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

Discord: https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

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

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The Merger I

The 690th regression cycle had finally arrived.

And if you’ve been paying close attention to my tale, you’d already know that every fifth or tenth cycle, I’d take a “vacation.” What’s there to hide?

“I feel like I’m in desperate need of a break lately.”

“...”

“Mmph! Bmph, mmph! Mmmph!”

Back during the defeat of the Mastermind in the 688th cycle, Infinite Void implanted “nonexistent memories” in my mind, particularly of an older twin sister between the Cheon Yo-hwa siblings. Thanks to that, I was force-fed a fabricated narrative where a colleague I had never met sacrificed herself to subdue the Outer God.

Naturally, the ordeal caused me immense stress.

I’ll admit it. Going on a world tour with Ha-yul during the 689th cycle under the pretense of exploring beyond the Himalayas and Ural Mountains was primarily for stress relief.

A warm smile crept onto my face as I recalled, “Even so, I endured. Abandoning my responsibilities for a break whenever things got tough was against the principles of a regressor like me.”

“...”

“Mmhmph! Mmmph! Mph!”

“Luckily, the 690th cycle was the one where I could take a proper break if I held on just that little bit longer. Oh, my young apprentice, you can’t possibly imagine how much I’ve looked forward to this moment.”

“...”

“Hmph!”

Ha-yul stared at me intently. Soon enough, the maid-like puppet standing behind her opened its jaw with a mechanical motion, and from it came a question:

“Who?”

For the record, this was our first time meeting.

Like any teenager in the throes of adolescence, Ha-yul was personally disproving the Electra Complex as little more than a hollow theory.[1] In other words, she was in the middle of enthusiastically torturing her father, the leader of the Second Provisional Government.

The source of the muffled “Mmph!” sounds? That would be Jung Sang-guk, gagged and seated in a torture chair down in the basement.

“I’m a regressor, Ha-yul. Ordinarily, I’d take more care in orchestrating our meeting and intervening cautiously in your father-daughter dynamics. But since this is my vacation cycle, I want to skip to the important part.”

“Breaking into my house uninvited and acting all familiar? Are you insane?”

“Try to understand. Sometimes, I need a day like this for my mental health.”

“This is weird. I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

At this point in her life—before she received my expert guidance—Ha-yul exuded what could bluntly be described as a menacingly grim aura, as evidenced by the impassive glare she was currently shooting my way.

Even the bravest of the brave would hesitate to pick a fight with her as she was now. She radiated an energy that screamed, “Mess with me, and we both die.”

A petite figure confined to a wheelchair, yet emanating both brutality and fragility.

It was a deadly combination.

“I don’t know who sent you.”

Ha-yul clenched her fists, and threads of puppet wire tightened around Jeong Sang-guk’s neck.

“Urgh! Huff, mmph!”

A little more pressure, and his neck would snap.

A truly explosive situation.

“If you’re here to save this man, forget it. Don’t interfere. Whether you’re from Fukuoka City Hall or the Provisional Government, I’ll hunt you down and kill you all.”

“No, feel free to kill him.”

Ha-yul and her maid-like puppet tilted their heads in confusion simultaneously.

At this point, she still struggled to control the puppet smoothly, finding it difficult to coordinate its movements. However, moments like this really highlighted just how much effort Ha-yul put into her training down the road. In later cycles, she would effortlessly command hundreds of puppets simultaneously, deploying an “army of puppets” to single-handedly hold an entire frontline.

“Doesn’t matter?”

“Not at all,” I confirmed. “Ha-yul, you don’t remember this, but over the course of hundreds—no, over five hundred—cycles, you’ve killed Jung Sang-guk in every one.”

“...”

“Even brushing sleeves with someone can be considered a connection from a past life. At this point, your patricide transcends cycles and borders on karmic inevitability.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about...”

Naturally.

Unless someone fully trusted me as a regressor, I’d appear to be just another shady intruder with absurd excuses, casually bypassing security to stroll into a heavily guarded basement.

“Don’t worry,” I assured, smiling gently. “I anticipated this reaction and asked the Ha-yul from a previous cycle to write a heartfelt letter to her current self.”

“...?”

“The Ha-yul from the 689th cycle said you’d trust me immediately once I read this letter. Let’s see. Ahem.”

Clearing my throat, I prepared my voice for the grand recital.

And thus, I opened the time capsule Ha-yul had left for herself.

“Hello, idiot. I’m you from ten years in the future.”

“...?”

“For starters, the guy in front of you is probably dressed like a barista. He’ll seem suspicious, but trust him. Not because he’s normal, he’s an infamous idiot.”

“...?”

“And he knows more about you than you know about yourself. For example, he and I both know that the maid-like puppet behind you is actually your biological mother.”

“...?!”

“He also knows you secretly wrote a bucket list spanning nine A4 pages in your diary. Thanks to him, about half of it was completed, and I have no regrets in life.”

“...?!?!”

“When we met, he asked me to come up with a magic phrase to convince you. I thought for three minutes and realized no such thing exists. Still, if you’re planning to kill yourself, why not delay it for ten days?”

“...”

“Finish off the guy you’re torturing and go on a little trip with him. Trust me, you’re doomed in twenty years anyway when the world ends. I’m off now. Good luck.”

Silence enveloped the basement.

Different expressions danced across Ha-yul’s face in a profound war of emotional conflict.

Jung Sang-guk, who had also heard the letter, scowled harder than ever. Though his gag muffled his voice, he seemed to be screaming, “What in the world is this crap?”

“That’s... me in ten years?”

“A future version of you edited for clarity, to be exact. The original letter ended with, ‘Did you know? Reversing “suicide” spells “edicius” and that means to become alive? What a revelation!’”

“......”

“I omitted that part because I thought it might be too overwhelming for you. You’re welcome.”

After that, Ha-yul peppered me with questions, primarily to verify my claim of being a regressor.

“Fine. I’ll trust you.”

It took two hours of relentless interrogation, but she finally granted me a sliver of trust.

“You’re saying this is your vacation cycle, and you’ve decided to spend it with me?”

I nodded. “Exactly.”

“Why me?”

“Because your past self made a wish, and I have something I want to do with you too.”

“A wish?”

“This.”

I pulled out a notebook from my jacket.

Ha-yul’s golden eyes widened, for this notebook was none other than the one she had hidden deep within her mansion—a record of her bucket list.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

On the last page, bold letters declared the following:

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No. 100 Wish

• Build a giant combined robot.

• Pilot it and self-destruct (★★).

• The giant robot should double as an aircraft carrier, housing smaller mobile suits inside (★★★).

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Detailed specifications and designs for the robot filled the margins of the page.

A triumphant grin spread across my face.

“Shall we build it? A giant robot.”

“Deal.”

Without hesitation, Ha-yul clasped my hand.

Thus began our intergenerational collaboration.

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https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

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Even for a regressor who had cycled through hundreds of regressions, building a giant robot from scratch was no small feat. The resources and manpower required would push the limits of what the Korean Peninsula could provide. It was a monumental task, one that seemed almost impossible to accomplish.

For this project, Ha-yul was indispensable. On top of that, we needed the help of another Awakener.

“And that’s you, Noh Do-hwa.”

“...”

“Of course, you might be wondering why on earth you should cooperate on such a ridiculous project. But as much as you dislike it, your contribution would stabilize the mental state of this regressor. And as you know, keeping my mental health stable benefits your future self.”

“...”

“Sure, you may not care now. But can you confidently say your future selves will feel the same? Imagine the karmic backlash they’d endure if this project’s failure caused problems in subsequent cycles.”

“...”

“Endure a little pain now, and your future selves will enjoy the next nine cycles in relative ease. Help me.”

For a long, silent moment, Noh Do-hwa kept her lips pursed. Then...

“What the actual fuck— Fine. Fine!”

Her words dripped with reluctant enthusiasm, but it was enough. With her cooperation secured, we dove headfirst into experimentation.

“Do-hwa, your ability is prosthetic creation. By crafting artificial limbs and attaching them to others, you make them feel as if they were moving their real body parts.”

“I’m aware, but...”

“Ha-yul, your ability is puppet manipulation. By connecting your strings, you can control anything the way you desire.”

“Yeah, so?”

“We’re going to combine the two.”

Do-hwa set to work, crafting prosthetic limbs—only, these weren’t ordinary prosthetics. Each arm and leg was massive, towering nearly two meters tall. Something of this size would be impossible for any human to move.

But what if Ha-yul were to use her puppet strings?

“Ha-yul, link your strings to the prosthetics as if you’re connecting nerves.”

“Got it.”

The enormous prosthetics, made from hollow metal frames, were heavy despite their skeletal structure. Ha-yul’s strings wrapped tightly around them, securing the connection. Each string linked directly to her physical body.

“Can you move them?”

“I’ll give it a try.”

The first day was a failure.

The two-meter-tall prosthetics, attached to a rudimentary frame, toppled over with a deafening crash.

Despite this, no one felt disheartened. After all, it had been years since Ha-yul last stood on two legs. The attempt was as much about rehabilitation as it was a technical test.

On the second day, Ha-yul fell again, this time attempting an awkward breakfall. The result? A more spectacular collapse.

Still, her expression—a peculiar, determined impassiveness—spoke volumes. She got back up without a word.

On the third day, the fourth day, the fifth...

The attempts continued.

By the seventh day, progress was undeniable.

Thoom!

A massive metal foot slammed against the ground, sending tremors through the earth.

Though the cockpit was open and exposed, Ha-yul endured the vibrations and pressed forward.

Even as the robot wavered, threatening to topple, she took a steadying step.

And so, the two-meter-tall robotic frame stood upright for the first time, as if this was what it had been designed to do all along.

“Whoa! Whooooa!”

Watching the scene unfold from close by, Do-hwa and I couldn’t help but cheer.

“It’s a success! Pilot Ha-yul, it’s a resounding success! Right now, you’re the brightest star in the world!”

“Haa...”

Ha-yul wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, her hair damp and clinging to her skin. Her sweat sparkled under the light, creating a dazzling effect.

Then the first-ever bipedal robot pilot in history uttered her thoughts, cool and composed.

“This is a small step for one human, but a giant leap for mankind.”

Beside me, Do-hwa muttered under her breath, “No, no. It’s the opposite—it’s a giant step for you and a microscopic one for mankind...”

Thus, the theme for the 690th cycle was decided: a robot saga!

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Footnotes:

[1] An Electra complex, the female version of the male Oedipus complex, is a psychoanalytic theory that describes a young girl's attraction to her father, while also feeling competitive with her mother. It's thought to develop during the phallic stage of psychosexual development, which is between the ages of three and six.