I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell

‘How should I build a hideout to receive praise for it?’

A hideout. My personal secret base.

As everyone knows, I have one major trauma.

It happened in the 89th cycle when a pink-haired alien named Go Yuri raided my base in one fell swoop.

Since that incident, a corner of my brain has been perpetually haunted by the ASMR full voice of Go Yuri saying, ‘A pathetic ♡ infinite regressor raided with just one hypnotic beam ♡ pathetic hideout ♡.’

Of course, there’s no way Go Yuri actually spoke like that. If she knew about my trauma, she’d probably tilt her head in confusion. It showed how severe my mental scars were, to be tormented by such fantasies.

I needed a solution desperately.

Hence, today's story revolves around an episode about my sweet home.

Though I hadn’t mentioned it directly to everyone until now, the truth is that I had explored my own El Dorado across many cycles.

There were various kinds of utopias.

I tried setting up a luxury yacht as a mobile sea fortress and even started a life on an uninhabited island.

Skyscrapers, underground bunkers, subway tracks, railguns—if people could imagine a form of a hideout, I had tried it.

Yet, none of these hideouts ever completely satisfied my aesthetic sense.

2%. It was always missing 2%.

“Oppa’s standards are too high.”

Puppeteer Lee Ha-yul grumbled.

Of course, her lips were tightly closed. She spoke through the maid marionette she always carried.

Lee Ha-yul, the daughter of a notorious traitor (former mayor of Busan), had a talent for pulling puppet strings from under her fingernails.

Her puppet strings were almost superconductors in the realm of aura, capable of transmitting aura with almost no loss to the tip of the string. This miraculous superconductor was very useful for hideout security.

In constructing an impregnable hideout, her cooperation was not optional but essential.

Not just me, but Noh Do-hwa and Cheon Yo-hwa also always hired her when renovating their base buildings.

Even such an expert showed difficulty with my requests as the building owner.

“Tell me honestly. Without lying. What is your ideal guild building?”

“First and foremost, it should be able to withstand prolonged physical attacks from the outside.”

“Like an underground bunker?”

Lee Ha-yul nodded.

“Possible. That’s what all guild leaders want. What else?”

“I’d also like it to be able to adequately deal with intruders who use non-physical means.”

“Possible. We can make it difficult to enter, like a maze.”

“But guild members should also be able to deploy quickly. There need to be many secret passages.”

“……?”

“And I don’t want to force harsh living conditions on my guild members. They should be able to lead a more affluent life than members of other guilds. For example, if they want to take a walk along the Han River, they should be able to do so immediately, and the view should be nice if possible.”

“…….”

Lee Ha-yul closed her notebook and looked up at me with her golden eyes.

“Oppa. Where is your conscience?”

Surely, it was a shameless demand.

To completely block the invasion of the alien Go Yuri, perfect security was needed.

But security and convenience, once they surpassed a certain level, were difficult to coexist. It’s like expecting five-star hotel room service on a nuclear submarine.

If I just treated Go Yuri as a non-existent entity—ah! In my head! The pink voice in my head! Iä! Iä! Become one with me, guild leader!

In the end, the days of suffering from the echo of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra’s chorus continued.

Then, one day in the 196th cycle.

I was brooding, sitting at a table by the Han River, staring blankly at the water.

At that moment, a man I had never seen before approached on a mountain bike. He had two pistols at his waist, a backpack, and a rifle slung over his back. It was the latest fashion in the apocalypse.

“Huh…? Is this not the place?”

The biker stopped about 600 meters away and looked around.

“That’s strange. SG Net definitely said it was here…”

The mention of SG Net piqued my interest.

At this time, I had given up on security entirely and built my hideout under the Han River. It was near the convenience store where I first met the Saintess.

And in the vicinity, there were no buildings except my hideout. The so-called ‘Summer of Seoul’ incident had devoured most of Gangnam south of the Han River along with Old Man Scho’s wife.

In other words, the place the biker was looking for was most likely my guild hideout. As the owner, I had to inquire about his intentions.

“What’s the matter?”

“Eek!”

The biker flinched. I had approached and spoken to him while masking my presence.

The man reflexively reached for his rifle but soon decided against it, realizing it would only provoke me.

“Ah, well, I heard there’s a café around here that serves fantastic coffee…”

“A rumor?”

“Yes. Um, do you know SG Net? I’m an awakener. SG Net said there’s a famous café along the Han River. This is the only building that looks like a café.”

“A café?”

I tilted my head.

…It was only later that I learned by searching SG Net that the culprits behind this rumor were none other than Dang Seo-rin and Cheon Yo-hwa.

They had posted about it competitively on the forums.

-[Baekhwa] FourthGrader: Hwee (>_<)! The cream latte while looking at the Han River is the best (>_<)!!

(Certification shot. No face, just holding a cream latte cup in her left hand, toasting towards the Han River)

-[Samcheon] WitchJudge: The preciousness of tasting coffee with more flavor than before the world fell apart. Magical autumn.

(Certification shot. Only a witch hat and a coffee cup on the table, taken with the Han River in the background)

Occasionally, Dang Seo-rin or Cheon Yo-hwa would visit my hideout. Since my hobby was being a barista, I naturally served them coffee.

Their competitive posting of these on SG Net caused a rumor to spread that ‘there’s an amazing café in Gangnam!’

-OldManGoryeo: Morning Coffee.jpeg

The final blow was delivered by my direct guild member, ‘Bird Drinking Aggro.’

-OldManGoryeo: I can’t function without my morning caffeine fix.

-OldManGoryeo: Today’s Café Mocha.png

-OldManGoryeo: Surely, there’s no one in SG Net too poor to drink coffee, right? If there is, your presence lowers the forum’s class, so kindly commit suicide at your earliest convenience ㅇㅇ……

-OldManGoryeo: This hyung’s barista skills.jpg

The composition of the photos posted daily by Shim Ah-ryun overlapped suspiciously with the certification shots by Dang Seo-rin and Cheon Yo-hwa, increasing the credibility of the ‘Gangnam café’ rumor among SG Net users.

Our biker had been lured in by this rumor and had come all the way from Gangwon-do to Seoul.

“There’s no café around here. As you know, all proper shops in Gangnam are gone. There’s only the Tower of Sauron over there, but that’s a void.”

“Oh… I see.”

The biker’s expression darkened.

He looked barely in his early twenties.

I smiled.

“But I can make some coffee. It’s a coincidence that we met, so how about a cup?”

“Pardon?”

At first, he hesitated, but after I insisted, he couldn’t hide his joy and accepted.

As a result,

“Wow, this is… really good. Wow, sir. This tastes way better than that Gangnam café must have…”

“Thank you.”

“Wow, really, thank you so much! This is incredible!”

“It’s nothing. If you ever get coffee beans, feel free to come by. I’ll make you some then, too.”

“Ah. Thank you so much…!”

The biker tried to offer me bullets and emergency rations as thanks, but I politely declined. They were of no use to me.

He left, bowing repeatedly even while mounting his bike.

As his bike glided over the scarred asphalt road, I realized that today’s unexpected encounter had been quite enjoyable.

“Ah.”

At that moment, enlightenment struck.

I finally understood what kind of hideout I wanted and why I had always been dissatisfied with the ones I had tried.

‘A café. It’s a café!’

Indeed.

I had always wanted to run a café.

After a long time, the passion in a regressor’s heart burned brightly.

“Oppa. So, you mean you want to run a café alongside the guild hideout?”

“Yes. A café-style hideout.”

“What the hell is that, you otaku?”

Lee Ha-yul did not understand my idea at all, but I was not disappointed.

Pioneers are always scorned by the ignorant masses.

The café I intended to create had never existed in the history of the world. It could only be born from my design, from start to finish.

“It’s unpleasant. Cafés are shops. Accessibility is everything for a shop. Don’t you agree?”

“Hmm.”

“What you want is physical security. Plus, security that can never be breached by mental or hypnotic means. How? How can a café and a hideout coexist?”

“Ah, Ha-yul. You’re too bound by conventional thinking. In this world where anomalies and voids run rampant, we can’t cling to such outdated approaches.”

“…I’ll let you in on a secret. Sometimes Noh Do-hwa, when she’s drinking, calls me over to rant about you. For three hours straight.”

“……?”

“Her drunken habits are a hassle… But, recently, I might be starting to understand her feelings.”

“……?”

Ignoring the unreasonable slander, I presented my solution.

“We can achieve a two-for-one with an anomaly.”

“An anomaly?”

Lee Ha-yul blinked.

“…How?”

Like this.

That day, I took Ha-yul and headed to Busan. The last remnants of the Japan-Korea undersea tunnel, Inunaki Tunnel, remained in the waters off Busan.

Inunaki Tunnel. This anomaly was the master key to achieving both a café and a hideout with accessibility and security.

Click. First, I took a picture of the undersea tunnel entrance with the spirit camera.

-Welcome back. It’s already the 57th time?

Though it had been a while since I last took a photo, Inunaki Tunnel continued to update the number of our meetings.

I didn't understand the mechanics, but it seemed a continuous relationship was being maintained.

Wouldn't it be possible to communicate as well?

“Can you understand my speech?”

Click. I asked the question aloud and took another picture.

-Welcome back. It’s already the 57th time?

Unfortunately, there was no change in the spirit photo.

I attempted communication again.

“Inunaki. If you understand me, leave a different mark at the tunnel entrance. I have an interesting proposal for you.”

Click.

-Welcome back. It’s already the 57th time?

“Hm.”

Ordinary communication was a failure.

No matter how much some anomalies seemed to use human language, they didn’t think like humans.

But who was I? A regressor who successfully bred dinosaurs in the void by crossbreeding horses in the 380th cycle.

“…Oppa, I’m genuinely curious. Why are you making giant dumplings?”

“Just wait and see. It’s all a meticulously designed process.”

That day, I embarked on finding a way to communicate with Inunaki Tunnel.

Day 1: Given that it seemed to have an abnormal preference for decapitated heads, judging by how it killed magical girls, I prepared meat-filled dumplings like Zhuge Liang did in the southern lands and offered them in front of the tunnel.

(No reaction.)

Day 3: Thinking it might have a secret hobby of tearing apart human bodies, I prepared human-shaped dolls and placed them deep inside the tunnel.

(I found them thrown outside the entrance the next day. Response confirmed.)

Day 5: Suspecting that it had a preference for magical girls, I collected pre-apocalypse magical girl figurines and displayed them in the middle of the tunnel.

(They were torn apart and ejected from the entrance. Communication success.)

“Look! It’s responding! Ha-yul! Anomalies have their own ways of communicating, and humans can discover them!”

“…No, it just seems angry.”

Day 10: Since the ‘magical girl figurine strategy’ worked, I brought in numerous posters of old magical girl series. The Magical Girl Association cooperated actively. I plastered the tunnel walls with posters.

(The graffiti came alive and tore the posters apart as soon as they were put up. Real-time communication success. The Saintess urged me to stop.)

Day 17: With the help of the National Road Management Corps, I continued plastering the tunnel with posters using death row inmates. Additionally, I recorded magical girl anime OSTs and played them through radios at the entrance, midpoint, and exit of the tunnel.

(The graffiti throughout the tunnel wriggled. Noh Do-hwa was displeased.)

Day 25: Alongside the previous efforts, I requested help from the Baekhwa guild leader Cheon Yo-hwa and released the hundred ghosts into the tunnel.

(Flooding was confirmed throughout the undersea tunnel. The graffiti not only wriggled but also moved fiercely as if screaming. Cheon Yo-hwa was displeased.)

Day 30: Finally, a change was observed in the inscriptions on the stone wall at the tunnel entrance.

-Don’t come (来るな).

-Go away (帰れ).

I was thrilled by this great progress.

Of course, it was hard to say that the anomaly understood the semantic meaning of the language, but it seemed to remember the human reactions to certain words.

The most common and frequent sounds heard in the void were ‘Help me!’ and ‘Save me!’ for the same reason. They had learned these words were effective in luring humans.

Click. In the spirit photo, alongside ‘Don’t come’ and ‘Go away,’ countless other words were realized.

‘Bad guy,’ ‘Noise pollution,’ ‘Why,’ ‘Die,’ ‘Nuisance,’ ‘Incomprehensible,’ ‘Curse,’ ‘Stop,’ ‘Annoying,’ and ‘Hate,’ among others.

What a dazzling discovery!

It was worth the contemptuous looks from many people to pursue communication with Inunaki Tunnel.

Couldn’t we further develop this method of communication?

Inunaki Tunnel was a Japanese-born anomaly. Japanese, like Korean, had a culture of honorifics.

In Eastern Asia, it was a virtue to remember the character for respect (禮) even in personal friendships.

Day 60: The number of posters on the tunnel walls was increased by fifteen times, and the anime song playback was extended to 24 hours.

The Magical Girl Association expressed reluctance, saying they had no more posters to export, but I did not underestimate Japan’s potential. Since the depletion of silver from the Iwami mine, Japan’s main export product was otaku culture.

Using not only death row inmates but also ordinary prisoners, I plastered the tunnel. No matter how much Inunaki tried to tear the posters, it was futile. The humans plastered posters faster.

The undersea tunnel connecting Korea and Japan had become a comic market in terms of interior design.

(Lee Ha-yul, Noh Do-hwa, the Saintess, and Cheon Yo-hwa visited me together, requesting I halt the operation.)

Day 70: The radios playing anime songs placed throughout the tunnel were destroyed. I requested cooperation from the Magical Girl Association again and held a magical girl concert in the middle of the tunnel. The live music echoed grandly underwater, a level above recorded sound quality.

(Manyo Neko and Phantom Blade were displeased.)

Day 77:

The inscriptions at the entrance changed.

-Please don’t come (来ないでください).

-Please go back (帰ってください).

-I’ll do anything (何でもするから).

-Please (お願いします).

I shivered with excitement.

Finally, even the anomaly had engraved the concept of respect. I was now certain that this was a worthy companion for serious interaction.

“Ha-yul, you’ve waited long. I finally succeeded in persuading Inunaki Tunnel. Now, we can create a hideout with perfect security.”

“Sorry, can it wait until tomorrow? I have a dinner appointment with Noh Do-hwa unnie tonight. Drinking.”

“Of course. Have a great time!”

“…….”

Next cycle.

A neat sign hung at the entrance of Inunaki Tunnel, replacing the messy graffiti.

[Café Hideout]

[New Opening Soon!]

Footnotes:

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