Chapter 207
Chapter 207
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 207
Chapter Title: The Regression Virus
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7
Even against the onslaught of the enemy—a monster presumably on the level of an Outer God—we didn't panic.
It wasn't just me. The entire Regression Alliance, the shadow powers currently monopolizing control over the Korean Peninsula, remained unflustered.
Of course they did.
-Another virus?
-The monsters must lack imagination. Seems like pandemics are the only way they know to screw humanity over...
-So they're stronger than COVID?
Yeah.
At this point, the Korean Peninsula had accumulated far too much experience to freak out over a pandemic and wail about the end of the world.
We issued announcements via Constellation Talk, SG Net, and the like: "An unidentified virus is currently rampant. Citizens, please handle it with your usual proficiency."
The citizens responded swiftly. Neighborhood patrols, quarantine by district, shared schedules to avoid overlapping paths, and so on.
However, this "Regression Virus" was a bit different. It was enough to mock the long-established pandemic defenses of the Korean Peninsula.
"What do you mean, how are we supposed to block an infection that spreads through dreams...?"
Its difficulty could be summed up in one line from No Do-ha.
"If it's a disease spreading through reality, you can at least think of lockdowns or eliminations. But this? It's just whether I appear in the dream of someone you've [Time Sealed] or not that decides infection..."
"I've already sent the Tutorial Fairies into the patients' dreams."
"Those hoeeek vending machines are supposed to stop a disease...?"
"No. Buying time is the best they can do."
In short: impossible to quarantine.
No matter how calm and composed the Korean Peninsula's command structure was, the situation was scorching hot.
Unless one's aura realm reached the absolute pinnacle, no human could go without sleep for long.
Everyone fell asleep. Everyone got infected through dreams.
Just one day in, and SG Net was already in chaos. That alone showed how serious things were.
-Anonymous: [Pandemic] Going insane; every time I close my eyes, scenes of my deaths from past rounds keep flashing up.
-Anonymous: [Pandemic] The world is looping, and this life is just one of countless copies.
-Anonymous: [Pandemic] For members not infected yet, take notes and refer to this.txt
-Anonymous: [Pandemic] This place is hell.
Testimonies from the infected were pouring in.
I personally interviewed some of them.
Their accounts of the "Regression Virus symptoms" were largely consistent.
"Th-the world is looping! I'm sure of it! Look! Even this conversation we're having right now definitely happened before!"
Symptom 1: Intense déjà vu.
When mild, it was just light déjà vu. But as the disease worsened, the sensation intensified.
"Please calm down, sir. This is our first meeting. Even if there were past rounds, we've never had a conversation like this."
"N-no. You just haven't realized it yet. Right. You're reacting so casually because you haven't grasped that the world is looping!"
"......"
Who would've thought I'd get life advice on regression of all things.
As I felt a fresh yet oddly subtle emotion, the patient shuddered, biting their nails. Their eyes were already unfocused.
"That expression of yours... those eyes... I've seen them all before. It's all pointless. We're going to die again. Loop again. Live the exact same life as if nothing happened... I hate it. I don't want to die. I don't want to live..."
"Hm."
Symptom 2: Extreme fear of regression.
Considering how normal people dreamed of becoming regressors to suck the sweet nectar of life, Symptom 2 was incredibly bizarre.
In truth, it stemmed from Symptom 1.
If you actually became a regressor from some story, you'd revel in forging a "completely different" path from your previous life.
But the Regression Virus was different.
Its most vicious aspect was making victims feel that every thought and action had already been "repeated thousands, tens of thousands of times."
No matter how novel the choice seemed, it was futile.
Playing a brand-new game release, reading a new novel from a favorite author—patients felt they'd experienced it all countless times before.
Inevitably. Regardless of the choice—a crushing déjà vu.
In other words.
'Maybe calling it a Déjà Vu Virus would be more accurate than Regression Virus.'
Above all, this wasn't true awareness of regression like mine.
One patient pointed at me the moment they saw me during the interview.
"Undertaker? Aren't you... a woman?"
"Pardon?"
"Why are you a man this round? Oh, right. Yeah, there were plenty of rounds where you were a man."
Utter nonsense.
This was the third hallmark of the Regression Virus.
In essence, it wasn't genuine recognition of regression—it merely induced the "illusion" of having regressed countless times.
Question them on past round events, and they'd list nothing but inaccurate details.
Ask about the future, and they'd ramble incoherently.
But even if it was pure illusion, we couldn't let our guard down.
Finishing the interview and stepping out, I saw No Do-ha leaning against the wall.
She looked my way.
"Suicide count discovered so far today: 136. Undiscovered ones are probably way higher..."
"......"
"The infected fall into two types. Extremely violent ones who kill others, or severe apathy sufferers who kill themselves. What kind of idiotic disease is this..."
She tugged at her black leather gloves with a creak.
Under the dim lighting, the long contours of her five fingers tightened sharply.
"So, what do you plan to do...?"
No Do-ha's question carried two implications.
One was obvious: what exactly are we going to do?
No matter how elusive the Tutorial Fairies were, blocking every patient's dream was impossible. The day all 3 million Korean Peninsula survivors' symptoms worsened wasn't far off.
The other, hidden meaning:
-Are you giving up on this round?
For now, Regression Alliance members had mild symptoms, but they'd likely worsen rapidly in days.
Then, I might witness my cherished allies murdering someone—or themselves.
-I could kill them for you if you don't want to see that mess.
As she'd done several times before.
In some rounds I hadn't disclosed, I'd actually been killed by No Do-ha that way.
"We can't surrender."
But not this time.
"This monster isn't the type that gets easier to tackle by jumping to a new round. If anything, it's the opposite."
"The opposite...?"
"The host of this pandemic is none other than the dreams of people I've [Time Sealed] away. And [Time Seal] is immune to rounds. No matter how many times I regress, those crystal tombstones stay sealed in place."
No Do-ha's eyes widened slightly.
"Even if you regress, the pandemic lingers inside those tombstones...?"
"Yes. Probably."
I nodded.
"The Regression Virus itself might not have originated suddenly in this round. It could have been building up since the crystal tombstones appeared—since Round 4—mutating until it exploded now."
"How many rounds did you say this is...?"
"Round 267."
"Fuck..."
Exactly.
If my hypothesis was correct, the "virus" had found the one safe zone in this looping world that persisted unchanging.
Inside the [Time Seal].
The point no regressor could alter, no matter how they thrashed—the irreversible crux.
Just like that pink entity named Go Yo-ri coiling deep in my unconscious—.
The virus had fortified its Maginot Line against my regressions.
"If you're a regressor but regression is useless, what's the point of your existence? That somewhat sane head and those dead-fish eyes...?"
"I brew good coffee."
"Not needed..."
"I bestow power, honor, and wealth on a Grade-7 civil servant knight like you."
"Fuck. Really don't need it...?"
"I can mediate when Dang Seo-rin and Cheon Yo-hwa fight. Not just anyone can do that."
"They wouldn't fight if you weren't around, you fucker..."
"Hoe-eek!"
The one who halted No Do-ha's endless barrage of vitriol wasn't a person—it was, unexpectedly, a Tutorial Fairy.
Poof! Fairy No. 264 appeared in midair, waving her magic wand wildly and causing a commotion.
"Secretary General comrade! Big trouble! Huge trouble!"
"What? World's Strongest Sausage all gone?"
"Not that catastrophic, but still a major incident...!"
I tossed her the product in question. The fairy, addicted to World's Strongest Sausage, devoured the apricot-colored sausage skin and all, beaming happily. This was how you kept Tutorial Fairies loyal—constant management, like breathing.
"Hoe! While rigorously marking carriers' dreams per Secretary General comrade's orders...! I discovered something shocking, shocking!"
"What is it?"
"Seeing is believing! On-site inspection is a core duty of Communist cadres! Secretary General comrade, come on!"
8
The only places a fairy would invite me were the Tutorial Dungeon or someone's dream.
With all Korean Peninsula Tutorial Dungeons shuttered, our meeting spot was naturally a carrier's dream—specifically, soccer player Kim Joo-cheol's dreamscape.
"Per Secretary General comrade's strict orders, we've been managing this human's dream extra carefully!"
The fairy flitted about.
When I arrived, the whole neighborhood had been rampaging with fire festivals, but now it was eerily quiet.
The stadium was intact.
Spectators and players alike were all passed out, speech bubbles of "zzz..." floating above them.
Dreamscape specialist. Incubus powers at work.
"To prevent further symptom worsening, here's our method! We put all this world's residents to sleep, enter their dreams to put them to sleep again, enter those dream-within-dreams to put them to sleep yet again!"
"...Similar to delving into the unconscious realm."
"Hoe-e! Spot on! As expected of Secretary General comrade!"
The fairy buzzed excitedly.
"If you keep dragging normal humans into dream-within-dreams, the form distorts and warps beyond recognition, melting away the virus's playground like candle wax! That's how we've been containing it!"
Oh, and incidentally, Tutorial Fairies could be left inside [Time Seals] without issue.
Humans would vanish eternally if abandoned that way, but for some reason, the fairies could enter and exit freely with just my "permission."
When I asked how:
-Hoe! Secretary General comrade calls this a graveyard, but to us, it's no different from a dream!
Fairy senses are mysterious.
"But here, come check out individual Kim Joo-cheol's dream with me!"
We entered.
Kim Joo-cheol was snoozing in the middle of the soccer field grass. Holding the fairy's hand (still humming that bizarre lullaby), I delved into his dream.
And then.
-Did you watch the Olympics yesterday?
-Everyone! Trust in the goddess! Let's live in paradise trusting the goddess!
-Baaang!
-Dad, I told you not to talk politics for real!
Teeming crowds.
Countless pedestrians chattered busily as they hurried along.
It had been so long since I'd seen such a sight in reality that I'd forgotten—but later, I realized it was Seoul Station.
"This is...?"
People fiddling with smartphones. Cars honking on the roads. College students climbing the station stairs.
The daily life of humanity before the world ended must've looked like this.
"...Is this really Kim Joo-cheol's dream?"
Not to disparage Kim Joo-cheol personally.
As the fairy explained before entry, the unconscious couldn't produce such "refined, rational" scenes.
Even I, with [Perfect Memory], emerged from Busan Station into a vast desert in the unconscious realm.
But this place?
For a mere fantasy from Kim Joo-cheol's unconscious, everything felt far too real.
Even the acrid exhaust fumes from the asphalt road had vivid texture.
Matching reality. No.
Identical to reality.
"Hoe! Hard to define dream vs. not, but we'll call it the [Backworld]! One thing's certain!"
"What?"
"The Backworld is Korean Peninsula-sized and still expanding in real time! A bit more effort, and it'll surpass the real world—fighting!"
The fairy declared.
"And it's not just Kim Joo-cheol—anyone you pick connects here!"
"...What?"
"All reality-infected people have been whisked away to this Backworld, without exception!"