WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator/Editor: Ryuu
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ I'm an Infinite Regressor, But I've Got Stories to Tell
Chapter 17
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Internationalist ⅠⅠⅠ
The heart is often likened to fire, burning with passion. But in my case, 'water' was more often a suitable metaphor. Ever since the 89th cycle was severed by the red flash caused by Go Yuri, my inner well had dried up. This is commonly referred to as burnout— a slump inevitably faced at some point by a regressor.
"Annihilation, huh..."
"If Samcheon is gone, doesn't that leave only Baekwha as the top guild in Korea?"
"No, those body stackers are a bit... It's even questionable whether they are a guild."
"After all, the void suppression failed. I looked up at the night sky yesterday, and it was chilling."
Upon collecting and cremating Dang Seo-rin's remains and scattering them at the beach, I returned to find Awakeners whispering under the parasols outside the convenience store. For some reason, their murmuring sounded to me like the tickling noise of water.
The noise of water focused on one object.
[This coffee shop has great coffee. Samcheon, Dang Seo-rin]
A wine-colored thousand-won bill.
I transferred the bill signed by the Samcheon guild leader into an acrylic case and displayed it at the convenience store counter, usually where cigarettes are showcased. Lately, our underground warehouse had started showing the bottom of its supplies. Alcohol and cigarettes were the first resources to become scarce, so there was plenty of space to display the bill.
Naturally, customers could view the exhibit each time they passed the counter.
One day, the Mount Hwa old man pointed out,
"Store owner, what in the world is that ominous item? I can feel an unusual energy from it."
"Ah, that? It’s a signature left by the Samcheon guild leader before she went off to strike down a meteor shower."
"Hmm..."
The old man grunted and left the convenience store.
The next day, he, as usual, placed a ten-thousand-won bill on the counter while buying a bottle of green makgeolli.
"Store owner, this is an orchid drawn by myself."
"Orchid? What about an orchid?"
"Look closely at the drawing."
I did.
Beyond King Sejong's sturdy shoulders, an actual orchid was depicted.
"...?"
Frankly, the drawing was terrible. If Heungseon Daewongun had seen it, he might have mistaken it for pineapple leaves.
However, the old man had put some effort into it, as a tiny signature that read ‘SwordDuke of Yuldoguk’ was squeezed into a corner of a cabbage leaf. SwordDuke seemed quite proud of his work, puffing his nose. Among his features, only his fluttering mustache looked commendable.
"Please, hang it in your store like a screen."
"......"
Well, it didn't really matter.
I thoughtlessly displayed SwordDuke's bill as well.
That apparently set a precedent.
Visitors to my convenience store began indiscriminately offering their signed bills.
"Excuse me, sir. I'm heading out with the raid team, if it's not too much trouble, could you..."
"I'll come again next time! Please give a 2+1 discount then!"
"Really, really, can't I buy a carton of cigarettes? Please!"
When there was only the relic of the Samcheon guild leader, it had been handled with care, but with the addition of SwordDuke's bill, it suddenly seemed trivial.
The currencies left by Awakeners varied widely.
Old five-thousand-won bills, two-dollar bills, East German marks (these were the most fascinating), yen, euros, pounds, Greek, Hong Kong dollars, Vietnamese dong, Philippine pesos, North Korean won, Indian and Nepalese rupees...
Before I knew it, the area behind my counter was filled with bills.
Occasionally, when I had time, I would quietly observe the exhibition.
Every time a bill filled the gaping holes in the cigarette display like bricks, I felt as if my inner well was slightly replenishing.
If life is ultimately a journey to leave behind a single photograph, perhaps my 90th portrait would look like this.
"Comrade Manager..."
"Hm?"
Fairy number 264 set down a box of Zero Drinks. Under the Saemaul hat, his expression was utterly deflated.
"This is the last box of Zero Drinks. Huff..."
"Is that so. What about the alcohol?"
"Beer, soju, whiskey, wine, makgeolli, sake... No matter the type, scraping everything together, there are only 50 bottles left. I'm ashamed to say that the funding for alcohol has dried up..."
Not just alcohol, nearly all stocked items were exhausted.
There's no such thing as an eternally flowing oasis.
But what of it? Have you ever seen someone who refuses to cast shade because they fear the tree might rot someday?
"Here."
I took out a Heaven's Champion sausage.
Perk up! At the sight of the sausage, Fairy number 264's ears stood up.
For some reason, unknown to me, fairies swoon over this particular sausage.
"Ah! I thought all the sausages were gone!"
"Eat it secretly from the others."
"You're the only one who thinks of me...!"
I patted fairy number 264 on the head.
"Call everyone together and let's clear out all the remaining alcohol."
"Yes! Comrade!"
I gathered the customers.
I could have easily invited Awakeners through an internet community, but unfortunately, that was no longer possible.
[Unable to connect to the site.]
Seo Gyu's 'Hunter Community' had been shut down some time ago.
Seo Gyu had likely died somewhere unknown to me.
Go Yuri probably died as well. After all, she was a being who couldn't survive without mimicking others.
Fairies had walked door to door gathering people, and still, only about a hundred participants turned up for the party. Not quite satisfying, but enough people to enjoy the 50 bottles of alcohol.
'Isn't the Saintess coming?'
Awakeners laughed, chatted, sang, and enjoyed themselves.
They also had their own stashes of supplies, so the party wasn't meager. Surprisingly, an Awakener who brought 11 bottles of Château d'Yquem from 1990 became an instant hero in human history.
The atmosphere reached a climax.
"Shall we form a guild with everyone gathered here!"
"Oh!"
"The Last Guild! To commemorate its formation, let's set off for the meteor shower gate after tonight's party!"
"This isn't a guild, it’s a final gathering..."
The Awakeners who had survived without dying or being kicked out of their guilds were either stubborn independents or outcasts with social issues.
But as the final moments approached, they united for the party. Well, the influence of 11 bottles of Château d'Yquem might have played a significant role.
"Manager! Aren't you coming with us!"
I shook my head.
"There's still one customer I haven't said goodbye to. After you all leave, I'll go too."
"Ah, if only you were there, we could last another 30 seconds."
"Maybe even three minutes?"
"Come on, let's sign up quickly!"
People chuckled.
The night sky was especially noisy with a high ceiling.
From long years of living through regressions, I now truly sensed that the apocalypse had arrived.
The day after the Last Supper, I called all the fairy clerks to one place.
Forty little ones wearing Che Guevara T-shirts crowded together. I declared in front of them,
"Today is a holiday."
"Huff."
The fairies blinked.
"Does a holiday mean no work?"
"Work reflects human value, but a holiday is an act of abandoning one's value. It's an utterly foreign concept."
"Excuse me for saying, but doesn't it depend on whether it’s a paid or unpaid holiday?"
I chuckled and handed each fairy a fifty-thousand-won bill.
"Don't worry. It's a paid holiday."
The bills all bore my signature.
[Secretary-General and Chairman and Manager of the Sixth International.]
The fairies' eyes sparkled.
"Wow! Comrade Manager's handwritten signature!"
"Deeply moved!"
"This should be legislated to hang in frames in every public office!"
"Sure, do as you like. Anyway, I'll be watching the store alone today, so take a good rest and come back."
"Yes!"
The fairies, raising their red flags, scurried off somewhere. And so, I was left alone.
As I was mopping the floor in the now-quiet store,
Tinkle, the glass door opened.
"Welcome. Customer."
"......"
It was the Saintess.
She was the last customer I had been waiting for.
She quietly looked around the store. Several shelves were empty as if teeth had been plucked out. Signs reading [Temporarily out of stock - please wait for restocking] were attached to those shelves.
The Saintess murmured,
"Restocking is taking a long time."
"Yes. I've been pressing the headquarters continuously, but it seems difficult."
"...I see."
The Saintess did not argue with my words and simply nodded.
The apocalypse had surged right up to us.
Yet, the Saintess had not died. Not just this cycle. She had almost 'always' survived until the last day.
Her attachment to life was a bit different.
She had imposed a duty on herself to live.
"Could you make me a cup of coffee?"
"Understood."
I took the last remaining coffee beans, milk, and sugar and made a coffee as close to filter coffee as possible.
This was how we at the Sixth International treated our regular customers.
Naturally, I could afford such a service to our very first regular customer.
"......"
"......"
During the coffee, the Saintess said nothing. She just looked with her deep black eyes at the counter behind me, the shelves inside the store, and outside the window.
Especially, her gaze lingered long on the cases of bills.
"That was well drunk. Here, the bill."
The Saintess offered a fifty-thousand-won bill.
"No need for change. I'll come again."
On the back of the bill was written [Your first customer.]
That day was the last time an Awakener visited the convenience store.
In the middle of the night, I locked up the store and went out to the Han River.
The night sky was filled with the Milky Way. Red light. Green light. Purple light. The Milky Way seemed like a long-ripped lip, and within it, countless stars twinkled as if they would pour down at any moment.
And they actually did pour down.
The gate that Samcheon and the guild coalition had tried to seal at the cost of their lives had now completely opened, releasing a disaster made of starlight onto the earth.
A guaranteed event in Gyeongsangnam-do in the 7th year of regression, and in Seoul in the 12th year.
It was known as the Meteor Stream.
"This cycle ends with the Meteor Ending."
I sat on the riverbank, looking up at the sky.
One could survive if they avoided it, but there was nothing left to do in this cycle if one did.
There were countless things to do in the next cycle.
'Not a bad vacation.'
I opened my smartphone.
While waiting for the stars to fall, I flipped through the photos saved on my phone.
Originally, I wasn't in the habit of taking pictures. More precisely, as a regressor, I had lost that habit.
Although photos were items meant for preservation, they had failed to serve that role for me.
However, knowing they would disappear, I couldn't help but take these photos.
[This coffee shop has great coffee. Samcheon, Dang Seo-rin]
[SwordDuke of Yuldoguk.]
[Thanks for the fun. Lee Ju-ho.]
[Sincerely grateful. But no matter how I think about it, the store's name and clerk shirts are strange. Are you a member of the Red Army? Posted by Uehara Shino.]
[Visiting on a school trip! Baekwha Girls' High♡ May our love last a thousand miles forever - by 天寥化.]
[The way here is too inconvenient. Thought I'd die carrying wine bottles. - NDH]
[Go Sixth International, fight on! - Sim Ah-ryeon]
[If you had just sold one carton of cigarettes, it would have been GOAT... Y]
……
[Your first customer.]
Unknowingly, the corners of my mouth lifted.
Why I had accepted the life of a regressor, who I wanted to help, why I wanted to help,
the reasons now filled my heart more distinctly than ever before.
Twelve years had been enough to supply the water necessary for a regressor's life.
Of course, maybe in a hundred years, I'll have to take another vacation.
'Hold on. Isn't the Meteor Ending a bit old-fashioned?'
The whole world was flooded with starlight.
The time of regression.
Today, I retired as the 12-year convenience store manager and rejoined as a regressor.
Footnotes:
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