I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell-Chapter 325

Editor: echo

Discord: https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

◈ I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

Chapter 325

──────

The Skeptic XVIII

The saddest rain in the world is the rain that falls on a forgotten graveyard.

A young girl, not yet dead, listened to that rain and looked at me.

“You’re asking me to wait, but that will be hard,” Ji-won whispered. “As you know, Mr. Matiz, I can’t remember people’s faces. Even distinguishing voices is tough... So the only thing my memory can rely on is your scent. Would you please stay like this for a moment?”

I did as she asked.

She still hadn’t moved her palms from my cheeks. From there, she gently adjusted the angle, pulling me closer to herself to press her nose against me.

“I’ll try my best to memorize it.”

A voice. A deep breath. Another voice.

“I don’t believe in prophecies, even less so in cults. But when you spoke of the world’s end, for some reason, I found you strangely trustworthy.”

A breath. A quiet voice. Another breath.

“So I’ll try to survive.”

Although she always faced the world with a blank expression, Yu Ji-won’s breathing wasn’t entirely devoid of color or odor. No, she was the type who always confronted the world head-on, just at a slightly different angle from others. In that small, hidden corner, she worked fervently—as she did with everything—to memorize my scent.

“My memory isn’t extraordinary. I expect that after seven or eight years, I might forget the smell.”

“...I’ll be back before then.”

“Okay. I’ll stay alive until then. Even if the world perishes again and again, as you say, I will endure.”

Her voice was calm as she spoke.

“I find you... interesting. Your kindness to me is unusual and special. But from what I’ve heard, a person’s malice can last for over fifteen years, whereas kindness tends to evaporate more quickly. I wonder if you’ll really treat me the same way when we meet again.”

Ji-won drew back slightly, tilting her head up with my face still held in hand, and let a faint smile curl on her lips.

Hers was an unnatural, forced smile. That very abnormal expression was her normal.

“I have a reason to keep living now.”

And then, the downpour of water-bugs that threatened to swallow the entire world abruptly wrapped around my neck, like a noose on a condemned prisoner. The same transparent noose of water was looped around Ji-won’s neck.

Rain.

We both looked like convicts whose execution had merely been postponed.

We went down the mountain, that transparent noose still hanging around both my and Ji-won’s necks even after we made it out of the graveyard alive.

'...I have no idea what this is,' I thought to myself, tapping at the noose.

My fingertips touched nothing, even as the watery loop wriggled. It was definitely there—I could see it with my own two eyes—but I didn’t feel anything that confirmed it.

'Ji-won doesn’t even notice it at all.'

What was this suspicious noose?

To be honest, up until we disposed of that secondhand car near Dobongsan, I wasn’t too worried. I had assumed coming in that Yu Ji-won must have some Awakener ability beyond Mini-Map, something I hadn’t known about.

But then...

“Huh?” I breathed.

By the time night ended and dawn arrived, I saw people outside the car window. And that changed things.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Matiz?”

They all had a noose around their necks.

Early-morning commuters headed to work, and every single one of them wore a transparent water-bug noose without exception. It was the same no matter where I looked. The people stepping out of a convenience store for a smoke, the bus driver standing beside them on the asphalt, the dozing college student nodding in the bus seats—all of them had that noose around their neck.

No one even realized.

“...No, it’s nothing.”

“Is that so?” Ji-won asked with a tilt of her head.

I swallowed as I turned the steering wheel.

This was happening because of Ji-won—I was sure of it. Before her “connection” to Leviathan, none of this had been visible. It started after we buried her parents’ remains, stood in the rain, and decided to live. From that moment onward, people—potentially the entire human race—wore nooses.

'Leviathan... Was it already affecting humanity this far back?'

I had theorized Leviathan was based far from the Korean Peninsula, only growing strong in tandem with my repeated runs and taking an interest in the peninsula only much later. But then, how would I explain this?

Three days later, Ji-won reported her parents missing to the police, saying she believed they’d disappeared.

The local station was already quite familiar with her household. The father’s gambling had long been one of the lesser concerns. Countless noise complaints had been filed against them, and that was before mentioning their ties to a cult that was causing headaches not just in our neighborhood but all over Seoul.

From those facts alone, the police drew an easy conclusion:

“Maybe they ran away in the night?”

It was the very rational deduction.

“They stole the daughter’s bank account by messing with the password. And the other one’s locked out entirely.”

“That college student living next door reported his Matiz stolen, too.”

“Wow, those scammer parents, unbelievable.”

CCTV wasn’t much help either. Rain poured heavy into the night, and the car took deserted roads. It was hard to track down any witnesses from that stormy dawn.

“Sergeant! We found that cultist’s car!”

“Where?”

“In Incheon. The daughter’s phone was also there.”

“Ugh. Damn it...”

“We also found some clothes in the trunk that must’ve been used for changing outfits on the run.”

The police, wearing exasperated faces, headed for Yu Ji-won’s home again. There they found a straight-faced middle-school girl caring for her grandmother, who had dementia.

They felt solemn. The local officers were already conscious of how they’d been neglecting this girl, letting her suffer family abuse for so long.

“So, Miss Ji-won, we’re trying to track your parents, but it’s not easy. Have they called you or anything since that day?”

“No. I lost my phone.”

“Ah, oh... Right, yeah... That’s tough.”

The police turned to the grandmother.

“Ma’am, do you remember anything about where your son and daughter-in-law might’ve gone?”

“Huh?” She blinked. “Where’d the kids go?”

“Yes, Grandma, it’s already been half a month, right?”

“The kids went somewhere? Where?”

The officers exchanged glances. They could only do so much.

“Well, Miss Ji-won, if your parents call again, let us know. And if you need help with anything, just say the word.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

They left, gripping at the sorry state of the world as he did.

“How can parents like that even exist these days?”

“That poor, good child. She’s so polite.”

“Honestly we shouldn’t say this,” one half-whispered, “but at least the neighborhood’s quieter.”

“True. Might actually be better for her.”

“Hey! Enough, that’s rude!”

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Gossip sank into the cracks of cheap concrete in that hillside slum.

No one imagined a 14-year-old had killed her parents, buried them overnight, then calmly constructed a fake alibi.

No one in that neighborhood had enough imagination or ruthless cunning to guess.

Her environment itself proved that gap in imagination, the real void in her reality.

The case was closed.

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Editor: echo

https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

Ka-tok.

[Leaving tomorrow, are you?]

Ka-tok.

[Mr. Matiz, is it really true that we have to take our shoes off when boarding the plane?]

[I want to believe that, but the internet says otherwise.]

[Anyway, I’ve packed indoor slippers just in case.]

Ka-tok.

[Looks like we’ll have some leftover soybean-paste stew. Once Grandma finishes her meal, I’ll drop by with the leftovers.]

After that night, time moved quickly.

It wasn’t just a feeling. Time literally seemed sped up, like watching a video at 5× speed and skipping through parts.

It must mean that all the crucial events at this point in the past are already resolved, I realized. There was nothing else for me to learn. Or to be more precise with it, this was all the information available about Yu Ji-won’s past.

It felt like a silent hint from Cheon Yo-hwa, the one orchestrating this illusion.

'I guess the me in this era didn’t have Complete Memory, so he wouldn’t remember each day’s trivialities in real-time. Only major events would stand out.'

I turned off the group chat that kept vibrating with ka-tok notifications and skimmed through the phone’s address list.

[Friends: 611]

[■. ■■■]

[■. ■■■]

[■■■]

[■■■ ■■■]

[■■■(■■)]

[■■■]

[■]

[■■■]

[■■■~■]

[■■■]

·

·

·

They were all anonymous. No matter how far I scrolled, I couldn’t see a proper name. Everyone was ■, just like me.

I sighed.

'I have so many connections, yet I’m completely blocked from tracing my past.'

I could call or receive calls, but that was pointless. I couldn’t understand anything the other side said, nor could they hear me. They’d just get “whatever this era’s me would have said.”

For instance...

Ka-tok.

A new message arrived. This time, not from Yu Ji-won but from someone else. I checked out of curiosity.

IRS_325.webp (141.43 KB)

A: How have you been lately?

A: I assume everything is going well, but I get a little anxious not hearing anything from you.

A: Is everything okay with you?

B: No worries

B: Everything’s good

A: I’m glad to hear it!

A: You’re as reliable as ever, I see.

A: Give me a bit, and I'll see you soon.

“I have no clue who this is,” I muttered.

On the screen, it looked like we were chatting just fine, but in reality, nothing close to that happened. They sent a text and soon enough, my “reply” auto-appeared. If I tried typing my own text, it didn’t matter, a “predetermined script” would override it.

'At least with them, I can see the conversation in normal text. With others it’s just static. I was hoping to learn more about my other acquaintances while investigating Ji-won’s past, but no luck.'

Cheon Yo-hwa must be enforcing that rule she mentioned: “A single sheet of canvas can hold only one painting.”

A wry smile tugged at my lips.

'I already blacked out for a bit, and six months flew by. This illusion is probably about to end, sending me back to her classroom.'

I’d hoped to at least stick around until she and I went on that bike trip to Japan, but...

'I guess it can’t be helped.'

Just then...

Ding-dong.

A doorbell rang from the entryway.

Not only was this building old, but so was the door chime, so there was an off-pitch mechanical hum beneath the tone.

'Ah, that must be Ji-won. She did mention leftover stew.'

Recently, Ji-won had started cooking dinner. It was partly because her parents vanished and partly to rescue her collapsing finances. However, a novice always struggles with portion sizes, so she often made too much and gave me the extras.

Ding-dong.

There was a second urgent chime.

“Yeah, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

I hauled myself out of my chair and headed for the door.

With each step, the illusion wavered. At the start of summer, it felt so lifelike. Now it was so unstable, as if about to disconnect at any moment.

'So I’ll probably just get her homemade food and exit the dream?'

That wouldn’t be so bad. At least I’d say a parting word to her, and maybe give her a final warm smile. Pity I wouldn’t get to ride bikes together, though. That would be left to my “past self.”

It didn’t matter. Once the illusion ended, I could reunite with her anytime in the present.

I...

Ding-doooooooong...

I scraped open the door.

“Hah... Oh dear.”

At the sight of the visitor through the gap, my entire body froze.

“What do I do? I only pushed the doorbell, but the button jammed. It keeps ringing.”

“...”

“It happened before too. Anyway, sorry, it’s been so long since I last came... Huh?”

It wasn’t Yu Ji-won.

She never spoke that way. She didn’t fuss like that. Her gestures weren’t that natural.

She didn’t...

“■■■?”

...have pink hair either.

“■■■, are you okay?”

Chhhzzzz.

She had no face.

“...”

“■■■?”

Chhhzzzzzz...

Where her eyes and expression should have been, there was only TV static.

IRS_325.webp (8.92 KB)

[I'm s■rry, sunbae. I tried to ho■d on. I couldn't s■op it.]

Chhhzzzzzz...

Occasionally, through the noise, a voice slipped between the lips.

I was not as tone-deaf as Yu Ji-won. Even if the static interfered, I could recognize the speaker’s identity just from fragments of their voice.

A groan escaped my lips.

“Go... Yuri...?”

And at that moment, the static elongated, churned, then tore.

Ding-dooooonng, ding-dooooong.

Ahahahahahaha— Vzzt!

Like an old TV smashing, the power to this world shut off.