The Regressor Is Startled (4)
The Regressor Is Startled (4)
The theory that the clone has been through this before, just like me.
It was still only a theory. But there was a way to prove it.
First, I bit my cheek to trigger a quick regression.
[You have taken damage.]
[Regressing to the moment you first entered Floor 5.]
***
"Congratulations!"
"Congratulations!"
The black cube that had confined me vanished, and the angels sounded their fanfare.
"Goodbye!"
I sprinted for the temple exit at full speed. The floor was covered with soft, puffy clouds, but I could probably run on them.
[You cannot proceed any further.]
No, the Archangel had it blocked off. I'd planned to escape somewhere into the clouds and see if the clone could track me down. The strategy of fleeing the temple was a bust.
"Then how about this?"
This time, I ran toward the far side of the vast temple, where the clone would appear. Thanks to having regressed four times already, I knew exactly where the clone spawned.
"Huff, huff..."
The temple was unrealistically vast, but not so wide that a superhuman couldn't cross it at full speed. I reached the approximate spot where the clone would appear and slowly caught my breath.
"Fellow climbers. What do you think is 'humanity's greatest strength'? Of course, there could be many answers. But the answer I believe in is one."
I focused on Archangel Raphael's voice echoing softly from the distance. Having heard the speech multiple times, I already knew when it would end.
"Then, I hope you continue to strive forward. I shall take my leave now."
How long had I waited? At last, Raphael's voice faded.
—Wooong.
Right before my eyes, something shaped like a black cube materialized. A design similar to the one I was always trapped in whenever I entered Floor 5. The clone was probably inside.
"..."
Carefully, so my footsteps wouldn't make a sound, I moved to the back of the cube. I planned to catch the clone from behind at the perfect moment, right as the black object disappeared.
—Wooong!
And finally, the moment the cube vanished.
"Hap!"
Whooosh!
I aimed my kick at where the clone would be and swung with all my strength.
"..."
But the clone was already looking my way, as if expecting it.
Crunch!
Dodging the kick, the clone stomped hard on my planted foot, crushing a toenail.
"Agh..."
[You have taken damage.]
[Regressing to the moment you first entered Floor 5.]
***
Raphael's long speech ended, and the clone stood before me once again.
"Hiss..."
My toenail still throbbed. But this settled it. My clone was also repeating regressions.
Let's assume my clone and I both have the ability to regress. Anyone who's read a bit of sci-fi will know just how complicated that short sentence makes things.
If one of us regresses, what happens to the other? Parallel worlds? Multiverse? Or do they simply regress with you? Time and space are topics that make your head ache just looking at them, and the deeper you dig, the fewer answers you get.
But I'd been given a few clues, and I derived a single theory from them. The theory was this: 'My clone and I cannot perceive each other's regressions.'
The very first time I entered Floor 5, my clone was in terrible shape. His eyes were glassy and dull, and his mouth muttered something constantly. I chalked it up to him being a half-baked copy, a clone that couldn't properly replicate the original. But what if that wasn't it?
What if the clone I saw the instant I stepped onto Floor 5 had actually already been through dozens, hundreds, maybe thousands of regressions? What if he'd lost his mind because of it?
If that's the correct answer, it's not hard to guess how things played out.
Cycle 1. My clone and I face each other. I'm not sure how he perceives the situation, but the Archangel likely set us up to fight. We clash, and with my superior stats and skills, I subdue him in a flash.
And the clone regresses. He enters Cycle 2. But he's still not strong enough to beat me. He regresses. Regresses. Regresses.
The clone, repeating regressions over and over. At some point, he reaches the same conclusion I did: 'If I take even one hit, I regress.' And he decides to aim for the back of my hand as I hold the sword.
"Huh?"
That was my first regression. But just like me, my clone could not perceive my regression either.
And what did I do after that first regression?
At first, I hung back without attacking, watching for an opening. Then I used every ability at my disposal to launch a thrust. From the clone's perspective, my behavior probably changed out of nowhere and threw him off.
Whatever happened, the clone regressed again. He must have repeated countless regressions to defeat a 'Kim Jun-ho who isn't letting his guard down.' To be honest, I have no idea how many times he repeated it, but it definitely wasn't a small number.
Claaaang!
"Aaaaaaagh!!!"
But, after all those regressions, he beat me again. A genuine triumph against a mighty foe. Considering the enormous physical gap between my clone and me, he must have poured in a monstrous amount of effort.
But this time, I came back with a new strategy: 'If I do nothing, I win.'
In a situation where either of us loses if we get hit, the one who moves first is at a fatal disadvantage. For a regressor whose entire body is a weak point, the very act of extending yourself to attack reveals those vulnerabilities.
I don't know if he regressed just before getting subdued because my tactic actually worked, or if he gave up early and started the regression himself. Either way, the clone kept repeating regressions to break through me.
In fiction, a wizened old man can subdue a healthy young guy with a single finger. Reality doesn't work that way. Unless the skill gap is heaven and earth, the side with better physical specs always wins.
How many regressions did my clone go through to overcome this absolute physical gap? How hard did he fight?
Of course, he eventually succeeded. He took me down, showing off an impossible technique that could change his sword's trajectory mid-swing. After ages of bitter endurance, he achieved his goal.
"Heh..."
It's a fresh reminder of how absurdly unfair regression is. All the effort a regressor pours in vanishes into the cracks of time. Only the result remains. To a third party watching, a regressor just undergoes insane growth and gets stronger at an absurd pace. That's probably the same feeling others got when they looked at me.
"Hey."
"..."
"What are we going to do about this?"
But if this theory is true, we've essentially been playing an invisible game of ping-pong.
Neither of us can perceive the other's regression. Time flows for the loser; time stops for the winner. The loser regresses and regresses until he finally wins, but the moment he does, time starts flowing again for the side that had just won. We've been running a marathon where only the result of 'defeat' remains.
"..."
"He's not talking."
In this situation, no one can ever truly win. No 'victory' can remain as an outcome. The moment someone wins, the loser regresses and erases that win. The loser repeats regressions until he wins, but the moment he does, it all goes back to square one.
This was the Avici hell, literal and unending. A fight with no end. A chicken game with no winner. For all intents and purposes, my clone and I were trapped on Floor 5 forever.
"...No."
There was still a possibility of escape. I'd probably win. Why? Because of the physical gap.
"..."
The clone was already a total wreck. He was muttering to himself with a hollowed-out face, like a heroine from a dime novel.
Compared to him, I was relatively fine. Of course, what I went through on Floors 3 and 4 set me apart from any normal person, but I was still in much better shape than that guy, who'd regressed thousands of times at a minimum. And I'd gotten a bit better, thanks to Choi Ji-won.
The reason was simple. The clone stood in a position far more disadvantageous than mine.
To keep pace with a single step I take forward, he has to work dozens of times harder. When our talents are equal to begin with, how could he possibly grow fast enough to overcome my physical superiority?
"The flow of time the two of us experience is different."
The density of time we each feel is different. A single cycle for me might be dozens of cycles for him.
If a very, very long time were to pass... who would break first?
Whose sanity would crumble first under the flow of time?
If someone can't even form a thought and just lies there vacantly, that'll probably count as 'subdued.'
It's cruel, but I have no choice if I want to win.
I'd steeled myself to continue this endless marathon.
"I'm sorry, friend."
Until that clone's mind completely and utterly shatters.