The Tales of an Infinite Regressor

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 71 – The Plot I

1

By the way, the group known as the “Library Society” has been mentioned several times up to now, but I haven’t really had a chance to explain it properly to you all.

Why did this suddenly come to mind? It’s because during the 562nd turn, Oh Dokseo asked me a question.

“Mister, mister. How do you join the Library Society?”

“Hmm? Why the Library Society?”

“Why, you ask? Because it’s cool.”

Oh Dokseo sometimes got fixated on random things like this.

You could tell just by looking at her—wearing a cap that looked like something a rapper might wear, a jumper, jeans that seemed like they might melt off at any moment (complete with three holes), and fake bubble gum being chewed in her mouth—Oh Dokseo had a severe case of “eighth-grade syndrome.”

Oh Dokseo, who proudly declared herself a literary girl, exhibited the common symptoms of this syndrome. She had an almost bizarrely ecstatic reaction to words like “library,” “society,” and “librarian,” as if she were afflicted by some mental, perverse disease.

According to a paper from the Korean Psychiatric Association, this disease, unfortunately, is incurable, and the only treatment is for the patient to actually major in library science at a university. How frightening is that?

“You’re a regressor who’s been through hundreds of turns, so you must know the core members of the Library Society, right? Am I right?”

“Um…”

I made a delicate expression.

“Well, I do know them, but…”

“Then introduce me! No, before that, tell me what the Library Society is like. They post weird stuff on SGNet, but aside from that, it’s a secret organization shrouded in mystery.”

“…Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah? What’s with the sudden reluctance? Tell me everything you can.”

“You’ll probably regret it… But fine.”

If you really want to know, I have to tell you.

-Static, today’s music for you is Mozart…

Next to our table, a vintage wooden radio was playing music.

I took a sip of my café au lait, injecting engine fuel into my bright red tongue.

And then I opened my mouth toward the small prophet in front of me.

2

The Library Society.

Also known as The Great Library.

No one knows exactly when it was founded, but it’s a very old organization, and a secret one at that.

Naturally, its existence is thoroughly hidden from the public. Even if the organization’s name accidentally got out, people would likely dismiss it with, “Huh? Sounds like a group that could really exist,” and move on without a second thought. It’s not like the Freemasons or the Illuminati, who claim to be secret but are actually just attention-seeking posers.

“Wow… A secret organization.”

Oh Dokseo’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

It seemed that even someone as perpetually cynical and indifferent as Oh Dokseo had a sense of romance in her.

Thinking to myself that this could be trouble, I continued my explanation.

The exact location of the Society’s headquarters is unknown. However, there are rumors that it is somewhere in North America.

The Society’s branches are spread all over the world. The Korean branch’s hideout is somewhere in Cheorwon.

“Cheorwon? Why Cheorwon?”

“Specifically, it’s in Geunnam-myeon, Cheorwon. There are few residents around there. Like any good secret society, they try to avoid attracting attention.”

“Oh…”

The “Library Society” was aware of the existence of anomalies long before the Gate incident occurred, perhaps even hundreds or thousands of years ago.

They collected information on anomalies, wrote strategies and manuals, and secretly trained “librarians.”

Librarians are specialists in fighting anomalies. They are experts who have sworn to dedicate their lives to exterminating or collecting anomalies, even if it means abandoning humanity and morality.

Librarians strictly follow a hierarchical system.

The hierarchy is known to consist of [Knight] [Baron] [Viscount] [Count] [Marquis] [Duke].

Among them, there is only one Duke. Known as the Library Duke, or the “Black Book Hall,” nothing is known about this individual. It’s uncertain whether they’re even human.

“Wait. So how do you refer to librarians along with their rank? Like [Baron-level Librarian]?”

“Well, more or less. From the Count level, they also get specific titles. For example, a Count specializing in forbidden books would be called ‘Count of the Forbidden Book Tower.'”

“That’s so cool…”

“Additionally, the suffix of the title changes with each rank. For a Baron, it’s ‘Gate,’ for a Viscount, it’s ‘House,’ for a Count, it’s ‘Tower,’ and for a Marquis, it’s ‘Pavilion.’ For example, the Marquis in charge of the Forbidden Books Department is called ‘Marquis of the Sky Sea Pavilion.'”

“That’s incredibly cool…”

Oh Dokseo’s eyes grew more and more dreamy.

According to some, in the deepest depths of the Great Library headquarters, there lies a kind of prophecy book called the “Black Book.”

The Black Book contains prophecies about future calamities that will befall humanity and the anomalies that will bring about the end of the world, written in very strange languages and characters.

To prevent the eventual day of apocalypse, to preserve humanity, and to continue history, the librarians of the Library Society are working secretly somewhere even now.

“――And all of this is a lie.”

Blink.

Oh Dokseo blinked while holding the espresso I had made.

“Huh?”

Hmm. A pretty good reaction.

I smiled gently.

“Child. The Library Society doesn’t exist. Sure, you might find groups with similar names if you look hard enough, but there’s no organization that’s been fighting anomalies from the shadows for thousands of years.”

“Huh? Huh? Why? Why not…?”

“Because.”

I slowly stood up.

“I, Doctor Jang, am the master of the Great Library, the founder of the Library Society, the one and only Duke, the Duke of the Black Book Hall.”

“…”

Why are you surprised?

I gave a wry smile, like an experienced inn thief, at the eighth-grader syndrome bubble gum girl who was gaping like a fish.

Do you think I created only one fake organization in over a thousand years?

Playing the mastermind is always new and thrilling. I was an SSS-grade regressor ready to claim, “Ah, I planned that,” “That was me,” “That too was me,” no matter what incident occurred.

But even a regressor can’t create something from nothing. That was already proven by the demon Parmenides in 500 BC.

Even I had sources of inspiration—or rather, “forced stimulation”—when I established the Library Society.

In other words, there’s an original.

The trigger came from a certain radio broadcast that presumably originated from the USA in the 46th turn.

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

3

Since the collapse of civilization, humanity’s cultural level, which had been thriving in the video era, reverted to the radio era.

And from early in my regressions, I was very familiar with handling radios. I even had experience setting up a broadcast station to support Idol Tang Surin’s activities.

If I may brag for a moment… Legendary radio channels like “Nymphcalypse” and “Ravenclaw Busan Branch,” which have countless loyal listeners not only on the Korean Peninsula but also across the sea in the Japanese archipelago, could hardly have started without my help, the Doctor Jang.

This isn’t just boasting; it’s an objective fact. The channel hosts often mentioned it casually.

– Ah, are you talking about our benefactor? Wow. Our channel’s creation and maintenance owe a lot to our benefactor’s help! I didn’t even know how to run a channel five years ago!

– Benefactor? Hmm. I’ve mentioned it a few times on the broadcast already, but we’re really grateful. Sometimes we need rare materials or tools to keep the channel going, and when we ask our benefactor, they miraculously find them for us.

The “benefactor” they referred to was all me. I contributed significantly to maintaining the cultural level of East Asia after the apocalypse.

I even planned an annual event where famous radio channels come together for a 24-hour non-stop relay broadcast on Christmas—called the “Radio Festival.”

So, always be grateful to me, cultural citizens of East Asia.

For this reason, one wall of my hideout was always adorned with radios.

The lineup was impressive. From Korea’s first vacuum tube radio, the Geumseong A-501, to Sony’s CF-580 and CF-3800, Germany’s Grundig Party-Boy 210, and China’s TECSUN PL-680, among others.

Among them was a radio called the Zenith K731.

You don’t need to know exactly what it is. Just know it’s an antique made in the 1950s, a vintage product crafted from maple wood.

You know how older folks have those wooden wardrobes in their homes? This wooden radio had a similarly smooth texture.

-Crackle, this is… C-P Foundation. Current situation is… crackle.

One winter morning, that very antique radio subtly whispered something in English.

“Hmm?”

At the time, I was having my usual morning cup of café au lait, savoring a moment of romance. Still half-asleep, I stared blankly at the radio.

‘Did I leave the radio on last night?’

And here’s where it becomes clear why I’m not suited to be a horror movie protagonist. Because I have perfect recall and would never casually brush things off with, ‘Oh, it’s just my imagination,’ or ‘Hmm, my memory’s a bit fuzzy.’

‘…I didn’t leave it on.’

My eyes snapped wide open. I immediately turned up the volume. The characteristic static of the radio grew louder.

-Crackle, Sector 7 has fallen. Repeat, Sector 7 has fallen. We used nukes as per protocol, but they had no effect.

Nukes?

Trying to reduce the static and listen more closely, I realized the speaker was probably an old man. He was an American speaking typical Californian English.

-Oh, the evil dragon… The evil dragon has been released. It’s all over now. Crackle. Can you see? Beyond the mushroom cloud, the huge shadow of the evil dragon is looming. It’s over. The Foundation is finished. The world is finished too.

I fiddled with the frequency. But with each adjustment, all I got was more static; the old man’s voice kept crackling.

The conclusion was clear.

“…This thing has become an anomaly.”

I clicked my tongue.

Contamination.

Since the world started going to hell, electronic devices getting taken over by anomalies had become common. I called this phenomenon “contamination” or “infection.”

Particularly dangerous were devices like CCTV, phones (the older, the riskier), computers, GPS navigators, radars, and televisions. They were highly likely to go haywire.

In fact, the most lethal blow to human civilization wasn’t the physical threats like the Ten Clans, but these “contamination” phenomena.

Early on, when world leaders tried to counter anomalies with nukes, they ended up merging with the all-powerful mushroom clouds, wondering, “Huh? Why are the missiles coming back at us?”

Radios weren’t exempt from contamination either.

Though I had put rigorous cleansing measures on the radios I collected, thinking they were relatively safe…

—

–This is Sector 7. I am Martin Russell, the Chief Director of Sector 7. As soon as I confirmed the failure of the final barrier protocol in Sector 7, I moved to Bunker 24 and am currently attempting to communicate with the outside.

“Hmm.”

–From the bunker, we can monitor the interior and exterior of the sector via CCTV, but many cameras are broken. I don’t think the remaining ones will last long either. If a rescue team is organized, please deploy them quickly so we can coordinate from the inside. Currently, there are six survivors visible on CCTV, including myself. I am alone in Bunker 24, and the remaining five are scattered.

–According to radar, the entities that escaped containment are not dispersing worldwide but are instead converging in the North American region. Why? What could be causing this?

The radio broadcast was quite unusual.

Typically, a radio corrupted by an anomaly would just mimic ghostly sounds or launch some nonsensical psychic attack.

–For those affiliated with the Foundation, you should already be aware… Sector 7 is located on Molokai Island, Hawaii.

–In the unlikely event that a civilian hears this transmission, ignore it completely. Flee as far from North America as possible. Or just enjoy a last meal with your family.

However, this particular anomaly, if it was indeed part of a “Foundation” as it claimed, was remarkably adept at mimicking a human.

It really sounded like a human was broadcasting from the other side of the radio.

Like someone was genuinely imprisoned somewhere, desperately and urgently sending out a transmission.

So, during my 46th regression, I couldn’t help but feel both intrigued and puzzled.

–The entities are indiscriminately destroying the Foundation’s sectors. Chhhh. Oh, God! May humanity be granted mercy…

If this were true.

If the old man really was in Bunker 24, and if a “Foundation” actually existed, and if the entities that escaped containment were real.

What on earth was happening in North America right now?

[Translator – Jjsecus]

[Proofreader – Gun]

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM