The Tales of an Infinite Regressor

Chapter 230

[Translator - Jjescus]

[Proofreader - Gun]

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Chapter 230

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The Four Seasons IV

6

By now, you can probably guess: the anomalies inherently have the traits of hardcore otakus.

They cannot distinguish between "reality" and "fiction."

To be more precise, for these beings, everything is essentially no different from reality. In this sense, they are like otakus.

Just as otakus believe in a genuine 2D world beyond their monitor that contains the true idea, to the eyes of these beings, all objects are perceived as being equivalent to or even more valuable than reality.

‘Of course, each being has objects they prefer more or less.’

I used this "otaku test" on the Ice Age anomaly.

Since when? Right from the beginning, when I first encountered the Ice Age anomaly.

“Saintess, please communicate telepathically with the prisoners, but make it look like you're using a walkie-talkie.”

“Huh? Why is that?”

“There’s a reason. Also, it’d be great if you could act as though there’s static, just like with a real walkie-talkie.”

The walkie-talkies the prisoners took had no actual functionality, and the Saintess had never actually used a walkie-talkie.

Even so, the Ice Age anomaly recognized the "communication" as reality.

Without hesitation, the anomaly interfered with the walkie-talkie signal and even added noise that the Saintess hadn’t imitated.

By this point, I was sure.

"As expected. This thing isn't the type of anomaly that insists on the physical reality of the world."

Actually, I had a feeling from the moment the anomaly was lured to New-New York by the Statue of Liberty replica.

The more these beings lacked sensory organs like sight or smell, the more common this type was.

They perceive the world purely through concepts.

It’s like how, in old rituals to appease spirits, they would burn a piece of paper with the words “one million dollars” instead of actual money.

For the same reason??.

"Doctor Jang, forgive me, but what exactly are you doing right now...?"

"Isn't it obvious? I’m editing a video."

A real-life massacre.

A tragedy in a fictional world.

The Ice Age anomaly probably couldn’t distinguish the difference between the two at all.

"A video? What kind of video...?"

"A movie."

Click, click-click-click—click.

I continued editing the video, moving the mouse cursor around.

Though my editing skills weren't quite at the level of a seasoned pro, they were still fitting for someone who had gone through hundreds of regressions.

The footage, of course, was the video we had just shot inside the Statue of Liberty.

"Let's go! For our comrades!"

"Let's do this! We’ll save humanity!"

"Ooooooooh!"

Just then, a scene played of the ten brainwashed individuals leaving the bunker, ignoring the pleas of their comrades.

I reorganized the footage from different angles and added sound effects.

There was no cinematic artistry since I didn’t employ a professional director, but I didn't care in the slightest.

"Let's go! For our comrades!"

"Hehehe, hehehe, hehehehehe!"

"Let's do this! We’ll save humanity!"

In any case, I didn’t even need to try hard because the anomaly itself kept inserting itself into the video, enhancing the horror by adding its own touches here and there.

The edited video was entirely different from reality.

In the video, the ten brainwashed individuals had frozen corpses clinging to their backs.

The brainwashed were not moving on their own. The frozen ghosts were dragging their wrists and ankles, leading them out of the bunker.

“......”

Noh Doha, who had been watching the laptop next to me, wore a stunned expression.

It wasn’t just the brainwashed, though.

Even the surviving humans, who the anomaly’s influence hadn't fully consumed, had ghosts clinging to them.

Ghosts sitting on people's shoulders, wrapping their hands around their heads.

A ghost gnawing on Noh Doha’s leg with its gaping mouth.

Ghosts bashing their heads against the bunker door—bang, bang, bang-bang.

"What are all these...?"

“They’re the real cause of the 'cold' we’ve been feeling. These ghosts clinging to us are what’s making us feel cold.”

“Shit…?”

“There’s no point trying to drive them away right now. Captain Noh Doha, the filters are different, so we can't interfere with them.”

For the record, we weren’t filming anything right now. All the guards except the leaders were fast asleep.

I took advantage of the break to quickly jump into editing mode.

After finishing today's editing, I played the video back. Somehow, the anomaly had automatically enhanced it, and the "Doctor Jang" and "Noh Doha" in the video were spouting new dialogue that hadn't been there before.

"Doctor Jang."

"Yes."

"Now that it's just the two of us, I want to ask something I've been curious about. Do you... like me?"

[TL/N: Ngl there’s still confusion about the gender, bc from how earlier Noh doha was described, it’s supposed to be a cranky old man, but lately I feel like it’s a woman instead, waiting for better confirmation or rather manhwa.]

From beside me, I heard an expletive.

It wasn’t the "Noh Doha" in the video, but the real Noh Doha beside me, his voice dripping with pure rage. If his voice were fruit juice, it’d be 100% fresh durian.

"I never said anything like that…"

"Yeah, no kidding."

Even for me, it was a fascinating phenomenon.

"This is probably the truth as the anomaly perceives it. From our perspective, though, it's just a distortion."

"Of all the ways to distort things, why on earth did it have to be this shitty...?"

"Because it's an anomaly. Hmm, if I had to guess, maybe it saw us holding hands under the blanket and interpreted us as being in some kind of romantic or flirtatious relationship."

"Dammit, I knew something felt off. I should’ve let go of your hand back then, even if I ended up freezing to death..."

"Why are you overreacting? It's just a pointless distortion by the anomaly anyway."

The video continued, showing a scene labeled "Written by: Ice Age, Edited by: Ice Age, Sound by: Ice Age."

"Of course I like you. If I don’t see your rotten eyes every morning, it doesn’t feel like the day has started."

"Heh. That’s not the kind of question I was asking, and you know it, right?"

"......."

"Don’t you already know that the leader of the Three-Thousand World Guild has feelings for you? You’re perceptive enough. So why do you keep testing them...?"

"Hmm. I didn’t expect to be having this kind of conversation."

"......"

"......"

Silence.

An awkward silence settled between Noh Doha and me as we stared at the laptop together.

Once again, the "Doctor Jang" and "Noh Doha" in the video weren’t real. At that moment, in reality, we were just chatting about nothing important.

However.

"Surprisingly enough, Doctor Jang, I’ve been somewhat interested in the stories you’ve told me about the other timelines."

"Didn’t think you cared?"

"From a realistic point of view, not really. But I must admit, the story about me strangling you to death was quite amusing. More importantly, it's quite useful for understanding you as a person."

Between Noh Doha and me, there was not only conversation exchanged through words but also a constant "silent" signal of telepathic communication.

Like the letter 'G' in the English word 'SIGN,' which is never pronounced.

That G-string signal was always a background sound between us.

In human relationships, just as much value is placed on "what can be said" as on "what can be swallowed."

Compared to other relationships, Noh Doha and I belonged to a category where the G sound was particularly strong.

In other words, we were like companions at a band concert, standing shoulder to shoulder, faintly listening to the bass.

Therefore.

"But there's something interesting about the stories you tell..."

"I'd be disappointed if there were only one."

"There's no mention of romance."

In reality, we never had such a conversation.

Never.

Though we had never made a formal agreement, neither of us ever crossed a certain "line."

Noh Doha strangling me to death? Even that wasn’t an outrageous act outside the scale of the G-string notes we shared.

It was merely an anecdote we would laugh off as "that could happen."

Rather.

"Huh. I didn’t think Director Noh Doha would be interested in romance. I'll keep that in mind next time."

“You’re playing dumb. Hoo. Let me make it clear so even those ears of yours can understand. Doctor Jang, I'm interested in the fact that 'you don't talk about romance' itself."

"It's because I'm impotent."

"Oh. That’s one theory. But you seem perfectly fine, so I’ll dismiss it..."

Such a conversation was something that transcended the distant boundaries of our line.

In the video, Noh Doha turned his head and looked up at the Doctor Jang in the frame. From a distance close enough to feel each other's breath.

"Shall I tell you my theory?"

"..."

"In another timeline, you told me??."

Click.

Without anyone having to prompt the other, we clicked the laptop mouse.

Since I was quicker, I clicked on my left hand with the cursor. Noh Doha 's palm was resting on the back of that hand.

Silence lingered.

Strangely enough, the real Noh Doha was looking up at me at an angle. Just like in the frozen frame of the video.

Maybe that’s why. I felt as if time itself had stopped in reality.

Despite being an Awakener, Noh Doha 's hair was black. Just like mine. His pupils were also black, with no tint alteration. Just like mine.

Black reflected in black.

With both of us obscuring each other’s gaze with our pupils, once again, without anyone prompting, a Morse code of silent (ink sound) signals began to resonate.

"Shall we pretend this never happened?"

"..."

"Or?"

The silence stretched on.

Noh Doha parted his lips.

"I."

"..."

"No matter how many timelines change, your gaze on Tang Seorin as Tang Seorin, Yoo Jiwon as Yoo Jiwon, and Lee Hayul as Lee Hayul, sometimes pisses me off, but I don't think it's wrong. After all, that’s how you can consider yourself the same person, whether it's the 10th or 100th turn of yourself."

"Yes. I know."

"What pisses me off is that while you remember everything, I do not."

"I know."

"So, if I can't know everything, I'd rather not hear anything at all. No matter what I bring up, to you with your [Perfect Memory], it’s no different from replaying a recorded tape, and that pisses me off. Heh. I wonder how others feel about this? Are they having fun every time, feeling something new...?"

"I know."

"Bastard."

Noh Doha grabbed my necktie. Rather than pulling it, his gesture resembled clawing at it.

It was at that moment.

"Do you want to hear my voice?"

Click.

Even though no one clicked the cursor, the video started playing on its own.

"Then first, save this damn world."

"Or, heh. Lose your regression ability. Or learn how to forget."

But I couldn’t turn my gaze to the laptop screen. Noh Doha , right in front of me, was forcing me to maintain eye contact.

More than that, there was no need to.

"Shall I tell you the truth?"

Whether it was Noh Doha on the screen or Noh Doha right in front of me, they would have been in the exact same position.

"I don’t expect you to save the world."

"It’s quite the opposite."

"Doctor Jang. I’m the only person who expects you to 'fail.'”

"Because from what I see, that’s far more likely. I’m not the type to bet my life on false hope..."

Noh Doha smiled with his eyes.

"The day you stand on equal footing with me will only come when you give up on regression. When you are living your final life."

"That will be hell for you."

"In that final hell of your last life, yes, I will gladly join you at the very bottom..."

"I look forward to that day... How about you? Are you also looking forward to the hell that will be your one and only funeral and your one and only life?"

"You can even thank me for it... saying it’s all thanks to me..."

"It’s just a shame that this turn isn’t the one where you fall into hell..."

Noh Doha placed his palm over my eyes.

Because of that, I couldn’t tell if the final words came from Noh Doha ’s lips or leaked from the laptop speakers.

"Don’t forget..."

Cold, black temperature.

Like a snow-covered midnight wilderness where nothing is visible, the music’s final lingering notes softly whispered before fading away.

"I’ll be waiting for you at your true bad ending."

7.

The next day.

We began the full-fledged process of exterminating the anomaly.

[Translator - Jjescus]

[Proofreader - Gun]

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