The Tales of an Infinite Regressor

Chapter 21 – Reader I

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 21 – Reader I

1

Now that we’ve dealt with some serious stuff, it’s time to lighten the mood again.

In the early stages of my regression journey, before run 20, I was overly serious. It was because I believed that if I just pulled myself together and made an effort, I could definitely save the world.

I’m not knocking the effort. But I was a bit arrogant. Who am I to treat the weight of the world and my own weight as equals?

Infinite regression? That’s just an awakening ability.

People need to learn to let go of themselves. When you let go of your own weight, you gain the capacity to accept others even more.

Anyway, my way of ‘letting go’ is my ‘hobbies.’

I dare say there are no regressors with as diverse hobbies as mine.

Because, in a regressor’s life, the most important thing is mental management, and hobbies are like housekeepers cleaning the mansion named mental health.

If you were to measure a regressor’s mental world in square footage, it would exceed thousands of square feet, like a luxurious mansion exclusively for aristocrats of the mind. Naturally, you’d need quite a few maids for ‘cleaning.’

If I were to list the duties of the maids I hired, or rather the types of hobbies, they were as follows:

[Playing games, browsing SGnet, being a barista, metalworking, teasing fairies, pestering Seo Gyu, cooking, taking walks, listening to music, playing music, sneakily hiding a stolen fedora under the bed, playing guitar, pestering Seo Gyu, playing the violin, playing the piano, painting, sculpting, pottery, collecting radios, secretly listening to Old Scho’s cellphone recording files, running a ranch, pestering Seo Gyu, trying out any random job and living life as that profession…]

But I won’t mention all those maids individually. There’s nothing as boring as discussing hobbies that others can’t relate to.

So, the maid I’ve chosen today is ‘reading.’

More specifically, would you like to read ‘web novels’?

2

Originally, I knew nothing about web novels.

When I was young, I only read a few martial arts novels, and I only learned about the genre of web novels around run 555.

It was around run 555 when I was introduced to web novels by someone I formed a connection with.

This person was an Awakened named Oh Dokseo. I’ll talk about him in the next run.

What’s important now is that I gained a new hobby and I was happier because of it.

What I liked most about web novels is that each work has a lot of content. After all, reading is food for the soul. And I was always someone who valued quantity over quality when it came to eating.

At least in the restaurant of this genre called web novels, it seemed like I wouldn’t have to worry about running out of fodder to eat.

Of course, it was a dog-like misconception.

“No novels to read…?”

I was in shock.

I only enjoyed feasting and banquets until run 556. So, just after 1 to 2 runs, I had run out of fodder to eat. In fact, web novels were a relatively new culture, and surprisingly, there weren’t many of them.

“Um… Should I try exploring other genres…?”

A thirsty person doesn’t pick the well.

At first, I only read fantasy novels, but I devoured anything and everything regardless of genre—academia, ghost stories, romance, martial arts, isekai, expert novels, parodies, TS (transsexual) stories, Yuri, you name it—as long as it was a text written by Sejong the Great’s invention. I even accepted alphabets and Japanese because even that wasn’t enough.

A new world had opened up.

I was happy.

Run 558 ended.

The new world collapsed.

“No novels to read…?”

I was shocked again.

Now I had really scraped the bottom and there was nothing left to eat.

My taste was never picky.

I even enjoyed the novels of postmodernists who boldly replaced quotation marks with reverse quotation marks (”“).

I devoured masterpieces of minimalism that omitted periods within dialogue and attempts by new generation phonologists to express characters’ distinct voices with tilde (~) or represent character silence gradually with ellipsis (..).

I even consumed satire novels that fiercely criticized modern egoism by ridiculing the appearance of a parody original character who ate up all the characteristics that the original protagonist should have, saying, ‘Why did that guy become so weak compared to the original? (Laughs).’

I devoured a work by an epidemic researcher where the laughter in the novel was fixed as ‘hoho,’ causing all characters to suffer from ‘hoho’ syndrome.

In short.

“Hmm~ Weird… Was the protagonist originally that… weak? Ho! Ho! Ho!”

Even a passage like this was willingly accepted as a staple food.

Ahh…

From now on, you can call me not an Awakened, but a web novel diver. Because it’s the truth.

This was my rock bottom, my abyss, my Mariana Trench. If I went deeper than this, instead of mentioning finding food or whatnot, I wouldn’t even be breathing.

Even for a seasoned regressor like me, survival in this magical realm was uncertain!

So, I could confidently say.

“No novels to read.”

Not only me, but many readers will eventually encounter this exact situation.

At times like this, readers usually have two paths to choose from: either they decide to take a break from web novels for a while, or they transition into becoming writers themselves by creating their own fodder.

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Coincidentally, I wasn’t a “usual” reader.

I was an infinite regressor.

For regressors, there was a third path.

“I should just kidnap all the writers and turn them into machines that churn out stories.”

I opened up my heart.

An untraveled path.

But a path that every reader has dreamed of at least once.

I confidently stepped forward toward that path, not as an Awakened, but as a diver into the world of web novels.

During one run, I collected personal information and details about web novel writers, and as soon as the next run started, I traveled around the country collecting writers.

Of course, writers weren’t creatures that could be caught by throwing a red and white ball, so manually collecting them was necessary.

If anyone sensitive to writer’s sensibilities were there, they might have casually raised objections like, “Isn’t that more like kidnapping than collecting?”

But around run 560, I was a bit tough. Wouldn’t it be happier to be raised under my protection as a regressor than to live in that harsh world?

Finally, I succeeded in collecting over three hundred writers. I became a master of writermon. The writers didn’t even know who they were brought by, why, or where.

“Where is this?”

“Um… Could it be…”

“Oh, aren’t you the talentless writer? We met briefly at that wedding last time, right?”

“Harem fanatic! You’re here too!”

“Oh, it’s the harem enthusiast!”

Buzz buzz…

When I gathered hundreds of writers in the hotel lobby, many of them recognized each other. They couldn’t hide their fear, but they tried to understand the situation somehow.

“But why have we been brought here in the first place?”

“Has anyone heard an explanation?”

“Sorry. I suddenly passed out and when I woke up, I was here… It’s been two days already.”

“Two days?”

“Oh, it’s been three days for me.”

“Wow, that must have been tough.”

“Huh? No, it wasn’t. They served well-balanced meals three times a day, the bed was comfortable, and we didn’t have to serialize daily. It was so nice.”

“…?”

“…?”

It’s about time to give an explanation.

“Um, uh… Can you hear me?”

I held the microphone and stood at the check-in counter. Hundreds of eyes turned in my direction.

Actually, I just used amplification magic to raise my voice, so the microphone was just for decoration. But somehow, I felt like I should show some respect when standing in front of the writers.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

As you can see, the 335 carefully selected writers who were kidnapped to this hotel were all handsome men. Regardless of genre or gender, only the writers who made my heart beat even once were gathered here.

“Hello. I’m an Awakened with the nickname Undertaker. I think some of you have already guessed it, but all of you gathered here are writers who have entered the web novel industry.”

“Only writers?”

“Where are we?”

“If there are only writers here, this must be hell.”

“Hey, who’s holding the mic? What’s your identity?”

I spoke solemnly.

“As I mentioned, I am an Awakened named Undertaker. This place is a hotel near Incheon. Due to the Seoul crisis, all existing staff fled, but don’t worry. I have already hired new staff, and they are all highly trained professionals.”

I pointed to the other side of the lobby.

Twenty fairies in Che Guevara T-shirts saluted. I also saluted in return.

Once, I was hostile towards fairies, but around run 560, I had established a very good relationship with the Fairy Revolution Club. I knew exactly who they were.

“Please rest assured, as things are. And they will, you will be safe.”

“Crazy! Fairies?!”

“Aaah! Help!”

The writers were not reassured.

There was a bit of a commotion, but we subdued it without any problem. 99% of the writers were too weak to cause physical events in the macro world.

I took the microphone again.

“Um, mic test. Unfortunately, you cannot escape. The hotel entrance is closed. You can open the windows in your rooms and look outside, but you cannot cross over. Just like our lives.”

“Let us go!”

“You cannot escape. Highly trained members of the Fairy Revolution will monitor you 24/7.”

“Crazy…”

“What’s with that guy? He’s scary…”

“Let me ask you this. Even if you could escape, do you really want to leave here?”

It seemed like a question mark hovered over the heads of the writers, as if they were filled with questions. I decided to address their doubts.

“As you may have seen in the news, the world is currently on the brink of destruction. Monsters have appeared all over the world, and gates have been opened. Yes, you’re in deep trouble.”

“Um…”

“Accessing your usual novel platforms has become difficult. Even if you manage to access them, readers won’t be able to purchase your writings because the banking system has collapsed. Soon, the internet network will also be completely cut off. In this situation, your writing skills are utterly useless.”

The truth was hitting hard.

The writers’ faces started to pale significantly. Many people had started their careers as writers with the mindset of “earning money by just writing alone without doing physical labor.” Now, that easy money was all gone.

“Even if you continue to write and publish, there’s a problem. From now on, there’s a 0.06% chance that a ‘Reincarnation Truck’ will appear for readers who read your stories. In this era, novels are practically weapons themselves.”

“A reincarnation truck…?”

“Is he a bit strange in the head?”

The writers muttered, thinking I was talking nonsense.

Hmm. But it’s not. The ‘Reincarnation Truck’ is a real anomaly that has been spotted increasingly frequently since it was first discovered in run 119.

Well, with the protective barrier I’ve set up around this hotel, even if thousands of trucks come, they won’t break through, so it doesn’t really matter.

“Then… why did you bring us here?”

“Because I am your passionate reader.”

I pointed my finger at one of the writers in the front row.

“You.”

“Y-Yes?”

“You’re a fan of ‘Bad Ending Enthusiast,’ right? You always write yuri stories on Novel Campus.”

The writer I pointed out was taken aback.

“H-How do you… know me…?”

“Didn’t I say I’m a fan?”

“Well, um, thank you, but… Um. There’s no way you’ve read my novel… My most popular work has only 100 views for the latest update in the preferred works of 2000…”

“Your first protagonist was a pathetic character who suffered all the injustices in the world. But from the next work onwards, you began to incorporate the Norman’s route, and you’ve reached the point of reconciling the charm of the pathetic character with the strength of the Norman’s route. Of course, towards the end, a supporting character suddenly accelerates and becomes the protagonist’s partner, leading to a bittersweet ending. But even that roughness is your charm as a Bad Ending Enthusiast, in my opinion.”

“You really read it…?”

The writers were astonished.

I proceeded to point out the next individuals in line.

“Heavenly Demon is the Real Wuxia, you’ve been quietly writing traditional wuxia in this day and age with a solemn tone. In an era where celestial horses have become vulgar jokes, your discussions on chivalry and justice always resonate with my heart.”

“YellowblitzTabledinner-nim, in a fantasy market where all the themes are running out, you always try new attempts…”

“ILikeMyLittlePony-nim, you’ve erected a monumental contribution to broadening the horizon of the once-called veteran genre, dystopian. I know of your novel where the protagonist is born as a Hungarian noble in the backdrop of World War I and eventually becomes a praised cavalry commander for the Habsburg family. It’s incredibly rare and entertaining…”

As I listed about thirty writers in this manner, each time I mentioned their works, the writers showed touched expressions. It seemed they were all blushing considerably whenever their pen names were mentioned, but at least now, in the hotel lobby, there was no one who doubted my sincerity.

“Wait a moment.”

However, suspicion veered in an unexpected direction.

The writers murmured. It was a mosquito-like sound, but it was all audible to my enhanced hearing.

“So, aren’t you the reader who devours everything? You eat both yuri and TS, pure love and harem, traditional wuxia and fusion wuxia, perverted and mild perverted, mainstream and underground, and even other genres that can’t be mentioned due to various circumstances, right…?”

“Eek, a monster!”

“Goodness, are there such voracious readers out there?”

“It’s not Kim Reader, it’s Kim YellowBlitz…”

Oh my. These writers were mocking their precious reader.

As a regressor, I avoided snacks to maintain my mental fortitude. My tastes were very wholesome.

“I’d like to express my gratitude to everyone here, but due to time constraints, I’ll skip that for today.”

“For today…?”

“Above all, I’m sure there are writers here who don’t want their genres exposed in such a public setting.”

Some writers flinched.

“I’ll arrange a separate gathering for them someday. Anyway, writers, please think carefully. While I am indeed the mastermind who kidnapped and imprisoned you here, the outside world beyond this blanket is dangerous. Do you have the confidence to survive in a world that’s deteriorating in real-time?”

The lobby fell silent.

In reality, in runs where I didn’t bring them, more than half didn’t last even six months. The remaining half died within a year. At best, only two managed to survive relatively longer.

“You don’t need to worry about survival here. Nourishment and everything else will be provided to you. Even the fairies that you fear so much are merely employees in this hotel. The only thing you need to do is write novels.”

“…”

“You’re welcome to continue your ongoing novels or start a new one. Just focus on writing. Everything else will be taken care of.”

The writers buzzed in response to those words.

“That’s a valid point. It really feels like the country’s going downhill.”

“I was originally planning to flee abroad, but hearing that it’s no different there, I gave up. Communication might also be difficult…”

“We get buffet meals every day. It’s not so bad here!”

“Actually, considering those who couldn’t come here, we might be lucky…”

“Yeah. I wonder what happened to the other writers.”

A generally positive atmosphere prevailed.

Then, someone muttered to themselves suddenly.

“Wait, damn. This is just canned food, isn’t it…?”

Hmm. Some people were quick to catch on, but with the situation already set, there was no changing it.

From that day on, the 335 individuals began their group retreat, feeling like canned sardines.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]