Potato I
To be honest, I had quite a bit of conflict when introducing the last story. It was a clash between the editor and the original author. Oh Dok-seo and I had sharply differing opinions.
âOh Dok-seo insisted, âNo matter what, [the Admin of the Infinite Metagame] story must be placed at the very end!ââ
When I asked why, she said:
âMister, are you stupid? Itâs for symmetry. Symmetry. You canât resist the beauty of ending a work with the exact same sentence it started with.â
âHmm.â
While there was some merit to that aesthetic, it had more drawbacks than advantages.
âDrawbacks? What drawbacks? Symmetry is unbeatable and divine. There are only advantages.â
âDok-seo, Iâm a regressor. If the novel starts and ends the same way, it could create an anomaly where it endlessly repeats from the beginning.â
ââ¦Ah.â
I sipped my coffee.
âIt might emphasize that this novel is about infinite regression. However, it would counteract the goal of escaping the fate of regression.â
There was another reason. I had decided to be as honest as possible with all of you. So I didnât want to hide the circumstances under which I decided to write this story, my âlife storyâ as I call it, until the novel's ending. If I were to hide something, it would only be to subdue an anomaly. Other than that, I am entirely open with you.
âIndeed⦠Your goal is to make regression unnecessary. Symmetry could turn into an infinite ouroboros, causing harm. Wow, you really have to consider every detailâ¦â
âThank you for understanding my dilemma.â
That wasnât my only concern. Every story had its own issues, sometimes related to personal privacy. In such cases, I generally asked the person involved for permission. For example, I sought approval from the Saintess in the 800th cycle for an incident that happened in the 600th cycle.
Todayâs story was no different. The protagonist of this story was the Saintess. So, I explained everything to her beforehand and asked for her permission.
ââ¦Did that really happen?â
âYes, it did. Hard to believe, but true. So, may I write about it?â
âWell⦠Yes. Since writing the novel itself acts as a weight suppressing the anomaly. If I can help, itâs fine.â
The Saintess rarely hesitated, but she did this time. After a brief silence, she whispered cautiously. Her voice seemed to tremble, though it might have been my imagination.
ââ¦Mr. Undertaker, are you sure?â
It really happened. One day, I was going about my usual regressor routine when I received a telepathic message from the Saintess.
[Mr. Undertaker, Iâm sorry, but can we postpone this week's study session to tomorrow?]
âPardon? Oh, yes, thatâs fine.â
For reference, the Saintess and I had a study session every Wednesday. We mainly read philosophy books. It was a tradition that started in the 63rd cycle.
âNothingâs wrong, is it?â
[No, everythingâs fine. Thank you for asking.]
âAlright then, as long as everything is fine.â
I said it casually, but I was a bit surprised. The Saintess once insisted on holding the study session right after subduing the Meteor Shower, saying, âItâs Wednesday today. Letâs study.â Thatâs how serious she was about our study sessions. But now she wanted to postpone it? Did the concept of âpostponing timeâ exist for the Saintess?
[Mr. Undertaker, Iâm really sorry. Can we postpone the study session to tomorrow again?]
To my astonishment, she asked to reschedule again the next day! My expression became very serious. This was unprecedented. Iâd sooner believe that Sim Ah-ryeon quit social media than this.
âSaintess, are you sure everything is alright? This is the first time youâve postponed a study session twice in a row.â
[â¦â¦.]
âIn my experience, unprecedented events are almost always related to anomalies. If you donât provide a satisfactory explanation, I must assume the worstâthat an anomaly has possessed you.â
[No⦠Um, no. Okay. Youâre the expert. It might be better to rely on you.]
âWhere are you now? What happened?â
[Thatâs a very difficult question to explain.]
The Saintess, who found explaining Kantâs transcendental idealism âeasy,â admitted difficulty.
[Please come to my house.]
I went. The Saintessâs house in Yongsan always had a pleasant aquatic smell. Various sizes of fish tanks filled with tropical fish were everywhere. However, algae had begun to form on the once crystal-clear glass walls of the tanks. This was odd. The Saintess, who even used chopsticks to eat potato chips, allowed algae in her tanks?
âSomething is definitely wrong!â
I clenched my fist.
âWhere are you, Saintess?â
[Come to the kitchen.]
I went. The kitchen was modest, suitable for someone living alone. A small table designed for a single person, never intended for two. In the middle of the table sat an unexpected itemâa potato.
ââ¦â¦?â
Yes. A single potato was there. It seemed random, but I ignored it. More pressing matters were at hand.
[Mr. Undertaker, thank you for coming all this way.]
âOh, itâs nothing. But where are you? Youâre not hiding, are you?â
[Iâm here.]
The Saintess could send telepathy as both voice and text. This time, it was text.
[ â â â ]
[ â â â ]
[ â â â ]
I followed her directions. And there it wasâa potato.
ââ¦â¦?â
[Yes, Iâm here.]
I tilted my head. As if equipped with a sensor, the potato rolled following my gaze.
ââ¦â¦???â
[Here.]
I tilted my head the other way. The potato rolled again, following my gaze. I performed a sanity check. The dice in my mind rolled, and I succeeded. Realization struck me like a lightning bolt.
ââ¦Saintess?â
[Yes.]
âPlease tell me this isnât true.â
The potato performed an amazing feat. It rolled in place, then stopped upright. This was âstanding.â According to potato behavior studies, this slight nod corresponded to a âbow.â What the hell.
[Sorry. Iâve turned into a potato.]
The Saintess had turned into a potato.
Despite the bizarre development of âa comrade turning into a potato,â I maintained my composure. Even for a regressor who had picked countless deaths, this was not easy.
[Thank you for helping. I tried to handle it alone, but I kept worrying about not being able to feed the fish.]
ââ¦â¦.â
Does a potato have feelings? I suppressed my scholarly urge to ask. That wasnât easy either. I cleaned the fish tanks and fed the tropical fish for her. After the chores, I calmly had a one-on-one conversation with the Saintess. Well, I placed a cushion on the table, put the potato on it, and matched its gaze. Where exactly was the potatoâs gaze? Moreover, the potato had sprouted eyes that were blue, reflecting the Saintessâs hair color. I couldnât hold back any longer.
âSaintess, Iâm not sure if this is appropriate, but⦠How did you turn into a potato?â
[Itâs likely due to an anomalyâs curse.]
Of course, it was an anomalyâs doing.
[I believe Iâm under a curse.]
Naturally, it was a curse.
[I want to assure you that my mind and consciousness are intact. The anomaly seems to only affect my physical form.]
âWhatâs the cause? Did you visit a forbidden place, or anger the spirits by burning hundreds of potatoes in a bonfire?â
[No. I did have a bug fly into my eye during a walk a few days ago.]
âA bug in your eye?â
[Yes, just a flying insect. Aside from that minor incident, thereâs no obvious cause.]
It was maddening. To cut to the chase, even as an experienced regressor, I couldnât cure the Saintessâs potato state. Four days of attempts all failed. Donât blame my incompetence. No regressor from any story could have solved it.
[Mr. Undertaker, itâs okay.]
Surprisingly, the one who should be most upset was the calmest. Although she had no head to lose or legs to leap, the Saintess was too composed. Speaking from my shoulder bag, the potato Saintess said:
[Acting as a constellation, monitoring awakeners, and sending telepathy all function normally.]
âExcuse me, but your current form raises serious doubts about the concept of normal.â
[So far, no issues have arisen.]
Indeed. Remarkably, even in this state, she continued her âconstellation dutiesâ as usual. I became the first human in history to feel respect for a potato. Not a title I wished to hold.
âAny discomfort?â
[No. Just help with my fish occasionally. Oh, andâ¦]
The potato peeked out of the bag. How? I had no idea.
[My body feels a bit dry.]
ââ¦Well, you are a potato.â
[No, I mean it craves soil, water, and sunlight. Itâs hard to explain, but I feel it. Could you help?]
âHmm.â
At this point, my mind finally snapped. Those who knew me well knew that when I reached my limit, I let go. If you canât avoid it, enjoy it. If you canât enjoy it, pass it on.
âOf course, Iâll help.â
Enjoying mode, ON. I immediately took the potato Saintess to Noh Do-hwa, the head of management.
âWhat the hell is thisâ¦?â
Noh Do-hwaâs expression, after hearing the whole story, was priceless. It was so priceless that you could make a webtoon just to showcase it. Seeing her facial muscles twitch made my troubles feel lighter. After all, why should I suffer alone?
âThis is the Saintess? Really? Undertaker, you expect me to believe this?â
âThe Saintessâs telepathic messages in your head are proof.â
âWhy⦠Why does this crazy stuff happenâ¦?â
âWe donât know the cause either. More importantly, Noh Do-hwa, your skill is [Prosthetic Creation], right?â
Noh Do-hwa frowned deeply. Being a civil servant, the phrase âYouâre good at making PPTs, right?â made her eyebrows twitch.
âYes, andâ¦?â
âYour prosthetics move like real limbs. The Saintess is still an awakener. If you make prosthetics for the potatoâ¦ân/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
âSo now you want me to make potato prosthetics? Do you want to die?â
âWhy? Are you a potato hater?â
âNo, you idiot. How am I supposed to make prosthetics for a potatoâ¦?â
She made it. After 15 days of work, the Saintessâs custom prosthetics were born. They resembled the StarCraft Goliath or the tripods from Spielbergâs War of the Worlds. Either way, it was too futuristic for modern humans. A sleek body with robotic arms and legs, with a potato seated inside.
âSaintess, how does it feel? Does it move like your limbs?â
[Just a moment.]
Creakâ
Amazingly, the robotic limbs moved properly. The âpotato robotâ could walk bipedally.
[Yes, it moves well.]
âWow!â
I cheered in the lab. It was emotional. What biologist could have guessed that the next species to master bipedalism after primates would be potatoes?
âNoh Do-hwa, itâs a success! This is a groundbreaking discovery for humanity!â
[Thank you so much, Ms. Noh Do-hwa. Thanks to you, I can live normally.]
ââ¦â¦â
Despite our heartfelt gratitude, Noh Do-hwa remained silent. Her eyes were lifeless.
âDamn it, you still expect me to believe youâre not anomalies but real humansâ¦?â
âOf course. Who else cares for people like we do?â
âDamn. Youâre definitely anomaliesâ¦â
Creakâ Creakâ While Noh Do-hwa and I talked, the Saintess continually tested the robotic joints.
[Hmm.]
The potato Saintess wobbled slightly. Maybe it was just my imagination, but she seemed very pleased.
Footnotes:
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