Theatrical Regression Life

Chapter 58

Chapter 58

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Chapter 58

Time was running short, so the gathering team decided to spread out, ensuring no one strayed too far from the others.

There were murmurs of concern about the director’s critical condition, but Lee Jaehun managed to quell those worries. Although he didn’t precisely remember the farming points and had his own items to collect, he couldn’t show off in front of the others as if he knew everything.

‘…Was it to the left of the bridge… or the right?’

Even as his feet carried him left, Lee Jaehun pondered.

While he had a decent memory, recalling the specifics of a novel he’d skimmed was a stretch. Unless someone had a photographic memory, it was impossible to remember every detail of where and how the protagonist acted.

Unfortunately, Lee Jaehun’s ability was regeneration.

‘It would have been nice if my brain cells regenerated to superhuman levels, allowing me to use 100% of my brain.’

But he couldn’t remember such minor details. Unless he was deeply invested in the novel, remembering it all was unfeasible. Naturally, Lee Jaehun wasn’t that invested. His life was too busy to take novels seriously.

Frowning, he tried to recall the novel’s details.

‘These weirdly grown trees make it hard to tell.’

At least there were no more green algae monsters in sight. He could barely find his way as it was, and encountering those monsters would mean instant death for all five of them.

‘…Honestly, it’s so eerily quiet it’s unsettling.’

Sighing, Lee Jaehun continued on his way.

He saw several trees with eyes burnt into their trunks. Unlike the eyes that moved in his dream, these were stationary, but still, it was enough to make him curse. It felt like he was in the middle of a haunted house at an amusement park.

Hobbling on his injured leg and using a tree for support, he blinked as he saw a long statue come into view. It was a sculpture of a snake coiling up a tree.

“…Found it.”

A heartfelt exclamation escaped his lips. He wouldn’t have shown such genuine amazement if the others were around, but alone, he couldn’t help it.

‘Considering how much I’ve struggled so far.’

Quickly collecting himself, Lee Jaehun walked past the old, moss-covered statue and looked up. The white light filtering through the dense leaves was barely visible, but that wasn’t what he was checking for.

Hanging from the geometric branches, like beads threaded through holes, were glassy, round fruits.

‘Glass apples.’

They were a themed fruit associated with a small lake.

Lee Jaehun didn’t know their exact name. He just called them glass apples after seeing the protagonist in the novel eat them. Despite their smooth appearance, the protagonist enjoyed these fruits.

The fruits were transparent like pebbles under a shallow lake, filled with a light blue jelly. It was more like a slightly sweet, wobbly liquid. The skin was as hard as real glass, so you had to be careful not to get shards in the flesh, but they were quite filling, which made the protagonist rate them highly.

To add another layer of description…

“…….”

Though it might sound overly sentimental, they were quite beautiful.

“…Such taste.”

Even though Lee Jaehun had no place criticizing the excessive settings, the author who created this world wasn’t entirely sane either. To place such beautiful scenes in a brutally cruel world…

The white light filtering through the dark leaves and refracting within the transparent, round fruits, shimmering like heat haze, illuminating the dark forest was enchanting and surreal.

However, unlike the eerie fear he felt by the small lake, this sight didn’t evoke terror. The overwhelming sparkle, the brief breathlessness, the eye-watering brightness, and the tingling sensation spreading through his body made it an involuntary thrill. The chilling excitement and disturbance from seeing a beauty he could never witness in his previous life tormented his mind.

If asked whether this was a positive reaction, he would firmly shake his head. But even an unwelcome awe for something grand can make the heart tremble.

Light passed through the glass apples, scattering like shattered gems, filling the shadows cast by the leaves.

‘…All the fruits near the small lake look like this.’

They didn’t exactly look like fruits.

Thinking that, Lee Jaehun ended his unnecessary musings.

The large lake inhabited by the green monsters had almost no other creatures or fruits, but the area near the small lake was rich with edible plants suitable for gathering. There were not only fruits but also flowers, herbs, and even trees that were easy to eat.

Of course, the protagonist’s party in the novel didn’t particularly enjoy these. How could they savor their meals when they were struggling just to breathe and see what’s in front of them? They weren’t eating tree bark worms for no reason. If it weren’t for Lee Jaehun diligently managing their mental health, they would have been gnawing on tree bark instead of having proper meals.

Thinking of those half-baked chicks made him sigh involuntarily, and Lee Jaehun slowly moved his steps. Before informing the party about the glass apples, he thought he should try one first.

He consciously spoke out loud.

“…There’s one growing at a low height.”

It was a kind of excuse. There was a strangely shaped fruit at a perfect height for picking, so how could he resist tasting it?

He sighed.

‘I’ll get scolded later, but it’s better than dragging things out.’

Lee Jaehun was haunted by the memory of being scolded from all sides after drinking lake water once, but he wasn’t about to play hot potato with the responsibility. Since he was certain about the glass apples, it was better for him to eat it and confirm its safety.

Lee Jaehun lightly plucked a glass apple hanging low and knocked it against a sturdy tree trunk.

Crash,

“…”

The skin shattered easily like thin glass.

Though it wasn’t described in the novel, the glass apple seemed to have juice, just like any other fruit. Liquid dripped at a steady pace from the neatly broken shell. The juice was as clear as water. The shell was really like glass, so he carefully inspected it to avoid swallowing any fragments, but fortunately, he didn’t see any pieces embedded in the flesh.

‘It was said to be similar to an egg.’

He inserted his fingers into the cracked opening and pried it open like a clam. Imagining it as a slightly larger egg, he opened it, and the shell split cleanly in half. Lee Jaehun dropped one half to the ground and looked at the flesh.

A strangely sweet aroma wafted to his nose.

“Let’s see….”

He took a bite without making a sound.

The texture was, indeed, like jelly.

Not the firm or springy kind made with lots of agar or gelatin, but the kind that barely held its shape with just a hint of those ingredients mixed into water. It was mushy, making one wonder how it maintained its round form.

‘The taste is quite bland.’

It had a faint starchy quality, like when you eat potatoes, sweet potatoes, or corn. Despite the intensely sweet aroma, the sweetness on the tongue was about the level of half a teaspoon of sugar.

Recalling how the protagonist’s party had filled their stomachs with glass apples in the latter part of the story… it reminded him of emergency crops.

And surprisingly,

“Oh.”

He genuinely felt full.

‘This isn’t bad.’

He thought as he lightly bit the side of his finger covered in juice.

Though the flavor was mild and it was soft, making one wonder if it would satisfy hunger, it actually provided a substantial sense of fullness. It wasn’t for nothing that the highly socialized psychopath rated it highly.

‘If we take just a few to match our numbers, we should be fine for the day….’

Lee Jaehun, who was starting to worry about how to explain himself and avoid getting scolded, froze when he sensed someone approaching.

“……”

“What… are you eating?”

“…Damn it.”

He wasn’t ready with an excuse yet.

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After enduring Jung Inho’s knowing looks disguised as obliviousness for about ten minutes, Lee Jaehun finally came up with a proper excuse.

He put on a sheepish expression and spoke.

“I’ve eaten this before… so I knew it was safe.”

It was a kind of catch-22.

Just like in society where you can’t really respond to ‘Aren’t you going to manage your expressions?’, Lee Jaehun’s past was still an area the protagonist couldn’t easily approach, leaving no room for rebuttal. In reality, he was just maintaining a persona.

Given the protagonist didn’t know his past, they couldn’t call him a liar, nor could they risk touching on potentially sensitive memories out of basic human decency. It was the best excuse Lee Jaehun could think of.

Jung Inho took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead several times, but when he put them back on, he wore a clean and earnest smile as if it had been painted on.

His pitch-black eyes were still silently cursing, though.

‘He really is a bit like a doctor.’

Jung Inho spoke slowly.

“…If that’s the case, it can’t be helped. But what were you thinking, biting into something like that knowing it could be dangerous and worrying everyone? Do you really not understand how taxing it is for you to even be here with us, Director?”

“Do you even realize how absurd that worry is? It’s like watching a local guide eat home-cooked food and saying, ‘That looks dangerous, you shouldn’t eat it.’”

“I have a lot to say, but I’ll hold back for now. Director, even if we accept the local guide comparison, the home-cooked food part makes no sense. Does this world feel like home to you?”

“Well…”

Lee Jaehun was about to answer that it didn’t, but he closed his mouth.

‘…Does it?’

Is this home?

‘No, that’s nonsense.’

But it did feel somewhat like returning to his hometown. This feeling of risking his life with every meal, facing the threat of survival 24/7, was familiar.

That’s why, when he first stepped outside the office, old traumas resurfaced, and despite the sudden recollection of his past life, he had no trouble adapting to this parallel world.

“……”

Honestly, it did feel like coming home. It sounded crazy, even to himself.

Whatever the protagonist made of his brief hesitation, his expression became peculiar.

“…Director?”

“…No, it’s nothing.”

“I sincerely hope you haven’t fully adapted to this world.”

“……”

Is adapting a problem now too?

‘Why even that…?’

The question that appeared on Lee Jaehun’s face was barely concealed.

If you take away adaptability from humans, what’s left? Remembering how the protagonist adapted to the parallel world, Lee Jaehun felt like he was hearing ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’ You can’t be serious, you hypocrite.

Jung Inho’s face hardened even more in response to Lee Jaehun’s reaction. Honestly, if he was going to be serious, he could at least explain why.

The protagonist’s voice lowered a bit.

“…What’s so great about this place that you’d adapt to it?”

“Humans are creatures of adaptation…”

“There are limits to that.”

Though he forced a smile, his slightly furrowed brows and downcast eyes betrayed his discomfort.

“Just as there’s no need to adapt to fear or pain.”

“…..”

Ah, really?

Lee Jaehun, both a reincarnator and a possessor, was taken aback.

‘Do people here not adapt to fear or pain? Is that normal…?’

His mind spun with confusion.

So, every time they’re hurt, it feels like a fresh pain… Can that be true? And fear too? How do they even live if they can’t adapt to those things? Have they lived in such a cushy world?

Questions swirled in his head. It felt like a native Korean hearing for the first time that foreign food was too spicy.

‘No, wait.’

It felt more like discovering how little garlic foreigners put in their garlic rice compared to the copious amounts Koreans would use. That kind of…

To put it simply, it was a culture shock.

‘Is it really possible to not adapt to pain?’

He understood that they placed value on pain, but this was a bit too much.

“Well, why…?”

How do you even live like that…? Do you feel like you’re truly living that way? Do you live with so little pain that you never need to get used to it? Is the whole world like a cushioned seat for you?

Lee Jaehun, caught up in shock and disbelief, barely gathered himself to speak.

“…Is that how it is for everyone here…?”

Correction, he still wasn’t himself.

Lee Jaehun slapped his own cheek quickly and spoke again.

“I misspoke, sorry.”

“…Why did you slap yourself…?”

“I probably won’t be careful about this in the future either. Worrying about pain beforehand like you all do is frustrating and inefficient. I’d rather just test things with my own body. It’s more effective that way.”

“……”

“Besides, no matter how much you worry, you can’t always make the right decision. I’m not forcing anyone else to eat anything, so you don’t need to worry so much. Isn’t that right? I don’t want to deal with such inefficient concerns.”

Lee Jaehun’s speech sped up in his panic, overwhelming Jung Inho, who closed his mouth tightly. Those dark eyes, though, remained as sharply critical as ever.

But the thought of always preparing excuses and enduring scolding made Jaehun unwilling to back down.

“Just think of it this way. I’ll take the pain for you.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

Jung Inho’s voice was strained, but Lee Jaehun didn’t notice and continued.

“I won’t die. And if it looks like I might, I’ll share everything I know before I go.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s a bit surprising, but okay. You might feel guilty. But as you know, there’s no need for that. Does this seem like someone’s unilateral sacrifice? Do I look like that kind of kind person to you?”

“No, but,”

“You already know well, Jung Inho-ssi.”

He spoke directly.

“I’m a bad person.”

“……”

“And you like good people. Even if my actions were fake, you wouldn’t have approved of what I’ve done.”

“…Director.”

“Think about it. When I’ve shared everything and become useless. When my actions are so bad that you can’t remember any help I’ve given. When I have no value or worth, just a burden.”

“Director, let’s stop.”

“If I die then, how would you feel?”

He smiled faintly.

“Wouldn’t everyone feel relieved?”

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