WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Editor: LiteraryGirl

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

Chapter 297

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The Exile VIII

“You’re awfully quiet.”

The air about Dok-seo shifted. It was only natural—her appearance, the color of her eyes, and even the rhythm of her voice had changed. Yet somehow, this changewas even more fundamental.

“You seem flustered.”

“Ah...”

Dok-seo, or rather the entity that summoned Ji-soo of the 703rd cycle to overwrite her personality onto herself, gave a wry smile. It was an expression Dok-seo would never normally make.

How could one describe it?

Right. The word “transformation” seemed to be the only fitting descriptor.

“I’m just as flustered, honestly. No, perhaps ‘fascinated’ is the better word.”

“So, you’re really...?” The Ji-soo of this cycle—in other words, the “real Kim Ji-soo” who looked identical to the one sitting opposite—hesitated as her lips trembled. “You’re really saying you’re my past self?”

“That’s how I perceive myself. But the word ‘past’ is somewhat inaccurate. I am your potential. A future that might have unfolded had you taken certain paths... Thank you, Undertaker. For creating this opportunity. For granting my wish.”

I gave a silent nod in response.

Until just moments ago, the main figures in this meeting were Ji-soo and me. Dok-seo had merely been an uninvited guest, unsure why she had been called here. But now the roles had reversed.

The key players here were Kim Ji-soo and Kim Ji-soo: past and future, reality and potential, colliding.

I chose to withdraw into silence, making myself an outsider in this encounter. It was an act of consideration for two individuals: the girl whose main life story I had ruined and the one who, through me, had been given a chance to rewrite her side story.

Had she surmised my intention?

Dok-seo (strictly speaking, she was also a version of Ji-soo from another cycle, but for convenience, I’ll continue referring to her as Dok-seo) nodded slightly. The subtle motion conveyed her gratitude.

It became clear that all past grievances between us were now fully resolved.

At last, the Ji-soo sitting across seemed to have digested her initial shock.

“I heard... you were tortured.”

“Yes, I was. I even assisted as an aide.”

“But I don’t understand why you would want to pass your resentment to the next cycle’s version of me. I’ll believe you when you say Ji-won is a psychopath and that torture took place. But still, it’s something that hasn’t happened yet. At least, not from my perspective.”

“Something that hasn’t happened yet, you say.” Dok-seo calmly sipped her coffee. “Did Mr. Park pass away?”

“What?”

“Your teacher, Park Woon-chul. The one who got bitten by zombies while trying to help our Baekam High School students.”

“Ah, yes. He passed away.”

“And the senior students?”

“They survived, thanks to Undertaker here.”

Dok-seo’s eyes, which now carried the swampy green hue of a stagnant pond, narrowed. “That’s fortunate. Originally, all of them died, you see. The seniors, too.”

“They... What?”

“Not just the teacher, but also the seniors succumbed to the Anomaly. By the time I returned to the school, everything was over. I had no choice but to abandon them and attempt an escape.”

At that, there was no response.

“Ji-soo, this is something you might still consider ‘an event that hasn’t happened,’ at least not yet. But you’re grateful to Undertaker, aren’t you?”

“Yes...”

“That’s because you know. Even if the catastrophe didn’t occur in reality, you understand how it could have. That’s why you feel gratitude.”

Dok-seo set her coffee cup down with aclink. As the dark surface of the liquid rippled, her emotions mirrored the motion, trembling ever so slightly.

“Is it wrong to feel resentment? When crossing into the next cycle, Undertaker’s rescue of you will vanish. Are you telling me to instruct the next cycle’s version of you to forget gratitude, that it’s irrelevant to you, and to let it go? Perhaps some might do so.”

Dok-seo leaned forward, narrowing the gap between the two.

“But you are not that kind of person.”

Only then did Ji-soo seem to realize it. That the green eyes before her did not carry the scent of leaves or tea but rather the stench of decay, festering endlessly.

“The reason you cannot feel resentment is simple. It is because you do not know.”

“Do not know...”

“Yes. You, the version of me from years ago, have no knowledge of the tragedies you might have endured. You can’t even imagine them. While you can hypothesize ‘the seniors might have died to zombies,’ you can’t fathom ‘falling into hell because of Ji-won.’”

Ji-soo flinched. Dok-seo had clasped her hand firmly.

“So please, learn. Ask questions. Listen to my answers. Then, decide. Will you carry my resentment? My grudge?”

Dok-seo—always one step behind me, the slowest prophet in the world, the Epimetheus to my Prometheus—began her story with the records from a previous cycle.[1]

There is an epilogue.

“There were countless children like me gathered there. The Misfortune Workshop, that’s what Ji-won called it.”

The tale of how she fell into hell.

“I was among the first-generation students to Awaken abilities. I was also the one who mastered Phantom Torture, the skill the godmother had so desperately desired. So every time she tortured other adoptees, I acted as her aide.”

The story of the seasons she spent in hell.

“My skin was peeled off. My teeth were pulled at 60-second intervals. To perform Phantom Torture, I first had to know that pain myself.”

Dok-seo did not let go of Ji-soo’s hand.

“It hurt. It hurt so much.”

I clenched my fists, watching the scene from the side.

“Will it be conveyed?”

In truth, I had prepared a Plan B in case Dok-seo failed.

“If I use the Tutorial Fairy’s dream powers, I can create an ultra-realistic dream. In that dream, I can make the Ji-soo of this cycle experience the events of the previous one.”

In other words, recreate the horrors of the Misfortune Workshop in a dream. But this idea was rejected by Ji-soo of the 703rd cycle.

Her reason was simple.

“I don’t want my younger self, the next cycle’s child, to endure the same pain as me.”

She didn’t wish to pass on her suffering and pain.

“Because it hurts too much. I just... I don’t want my life and emotions to fade into nothingness. I hope they’ll understand. I hope they’ll remember. Because that child is me.”

This was her sincere wish. A hope that was pure and clear like a chime, despite blooming from despair.

Yet I couldn’t help but harbor skepticism.

“Can emotions alone truly be conveyed without physical pain?”

Humans, after all, seem to only empathize with pain they’ve experienced firsthand. Even as I took on her wish, persuaded Dok-seo and Seo-rin, and orchestrated this meeting, I couldn’t shake my pessimism.

Then, it happened.

Something dripped onto the surface of the coffee.

“Ah...”

Who had made that sound?

It didn’t matter. The voice belonged to one of them.

Tears were streaming from Ji-soo’s black eyes.

“Huh?”

Ji-soo placed a hand over her chest.

We watched her, startled. She herself seemed unaware that she was crying.

“It hurts... It’s not just because I empathize with your story. My heart aches. My brain throbs. I feel like vomiting.”

Ji-soo wiped her tears.

“Somehow, I think I understand.”

She brushed her hand across her face like a curtain, revealing her eyes once more. In that brief moment, her eyes had changed.

A second ago, they gleamed pure black. Now, they glowed a brilliant red.

“This... This is the emotion you feel, isn’t it?”

I found myself speechless.

[Mr. Undertaker.]

Though not present in the café, the Saintess who shared my sight or Dok-seo’s perspective spoke urgently.

[Ji-soo’s eyes changed color. Her hair remains the same, but this must be—no, it definitely is—.]

Indeed.

At that moment, Ji-soo had Awakened.

In the previous cycle, Ji-won had artificially Awakened a child destined to die an ordinary person, molding her into his ideal through planned experiments.

Phantom Torture. The skill to vividly convey one’s pain to others.

It was a manifestation of vengeance, born solely in the hypocritical route Ji-won pursued in the 703rd cycle.

But if the cycle changed? If Ji-soo of the 703rd cycle sought the help of a regressor like me, thereby influencing her next self?

What would Ji-soo become?

“Even with my chest burning like this...”

The answer unfolded before my eyes.

“You desperately told me everything, didn’t you?”

Ji-soo tightened her grip on Dok-seo’s hand, embracing her in a squeezing grip.

This would later be revealed as the condition for activating Ji-soo’s new ability: physical contact.

“Yes, you’re right. I didn’t know your pain... the tragedies I might have endured.”

Even now, she couldn’t comprehend it, Ji-soo admitted.

“But your emotions are being conveyed fully. They press against my heart, so vividly.”

“Ah.”

“Thank you. For telling me.”

Ji-soo took a deep breath. Tears, now tinged ruby red, flowed freely from her altered eyes.

For the past and future versions of herself.

Ji-soo cried for them both.

“I don’t know if I’ll get revenge on Ji-won like you want. I don’t know what kind of life I’ll lead. I can’t say right now.”

Her voice was a whisper.

“But I’ll never forget this feeling—never. I’ll carry it with me as I live on.”

Dok-seo—the vengeful revenant who had taken her own life in a now-erased timeline—watched her silently for a long moment.

Finally, she spoke.

“Yes.”

Ji-soo of the 703rd cycle smiled.

“That is enough.”

She closed her eyes.

On that day, the ability known as Phantom Torture, honed in a regressor’s timeline, disappeared forever. In its place, a new Awakening arose.

Empathic Resonance. A skill to fully feel another’s emotions.

In other words, “to suffer just as much as another”—an ability borne of shared pain.

That was the crimson name Kim Ji-soo now bore.

Footnotes:

[1] Epimetheus is the brother of Prometheus, the figure from Greek myth said to have gifted mankind with fire. While Prometheus (“foresight”) was known for being ingeniously clever, Epimetheus (“hindsight”) was seen as dull and thoughtless in his actions. Prometheus and Epimetheus’s names are also the source for the words “prologue” and “epilogue”.

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