Chapter 116: The Reason for Action (3)
116. The Reason for Action (3)
After what felt like an eternity of calming Sipsam down, Kang Hajin was finally able to have a proper conversation.
Only after making a solemn promise—never to treat his body like a broken-jointed doll again—did the system administrator finally settle.
"Well, whatever. Good to see you again, I guess."
[System Alert: Likewise!]
[System Alert: (๑•᎑<๑)ｰ☆]
Having weathered the emotional reunion, Hajin straightened his posture. There was a lot he needed to hear—and a lot he needed to say.
"Let's talk about rewards later. First, I want to understand the situation."
[System Alert: Knew you'd ask! Already prepared!]
With a mechanical whirr, a familiar PowerPoint presentation materialized before him.
<Report on Fixed Regressor System Error & Resolution>
Presenter: Time Administrator 13
※ WARNING ※
This report contains numerous derogatory remarks about "The One Who Keeps Spinning Back."
(Raw frustration and rage from the drafting phase remain unfiltered. Viewer discretion advised.)
...The cover slide alone spoke volumes.
Hajin wisely chose not to comment. Today, his instincts screamed that provoking Sipsam would be a very bad idea.
A soft click later, the first slide appeared:
<01. What is the Mental Care System?>
[System Alert: Before the debrief, let me explain your current system structure.]
[System Alert: As you guessed, our records show two distinct personalities registered under your name.]
[System Alert: The base profile—human 'Kang Hajin'—and the 'Fixed Regressor' version who's lived through countless timelines.]
[System Alert: The Mental Care System exists to help the 'Fixed Regressor' personality integrate smoothly with the 'base' one.]
Click. The scene shifted.
A rapid montage played—Hajin losing his grip on sanity, the Mental Care System failing, moments where he snapped under the weight of endless cycles.
[System Alert: As you've experienced firsthand, humans aren't meant to perceive timelines. The risks are catastrophic.]
[System Alert: You know what happens when you think, 'I'll just regress anyway.']
"...Yeah, I've stopped doing that."
Sipsam swiftly swiped away an image of Hajin lying broken by an emergency exit, his leg bones visibly cracked—as if even looking at it was too much.
[System Alert: NEVER. DO. THAT. AGAIN.]
[System Alert: (ʘ言ʘ╬)]
"...Got it."
With a sigh (complete with a (=3) sound effect), Sipsam continued.
[System Alert: Normally, in cases like this, we'd just delete the anomalous personality.]
[System Alert: Humans aren't meant to retain regression awareness. It's harmful, and deleting it doesn't disrupt the timeline—the base personality remains intact.]
[System Alert: If we'd caught the 'Chosen Regressor' and 'The Spinner' sooner, you'd have been reset that way.]
Hajin had heard this before.
Originally, after stopping the regressors, his memories were supposed to be wiped.
So that's what they meant.
It made sense. If he forgot everything, he'd just be 20-year-old Kang Hajin again. And since most human choices follow predictable patterns, that would have been the cleanest solution.
[System Alert: But, well... you know how that turned out. We failed. Now, you're helping us.]
[System Alert: So in this case... we need the Mental Care System to help your base personality process and integrate everything.]
[System Alert: Especially since your 'Wanderer Mode' debuff made this even harder.]
[System Alert: If you'd kept giving up, cycle after cycle...]
[System Alert: Eventually, we'd reach a point where nothing could fix it.]
Finally, Hajin understood why Sipsam had been so frantic about him taking care of himself.
Sure, they'd spent enough time together for concern, but...
I was really in danger, huh. The Mental Care System barely held me together—and even then, only because my natural personality's so damn stubbornly optimistic.
20-year-old Hajin had been even more headstrong, brimming with confidence.
Even after quitting as a trainee, he'd chased new dreams and forged lasting friendships. This was when he'd finally started overcoming the trauma of being ostracized.
So the fact that current Hajin had endured this long? That was entirely thanks to his 20-year-old self.
...Then again, at 29, I was a complete wreck.
Back then, he'd had no drive, no belief in himself, no courage to face the world. No self-worth meant no desire to meet people, and isolation just dug the hole deeper.
If someone asked, "How've you been?" he'd have nothing to say—which only made the depression worse.
The worst part? Remembering how brightly he'd once shone among others made the contrast even more unbearable.
Only now could Hajin truly see how broken he'd been.
"Thanks. Without Mental Care, I'd probably be six feet under by now."
[System Alert: .........]
[System Alert: Not necessarily.]
Despite Hajin's sincerity, Sipsam didn't seem pleased. Instead, it hesitated—[Drafting...] flickering repeatedly.
[System Alert: ...We're sorry.]
[System Alert: This is our fault.]
Opaque white text scrawled across the blue interface.
"Huh? What're you talking about?"
[System Alert: From the very start—when we first realized your timeline was entangled with the Chosen Regressor's...]
[System Alert: We should've immediately deleted the regressed personality and shielded you.]
[System Alert: If we had... you wouldn't have been pushed this far.]
Hajin didn't interrupt, letting Sipsam continue.
[System Alert: We first detected your timeline divergence on your college entrance exam day.]
[System Alert: The moment you made a completely different choice, energy similar to the Chosen Regressor's flared.]
In his original life, Hajin had prepped for retakes and entered college early.
But in his first regression, he'd abandoned that path entirely, focusing on enlisting instead—a stark deviation.
[System Alert: Then another regression hit, confirming your entanglement with the Chosen Regressor.]
[System Alert: We should've purged the regressed personality then... but we didn't.]
Sipsam faltered. [Drafting...] popped up again.
[System Alert: ...We thought you could help us track the Chosen Regressor.]
[System Alert: Back then, we were desperate. No leads, no progress—just dead ends.]
[System Alert: So when we found another regressor emitting similar energy... we thought, 'Maybe he's the key.']
Just a little intel.
Gather clues, then reset everything. That was the plan.
What the Time Administrators hadn't known?
Just how utterly incompetent the Chosen Regressor would turn out to be.
[System Alert: We're sorry.]
[System Alert: If we hadn't decided to use you... none of this would've happened.]
Another apology.
Hajin tapped the sofa, processing what felt like some bizarre origin story revelation.
Once he'd pieced it together, he asked calmly:
"So... did you at least get any leads?"
[System Alert: ...I'm relieved to say yes. We've made significant progress.]
[System Alert: Solving this case uncovered even more. I have full clearance to share everything today.]
"...Good."
Hajin nodded, then asked quietly:
"Then... what happens after we catch the Chosen Regressor? Do I just... disappear? Well, 'disappear' sounds weird—more like, do I lose all these memories?"
Remembering past timelines alone had been suffocatingly lonely.
But the thought of erasing everything he'd gained through regression? That felt like a waste, too.
Conflicting thoughts clashed in his mind.
Part of him wanted 20-year-old Hajin to live his life unburdened.
Another part couldn't bear to discard everything 29-year-old Hajin had endured.
"If my 'Fixed Regressor' personality vanishes after this... does that mean I revert to just the 20-year-old me? Wouldn't that seem weird to everyone around me?"
[System Alert: In your case, integration between personalities is already advanced.]
[System Alert: 'Wanderer Mode' deactivated thanks to your growth in this life, too.]
[System Alert: So when this ends... you'll have a choice.]
SAVE OR DELETE
[System Alert: Keep the stats and experience absorbed from 'Fixed Regressor' and continue as your 'base' self.]
[System Alert: Or fully merge 'Fixed Regressor' with 'base,' living on as current Hajin.]
[System Alert: The decision is yours.]
Hajin stared at the prompt hovering before him.
This wasn't something to decide lightly.
He exhaled, smiling coolly.
"Yeah. That's fair."
[System Alert: Are you sure...? You were dragged into this because of us...]
"What can I say? Back when I worked in editing, I'd be just as screwed if deadlines hit and I had no draft ready."
Hajin shrugged, leaning back into the sofa.
"Besides, if you'd sold me out and still got no leads, that'd piss me off. But that's not the case, right? I've learned a lot this life. Gained a lot, too. Let's call it even."
[System Alert: .........]
[System Alert: ๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐]
[System Alert: You're too good...!]
"Yeah, yeah. Now let's focus. We've got work to do."
Patting the now-tearful Sipsam (complete with Pew! Pew! crying effects), Hajin chuckled.
With a dramatic sniffle, Sipsam whooshed into action—now with audio support—and clicked to the next slide.
<02. Why Did The Spinner Attack the Mental Care System?>
[System Alert: To explain this, there's something you need to know first.]
Suddenly, serious background music swelled.
...Really? Now?
Hajin decided to let it slide—Sipsam seemed too excited.
The slide changed, displaying profiles of Yu-geon and the Blue Flare team under the heading:
<The Reason for This Regression?>
[System Alert: This regression happened because of Blue Flare.]
[System Alert: Or rather... it was orchestrated for them—by the Chosen Regressor.]
...What?