I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell
Chapter 354

The Missing VI

The readers’ fiery wrath that once set SG Net ablaze had faded. The stone tablets announcing the hiatus lay forgotten beneath the East Sea. In an era where no one cared about such things, Corruption had become nothing more than a cheap joke.

Such was the world we lived in.

An author was strolling through the city.

“You know what, mister? When I think about it, I had absolutely no reason to panic.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, this is before the 555th cycle! Before the SG‑Net Novel‑Serialization Board even existed! We’re in the prehistoric, primitive days before I ever debuted under the pen name LiteraryGirl. Which means... can you guess what?”

Dok‑seo laughed.

Considering we’d just pulled an all‑night marathon meeting with the Regressor Alliance—partly to stop Ji‑won from Falling—Dok‑seo’s smile was almost unnaturally fresh.

Under the clear dawn sky, she tipped her forehead toward the light slowly brightening Utopia’s horizon and declared, “I... I am totally, utterly free from serialization now! Ahhh, this air! The sweet nostalgia of Utopia! Mmmm, sooo delicious. Is this what the air of a world without readers smells like? Ooooh! Positively scrumptious!”

“...Right.”

“Wait, no, no. mister! Let’s just dig up the entire Novel Serialization Board. Then, come the 999th cycle, I’ll steal all the chapters Ah-ryeon unnie was publishing and dump them online in one shot! Ka‑yaaah. She’ll see them, right? She’ll probably leave nasty comments without even realizing they were her own words. Then... I’ll capture every last hate post! And reveal, ‘Surprise, that was actually your future manuscript!’ Ka‑hyaaaa! Pure, soda‑pop justice! I can’t wait to see the look on her face!”

I honestly had no idea what kind of face I should be making. Sadly, no abused kid beside me would murmur, “Just smile.” Only a chuunibyou with a lethal case who was busy abusing the whole world.

It was never easy.

---

The takeaway from last night’s meeting was simple:

『Attack Nut.』

Nut, the Night Goddess—an Outer‑God‑class Anomaly.

Her compatibility with a regressor like me was the worst. The Saintess had to Fall and even sacrifice herself just to barely seal her away, and even that was only a seal, nothing more. A method for a complete kill was still nowhere in sight.

“Sorry, sunbae. None of us have ever faced Nut directly, so it’s hard to wrap our heads around it,” said Cheon Yo‑hwa, the older of the twin sisters.

A few days ago, she’d looked lost in deep thought throughout the meeting, but maybe she’d finally sorted it out in her head.

“Haha, honestly, it’s a little overwhelming. You dumped so much future intel on us that my brain’s about to fry.”

“Mhm.”

“Still, overwhelming doesn’t mean bad. From humanity’s point of view, I’d say we’ve never had a more decisive opportunity.” Cheon Yo‑hwa raised her ballpoint pen and clicked. “So, tell me about Nut, sunbae. Like always, let’s craft the op together.”

We talked for a long time, enjoying the whole sunny café we’d rented out to avoid prying ears. Soon enough, I realized something.

‘This kid not only knows the Anomalies inside out, she’s got a deep grasp of my regressor abilities too. Smart.’

I already knew that, of course, but sitting here face‑to‑face hashing out strategies made it crystal clear: the elder Cheon Yo‑hwa was sharp.

“The simplest route is to smack Saintess unnie with Time Seal. Nut would get sealed automatically.”

“...Losing Clairvoyance, Telepathy, and the Constellations would hurt too much.”

“True. But right before you save the world, and after you’ve wiped out every other Outer God except Nut, you could pop Time Seal, right? That’d be the final cycle, the very last moment. We wouldn’t need Saintess unnie anymore.”

She was also resolute. Not a flicker of hesitation, even while discussing a scenario where our comrades might vanish forever.

Did she read the look in my eyes?

Leaning her chin on her pen, Yo‑hwa giggled awkwardly. “Mmm, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. This system that links Outer Gods to their Mikos, maybe it’s tilted way, waaay in your favor, sunbae.”

“...Pick a Miko, Corrupt her, fuse her with the Outer God, then fire off Time Seal.”

“Yup.” She smiled, then continued, “And that’s not all. So far every Miko we know of happens to be clustered in Korea, right? Why? Sure, this land’s always been catnip for cults, but isn’t this a bit much? I’ve got my own theory, but let’s stick to Nut for now. So, sunbae—no chance you’ll seal Nut and Saintess unnie in the final cycle?”

“No chance.”

“Hmm.” Her red eyes narrowed. “Because you’re afraid she’ll get hurt? That’s harsh. You forget e‑ver‑y‑thing about your adorable private student, even call her an Anomaly, but you can’t do the same to Saintess unnie? How’s that not favoritism?”

“...Sorry. It’s not feelings that make me reject that plan.”

“Then what?”

“Just a hunch, but Time Seal isn’t omnipotent.”

I laced my fingers together.

We were broaching a topic I’d discussed with no one, not even with Kim Ji‑soo, Yu Ji‑won’s adopted daughter, who’d later become the psychological counselor for the Regressor Alliance. Maybe the only person I could confess it to was the girl sitting across from me, the one destined to be hit by Time Seal.

“For starters, Yo‑hwa, you yourself proved that Time Seal isn’t absolute.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yeah. Using my quirk of remembering almost nothing from the 1st to the 4th cycles, you managed to regain a good chunk of your identity even inside the sealed realm. Suppose I seal every Miko and Outer God,” I proposed next. “Yo‑hwa, what happens to me after that?”

“You’d become the god of the new world, of course.”

I sprang to my feet and, without a moment’s delay, launched into the Light Bakayaroid Dance.[1]

Yo‑hwa exploded, powerless to resist. She spewed her coffee, hacking and coughing, tears streaming as she laughed her head off.

“Why, ah, pft, ugh, seriously! Gah! So unfair! How old even is that gag?! Why do I have to laugh at something so dumb?! You crazy, geriatric regressor!”

“You’re the one who cracked a joke during a serious discussion. Choose your words carefully if you don’t want this happening again,” I offered in solemn warning.

“Oh. Ohhh, wow. Seriously... Wow, sunbae. You’re a total nutcase. Fine, I, Cheon Yo‑hwa—heir of the House of Cheon—admit it...”

TMI: this heir’s favorite work of all time is Death Note. She’s watched the musical not only in Korea but even on a pilgrimage to Japan. Her best boy is Ryuk, runner‑up is Misa (reason: she looks easy to exploit like a little sister).

“I don’t want all our efforts to end with a single Outer God called ‘The Undertaker.’”

“Oh, come on. Quit it with the serious face—I can’t focus...”

“In the end, it wouldn’t be just Saintess unnie but me too. I’d have to lose my powers. But could we really cherry‑pick so that only Time Seal stays while everything else disappears?”

I had no response to that.

“Even if I disappear, everything about me would vanish. A scenario where only Time Seal remains seems awfully unlikely. So we shouldn’t lean on it too heavily.” Yo‑hwa put down her tear‑soaked tissue.

“Like with Aura?”

“Exactly, like Aura.”

“Hmmm...”

With a click, the cap of her pen snapped shut.

“Then, sunbae, how about flipping it completely on its head?”

“Completely on its head?”

“Yup. You called this cycle your bonus stage, right? Then let’s Corrupt not just the Great Witch but the entire Regressor Alliance.”

What?

“Wait... Yo‑hwa, what are you even saying?”

At last, Yo‑hwa turned fully serious.

“From where I’m standing, you’re kinda scared of using your powers right now. Almost like trauma. The revelation that Aura was part of Leviathan hit you so hard that you’re holding back on your other abilities too... I’m not saying your strategy’s wrong. Just that you should be aware your thinking’s gotten stuck in a rut.”

Yo‑hwa opened her notebook and scribbled a phrase.

Overwhelming power.

I found myself mouthing the words.

“Right,” she confirmed.

“With overwhelming power—”

“Absolutely everything—strategy, tactics, martial arts—becomes meaningless before true overwhelming power,” Yo‑hwa coolly cut off my gag—proof that her learning capacity was intact. “That used to be your specialty. Grind Aura through endless regressions, then steamroll the enemy with that cheat code. Maybe it won’t work in the 999th cycle, but right now it’s still viable.”

“...Because right now, we’re in the special stage that’s both the 173rd cycle and the 1000th cycle.”

Yo‑hwa grinned mischievously. “Exactly. Nut? Unknown, mysterious Anomaly? Scary? Yeah, who cares? Is she stronger than the Great Witch? Maybe. Is she stronger than Oh Dok‑seo, who’s soaking in the Great Witch + Infinite Metagame buffs? Stronger than my sister, who drags out the Great Witch + Oh Dok‑seo + Infinite Void’s authority? Stronger than me, the puppeteer pulling the strings? Stronger than Team Leader Yu Ji‑won, who squeezes Leviathan’s potential to the limit? Stronger than Saintess unnie, who freezes the entire world’s time?”

Her crimson pupils met mine.

“And stronger than the Regressor who commands all those Fallen? Do we really think this mystery Outer God tops our full might?”

The answer was obvious.

“Not a chance.”

A daring smile stole across her face. Instead of cowering before the Anomaly, she faced it with boundless confidence and rock‑solid self‑belief.

Such was the strategist sitting across from me.

“Crush it with brute force, sunbae. Only you can do it. And only in the destined-to-be-forgotten 173rd cycle can we pull off such reckless insanity. Let’s show those Outer‑God bastards—who fancy themselves masters of the universe—what happens when they mess with us.”

My heart pounded.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t fear.

It was closer to a child’s sense of adventure—pure playfulness.

“...You’re out of your mind.”

Yet the corners of my mouth were already curling up.

“Maybe even truly insane. There’s never been a cycle where that many Fallen emerged all at once.”

“Yep,” she chirped. “We might totally get wiped.”

“Even if I call this a ‘bonus stage,’ the ripple effects on past and future events remain unknown. And you want to create the Fallen on purpose, unsealing Anomalies we’ve already defeated or locked away?”

“Yep. Dangerous, huh? One slip and our fallen Regressor Alliance members could start a civil war for control of the timeline. Worse than Rome.”

“And the cleanup?”

“The almighty Regressor will figure it out somehow, right?”

“You’re pitching this as an operation?”

“Yup.” Yo‑hwa’s smile deepened. “But it’s exciting, isn’t it?”

Yeah.

Only now did I truly grasp the core of the girl before me. Calling her a strategist wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t enough. Schemer fit a bit better, yet still missed the mark.

Gambler.

The elder Cheon Yo‑hwa was simply addicted to gambling. Drop her into Romance of the Three Kingdoms, and she’d choose post‑Liu Bei Shu just because “the win‑rate’s lowest and the dopamine’s tastiest.” Thanks to a lucky combo of sisterly love and a brilliant brain, that dopamine addict managed to pass for human.

“Let’s do it, sunbae.”

And who am I to hide it?

“The world’s already doomed. Let’s make it even messier!”

Like teacher, like student.

I’d been sitting at the cosmic poker table called destiny for a long, long time.

The simultaneous Fall of the entire Regressor Alliance.

Project Collapse — COMMENCE.

---

Footnotes:

[1] A meme of the final episode of Death Note, wherein the protagonist’s final, unhinged rant is turned into a dance beat.