The Tales of an Infinite Regressor

Chapter 235: The Performer II

3

Do you know the overwhelmingly good advantage of living as a regressor?

It\'s that you can "correct" your dark past in the next turn.

History is the victor’s record, and in the apocalypse, surviving itself is the victory.

Do you get it? If you see a regressor in this era, think of them as "survivors."

――Dormammu.

Now, the mistakes of the previous turn officially no longer exist.

The past, where I made a fool of myself in front of my favorite street singer, has been erased.

In this new turn, unlike before, I became a passionate fan of the singer Cecillia along with Aryeon.

“Guildmaster...! I can’t believe I’m fangirling with you! This feels like a dream!”

Every time there was a concert, I would spare no expense and always bought VIP seats, regardless of the concert’s content.

I ordered the most expensive items from the menu during the performances and bought out all the merchandise.

“I’m so happy! Meeting you at Busan Station was the luckiest moment of my life!”

“Because you can brag about it non-stop on SGnet?”

“Yes!”

Aryeon’s affection for me hit an unprecedented high.

In contrast, Tang Seorin, Korea\'s number one idol, grew noticeably colder towards me.

Tang Seorin\'s nickname was "The Diva," while Cecillia\'s stage name was "The Queen of Song." It was a situation where a fight was bound to happen.

Though my true loyalty had always been with The Diva, in this turn, Tang Seorin stopped singing for me when we were alone.

It pained me, but there was no other way. The sole purpose of all this effort was to correct my dark past related to Cecillia=Calypso.

"Ah, you’ve come again! Doctor Jang, and Miss Aryeon! Should I sign for both of you?"

“Yes, please.”

“I’m the one who’s always grateful!”

In this turn, Cecillia now recognized me as her fan without a doubt.

But that wasn’t all. Just as in the previous turns, I continued attending every one of Calypso\'s performances, no matter if she was wearing a mask, singing cover songs, or originals.

Whether masked or not, I, the Doctor Jang, always existed as Cecillia=Calypso’s fan.

Naturally, this had to be on her mind.

“W-wait a minute! Mr. Doctor Jang!”

That’s why, when Calypso chased after me one day after I had generously donated to a live performance at a soup restaurant, I wasn’t surprised at all.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Huff, it’s just… Huff. Wait…!”

“Please, take your time.”

Calypso was panting heavily, having run after me with her guitar strapped to her back.

When she finally raised her head, her expression was resolute, as if she had made a firm decision.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while! But I never had the chance. The truth is, I…”

“I already know.”

“What?”

“You’re Cecillia, aren’t you?”

“...!”

Calypso froze as if struck by lightning, her whole body trembling. Her blue eyes stared at me in disbelief.

This was the moment of the first strike.

I maintained a calm, relaxed smile, yet imbued it with deep meaning.

As a regressor who had honed his acting skills across countless turns, my facial expressions were already at a level where I could do method acting 24/7. I had mastered the art of influencing others’ thoughts with just a look.

I could not afford any mistakes now, having come back countless times for this moment.

“H-how did you…? Not even the manager knows, and I didn’t tell anyone…”

“A true fan can recognize the artist on any stage.”

“...!”

The second strike.

Artists are creatures who live with an ingrained romantic notion about their fans. They harbor the deep-rooted fantasy that somewhere, a fan on a white horse will come and fully understand their artistry.

Why else would the old Chinese idiom "知音" (zhiyin) exist? It reflects the deeply ingrained dream of every artist—to find a soulmate who truly understands their art.

To Cecillia=Calypso, who had spent her life proving herself only by covering other musicians\' songs, my words were like a drug.

And to top it off, the one fan who truly recognized her was the hero of the Ten Clans Extermination!

The dopamine surged through Cecillia=Calypso’s brain, already oxygen-deprived from running after me.

“B-but…”

She stammered in awkward Korean.

“I can’t sing at all as Calypso. My voice, tone, everything’s different... There’s no way you could recognize me…”

“Even if the voice heard on the surface is different, the soul inside the song doesn’t change. I’ve always found solace in the emotion Calypso puts into her songs.”

“Th-then why didn’t you acknowledge it earlier?”

“I’m just a fan. Just as Calypso continued to sing in that restaurant even when no one recognized her, I was content just listening, whether you knew it or not.”

“…!”

Third strike. Out.

On this day, both the unknown singer Calypso and the masked Queen of Song, Cecillia, were saved.

After we exchanged promises to meet again, we parted ways. On the way back, the Saintess called me through the celestial voice chat.

[I\'m impressed, Mr. Doctor Jang.]

[No one would’ve recognized Cecillia’s true identity since all anyone ever heard were the voices of the original artists she mimicked.]

[You truly have the insight of a regressor who’s lived for hundreds of years. I admire you.]

“You flatter me.”

[As someone who uses Clairvoyance to observe people constantly, I’ve become lazy when it comes to reading minds.]

[Seeing you, I think I need to take time to reflect and reconsider my habits.]

“I’m sure you’ll do excellently, Saintess. I’ll be rooting for you.”

Throughout this whole process, I felt no guilt.

Am I despicable? People would say, "That’s typical of Aryeon’s guild master." Like guild master, like guild members, right?

What nonsense.

Just as beauty only exists when recognized by someone, ugliness doesn’t exist if no one observes it.

Such was my "ugliness." How could I be condemned for something no one knew about?

‘Mission accomplished: Historical revisionism successful!’

However...

At that moment, I didn’t know yet.

That one day, in the distant future, a child named Oh Dokseo would appear, observe my entire life, and write a book to expose it to the world――.

4

Back to the story.

“I originally lived in Fukuoka, but everyone around me died... It was too painful. I didn’t have the courage to live there anymore, so I moved to Busan.”

“I see.”

“Yes. I already knew a bit of Korean, and I had heard rumors that Busan was still relatively intact...”

The story Cecillia=Calypso shared wasn’t all that unusual for the times.

People who had lost their families were everywhere.

That’s why people stuck together so closely. To replace the blood ties they had lost.

In fiction, there’s often a cliché that the apocalypse breaks old bonds and leads to every person for themselves.

While that did happen occasionally, reality was quite the opposite.

Survivors desperately united.

If there was no reason to unite, they even invented new terms like “Empty Bond” to justify sticking together.

“But it’s been a bit tough adjusting as an outsider... Haha.”

What made Cecillia=Calypso different was that she embraced her role as an outsider.

In short, her identity was unclear.

Did she have any connections in Korea? No.

All her connections in Japan were dead. She had acquaintances in her hometown, but she left them behind.

Her awakening ability sealed her fate.

The "Masked Queen of Song." A skill that only allowed her to mimic the voices of other singers perfectly.

It was the perfect ability for a drifter with no roots anywhere.

“I see. So, you passionately sang as ‘Calypso,’ hoping that someone would recognize your voice and form a true connection with you.”

“Ah... It’s embarrassing, but yes. That’s right.”

“Hmm.”

“One day, I hope to build enough skill and gather enough fans so that I can hold a concert as Calypso in the same venue where Cecillia performs! That would prove my true abilities!”

I rested my chin on my hand.

How should I advise her?

It would have been easy to say, "You’re making plenty of money anyway, so why not just be satisfied with that?"

But the singer before me wasn’t content with that, and therein lay the problem.

‘A place where someone recognizes you,’ ‘A place where you can truly be yourself.’

In pursuit of such an ideal, hadn\'t she worked as Cecilia by night, while performing live shows in various restaurants by day?

She was more dedicated to her dream than anyone else.

In a world where morals had collapsed, the fact that she threw herself into the pursuit of a \'genuine connection,\' a fantasy, wasn\'t something I disliked.

So, as a fan, what could I do for her?

"Do you really need to sing only at live performances?"

"Huh?"

"Right now, Calypso, you\'re neglecting Cecilia too much. You think of it like, \'I\'m just a recording machine singing other singers\' songs, that\'s not the real me,\' right?"

"..."

"I don\'t mind, but fans who love the singer Cecilia would be disappointed."

"...They’re probably all fans of the original singers whose songs I perform, aren’t they?"

"No. There are definitely fans of Cecilia, the great singer."

Like Sim Aryeon or KoreanVillage.

Though they were embarrassingly odd individuals to have as fans, a fan was still a fan.

"As I see it... You\'re worried that Cecilia\'s fame as the \'great singer\' is far greater than your actual singing ability, right?"

"..."

"You want to reveal your true self. You want to prove yourself with original songs. But you\'re scared that when your true identity is revealed, your current fans might be disappointed."

Calypso pressed her lips together tightly.

It wasn’t a rejection, but an agreement in her silence.

"This worry fundamentally stems from the fact that you don’t have a place of your own, Calypso. It might be easier to solve than you think."

"Are you saying I should buy a building and make it my own performance venue? I\'ve thought about that, but still..."

"No, that’s not it."

I brewed and placed a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Your talent has immense value. If you shift your perspective just a little, you could easily feel that singing other artists’ songs is also part of your identity."

"What? How...?"

Calypso looked up at me.

A smile spread across my face.

"Have you ever considered being a radio DJ?"

5

A music radio program.

If I had to pick the most famous program in the Korean Peninsula, it would definitely be Bae Chul-soo\'s Music Camp.

In such broadcasts, the songs a DJ chooses to play are part of the DJ\'s \'taste\' and \'skill as a host.\'

For example, with classical music broadcasts, even the same symphony can vary greatly depending on where, when, and which orchestra recorded it, as well as how the DJ provides commentary. The DJ’s standing could be defined by these factors.

With the rise of internet streaming, the golden age of radio had long passed into twilight.

But now, in this post-apocalyptic world, radio—combined with the internet—was seeing a strange revival.

"These days, it\'s hard to get functional broadcasting equipment. Even when we manage to get it running, it\'s often corrupted by strange phenomena at any moment."

Whether it was albums or records, they were often tainted by bizarre anomalies—so-called \'Satanic songs\' or \'music that drills holes in your brain.\'

"But you\'re different, Calypso. You can play countless \'records\' using only your voice."

"Ah..."

"Though you won’t be able to block out the strange phenomena completely, the music show you host will probably be the safest channel in the world."

Calypso murmured, "Me, hosting a music show..."

"Yes. If you only define yourself as a live singer, you’ll continue to be plagued by the fear that you’re merely a copy. But as a DJ who can always deliver \'the same voice as the original artist\'—"

"..."

"That would be an immense strength and a blessing as a DJ. Listeners will tune in and find happiness in your show."

"A DJ’s talent..."

"Exactly. And occasionally, you could sprinkle in your own original songs. People would love it. After all, no other show could ever replace yours."

Calypso stared blankly at the air for a while.

When the coffee had cooled, her lips finally opened.

"...I want to try it. Radio."

"You\'ve made a good decision."

"Yes. I won’t have to reveal my face... And reading listener stories sounds like it could be fun."

She really did have a knack for it.

I had already assisted in setting up a radio channel called "Ravenclaw Busan Branch." It was easy enough to provide the necessary broadcasting equipment.

After several tests, when Calypso had reached a level of hosting that satisfied her, this conversation happened:

"Savior."

Yes, by this point, Calypso had started calling me \'Savior.\'

I had asked her to use a cryptic nickname instead of calling me \'Doctor Jang\' during broadcasts. Using such a title might make me too famous. Even so, \'Savior\' was a bit awkward, but I figured it was due to her not being a native Korean speaker.

"It\'s time to decide on the show’s name. What do you think it should be?"

"Ah, you still haven’t decided?"

"Haha, no. I kept putting it off, thinking I’d decide tomorrow..."

This was surprising, considering how diligent she was.

"Hmm."

I tapped my notepad with a pencil. And then a show name suddenly popped into my mind, and I wrote it down.

"What about this?"

"Oh! You\'ve already thought of one? Let me see."

On the notepad, I had written:

[Nymphcalypse].

[PR/N: In Greek mythos, Calypso was a nymph who lived on the island of Ogygia, where, according to Homer\'s Odyssey, she detained Odysseus for romantic purposes for seven years against his will.]

Calypso tilted her head.

"Nymphcalypse? What does that mean?"

"It’s a hidden reference to both Cecilia and Calypso."

As you know, Cecilia used to perform in high-class restaurants. In Korean, such a place is called a \'yojeong,\' which can also mean \'nymph\' (a play on words here).

Yojeong = Nymph.

Calypso = Calypse.

I combined them with slight twists to form the name.

It subtly hints at the post-apocalyptic setting but avoids being too dark by adding the cute prefix, \'nymph.\'

With her love for hiding her identity, Calypso jumped up the moment I explained.

"Oh my gosh! I like it! No, I love it! Daisuki!"

And so, a new music show, Nymphcalypse, was born in the age of the apocalypse.

6

There’s an epilogue to this.

To attract listeners to Nymphcalypse, we didn’t need any grand marketing.

All it took was posting a message on the SG-Net forum saying, \'We’ve started a new music show; tune in if you’re bored,\' and that was enough.

-Anonymous: I tuned to the frequency as the post said, but what is this??

-Anonymous: The sound quality is insane;;

└[Three Thousand]MeteorisIceMagic: What’s up?

└Anonymous: I tuned into that radio channel that was promoted earlier, and the sound quality is no joke. The DJ’s voice is really nice too.

└[Three Thousand]MeteorisIceMagic: Isn’t it some kind of anomaly?

└Anonymous: Maybe, but for now it seems safe. You should give it a listen.

Just having the 12 anonymous accounts controlled by Sim Aryeon was enough to create buzz artificially.

If the DJ had lacked talent, the buzz would have died quickly, but like most passionate young people, Calypso had the grit to seize opportunities.

-[Three Thousand]MeteorisIceMagic: ? This is actually good?

About a year later, Nymphcalypse, which aired every evening at 7 PM, had become a must-listen channel not only for awakened beings but also for regular people.

-Hello, and welcome to another wonderful evening with Nymphcalypse. The first song I’ll play today is...

-If you\'d like to send in a story, please ask your patron Constellation. They’ll forward it to me...

-Hello, and welcome to Nymphcalypse. The weather has gotten much colder lately, hasn’t it?

Even as the world continued to fall apart, Nymphcalypse never missed a 7 PM broadcast.

Awakened beings drafted to the frontlines to fight sea-monster-sized anomalies, as well as regular people quietly supporting them from behind, tuned into the radio, listening to others\' songs and stories.

"Hmm."

Of course, I, Doctor Jang, did the same.

There was this one time.

Without telling Calypso, I rented the entire venue where the \'great singer Cecilia\' had once performed. It cost a fortune, but it didn’t matter.

I set up a single wooden chair in the center of the stage where Cecilia once held the mic.

And on that chair, I placed a lone radio.

A Zenith K731, a vintage radio with a wooden finish.

-Hello, and welcome to another wonderful evening with Nymphcalypse.

An empty audience.

The radio standing alone on stage.

I sat at a table, two rows from the stage, and waited in silence.

A quiet\' live performance\' began in the place that was once packed with fans.

-The requested song today is...

A brief pause.

-...It’s from a singer named Calypso. Apparently, she was once a wandering, nameless singer who traveled from restaurant to restaurant in Busan, singing...

-Haha.

-...Some of you might know her.

-Since it’s a request, I’ll sing it.

The sound of someone rustling around.

Then, the soft strumming of a classical guitar.

-Calypso. "Ruins."

Soon, a song began to play.

I took a sip of the coffee I had prepared in advance.

And now, while listening to the song of someone who is often praised as a renowned DJ both in SGnet and reality, I nodded along.

As expected, this singer\'s voice is the best.

- Performer. End.