Chapter 167
Chapter 167
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 167
Chapter Title: Infinite Regressor Spinning Tales
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“Welcome aboard, Undertaker.”
As I stared at them, they stared right back at me.
The “Undertaker” sitting with his legs crossed in the emergency exit row at the front of the plane shot me a crooked glance.
“Of course, I have no idea which worldline’s Undertaker you are.”
“Does that make it 107 in total?”
“Including our companions, it’s 214 people.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Hundreds of Undertakers chimed in with their own remarks or snorted derisively. The plane erupted into chaos in an instant.
“Well, if you lot are really human, then calling it ‘people’ works just fine. But what if everyone except me is a monster?”
“Oh. Looks like we’ve got a smart ‘me’ over here. I was just thinking the same thing. Why don’t you set an example and let us exorcise you first?”
My mind went blank.
“…Hold on. Stop whispering among yourselves and explain the situation to me too. What the hell is this? Doppelgangers? The doppelganger’s supposed to be in Cheon Yo-hwa’s Poké Ball right now.”
“An explanation? Ha. If you’ve got a birdbrain instead of a proper one in your skull, then count for yourself, you idiot.”
The “Undertakers” sighed, shrugged their shoulders, or crunched on the in-flight peanuts.
“You’re the 107th ‘me.’”
“Got it? The 107th. Every time a ‘me’ boards this plane, we have to explain the situation, so this makes dozens of times we’ve repeated the same damn thing.”
“No matter how fun each regression loop is or how fresh it feels every time, we’re not thrilled about repeating this explanation labor so many times in such a short span.”
“No helping it, then. The 106th me will explain.”
Another Undertaker stood up.
Uniquely, this one seemed to fantasize that his hometown was London’s Baker Street—he was wearing a Sherlock Holmes hat.
Actually, no—they were all the same Undertaker, but with subtle differences in details. One had dressed up in matching cosplay animal costumes with his companion. What the hell are you?
“We’re all here because, for our own reasons, we each decided to ‘set off on a trip with Dang Seo-rin.’ Number 107. Where are you planning to travel?”
“…Uyuni Desert.”
“Oh. My.”
Sighs echoed from all around. The 106th Sherlock Undertaker eyed us both with eyes brimming with pity.
“Ha-yul lost her heart there once, didn’t she?”
“Hah. In that worldline, did Ha-yul really die in the 110th loop? Incompetent. I saved her.”
“That place didn’t mix Inca myths and Aztec myths into some horrific hybrid monstrosity?”
“It’s where humanity first developed an infinite power device. Just offer up a human heart, and it automatically replenishes with solar energy.”
“……”
Dang Seo-rin gripped my hand tightly beside me. Her palm was hotter than usual, practically burning.
“…Undertaker. What the hell are they talking about? Loops? What’s this about going on a trip with Ha-yul?”
“Idiot. Your Undertaker—no, all of us Undertakers—are regressors. Number 107 me.”
The Dang Seo-rin in the front row spoke up.
For the record, this Dang Seo-rin wasn’t wearing a witch hat or robe. Shockingly, she was in a “school uniform.”
A school uniform, of all things. Wasn’t that the exclusive uniform of our rival Baekhwa Girls’ High School?
Naturally, the original Dang Seo-rin (number 107) wasn’t pleased to see it.
Dang Seo-rin’s eyes turned to the look of a spectator spotting someone who’d shown up to a military parade in North Korean cosplay.
“What the hell are you?”
“Dang Seo-rin. And a refined person trying to politely explain the situation to someone in that insane outfit.”
The school uniform Dang Seo-rin smiled sweetly.
“The Undertaker is a regressor. He’s already looped back hundreds of times. If you’re a ‘me’ too, you must have suspected it deep down, right?”
“……”
“Now you’ll start grilling the Undertaker with ‘Is it true?’ just like I did. I get it, but please consider our position—we’re the ones who have to watch it. I’ve already seen this scene loop a hundred times.”
That was when it happened.
An Undertaker sitting midway down the plane stood up. Uniquely, this one used polite speech.
“Everyone. One of us has to get off here.”
“What?”
“How dense. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
The polite-speech Undertaker smirked with a sly eye smile.
“With that last Undertaker boarding, the plane’s passenger count is locked at 214. Exactly the same as the death toll in the 1997 Flight 801 crash, isn’t it?”
“Ah.”
“Indeed.”
“Heh. Finally caught on, have you? Well, it’s late, but not too late. That’s right, everyone. If the plane takes off like this, disaster is guaranteed.”
“Oh……”
I was impressed too. That bastard’s sharp.
His tone was annoying as hell, though.
He was even pressing a finger to his lips with a “shh” gesture. Gave me chills. Why the dramatic bullshit?
Seeing the exact same face as mine making that gesture from ten meters away was twisting my guts.
“Here’s my proposal. If we don’t want to recreate the plane crash, at least one of us needs to get off.”
“What.”
“We don’t wanna get off?”
“Y-Yes. Of course, the Dang Seo-rins traveling with you all will be bitterly disappointed that their long-awaited overseas trip—stalked for two whole years—is ruined, but it’s still better than all of us plummeting into the Pacific……”
Bang!
The polite-speech Undertaker’s head exploded mid-rant.
No need to call in Kim Jeon-il or Conan to find the culprit. The “thug Undertaker” in the back row was openly radiating aura.
“Sorry about that.”
The thug Undertaker grinned. The scar around his eye crinkled.
“His tone was so punchable, I couldn’t hold back.”
The 106 other assembled Undertakers, myself included, all sympathized. An utterly justified motive.
“If I’d had time, I would’ve ripped his eyelids open and told him to keep his damn eyes properly open, but whatever. Anyway, that cocky prick’s accident talk is off the table now. I wish you all a happy trip……”
“What’re you saying, you murderer bastard!”
But the Dang Seo-rin who monopolized Busan’s legal authority (the polite-speech Undertaker’s partner) thought otherwise.
“Die!”
Watson Dang Seo-rin immediately unleashed murder magic.
Thud. Hit point-blank with an Avada Kedavra, the thug Undertaker foamed at the mouth and collapsed. For all his tough looks, his combat prowess was pathetic.
“Kyaaah!”
The gal Dang Seo-rin next to the thug Undertaker screamed.
“You dared to kill my Undertaker!”
“You killed my Undertaker first!”
“Ow! Why hit me!”
Boom! Bang bang! Pop!
The cabin turned into pandemonium in seconds. Dang Seo-rins sang from all directions, chanting grand magics.
When the Undertakers joined in, unable to watch their partners get hurt, nothing intact remained in the plane.
Even so, the fuselage itself held up. At minimum, this was a colossal monster.
“Undertaker!”
In this chaotic savage world, my one righteous and normal Dang Seo-rin (witch-railway-otaku) shouted.
She was the only one clinging to the plane door, grunting with effort.
“It won’t open! I triple-layered destruction magic, and it’s not budging!”
“Maybe it’s better if it doesn’t. Dang Seo-rin, look out the window.”
“Out the window? Why the wi—Gasp.”
The plane was already flying. No takeoff rumble, no acceleration—just straight into the sky. Truly, monster tech was top-tier.
How advanced was the science? It wasn’t mere atmosphere; it was cruising through space. The moon’s surface stretched out right below the wings.
“This is space?”
“Yeah. The monster must’ve mixed up plane and spaceship. They do look similar from afar.”
“I-I didn’t know a South America trip would be this dangerous……!”
“Me neither. This is a first.”
“Get me out of here!”
“No. Don’t open any windows or doors by mistake. That’s not real space out there—it’s probably [Space Void]. The kind where [going out naked makes you explode and die].”
“Why are all monsters like this!”
While we savored the fantasy of space travel, the others indulged in a bloodbath romance, washing away their fatigue with gore.
Blood sprayed everywhere. Severed heads of Undertakers and Dang Seo-rins rolled down the aisles. Hmm. Surrealist.
“Wait! Everyone, calm down! This is an utterly inefficient massacre. I don’t know if this is a parallel world monster or what, but if we combine forces, we could even save the world……”
“Good point, but can you take off that animal costume first?”
“Sorry. This is essential to my Undertaker identity; I can’t remove it.”
“Kill that furry freak first!”
A brutal variety survival show unfolded.
In the end, the 214 dwindled to 102. Mostly the excessively “abnormal” Undertakers and Dang Seo-rins went first.
Among the surviving Dang Seo-rins were the school uniform one, the stuttering-glasses one, the squinting-shrine-maiden one, the blonde-sero-rolled-samurai one, and so on.
This was peak collective insanity.
I shouldn’t say this traveling with a witch Dang Seo-rin, but was there truly not a single normal person here?
With a heavy heart, I spoke up.
“First…… Let’s all sit down and talk. The furry Undertaker got dismembered, but he had a point. About our alliance.”
“Mm.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“If we combine forces, even heaven’s armies would pale in comparison. We can ignore Old Man Show and save the world ourselves.”
“But if everyone except me is a monster, isn’t that assumption useless?”
“That’s exactly where my proposal comes in.”
I flashed a triumphant smile.
“If they’re real humans, not monsters, then the Saintess’s [Clairvoyance] and [Telepathy] will connect.”
“Oh?”
“This is space void. It only looks like space; we’re probably still over the Korean Peninsula. Any ‘Undertakers’ the Saintess’s telepathy can’t reach here are fakes. Monsters.”
“Logical.”
“Excellent method.”
I nodded, basking in the Undertakers’ admiration. Then I looked up at the plane’s ceiling.
“Well then, Saintess? Are you watching? Please respond.”
[Yes.]
“As expected, you are. Thank goodness. Then, tell only me which ones among us are fakes……”
That was the moment.
[Yes.]
[Yes.]
[Yes.]
The Saintess’s voice began to “overlap.”
“Huh?”
It didn’t stop there.
[Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.] [Yes.]
[I’m still checking right now.]
[It’s hard to find even one fake.]
[My ‘Clairvoyance’ connects to all of them.]
[Hard to believe, but every Undertaker and Dang Seo-rin present……]
[Has to be judged real.]
[Of course, we must consider the chance I myself am infected by a monster.]
[Undertaker?]
[Undertaker, why no response?]
[Undertaker?] [Undertaker?] [Undertaker?] [Undertaker?] [Undertaker?] [Undertaker?] [Undertaker?] [Undertaker?] [Undertaker?]
“……”
Well.
Yeah.
We’re totally fucked.
[No, wait a sec.]
A grim possibility flashed through my mind.
If there were 51 Undertakers and 51 Dang Seo-rins, plus 51 Saintesses. If in this plane’s void, every entity could be observed 51 times in principle.
“Then the monsters?”
For the same reason.
The outer gods might multiply by 51 too.
This wasn’t an “Undertaker duplication” event. No way something that convenient would happen.
The opposite. This plane itself was an outer god gacha with UP pickup rates.
“……”
-…….
-…….
My gaze—our gazes, the Undertakers’—secretly crossed.
The looks were lethal. Everyone here had likely communed with their own channel’s “Saintesses” and faced the same phenomenon.
And reached the same conclusion.
[If at least one [Undertaker] gets off when the plane lands. And the existence of multiple Undertakers gets confirmed on the ground—]
[The monsters—and outer gods—will balloon by that same number!]
[If all 51 Undertakers exist, then Go Yo-ri will exist 51 times too.]
[This is insane.]
[Only one of us Undertakers can get off this plane.]
Yes.
Now, kill each other (me).