The Tales of an Infinite Regressor - Chapter 228

[Translator – Jjescus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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Chapter 228

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The Four Seasons II

4

“From being an ordinary level-7 civil servant at a rehabilitation hospital to the [Ruler of Busan], [Chief of the Highway Management Corps], [De facto ruler of the peninsula], and [Mayor of New York]?! ~For some reason, the person who seems to be the savior of the world keeps obsessing over me, but what is this?!~”

While Noh Doha is busy enjoying this light-novel-style life, let’s leave him aside for a moment and get down to the serious defense game.

“Welcome, everyone. Let’s get straight to the point. When the blizzard hits from the north, it’s expected that the winter will continue at -120 degrees Celsius for quite some time.”

I gathered about 30 members of the Highway Management Corps and tapped the blackboard.

A map of Sinuiju was displayed on the board.

“We don’t know how long this winter will last. It could end in a day, or it could go on for an entire year. In the worst case, we’ll be completely isolated, with no external communication except through SG-Net, and we’ll have to endure a harsh time.”

“…”

“For this operation, the Highway Management Corps has specially selected elites with a high amount of aura. You can think of each of you as a human heater. We’ll take turns warming the accommodation, so treat the fuel carefully.”

Faint laughter came from among the members of the Highway Management Corps.

The environment was certainly harsh, but no one complained. If enduring the cold was all they had to do, it wasn’t considered an especially difficult task.

The problem was that achieving the condition of “simply enduring -120 degrees Celsius” was itself a challenge, even for Awakened individuals.

“We’ll start the operation tomorrow, but before that, I’ll take a few questions.”

Several members of the Highway Management Corps raised their hands.

“You there, Member Haseong.”

“Yes. I understand we have enough food supplies for about three months. What do we do if the winter in Sinuiju lasts beyond that?”

“I’ll temporarily leave Sinuiju and bring back the Sword Maiden. I’ve already secured land for a greenhouse farm. While the crops grow, we’ll form a hunting team to gather food. Next, Member Cha Jaehee.”

“Thank you. If the anomaly ‘General Winter’ expands beyond Sinuiju or moves, how will we respond?”

“If we determine that it has a core or main body, I’ll personally intercept it. Next.”

The briefing continued.

The members of the Highway Management Corps only asked questions directly related to the operation, then lowered their hands. The 30 people here were subtly my outer disciples, so it made sense.

(Most of them had been taught indirectly through the Constellations, so they weren’t fully aware of it themselves.)

“That’s all for today. Return to your accommodations and rest. The operation starts tomorrow.”

“Yes!”

The very next day.

Though only a night had passed, the temperature had noticeably dropped. If yesterday had been early winter, by dawn today, the air felt sharply cold.

Indeed, with such bitter cold clearly noticeable in July, even Noh Doha had to give up his hopeful thoughts.

“Damn it. That weather forecaster or whatever… They always get the predictions wrong, but of course, they’re spot-on now…”

“Ah, it’s actually 100% accurate, even though it’s said to be only 50%.”

“Huh? How come…?”

“Think about it simply. Predictions like ‘it will rain tomorrow’ or ‘it will snow tomorrow’ are things anyone can guess without needing a [Weather Bureau]. They’re normal predictions. But predicting something like ‘a -120-degree blizzard might happen tomorrow’—that’s a prediction that is inherently ‘strange,’ isn’t it?”

“Oh…?”

“If such an unlikely scenario is even mentioned, it means the [Weather Bureau] has already perfectly predicted the weather. They may never get normal weather right, but they always nail predictions that deviate from normal.”

“Hmm. I see…”

Noh Doha made a face of realization as he sipped his warm coffee.

At 8 a.m., people began gathering at the operations headquarters (set up inside the Statue of Liberty). Everyone was dressed in thick winter gear.

Yoo Jiwon, the celebrity from Busan famous for always dressing the best, looked my way. She was wearing a white uniform with a fur cape.

“Your Excellency, preparations are complete.”

I nodded.

“Send out the prisoners.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alright then.

The sharp-eyed readers might have noticed the gap in the narrative: we brought 50 people up to Sinuiju, but only 30 were members of the Highway Management Corps.

The remaining 20 were prisoners brought from places like Busan.

Our useful prisoners, who had played a key role when we attacked the Inunaki Tunnel, would be put to work again today.

“All prisoners, attention to the words of His Excellency.”

Yoo Jiwon addressed the 20 prisoners.

“Ah, shit…”

“What’s with this nonsense first thing in the morning…”

The prisoners, who had been transported across the Korean Peninsula over two weeks, were in a foul mood. They glared at Yoo Jiwon as if they couldn’t care less.

In less than 10 seconds, blood splattered.

Without blinking an eye, Yoo Jiwon slit the throat of one prisoner with her dagger.

She shook off the blood from the dagger and, in the same tone and expression as before, spoke again.

“All prisoners, attention to the words of His Excellency.”

Now down to 19, the prisoners’ eyes lit up like model citizens’.

…Sometimes, I wondered if Yoo Jiwon was only loyal to me because she could kill legally.

In the suddenly icy atmosphere, I opened my mouth to speak.

“From now on, you’ll be assigned numbers from 1 to 19. When your number is called, step outside one by one.”

I tapped the map, pointing to a path with my pointer.

“It’s not a difficult task. Just cross the Yalu River Bridge and keep walking north.”

“North…”

“Yes. As you walk, you’ll receive signals through the radio. Just respond appropriately to the words coming from the radio and keep walking. That’s all.”

“…”

“Let me make one thing clear: escape is not recommended. You know what Yoo Jiwon’s tracking ability is, right? If you try to flee, you’ll be hunted down to the ends of the earth and suffer a fate worse than hell.”

Next to me, Yoo Jiwon twirled her dagger. The prisoners’ faces turned pale.

Their eyes held a certain question, one that could be translated as: Why are we being treated as worthless criminals, while that silver-haired psycho is enjoying such a high position?

Since it was something I had been wondering myself for a long time, I quickly added:

“Don’t worry. There’s more than just punishment. See that river to the north? That’s the Aiha River. It’s less than 30 kilometers from the Yalu River Bridge.”

“…”

“If you manage to reach there and return successfully, your sentences will be reduced by 250 years. Of course, depending on your behavior at the Highway Management Corps’ rehabilitation facilities, your sentence could be further reduced.”

“…!”

Only then did the prisoners, exhausted and hopeless, perk up.

These prisoners were all serving sentences of over 500 years.

For those who had already experienced the mind-destroying effects of the [Button that skips 1 year with a single press], the offer of 250 years off was an irresistible bait.

They had been decent Awakened before committing their crimes, and for them, completing a 30-kilometer round trip was a good deal.

“Is that really true? Will you really reduce our sentences…?”

“I swear on Yoo Jiwon’s name.”

The prisoners’ gazes turned cold again.

I cleared my throat.

“…I promise in the name of Warden Noh Doha.”

“Wooooh!”

“Alright! It’s less than 60 kilometers altogether! We can do it!”

The prisoners were as fired up as exam retakers after watching a motivational video (featuring foreigners with subtitles) on YouTube three times in a row.

Thus, from prisoner number 1 to prisoner number 19, each was sent out at intervals of 50 meters.

[Translator – Jjescus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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By the way, the prisoners were provided with walkie-talkies and U.S. military uniforms. The kind always worn by those enduring hardship in apocalyptic movies.

“Saintess. Please.”

“Yes.”

In one corner of the operation room.

The saintess sat in a remote corner, away from the crew. Bundled up in a fur hat, fur coat, sleeping bag, and blankets, she clasped her hands together.

To describe what the saintess was doing right now:

[Recon soldier 1. Recon soldier 1.]

[Continue straight ahead. There’s a report that our troops are stranded 6 kilometers ahead, with communication cut off.]

[Check their status and, if possible, return with them.]

The saintess was using telepathy, disguising it as if communication were happening through the walkie-talkie.

The content of the telepathy made no sense to the prisoners. Our troops? Stranded? Return with them? None of this had been conveyed beforehand.

– What the hell is this nonsense?

[Recon soldier 1. Do you hear me? Continue to report what you see ahead.]

– Uh, well, I don’t see much, really. There’s a flimsy-looking bridge, though. Is that the Yalu River Bridge?

[That’s correct. Though partially destroyed, previous recon confirmed it can be crossed by people. Proceed with caution.]

– Sigh. Got it.

Meanwhile.

I kept taking out “artifacts” one by one, laying them down at the saintess’s feet.

A small model of the Statue of Liberty. A model of the Eiffel Tower. St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican. Big Ben in London. The Taj Mahal. Tokyo Tower…

It was like a shaman laying out cursed totems, or kids chanting over a Ouija board.

Carefully, I placed these landmarks of human civilization on the “world map” laid out at the saintess’s feet.

“……”

Noh Doha, sitting in a nearby armchair, silently watched me. He, too, was wrapped in layers of winter gear.

– Huh?

[What is it, recon soldier 1? Is there a problem?]

– No, I crossed the bridge safely, but there’s a bit of snow now. Kinda strange.

This world map had been meticulously hand-drawn by Yoo Jiwon. Though its accuracy was lacking, it carried the weight of Yoo Jiwon’s power.

I had placed all the famous landmarks of the world on the map.

Then lightly, tap—

I knocked over the Eiffel Tower.

[The phenomenon was expected. We suspect that a glacial void is expanding in that area.]

– Damn, is that why it’s so cold?

[The longer you remain in the void, the greater the risk. Retrieve the troops and return immediately.]

– Yeah, yeah. Got it. This is getting creepy.

I knocked over St. Peter’s Basilica.

– Huh?

I knocked over Big Ben.

– Huh, huh? What the hell? Damn it.

[What is it, recon soldier 1?]

– Suddenly, there’s a snowstorm! Huh, huh! I can barely see ahead! Wow, crap, why’s the snow like this all of a sudden?

[The radar shows your position is fine. Keep moving forward.]

– I’m moving! But I can hardly see!

I knocked over the Taj Mahal.

– Damn it, chi҉zz҉zzz҉҉, I really can’t see a thing! It’s freezing! Ch҉҉zz҉҉, it’s so cold I might die! I’m serious, this is bad, ch҉҉zz҉zz҉.

Then static cut through the walkie-talkie.

The saintess looked down at me. I, too, read the meaning in her gaze and nodded.

‘It’s here.’

The walkie-talkies we’d handed the prisoners were mere props. We had been communicating through the saintess’s telepathy.

Naturally, static had no logical reason to interfere with the communication.

In other words, the source of the interference wasn’t the saintess, but something else.

– I can’t, ch҉zz҉zz҉҉, see ahead at all, ch҉zz҉zz҉zz҉҉zz҉.

Silence.

Communication with prisoner 1 was cut off.

The saintess, unfazed and without a change in expression, continued her work calmly.

[Recon soldier 2. Communication with recon soldier 1 is incomplete. Do you see him 50 meters ahead?]

– Huh? Chi҉҉z҉҉, oh, no. The snowstorm’s too intense, I can barely see anything ahead, ch҉zz҉zz҉zz҉҉҉zz҉҉zz҉҉.

Prisoner 2, lost.

Prisoner 3, lost.

Prisoner 4, lost.

The chess pieces on Yoo Jiwon’s [mini-map] toppled one by one. The black pawns (♟) advancing north at 50-meter intervals fell like dominos.

Tap.

When I knocked over the Tokyo Tower.

The last landmark of human civilization still standing on the world map was the Statue of Liberty.

At that exact moment, the saintess spoke.

“Prisoner 19, lost.”

“……”

“It’s here.”

No one voiced the foolish question, “Where?”

Cr-cr-crackle— The sound came from the world map. The paper map, which previously only held chess pieces, was suddenly covered in frost, freezing over.

The ice unmistakably aimed for the “Statue of Liberty,” charging toward it.

“Doctor Jang.”

“Yes.”

Without hesitation, I picked up the Statue of Liberty and placed it in Sinuiju with a tap.

Immediately, the frost that had been encircling the world map swirled toward Sinuiju, devouring the tribute we’d laid out.

Chomp, chomp, chomp.

– Ch҉zz҉҉z҉z҉zz҉zz҉zz҉zz҉zz҉.

The walkie-talkie, which should have remained silent, burst with intense static.

The thermometer, specially prepared for this mission, showed temperatures plummeting exponentially.

-10°C, -20°C, -40°C, -80°C.

“Highway Chief! Release the aura!”

“Yes!”

-120°C.

At that moment, boom! A tremor rang out. The door, which had been firmly locked after the prisoners left, groaned repeatedly.

A snowstorm beyond scratched at the door like the claws of a giant. A warning. Demanding we open this ridiculous door.

Everyone knew it.

Winter is here.

[Translator – Jjescus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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