been a hard temptation for Old Man Scho to resist.
For example, when the being before us took a real ‘interest’ in Old Man Scho.
Like the nightmare we just faced, wouldn’t Old Man Scho, deluded into thinking he had reunited with his wife, become a villain acting only for Go Yuri?
The best comrade turning into the worst enemy.
A common trope.
“Considering all that, maybe it was a divine move for him to go on vacation and leave with his wife.”
“……”
“A problem in death, a problem in life. Seriously, that old man was no help at all.”
The waiting room was silent.
As if hundreds, thousands of years had flowed by in an instant, weeds sprouted from the cracks in the floor. Through the holes in the roof and ceiling, the aged sunlight dripped like candle wax.
Go Yuri didn’t respond.
She just listened to my story with a troubled smile, as if this ‘silent listening’ was the form of comfort I desired most at the moment.
“Guild leader.”
After a long silence, Go Yuri whispered.
“Can you feel better at any time?”
A hint of green apple scent wafted from her whisper.
“Life is like countless dreams. The last dream a person has is called reality, but you’re like the Undertaker who roams forever in the dream, burying each dead dream one by one. This place is a farce where the corpses you buried come back to life and dance.”
“A dream within a dream, the world after the bad ending, parallel worlds, the collective unconscious. Roughly those concepts have turned into anomalies and unfolded as void.”
“And you can become the master of that void.”
“……”
“I will help you.”
Go Yuri’s thumb caressed my cheekbone.
Like a child peering into a deep well, Go Yuri gazed down into my eyes.
“Help? You will help me?”
“Yes. This place is not only your unconscious but the unconscious of all humanity. What do you think could be possible if you could freely manipulate this place?”
The sound of breathing, scented with apple, settled on my cornea.
My face felt itchy.
With each movement of Go Yuri’s lips, her breath drew closer.
“You could impose your dreams on all other humans.”
“……”
“That’s right. The dreams that no one else can experience, the apocalyptic scenes only you remember. You could share them with others, with those dear to you, with all humanity.”
“……”
“Show them your life.”
Suddenly, the apple fragrance turned into the scent of wine, like apple wine.
Like petals blossoming and unfolding, the wine scent in Go Yuri’s breath spread around instantly.
“Show them how much you suffered, how hard you worked for others, how wise and powerful you were.”
“……”
“Make them grieve at your pain, commit to your devotion, marvel at your abilities.”
Go Yuri’s voice, flowing from her pink lips like honey, was as rich as nectar.
“You could become everyone’s dream. If such a dream is called a myth, you would become a miraculous myth blooming at the end of the century.”
“You don’t think I’m going to nod at this, do you?”
“No.”
Go Yuri smiled with her eyes.
“Not now.”
Press. Go Yuri’s finger pressed gently against my chin.
“But as your suffering matures more and more, won’t that nod come closer?”
“……”
“Don’t become sweet carelessly, guild leader. If you keep getting tastier, I might want to devour you without realizing it.”
The words murmured from right in front of me felt as if Go Yuri had really said them—or were just a whisper of my delusion.
It was impossible to gauge Go Yuri’s sincerity in any statement.
She called me the ghost of dreams. But in truth, she was the mirage made entirely of dreams and flesh.
Maybe that was the tragedy assigned to the existence of Go Yuri.
As I looked up into Go Yuri’s red well, such a thought struck me.
A week of nights passed.
Although it was quite a shock to offer my neck to an old comrade, my mental state recovered completely after a few rests.
I tossed some Ceylon tea into my mouth and farmed Silver Bells from the souvenir shop. Go Yuri watched me with amusement.
“What are you planning? As you said, the Bad Ending is an unbeatable enemy.”
“The Bad Ending has its own uses.”
Jingle.
The Silver Bell on my wrist rang softly. My personal item, ingrained even in the unconscious (pre-apocalypse price: 9,900 won), felt special today.
“The old man will return someday.”
“Huh?”
“More precisely, I will make him return. The co-representative of the company ran off to be happy by himself; I must bring him back, right? The problem was that even if I caught the old man, I could only listen to the sound of a water rocket for now.”
Old Man Scho’s potential was extraordinary.
But it was ‘only’ potential.
When Old Man Scho was alive, it was a time when even the Korea Awakener’s Federation couldn’t catch Meteor Shower.
Can you believe it? Meteor Shower. That anomaly, now so trivial we call it a mid-boss, was something Old Man Scho would exclaim, “They expect us to clear this?”
Old Man Scho’s time stopped at the 23rd cycle. From my perspective, that was more than thousands of years in the past.
No matter how successful or talented a person is, continuous adaptation to new eras is necessary. It would be absurd to claim, “Hey everyone! This is the most popular genre literature these days!” while bringing out the Epic of Gilgamesh now.
“I originally planned to train the old man like crazy if he returned. With his talent, I thought about lightly training him for about 200 years so he could at least be useful.”
“Hehe.”
“But here in the unconscious world, we have such a great answer sheet provided.”
Go Yuri tilted her head.
“Answer sheet?”
Yes. An answer sheet.
I was ready to face Old Man Scho’s Bad Ending, the Fallen Alter version, also known as the Sword Demon, again.
Like last time, the Sword Demon was wandering the scorched city of Seoul. Dragging an utterly unglamorous construction steel pipe.
As usual, wasn’t he the one swallowing up all the elegance and dignity of the awakened ones?
For the sake of preserving the dignity and character of the awakened, it was inevitable that I, the Undertaker, had to step in.
I took a deep breath.
Then exhaled with all my might.
“Hey, you National Socialist German Workers’ Party member bastard!”
“……”
Freeze—
A racial hate speech, which would make a well-educated German (excluding the 1930s) have a seizure, echoed loudly.
By the way, the National Socialist German Workers’ Party, commonly known as NSDAP, was better known by its alias among the awakened ones. Nazis.
Incidentally, Old Man Scho was a person who voted for the Social Democratic Party of Germany from birth until the day the world ended. His blood was quite red.
Germany had produced both Karl Marx and Adolf Hitler. In other countries, the battle between fascists and communists might be a simple ideological struggle, but in Germany, it was compounded with feelings of ethnic hatred.
Even if one falls into being an anomaly, a true revolutionary fighter never betrays their ideology.
“Look at this!”
Flutter.
I shook an old banner.
“…….”
The Sword Demon’s focus wavered wildly upon seeing the symbol majestically depicted on the banner.
卍.
Though it was just a Buddhist symbol in the East, no Occidentalist could comprehend the profound teachings of Buddha.
The DNA of ‘Ka’ dormant in Old Man Scho’s blood began an allergic overreaction to the sound of ‘Ad.’
“Uuurgh!”
The German-born super-communist Swordmaster howled. If only his aura had been red, it would have been perfect.
But its power was undeniable.
True to the protocol to destroy the old and outdated world from its inception, Old Man Scho’s swordplay—or rather, pipe-play—destroyed the city in an instant.
However, the Sword Demon’s hand, aiming to cut me down, suddenly hit the brakes.
“…! …!”
Where the Sword Demon’s aura was heading, there were statues made of clay.
Busts of ‘Karl Marx’ and ‘Rosa Luxemburg’!
The Sword Demon hesitated like a bugged NPC. His expression was like a Japanese Kirishitan ordered to step on a Jesus plaque to prove he wasn’t a Christian.
Indeed, to the German-born old man, those two statues were like the holy icons of Jesus and the Virgin Mary.
If he swung his sword left, Marx would be destroyed, and if he attacked right, Luxemburg would be ruined.
“Ugh, uuurgh…!”
My preparations didn’t end there.
Just in case, I had displayed all the busts of German leftist politicians I knew: Kurt Schumacher, Willy Brandt, Wilhelm Pieck, Walter Ulbricht, and so on.
Regardless of which faction Old Man Scho supported (though I wasn’t interested in German politics, unifying the leftist factions was an illusion and an anomaly in itself), one of them would surely get him!
Yes.
I, the Undertaker, had spent a week hanging around Busan Station’s waiting room just to show this.
Thanks to all the pointless efforts during every vacation cycle, my sculpting skills were quite impressive.
“Does the old man think he’s the only one who can do domain expansion? This is my domain expansion.”
“Uuurgh…”
“I’ve hidden statues all over this city like mines. Come forth, my unique barrier. The revolutionary space of red massacre.”
“Uuuuurgh!”
Come, old communist.
Cry and prove your (ideological) purity.