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

Chapter 237

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The Transplanter II

“Hmm. So, you’re saying organs are being transplanted automatically? If used well, this seems quite useful...”

That was Do-hwa’s initial response after hearing the report on Village Bus No. 44.

As expected of the woman who kept Korea’s top psychopath directly under her command. Even after learning that people’s organs were being extracted, she reacted as if it were no big deal. What a messed-up world we lived in.

“You were the one who threw a death row convict onto that bus, weren’t you?”

She retaliated by hitting me with facts.

In a previous cycle, I had secretly tested Do-hwa’s MBTI. She came out as ISTJ. No wonder it was always difficult to deal with people like her.

For anyone curious, Yu Ji-won was an ESTJ. If you think those two share an uncanny likeness, you’re not wrong.

“But I still don’t get it,” Do-hwa said begrudgingly. “What does a bus have to do with organ extraction? How does an Anomaly like this even exist?”

Ah. On that point, I, as a regressor and expert in Anomalous studies, had a theory.

“There was a vehicle used during World War II called a Gaswagen. It was essentially a mobile gas execution chamber. Jews were killed by carbon monoxide emitted from the engine. Once the bus reached its destination, all the passengers were dead.”

“Fuck... Something like that actually existed?”

“Yes. Truly inhuman. The Nazi regime was just that brutal.”

(Side note: Old Man Scho’s ancestors were die-hard supporters of the Socialist Party, so he came from a long line of communists.)

“The Gaswagen was eventually discontinued because the process of cleaning the vehicles was too demanding.”

“But what does this have to do with organ extraction? It’s not like they harvested organs from bodies that died from gas poisoning...”

“Well, let me tell you about the Execution Bus.”

Execution Bus.

It was a real vehicle used in China. Instead of constructing fixed execution chambers, they simply modified a bus for the purpose. Unlike the primitive methods of World War II, executions here were carried out using lethal injections. Since the bodies were in better condition after death, the organs remained intact and suitable for harvesting and distribution.

“Fuck... That’s real too?”

“Yes.”

Do-hwa’s face darkened, as if thinking that maybe humanity deserves to disappear after all.

I quickly changed the subject. “Also, buses frequently appear in urban legends. You’ve probably heard stories where people wake up to find themselves in a battle royale on a deserted island with explosive collars around their necks. Seen any movies like that?”

“I think I’ve heard of one...”

“Put all those images together, and you have the Anomaly that is Village Bus No. 44.”

To test the theory, we conducted an experiment.

“Okay. Prisoner No. 37, take this book and walk toward the bus.”

“What book is it...?”

“Just a regular piece of classic literature. Don’t worry about it.”

The book in question was a German bestseller titled The Communist Manifesto. I had imported it directly in its original German version, not a translation.

“Now, take the book and start shouting when you’re near the bus. Got it?”

“Sure? Uh... So, if I do this, my death sentence will be commuted to life imprisonment, right?”

“Of course! You’re talking to the Undertaker here. Best friends with the head of the National Road Management Corps and the mentor of the operations team leader. My word is law! If you want, you can turn back and get your throat cut instead.”

“No! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

The death row inmate hesitantly approached Village Bus No. 44 and shouted, “W-workers of the world, unite—!”

He never finished his sentence.

The bus, which had been calmly parked up until that moment, suddenly accelerated and shot forward at a clean 300 kilometers per hour.

Screeeeech—! BOOOOM!

Before the prisoner could react, he was obliterated, his body smashed into a pulp.

Among the remains, his right arm, still holding The Communist Manifesto, flew through the air and landed perfectly between Do-hwa and me. It was a hole-in-one.

The experiment was a success.

“As I suspected, it’s influenced by the Nazi Gaswagen. After all, the Nazis hated communists just as much as they hated Jews.”

“But... you said China’s execution bus was part of it. Wouldn’t that contradict the hatred for communists?”

“Well, who knows? Don’t expect Anomalies to have logical consistency. Or maybe it’s so meticulous that it distinguishes between the Soviet Union and China.”

“Damn it...”

We moved on to the next experiment.

“Uh... Guild Leader.” Ah-ryeon glanced around nervously, clearly anxious. “If we get caught doing this, we’re in serious trouble...”

We were inside the Mo Gwang-seo Christ Cathedral, one of the most sacred sites in Pyongyang. Essentially, it was the heart of the Eastern Holy Nation. Much like the Emperor’s Golden Throne in Warhammer 40K, the Eastern Holy Nation also had its own divine seat.

Next to us sat Mo Gwang-seo, the living god, Christ reborn, firmly rooted on his throne.

“If we get caught messing with Mo Gwang-seo, no matter how much power I hold as the Saintess of the North, I’ll be executed for treason!”

“Aren’t you supposed to trust your guild leader?”

“N-no! I don’t trust you!”

“......”

“......”

“Fine. I’ll arrange a one-on-one fan meeting with Nymphocalypse’s DJ.”

“I’ve always trusted you, Guild Leader! Even in my previous life, for a million years! Let’s get this done!”

With that, we kidnapped Mo Gwang-seo.

I had already parked Village Bus No. 44 in an underground garage somewhere in Pyongyang. To prevent any noise from leaking out, we had completely sealed off the surrounding area.

“Wow, Guild Leader. When did you set up such a hideout?”

“Long before the founding of the Eastern Holy Nation. Pyongyang has always had underground bunkers like this.”

“Whoooa! You’ve got to teach me more about this! Recently, I’ve been dealing with a lot of nonbelievers. It’d be so convenient if I could just bury them in a place like this! Oh, but, Guild Leader...”

“What now?”

“I think Mo Gwang-seo has been mumbling something at you for a while now. Doesn’t it sound like he’s trying to speak?”

“It’s just your imagination. He’s an Anomaly in a catatonic state, and without Hayul, he can’t speak human languages.”

“Oh... I see! I was mistaken, ehehe.”

“Now, on the count of three, open the bus doors. One, two, three... Heave!”

Together, we tossed Mo Gwang-seo into the Village Bus No. 44.

Flash!

There came a bright light.

Village Bus No. 44 splattered Mo Gwang-seo’s body across the windows, staining them a vivid red. However, even the blood-soaked glass couldn’t dim the holy glow of Mo Gwang-seo’s divine aura.

“Oooh.”

“Aaah! My eyes! My eyes...!”

Ah-ryeon flailed around, shouting, “Glasses! Glasses!” like a character in a retro anime.

But Mo Gwang-seo’s holiness didn’t end there.

Flash! Flash! Flash!

Every three seconds, a burst of light emanated from inside the bus. Each time, blood splattered, painting the windows like a canvas of red ink.

The Village Bus No. 44 was repeatedly killing Mo Gwang-seo, and each time, he was resurrecting instantly. It was a fierce battle between two Anomalies.

While their struggle might have been entertaining to watch, I had a more pressing matter to address.

“Saintess. How’s it looking?”

[...It seems the healing is happening as expected.]

We were monitoring whether patients with incurable diseases were being cured. The Saintess had dispatched several Awakeners to observe the condition of various patients across the region.

[The blind patients are recovering the fastest. One, two, three... The process is accelerating.]

Even though Korea’s healthcare system was generally poor, its high-end capacity was world-class thanks to Do-hwa, who could make prosthetics, and Ah-ryeon, who absorbed negative energy. The only issue was that Do-hwa took too long to craft each prosthetic due to her workload. Even with a 72-hour day, it still wouldn’t be enough time for her. And Ah-ryeon couldn’t absorb all negativity without risk. She had a limit, beyond which she’d transform into a corrupted being, a Fallen One. While I had avoided causing her to fall in any past cycles, the potential danger still loomed.

‘If we can confirm that Village Bus No. 44 and Mo Gwang-seo can heal patients with incurable diseases without any side effects...’

If this could be proven, it would revolutionize Korea's medical system. In fact, I would even consider abandoning the concept of the Eastern Holy Nation entirely. It would be far more efficient to place Mo Gwang-seo in the bus rather than on the golden throne.

[The patients are continuing to recover... Wait.]

[Hold on, Mr. Undertaker... Something's wrong.]

Of course, that ideal future was not meant to be.

“What happened?”

[Some of the patients... specifically six of them, are showing strange symptoms.]

[They have halos above their heads.]

Halos. Like the rings that typically depict angels.

[And not just halos... six of the patients are sprouting wings.]

[The six patients are starting to move. Undertaker, stop the Village Bus No. 44 immediately!]

I drew my sword Do-hwa and slashed through the air. My Aura swept over the Village Bus No. 44, turning it into a heap of twisted metal. The Anomaly was instantly destroyed.

The ground was left cratered, as if a bunker-busting missile had detonated, and one, final flash of light indicated Mo Gwang-seo’s subsequent resurrection.

[The patients... The winged individuals are flying at an incredible speed.]

[Direction: Pyongyang.]

[They're flying at 300 kilometers per hour... no, 500... and accelerating. They're already nearing Pyongyang airspace.]

[Mr. Undertaker, their destination is likely...]

Here.

“Ah-ryeon,” I called.

“Y-yes?”

“Come here.”

“O-okay...”

Ah-ryeon hesitated for a second but quickly ran over to me. I wrapped her in my Aura, forming a protective barrier around us both.

Booooom!

At that exact moment, the ceiling split open. Dust and debris fell onto the barrier, scattering harmlessly away. I swung Do-hwa to clear the dust cloud, revealing what had caused the damage.

Hovering in the sky above us was an Anomaly.

“Aaaah, aaaah.”

An angel.

Earlier, the Saintess had described the phenomenon as patients growing wings. While that description wasn’t wrong, it didn’t fully capture what we were seeing now.

The Anomaly before us was made entirely of wings. In the center of this massive cluster of wings was a gigantic, writhing eyeball, surrounded by countless smaller eyes, and each of them was framed by wings that flapped in continuous beats.

The creature resembled the biblical description of an angel.

“Aaaah, aaaah.”

The sound echoed as the wings fluttered, and from between the wings, thousands of laser beams shot towards us.

“Hm.”

A tremendous roar filled the air.

Even though the underground bunker had been designed to withstand high-intensity attacks, the force of the lasers gouged out an even deeper crater. It was as if a mountain peak had been obliterated by a meteor shower.

‘If there are six of these things, each with this kind of power, their attacks would be as deadly as a meteor strike.’

After confirming that I had survived the barrage, the "angel" flapped its wings again, preparing for another round of attacks. There was no cooldown—it could fire the lasers repeatedly without rest.

I swung Do-hwa again.

A single, clam slash of dark energy cut diagonally through the sky, intercepting the incoming lasers and continuing toward the angel.

In complete silence, the slash sliced through dozens of the angel's wings, cutting them off cleanly. Unlike the chaos caused by the angel’s attacks, my strike made no sound at all.

With that one quiet move, the angel was bisected.

“Aaaah, aaaaah.”

The feathers from its wings floated to the ground, one by one, like a gentle rain of magnolia petals in late spring. When the last of the white feathers fell, the angel dissolved without leaving a trace behind. Only scattered feathers remained, drifting through the silent air.

During the entire battle, Ah-ryeon hadn’t said a word. She stood there, staring up at me with wide eyes.

I smiled gently and patted her on the head. Only then did she relax, her face breaking into a relieved grin.

“Sorry about that,” I consoled. “Things got a little out of hand.”

“I-it's okay! We can just clean it all up!”

“Seems like Pyongyang is cursed...”

“Are you sure you don't want to use Village Bus No. 44 again?”

“I’m sure. Never using that thing again.”

“Ehehe...”

Even after that, five more angels attacked in succession.

While defeating them was simple enough, the aftermath was messy.

Every citizen in Pyongyang had witnessed the bizarre creatures with wings descending from the sky. But thankfully, Ah-ryeon was able to calm the citizens down. Her presence was regarded as divine by the people of the Eastern Holy Nation, and they treated her like their savior.

After I returned Mo Gwang-seo to the Golden Throne, I made contact with the command tower in Yongsan.

“Saintess. Do the six patients who turned into angels have anything in common?”

[Yes. As you probably suspected, all six had suffered fatal injuries from the Void and were on the brink of death.]

“I see.” I sighed, then said, “It seems that once too many organs are replaced by Mo Gwang-seo’s body, the patient turns into an Anomaly.”

[That’s my theory as well. While one or two transplanted organs appear to be harmless, a certain threshold results in a complete transformation into a Mo Gwang-seo clone, or rather, an angel.]

The bus was a vehicle, after all, and its purpose had been to transport something or someone from one place to another.

In the case of Village Bus No. 44, it had been transporting organs—the passengers were the internal organs themselves.

In other words, the true name of this Anomaly was the Organ Transfer Bus.

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