Chapter 118

Agonizer

Let’s recount a short anecdote about Old Man Scho.

“Hey, Embalmer.”

“……”

As I’ve mentioned before, Old Man Scho often called me “Embalmer.” This was because my alias was Undertaker, a profession involved in embalming the dead.

The saying “It’s not what you say but how you say it” fits perfectly here.

He called me “Em-balm-er” instead of “Em-balmer” with a slight change in the vowel sound, but in Old Man Scho’s highly developed Korean pronunciation, it had a ring that resembled “damn.”

This proved that Old Man Scho’s mental state hadn’t matured past infancy. By giving people nasty nicknames and using them in front of others, he was trying to assert his power over them.

In the eternal election between the goodness of human nature and the bad, today, the latter gained another precious vote.

“Embalmer. Why don’t you answer? Did you donate your tongue to a beggar? Hey, you shouldn’t mess with beggars like that.”

“Damn…”

“Hey, Embalmer. I’m pleased to see you understanding the Parthenon Temple’s maxim to ‘Know thyself,’ but why do you belittle yourself like that? Do you still claim to be a regressor? All human values are equal. Though you may be a damned bastard, you’re still an embalmer, not a plague.”

Who taught this old German native-level Korean?

Truly, that person must be an incredible language instructor. If I could identify them, I’d love to visit and give them a polite stab.

“So, what is it? What new nonsense are you planning this time?”

“You remember better than I do. That kid.”

Old Man Scho pointed to someone.

A child, about five years old. A girl was playing, running around with her young parents who owned a bakery in Haeundae, Busan.

Old Man Scho spoke.

“Last cycle, that kid was a boy.”

“……”

“The couple’s child changes with each cycle. The child that should have been born to that couple disappeared. Isn’t that right?”

That wasn’t all. Though I hadn’t told Old Man Scho, I remembered precisely. With each cycle, the couple’s child always changed.

In the 18th cycle, it was a boy, and in the 17th cycle, it was also a boy but looked different. In the 11th cycle, they had twins. The timing of pregnancy and birth varied subtly. Not once did the same child appear in any cycle.

“So, what is your point? Why ask this all of a sudden?”

“Think about it, doc.”

When talking seriously, Old Man Scho would call me doc instead of Embalmer.

“Every time we regress, the children who existed in the previous world disappear entirely.”

“…Not all of them.”

“Right. Those lives unaffected by our butterfly effect remain. But since the Ten Legs was exterminated, I’ve noticed more lives I’ve never seen before.”

“Many felt it was safe to settle in Korea after the Ten Legs was exterminated, which is natural.”

“Don’t pretend not to understand. That’s not my point. I’m saying there are children whose existence is erased entirely due to our regressions! Their memories, their beings. Everything! Except for you, who remembers everything!”

“……”

“I worry that the unintended butterfly effect I cause might be doing something terrible to those little children.”

Old Man Scho’s old face was filled with an indescribable guilt.

I later learned that the Schopenhauer couple had once lost a child to miscarriage. Old Man Scho projected his wounds onto the ‘disappeared lives’ every time a cycle passed.

Maybe that’s why Old Man Scho decided to take a ‘vacation.’

To erase his traces, to not interfere at all with the lives that were yet to be born, so their existence wouldn’t be erased meaninglessly.

“Hmm.”

“…What’s with that irritating expression?”

“Nothing. Just…”

But my thoughts were different. Not just thoughts, my feelings too.

Perhaps this was when Old Man Scho and I were destined to part ways.

Because I didn’t feel any guilt towards those 'disappeared lives.'

Of course, I felt regret and sorrow.

For instance, the child Old Man Scho pointed out had once given me bread, following her parents in making rice donuts. They made too many and ended up giving me some as a gift.

“Hyung! Ah-ah!”

The child's laughter, the hand that put the donut in my mouth, the stooping of my back to receive the child’s touch, the stickiness of the sugar coating too thick on the rice donut, my reaction of ‘Wow, this is really delicious!’ and the shy greetings of the child's parents.

All memories that remained with me.

Yes, I admit it.

I will never again receive a sugar donut from Jeong Seo-ah, the five-year-old girl from the Haeundae bakery, who wanted to make bread because her parents were so cool.

Not only Jeong Seo-ah, countless losses—tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands—cling to a regressor's years.

Shadows exist not only in space but also in time, and we call those shadows memories. The longest-lived human, me, bore the deepest shadows.

But my heart’s emotions were sorrow, wistfulness, longing.

I can say unequivocally that they were not guilt.

To begin with, the subjects of my guilt were limited.

Mostly to the tombstones I had sealed with Time Seal. That is, only those whom I had buried forever.

“Old man, I told you last time.”

“Huh? What?”

“You know, you wondered if we erase existences every time we regress because the children born in each cycle are different.”

“Huh? When did I say that…? Oh, oh, that?”

Old Man Scho glared at me.

“What a crazy bastard.”

“……?”

“You damned bastard! That was more than three cycles ago! Why do you talk like it was yesterday? You’re trying to make me look like a forgetful old man on purpose, aren’t you?”

Old Man Scho fumed. It took three minutes to calm him down.

So, I couldn’t bring up the joke, “Didn’t you once tell me not to use the word ‘plague’ on people? Why the change?” When dealing with someone much older, you have to yield a lot.

“Doc, if you don’t fix that nasty habit, you’ll get in big trouble one day.”

“Indeed. Hearing that from an old man whose whole body is infested with crazy cells suddenly makes me vigilant.”

“Why is your tongue getting sharper every day…? Embalmer! Where did your innocent old self disappear to?”

“Who knows. Probably dragged away by Germans, gassed, and died.”

“You racist bastard! My family supported the Social Democrats since the Imperial era! My ancestors were arrested too!”

“Yeah, no matter how much a white man frames a yellow man with racism, it doesn’t work? Anyway, old man, I thought long and hard about what you said, but I disagree.”

We were walking along Haeundae Beach.

Once a symbol of vacation in Korea. The jewel named civilization that humanity lost seemed to have stolen everything from here. The water-colored sand held a blue emerald.

“If lives disappear every time we regress, conversely, new lives that couldn’t have been born before are created because of us.”

“…Huh?”

“If there were no regressions, the humans born at this moment would have been predetermined. But the stronger the butterfly effect we cause, the farther it spreads, and entirely different possibilities briefly see the world.”

“……”

“Of course, it’s not a good world. Every generation complains they were born in the worst times, but now it’s really the worst except for the Ice Age. Still, I think it’s better to be here briefly and pass through life than to remain in the bottomless abyss of nothingness.”

Crunch. The sand under my shoes made a sound.

“And do we regress because we like it? It’s the damned anomalies’ fault. The ones who should feel guilty are those anomalies. Why should we bear the world’s destruction?”

“Hah.”

“Old man. In my opinion, there’s no need to feel guilty about the departed lives, nor claim credit for the new ones. The resolve to prevent world destruction is already a heavy burden on us. Adding nonexistent responsibilities to it would only break our backs unnecessarily.”

“……”

“If you feel you must be guilty, that too is a resolve, so I won’t stop you, but you should feel just as much joy for the new lives.”

“……”

“As I am not a great person, I choose not to feel both guilt and joy for new lives, as I can’t bear both.”

The sound of waves, sand, and footsteps continued for a long time.

So, I had just advised Old Man Scho not to be too sad.

“The boy who couldn’t understand a single line of the Analects has grown so wise.”

Like an old sea spewing waves, a sigh flowed from Old Man Scho’s mouth.

“Indeed. Having the courage to possess something is difficult, but even more difficult is the courage to abandon it. Doc, maybe you are more suitable as a regressor than I am.”

I couldn’t easily agree with that soliloquy.

But one thing was certain: my words didn’t offer much comfort. As you know, Old Man Scho eventually went on a vacation with his beloved wife.

I still didn’t agree with Old Man Scho’s assertion.

It was just that seeing Sim Ah-ryeon smiling with 1-bit graphics made me wonder for a moment if I was doing something terrible to other children.

“Hey, mister!”

It was then, while walking along the beach.

“Hmm?”

“Ah-ah!”

A small boy came running, thrusting a rice donut towards me. Looking over the boy’s shoulder, I saw a familiar bakery couple smiling cautiously.

I immediately understood the situation.

“Ah-ah!”

“……”

I compared the boy in front of me to Jeong Seo-ah, the little girl I met thousands of years ago in the 19th cycle.

Their appearances were entirely different.

But surprisingly, the taste of the rice donut I bit into, including the overly thick sugar coating, was remarkably similar.

My eyes widened. I chewed the donut, savoring its taste.

“How is it? Delicious?”

“…Delicious. Really, very delicious. You could be a bakery owner.”

The boy giggled and ran back to his parents’ embrace, leaving a trail of sand grains in the air.

As I left Haeundae with light steps, a peculiar sense of incongruity stopped me.

‘Wait, didn’t the little girl in the 19th cycle call me hyung?’

In terms of pure timing, excluding cycles, I was a year younger now.

‘So why did he call me mister…?’

Hmm.

…Come to think of it, maybe Jeong Seo-ah’s rice donuts were tastier.

Footnotes:

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