WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Editor: LiteraryGirl

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

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

Chapter 234

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The Performer I

Talking about remnants of the past suddenly reminded me of another person. But before we dive into that, let me ask you this first:

Have you ever heard of cover song culture?

A cover song is when someone takes a song originally created by someone else and sings it in their own voice. There’s no need to look far for an example. If you've ever gone to a karaoke bar and sung a song, that’s a cover.

And in Busan, there's a very famous cover artist.

“Hey? Ah-ryeon, where are you going?”

“Oh, uh, I have a concert today. I saved up some rations to buy the ticket...”

“A concert? Dang Seo-rin?”

“Eek! N-no, not that strange Latin chant concert... I’m going to Cecelia's concert!”

The Masked Song Queen.

Stage name: セシリア.

Given that her name is written in Japanese (セシリア) and not English (Cecilia), you could probably guess that she was Japanese. However, that wasn't common knowledge. In fact, fewer than ten people in all of Korea knew that. Even I only found out later from the Saintess.

This secrecy led to endless speculation on SG Net.

- Anonymous: Does anyone know who Cecelia really is?

└[Samcheon] MeteorIsIceMagic: I tried digging into it with some friends, but there’s barely any information.

- Anonymous: I don't get why people worship that girl as if she’s a music queen. I’ve heard that she even has private encore performances for VIPs after concerts. I bet there's a backstage deal...

└OldManGoryeo: Idiot. I’ve bought VIP tickets more than ten times, and that never happened.

└Anonymous: If there’s no proof, then it’s fake, right?

- CookingQueen: I think her voice is just so beautiful! It's amazing that someone can soothe the hearts of people in such despair with their singing.

- Anonymous: So, is she selling the blue pills now?

Her appearance, origin, age, gender, hobbies—nothing was known about the Masked Singer. She only performed at certain times, in certain places.

How was that possible? Was it because the apocalypse had erased everyone’s personal data?

That certainly played a role. But the real reason was something else entirely.

“These days, SG Net is all about Cecelia. Doesn’t it get boring, hearing about the same unremarkable singer all the time?”

“Unremarkable? Guild Leader, how could you say that? Cecelia isn’t unremarkable—she embodies every single quality there is!”

Cecelia was a cover singer like no other. She had the ability to perfectly imitate any song.

On stage, when she sang Michael Jackson, she became Heavenly Demon Michael. When she belted out Celine Dion, she turned into Celine Empress.

Her ability was one of Endless Transformation. Cecelia could freely change her voice and tone to deliver a 100% accurate rendition of any song.

In short, it was impossible to identify who she really was from her performances. Her voice changed with every song.

“Guild Leader, would you like to come with me? You’ve saved up so many rations, you could easily buy a ticket from a reseller.”

“I’m not much fun at concerts.”

“Huh? Why not? I always go alone to these shows, anyway...”

“......”

I ended up going with her.

As expected from one of the most famous singers in Korea after Dang Seo-rin, Cecelia’s concert tickets were expensive. Even the concert venue was unusual. While most of the businesses in Busan reused old buildings from the past, Cecelia’s performance hall had been completely rebuilt by architects.

A beautifully constructed wooden building. In the center was the stage, with around 50 tables arranged in front of it. You couldn’t just buy a ticket either. You had to order a meal to attend.

“If Dang Seo-rin is an idol for the masses, this seems like a more exclusive club...”

“Wow, Guild Leader! This is my first time in the VIP section!”

Ah-ryeon was bouncing with excitement.

VIP guests sat in partitioned balcony seats on the second floor. You could enjoy an expensive meal in private while watching the concert below. It was so luxurious, you’d forget the apocalypse ever happened.

“This is your first time? You make a lot of money. Don’t tell me you blew it all gambling again?”

“Hehehe. Well, whenever I win, I get a lot of attention from the people at the table. It’s just too satisfying to stop.”

“Didn’t you get stabbed in an alley because of that last time? You never learn.”

“But getting stabbed doesn’t matter since I heal with Self-Regeneration, right?”

“......”

Just then, the lights went out.

Staff members moved around with torches, lighting various spots, bringing the atmosphere to life.

Next to me, Ah-ryeon, who had been cutting into her steak, cheered so excitedly that she sprayed spit everywhere. Truly an embarrassment, wherever she went.

- Aaah, aaaaah...

In the middle of the now-dark stage, Cecelia stood holding a microphone.

It wasn’t a functioning microphone. Electronics were always at risk of being corrupted by Anomalies.

But for a singer, a microphone was like armor for the soul. No performer would step onto the battlefield of a stage without their armor, even if it didn’t work.

- Aaah, aaaaaah ♪

With her face fully covered by a mask and not an inch of skin showing, Cecelia looked like a character from a Venetian carnival as she began to sing.

“Kyaaaah!”

“Ceceliaaa!”

The audience, who had paid a fortune for their tickets, erupted in cheers.

Tonight's concert was dedicated to a legendary British rock band. Every song was from their repertoire.

With most electronics too dangerous to use, Cecelia had become almost the only way to hear beloved music at the original quality. For the fans, it was a dream come true.

- Aaah, aaaaaah ♪

And for Cecelia, it was like winning the lottery.

Think about it. Every day, she could pick a different famous musician from history, perform their songs, and make tons of money. By posting her six-month concert schedule in advance on SG Net, fans of each artist would flock to pay whatever it took for a seat. There was no need to stress about creating new songs or worry that fans might get bored with her setlists. Cecelia’s concerts were always sold out.

A win-win for both the fans and the singer.

“Hmm.”

But I...

I couldn’t get excited about Cecelia’s performance. Specifically, I couldn’t bring myself to feel any attachment to it.

Even if I set aside my bias as a die-hard Dang Seo-rin fan and the fact that I was Witch Unit No. 0, it was just...

‘In the end, isn’t she just a highly advanced recorder?’

Granted, it was impressive that this “recorder” performed live on stage. But still, I preferred performances where the singer’s true voice came through. Even among cover artists, I liked those who sang with their own voices.

But you should take my harsh judgment with a grain of salt, considering my unique circumstances.

‘Whenever I want, I can play any song in my head perfectly using my Complete Memory.’

To me, Cecelia’s live performance had almost no value. In fact, the true spectacle that night was Ah-ryeon next to me, squealing with excitement, “Cecelia is the best! I’m so glad I’m alive!” while bawling her eyes out.

After the main concert and the encore, there was a private fan-signing event for VIPs.

Wearing her Venetian mask, Cecelia, Busan’s Song Queen, greeted us.

“Hello.”

Even her voice was tuned to match the lead vocalist of the British rock band.

“Thank you so much for coming to the concert. Would you like me to sign something for you both?”

“No, just sign for her.”

“Alright.” Cecelia smoothly autographed Ah-ryeon’s poster. “Here you go...”

As she handed over the signed poster and looked up, our eyes met.

For some reason, Cecelia froze for a moment.

Specifically, she hesitated for about half a second. It wasn’t a long time, and her expression was hidden by the mask, but I could sense a brief moment of shock.

It wasn’t too surprising. My face was well-known. The Hero of the Ten Legs Battle appearing as a VIP would certainly be a surprise.

“...Are you sure you don’t want my autograph?”

“Yes, I’m just here to accompany a fan of yours. But your performance was excellent.”

“...Thank you.”

Her reaction was odd, but honestly, I didn’t think much of it. I was too busy calming Ah-ryeon, who was over the moon about getting the autograph.

I barely managed to pull Ah-ryeon away from the fan-signing event.

“Did you enjoy it that much?”

“Yes! Thanks to you, Guild Leader, I got a personal autograph! You’re the best, Guild Leader! I’ll never forget this concert!”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Hehe... Oh, wait! I need to go back to the VIP section and take some photos!”

“Huh? Why?”

“I need to post proof on SG Net!”

“......”

Later that night, SG Net was graced with a photo of Ah-ryeon flipping the camera off, alongside a post titled: [Can’t afford Cecelia concert? Where’s your VIP status now, you broke bastards? LOL].

Truly, she was an embarrassment wherever she went.

I glanced at the framed autograph Ah-ryeon proudly displayed like a treasure.

- To Sim Ah-ryeon. I hope it was a wonderful night.

Oddly, there was no “Cecelia” signature anywhere on the poster. I couldn’t get it out of my mind, how strange that was.

So, what kind of music do I, Undertaker, prefer?

Setting Dang Seo-rin aside, since she’s a unique case, I usually prefer listening to underground musicians while eating lunch or dinner at a local restaurant.

“Hello, I’m Calypso. I’ll be singing a song I wrote and composed myself. It’s called... Ruins.”

Take that musician, Calypso, for example. She’d perform tirelessly at every local restaurant, whether it was a soup place or a BBQ joint, armed with only an acoustic guitar.

“Is that a half-moon breaking, or is it your teary eyes...?”

To be kind, she was an unimpressive talent.

In these times, musicians like her didn’t get paid by restaurant owners. They just borrowed the space and survived on whatever tips the customers threw their way.

Comparing her to Song Queen Cecelia wouldn’t even be fair. Cecelia performed at one of the most luxurious venues in Busan, while Calypso sang at half-ruined restaurants with signs that simply read “Open for Business.”

Naturally, the customers’ generosity was on a different level too. Most underwhelming musicians left the restaurant empty-handed after filling the place with sound.

“Thanks for the performance.”

“Oh...! Thank you, Undertaker!”

And I liked musicians like her.

Calypso’s Korean was clumsy. I suspected she wasn’t from here—probably from Japan. It couldn’t have been easy adapting to life in a foreign land, yet she showed up at nine out of ten restaurants I visited. That meant she was hustling hard, begging restaurant owners for performance opportunities.

In other words?

It’s not like I had some creepy hobby of hoarding little-known performers all for myself.

Unlike Noh Do-hwa, who had a disdain for the younger generation, I always felt the urge to help young people who were struggling and fighting to make it. I didn’t tip too much or too little—just enough for them to survive. I wanted to extend their fight, giving them a bit more time in this broken world so they could hold on and maybe find their way.

“Thank you for the performance.”

“Oh, yes! Thank you!”

Calypso bowed her head.

But something felt different this time. Normally, we would have parted ways there, but Calypso lifted her head with a determined expression.

“Um, excuse me...!”

“Hmm.” I gave a warm smile. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Huh...? What?”

“There’s no need to thank me. You don’t even need to remember my name. I’m just an anonymous fan supporting you from afar.”

“Uh...”

“Keep going.”

I gave her a thumbs-up and walked out of the restaurant. I could sense her confusion, but I cut off any hesitation in my mind.

‘Perfect.’

My footsteps echoed with pride. Wasn’t this the ideal model of how a fan should behave?

Feeling so pleased with myself, I turned into a deserted alley and started talking to the Saintess.

“Isn’t that the right way to do things, Saintess?”

[Hmm...]

“Seeing someone work so hard, regardless of their background, always fills my heart.”

[Yes... I suppose.]

“And that fancy restaurant from last time... Ugh, don’t get me started. Limiting your audience to just 50 rich people in a world that could collapse any day? Ridiculous.”

[......]

“Someday, I’ll build a system where everyone can enjoy entertainment.”

But the Saintess seemed strangely unresponsive. As someone who spent her days trapped in an aquarium, I was probably the only person she could talk to like this. We should have been bantering more, but today something was off.

[Um, Mr. Undertaker?]

“Yes?”

[I’ve been debating whether to tell you, but I’ve decided that keeping this a secret from you would be wrong.]

“What is it?”

The Saintess took a deep breath and said, [The musician you’ve been supporting, Calypso...]

“Yes?”

[She’s actually the same person as Cecelia.]

Blink.

“What?”

[In other words, the unknown artist you’ve been praising and the famous Song Queen of Busan are the exact same person.]

“......”

[Sorry. I knew how much you enjoyed playing the anonymous patron, so I thought it was better to keep quiet. But in hindsight, I should have told you from the start.]

“...So, Calypso, or rather Cecelia... she recognized me?”

[Of course. She probably wanted to reveal her identity to you just now. She was probably trying to muster the courage.]

“......”

[......]

“......”

[Did I make a mistake by telling you? Should I have kept quiet?]

This is all Ah-ryeon’s fault!

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