Chapter 275

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

──────

The Preacher I

Remember when I led the Mobile Land-Based Aircraft Carrier Fortress City 『BusaN』 and traveled freely around the world?

I’ve mentioned this before, but the Eurasian continental area was full of Forsaken Villages, scattered like Go stones on a board after a game had ended. We had seen countless of them during our journey.

Forsaken Villages. Places where people, in one way or another, fell under the thrall of Anomalies and struggled to survive.

Of course, the residents themselves didn’t call these places Forsaken Villages, but instead referred to them as Pioneer Villages.

“Is there any need to struggle and preserve the vague concept of humanity?”

“It’s better to accept the Void as Earth’s new environment and adapt to it. That’s the only solution!”

“Humankind’s true strength lies in adaptability. Give it thousands, tens of thousands of years, and the next generations will adapt seamlessly to the Void environment.”

That was the logic of Forsaken Village residents.

Like all ideologies, it sounded plausible at first. The purpose was noble. The original concepts and words themselves weren’t at fault.

The fundamental problem was that the Void itself was entirely incompatible with the idea of “adaptation.”

Adaptation. Evolution. They’re nice words, sure. But how exactly could any group truly adapt to the Void?

Let me give you a simple example.

Knock, knock.

Late one night when I was working alone, I would sometimes hear that distinct knocking sound at my door.

“Who is it?”

- It’s me, oppa.

“Oh, Ha-yul.”

It was Lee Ha-yul’s voice.

- Can I come in?

“Sure.”

At that point, I wasn’t particularly worried. Ha-yul often struggled with insomnia and couldn’t sleep alone. When that happened, she would lie crookedly on the sofa or bed in my room, talk endlessly through the night, and eventually doze off peacefully.

I assumed it would be the same this time.

“......?”

But seconds passed, and the door never opened.

That’s when I looked up and stared at the door.

Knock, knock.

The sound echoed again.

Even though there was a sound, the door remained perfectly still. There should have been the faintest vibration, but it didn’t even twitch.

Only the sound of knocking had occurred.

“Ha-yul?”

- It’s me, oppa.

“......”

- Can I come in?

I rose and approached the door.

In case Ha-yul was playing a prank, I cautiously turned the handle, making the door creak as it opened.

There was no one there.

The hallway, without lights to save energy, stretched into complete darkness.

It was then.

Knock, knock, knock.

Knocking echoed in the Void.

- Can I come in?

These phenomena were commonplace in this world.

Even in BusaN, a human stronghold, the Knock Anomaly occurred.

What about Forsaken Villages, then?

...When someone opened the door to their family’s room, an unfamiliar old woman might suddenly appear. It turned out that time had warped, and their daughter had aged into a grandmother.

...Yesterday, there had been four people in the family, but today, one person was missing. And yet, no one could recall who that person was.

...At some point, the food on the table, those hard-earned rations, started to feel unbearably disgusting. Meanwhile, the stench from the sewers below smelled disturbingly appetizing.

No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t adapt. Coexistence with the Void was impossible. The only way to “adapt” was to give up being human.

And so, the fate of Forsaken Villages was sealed.

People justified their actions, claiming they had “pioneered the Void” in their own way. But in truth, their methods were simply hundreds of variations on the theme of “abandoning humanity.”

The universal traits of humanity. Their bodies. Their minds. What parts would they sacrifice?

Is cannibalism a sin? Is incest taboo?

Would they maintain the concept of family? Or would they discard the idea of blood ties entirely?

The Forsaken Villages dismembered humanity piece by piece, dissecting them in a perverse surgical operation. The skill of the proverbial surgeon leading the charge determined the survival of their fellow man. Many Forsaken Villages perished under the amateur scalpel of a quack doctor, while a select few survived.

“You just have to give up being happy.”

Among them, one group stood out.

“Stop trying to be happy. Don’t pursue the good fortune of happiness in a world where happiness is unattainable.”

“Unhappiness. Unhappiness is the only realistic goal that can be achieved in this age. Become realistic beings.”

The Church of Unhappiness.

“When everything is heading toward destruction, there’s nothing left for humans who pursue happiness.”

“Can you eat what you want? No.”

“Can you live as you wish? No.”

“Can you love the person you want to love? No.”

“The more you seek happiness, the more trapped you become. You only realize your own incompetence.”

“But unhappiness?”

“Oh, we can still be much more unhappy.”

The blossom of evil that bloomed in the apocalypse.

“Eat something even more repulsive. You can do it.”

“Live an even more horrific life. You can do it.”

“Hate more, slander more, grow more arrogant, and tear yourself apart even further. We still have enough flesh left for that.”

The teachings of the Church of Unhappiness, which had already been spreading underground before civilization’s collapse, fully bloomed with the apocalypse.

Unlike the Eastern Holy State’s Mo Gwang-seo Faith or New Buddhism, this cult was of a different breed.

Those other two cults at least involved Anomalies. Mo Gwang-seo, the Anomaly of Resurrection Christ, and Udumbara, which bore the World Tree. Even when taking their successes into account, Anomalies still made up half of their identity.

The Church of Unhappiness was different.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Failure doesn’t matter. In fact, fail over and over again.”

“When others despair at failure, we see failure itself as success.”

“The effort to become more unhappy is the only freedom we have.”

The Church of Unhappiness was purely, entirely a creation of humanity.

This meant it wasn’t a target I, the Undertaker, needed to exterminate. And yet, my ties with the Church of Unhappiness were anything but trivial.

Long before I crossed the Ural Mountains and explored countless Forsaken Villages, I was already well-acquainted with this particular branch of humanity.

The 500th cycle? No. Even further back.

The 200th cycle? Earlier still.

The 10th cycle? Unbelievably, even before that.

[Seo Gyu: Damn it, what the hell is this? This is fucking garbage.]

[Lee Jae-hee: My phone's not working?]

[Uehara Shino: Too many people. Can't breathe.]

[Park Ye-dam: I need to contact my boss...]

Back in the concourse of Busan Station, my point of origin, I turned on Mind Reading a couple of times and peered into the thoughts of the people around me. If your memory serves you well, you might recall the following characters from those moments:

[Lee Baek: What’s going on? Where’d everyone go?]

[Go Yuri: O̷̹͑h̴̢̞͊͂ ̴̧̌͝m̶̘̍̾y̴̢͖̿̓.̴̝̈́̍.̷̦̽͠.̶͖̈́̈]

[Jung So-hee: Reverend? Where did you go, Reverend?]

[Sim Ah-ryeon: Where am I? Who am I?]

Let’s pause here.

By now, I’m sure you know quite a bit about Seo Gyu, Go Yuri, and Sim Ah-ryeon.

I’ve also shared snippets about Lee Baek and Uehara Shino. Lee Baek was a thug who rallied survivors using his Lion’s Roar ability, and Uehara opened an alchemy workshop after moving to Japan, she was a former comrade of mine.

[Jung So-hee: Reverend? Where did you go, Reverend?]

And now, let’s talk about today’s focus: Jung So-hee.

From the way she called out for a “reverend” the moment she landed in the Tutorial Dungeon, it was clear she was deeply immersed in a cult. Specifically, she belonged to the Church of Unhappiness.

Her job class was Zealot.

There’s no point in hiding it now.

Before the 5th cycle, Jung So-hee was one of my “Original Party Members.”

https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

My original party members had one thing in common: at first, they seemed competent, but as time went on, they became utterly useless.

The same went for Jung So-hee.

“I’m a water-type ability user.”

“Oh? So, like a water jet that shoots out? Or maybe you summon water spirits, like Undine?”

“No. It’s... just tap water.”

Drip.

When Jung So-hee raised a finger, water trickled down from thin air.

By today’s standards, her ability would be laughed off as pathetic. It wasn’t all that different from what an ordinary person could do. But in the early days, things were completely different. Back then, Jung So-hee was absolutely essential to our party.

Why? The answer was simple.

“By the way, it’s clean, first-grade water. It even tastes good.”

“Wow, that’s incredible, So-hee!”

“Yes! With this, we don’t have to worry about drinking water anymore!”

In the Tutorial Dungeon, there wasn’t even enough water to drink, let alone bathe.

Fire wasn’t much of an issue. Many people brought lighters when they were summoned into the dungeon, and there were lighters for sale in the station’s souvenir shops.

But drinking water? That was a different story.

Without my intervention, it took the girls from Baekhwa Girls’ High over five years to clear the dungeon—five years by the dungeon’s internal time flow, anyway.

The Busan Station Tutorial Dungeon was no different. If anything, it was even harder than Baekhwa High’s dungeon.

Without me, a regressor, there would have been zero survivors. Not a single one. The dungeon was essentially impossible to clear.

“W-water... Wateeer...”

A true hellscape.

From the outside, only a week passed. But inside the Tutorial Dungeon, three months might go by.

In an environment completely cut off from the outside world, finding a stable supply of food and water was impossible. Starvation and dehydration were rampant. The only way to survive was to clear the quests given by the Tutorial Fairy and receive rewards—at the risk of your own life, of course.

“Here’s today’s water supply.”

Under those circumstances, Jung So-hee’s Tap Water ability was a lifesaver for our party.

“Thank you, So-hee.”

“It’s nothing. This is my role, after all. Undertaker, you should drink first.”

“Are you sure?”

“If something happens, you and Jae-hee are the only ones who can fight. I’ll drink last.”

Jung So-hee could produce about four liters of water per day, roughly two bottles’ worth. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep us alive.

At the time, our party consisted of four members: myself, Uehara Shino, Lee Jae-hee, and Jung So-hee—

[404 - Not Found]

No. There were five of us.

Someone else had been with us. ■■■, the person erased from my memory by Time Seal, was likely my very first comrade.

But now, I couldn’t remember them.

Even my memories of Jung So-hee were incomplete. The memories I’m recounting now only surfaced faintly after the 688th cycle, when I defeated the Mastermind.

After Infinite Void tampered with my mind, implanting memories of me teaching the Cheon Yo-hwa twin sisters, I began to recall fragmented pieces of my past.

[404 - Not Found]

[404 - Not Found]

The static of those missing pieces blocked me from truly recalling them. As a result, even these memories might have been manipulated by Infinite Void.

“I can drink later. It’s fine.”

In those memories, Jung So-hee was always someone who put others before herself. Not to say she came off as “pathetic.” It was more of a natural aura that radiated from her, as though she had consciously chosen to lower herself.

In the Tutorial Dungeon, where trust was a luxury and betrayal was rampant, her selflessness was incredibly rare.

“Thank you... Really.”

“You’re welcome.”

Even the twisted version of myself from back then couldn’t help but feel grateful to her.

With time, most of the raiders—those who risked their lives to clear the quests—had perished. The support groups that helped them from the rear were also torn apart, fighting like mad dogs over the few remaining resources.

We hit rock bottom. The lowest of the low.

“Undertaker.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you unhappy right now?”

It was then that Jung So-hee made her move.

As if she had been waiting for this very moment—for this hell to unfold.

With a smile carved from kindness, she approached me.

“Would you like to hear the ‘good word’ from me, just for a moment?”

I found out later.

From the very beginning, Jung So-hee had joined our party with the intent of spreading the misfortune of unhappiness to me.

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