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

──────

The Preacher II

In life, as you come to meet various groups of people, you inevitably come across all kinds of stories. Some are so embarrassing that you’re left doubting whether a human even spoke the tale while others are surprisingly profound, making you marvel at how their tellers manage to remain human despite everything.

But as for me, the Undertaker—

Since I’ve lived a far longer life than most, I’ve collected an endless array of statements. Even then, though, Jung So-hee’s words were extraordinary, unique to the point where an ordinary person was liable to never hear them even once in their lifetime.

“I sense talent in you, Undertaker.”

“What kind of talent?”

“?”

What the hell kind of nonsense was this?

Nevertheless, So-hee’s expression remained serious as she said, “Just as athleticism, intelligence, and other exceptional abilities require talent, so does unhappiness. And to me, your talent for unhappy misfortunes is... First-rate. Maybe even beyond that.”

“??”

Was she trying to mess with me?

Yet, So-hee was always kind. She wasn’t the type to spout gibberish for no reason. Most importantly, she provided us with something so precious as water in the Tutorial Dungeon.

This is why one’s actions matter. Even when someone throws a verbal bomb like, “You have the face of someone destined for misery,” you might hold back your anger, at least in that instance, to hear them out.

“I’m sorry, So-hee, but I don’t understand your point. If you’re not feeling well—”

“All humans are unwell,” So-hee interrupted.

It startled me. Such interruptions were rare from her.

“The human body is always teeming with bacteria. The mind is no different,” she explained. “Even those who appear happiest often have dormant mental bacteria. And these bacteria, when the time is right, manifest as what we call ‘unhappiness.’”

“......”Nôv(el)B\\jnn

“Eliminating all bacteria in your body doesn’t make you healthy. Unhappiness works the same way. The real key lies in managing it, in deciding how actively to take control of your unhappiness.”

You know, it’s funny. Those tasked with proselytizing in cults often turn out to be surprisingly well-read or, at the very least, highly articulate. They are often elite individuals within their organizations, well-versed in “common sense” to appeal to the masses. Naturally, without this skill, it would be difficult to win people over.

If I did—as So-hee claimed—possess a talent for unhappy misfortunes, then she certainly had the makings of a first-class cult preacher.

“I know this might sound strange. But do you think I’ve ever shared these thoughts with anyone else? Even once?”

“No... You haven’t...”

So-hee had spent an entire year in the Tutorial Dungeon as part of my party. During that time, she had consistently dedicated herself as a comrade.

She allowed that fact to settle in, giving the silence before her next statement weight. “Exactly. I’m sharing this only with you, Undertaker. Because you alone have the depth of heart to genuinely understand me.”

“......”

Target selection.

Not only had So-hee waited for a year, but she had also kept her true motives hidden from everyone.

For a predator, the success or failure of the hunt depends on how precisely they choose their prey. A beast that chases two rabbits is no lion.

So-hee had singled me out from over 500 survivors in the Tutorial Dungeon, just me. And she approached with intent.

“Of course, if this makes you uncomfortable, I’ll never bring it up again,” she offered.

“No, it’s not that.”

Another weighty silence. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

Jung So-hee accumulated the illusion of debt.

In the earlier cycles, I had a cold and indifferent personality. I rejected anyone who tried to approach me. But how could I remain entirely aloof from a comrade who had lived through near-death experiences with me, who always offered me water first?

That’s right. To put it crudely, I, a regressor, had been gaslit by an SSS-class cult preacher.

“I’m so glad I chose to follow you as our leader.”

What else could I do?

Ignorance comes with a price.

https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

“Let me teach you a mantra that brings peace of mind.”

“Hmm.”

It feels wrong to frame Jung So-hee as solely responsible for everything up until now. I do have some shame, after all. It wasn’t entirely her fault. Obviously, much of the blame lay with me.

And the root of it? The fact that my mind had grown weak.

[404 - Not Found]

I suspect that the mysterious X, the person erased from my memory, must have been a significant psychological anchor for me.

And at some point in one of the cycles, X must have died.

There was no helping it. The Busan Station Tutorial Dungeon was never designed for humans to clear.

Struggling until the very end to beat the dungeon likely shattered my mental fortitude, undoubtedly due to X’s death.

“Now, Undertaker. Close your eyes and repeat after me.”

“......”

“It’s not because of me.”

The moment my defenses were down, So-hee exploited the opportunity.

“It’s not... because of me.”

“It’s not my mistake, either.”

“It’s not my mistake, either.”

“It’s all the fault of the Anomalies.”

“It’s all the fault of the Anomalies.”

“Good job.”

And as embarrassing as it is to admit, her advice genuinely helped me at the time.

“Take a deep breath with me. Inhale for six seconds, hold it for three. Then exhale loudly for eight seconds. Fwoooooo.”

“Fwoooooo...”

“Perfect! That was excellent!”

Like many successful cults, the Church of Unhappiness incorporated genuinely effective psychological techniques into its practices.

I learned meditation from So-hee. I learned how to calm my mind.

For the first time in my life, which had been nothing but an endless sprint, I took time to pause and empty myself.

“Imagine defeating Fairy No. 264.”

The problem, of course, was that So-hee filled the empty spaces in my mind with poison.

“As your imagination becomes clearer, it will turn into reality. Undertaker. You’ve already defeated Fairy No. 264. Do you see? This isn’t just imagination anymore. You’ve already succeeded.”

“......”

“How do you feel?”

“Relieved.”

“Have you felt relief even once in recent days?”

I hesitated. “No.”

“Emotions are physical. Just as unused muscles atrophy, so do feelings when neglected for too long.” Then, she gently whispered, “You killed Fairy No. 264. You protected your comrades. You saved the people trapped unjustly in the Busan Station concourse.”

“......”

“I’m so proud of you, Undertaker. Please, take care of yourself a little more. Hug yourself. Pat your own back. Don’t be embarrassed! We’re just reviving the emotions, sensations, and body we’ve always had.”

Here’s the ironic part.

Not only did So-hee’s methods help my mental health, they also dramatically strengthened my Aura.

It was an uncanny coincidence. After all, Aura is the power to impose yourself upon the world. To project your inner wounds onto the external reality.

I’ll delve deeper into Aura later, but for now, one thing is clear: my time with So-hee significantly enhanced it.

“This is really helping. I’m sorry I doubted you at first, So-hee.”

“...It’s nothing.”

Looking back now, I think even So-hee was caught off guard by how rapidly my Aura grew. Something like, ‘This wasn’t supposed to happen...’

Had I been able to use Mind Reading, I might have heard her thoughts:

[So-hee: Why is his Aura growing? I don’t get it. This is terrifying...]

At the time, though, I lacked Mind Reading and sufficient regression data, so I enthusiastically shared So-hee’s methods with other survivors.

Before long, a cult centered around her, the Busan Branch of the Church of Unhappiness, had formed.

“Alright, brothers and sisters. Close your eyes and follow along with me. The reason I am unhappy is because of my family.”

“The reason I am unhappy is because of my family!”

Before long, it became a daily sight in Busan, hundreds of followers echoing So-hee’s sermons during her gatherings.

“I am unconditionally a valuable being.”

“I am unconditionally a valuable being!”

“The reason I am unhappy is because the world is wrong.”

“The reason I am unhappy is because the world is wrong!”

“Those who ignore and criticize me are not human.”

“Those who ignore and criticize me are not human!”

“A world full of such people disgusts me.”

“A world full of such people disgusts me!”

“Yes, that’s it. Very good, brothers and sisters. The world is disgusting, and humans are filthy. But we, who despise others together, are special beings!” So-hee proclaimed, clenching her fist in triumph.

Unlike other cult leaders, she didn’t rely on elaborate or luxurious attire to assert her authority. Instead, she wore patched-together rags, clothing pieced from the remains of deceased followers.

For me, at least, this image was strangely more persuasive.

“We are special!”

“We are special!”

“Those who can rage at Anomalies and despise humans possess a rare virtue. However, keeping such emotions bottled up can rot the heart. That’s why we must always share our hatred for Anomalies and our contempt for humanity with our brothers and sisters. Now, let us rage together!”

“Aaaaaah!”

The assembly erupted into screams.

First-timers were always a bit awkward, but with repetition, even they started venting their imaginary rage as if it were real.

I later learned that So-hee borrowed this method from George Orwell’s 1984, specifically the concept of Two Minutes Hate.

For reference, 1984 was published in 1949—proof that the world hasn’t changed much over the decades.[1]

“Louder! Let your frustrations roar! Show the world that you, and only you, are special!”

When So-hee spread her arms wide, rain began to fall inside the assembly hall.

Just as my Aura had grown stronger, So-hee’s abilities had evolved—from Tap Water to Localized Rainstorm.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

The cultists danced and screamed under the rain.

Among them were regular people who didn’t truly believe in the Church of Unhappiness but attended just to receive the “free water” from above. These pseudo-believers, fearful of being exposed, ended up overcompensating by passionately acting out their rage.

Naturally, just as the rain seeped into their skin, the doctrine of the Church of Unhappiness began to infiltrate their minds.

For what it’s worth, the water tasted good.

Rage against the ruined world. Contempt for humanity. The logic that unhappiness, unlike happiness, could be controlled. The free water. So-hee’s kind smile and soothing voice...

Together, these factors caused the Church of Unhappiness to grow exponentially.

“So-hee.”

“Yes, Undertaker?”

Even at this point, I held no suspicion toward So-hee. Or rather, when doubts did occasionally arise, I scolded myself for thinking poorly of her.

I had been completely and utterly gaslit.

Which is why, in the end, I confessed my secret.

“I’m sorry. There’s something I haven’t told you until now.”

“It’s alright. Just the fact that you feel remorse proves you’re far superior to the shameless people around us.”

“Still, I think I need to tell you. Um. The truth is... I’m a regressor.”

“What?” So-hee’s eyes grew wide. Her squirrel-like pupils were transparent, reflecting nothing but sincerity.

But as I explained further, laying out the details of my regression and the certainty of my identity, something else, something unfamiliar, began to flicker in her gaze.

“......”

I could not understand what that flicker meant, but I knew the name she gave it.

“Reverend.”

Her lips parted to say it.

“What?” I asked.

“Reverend.”

A strange fire burned in So-hee’s eyes as she looked at me. She grasped my hand firmly.

This was unusual. Normally, So-hee avoided physical contact, even passing water indirectly.

“Ah... So you were my reverend all along.”

“......”

“Now, I’m certain. Yes, I heard the voice. It’s unmistakable.”

The fire in her eyes burned brighter, but my heart froze as if doused in ice water. Her palm radiated warmth, and yet that warmth felt utterly foreign to me.

“You are the savior who will shoulder all the world’s misfortunes.”

It was at that moment that I began to suspect it.

That So-hee was not a benefactor who had saved me from despair but the one who might drag me into its deepest abyss.

Footnotes:

[1] In 1984, Two Minutes Hate is a daily period in which citizens are mandated to watch a film about enemies of the state and to vent their personal, existential hatred for such political dissenters. These “enemies of the state” are non-existent and created by the government to sow blind loyalty in its citizenry, one of the many real-world phenomena that Orwell warned against all the way back when he wrote the book in 1949 yet that still occur today.