What is a life written down as text?

With a single line, someone’s entire year can pass. With a single paragraph, someone’s whole life can be summarized.

When I thought about the lives of the characters, sometimes I felt that kind of wistful sorrow.

Had I copied this person’s life closely enough? Couldn’t I have told more of the story? Was this scene really the ‘highlight’ of this life?

Then where does the rest of his life go, the part that couldn’t become the highlight?

“It’s getting old.”

Maybe even this very moment was one of those “rest” pieces that vanished like that.

“You’re babbling about pointless things.”

Three months after saving the 40th regression’s Yoo Joonghyuk from the Blood Cult group.

I was thrown into the Hollow together with Yoo Joonghyuk.

If I had to roughly explain what the Hollow was, it would be this.

[You have entered the Hidden Scenario — ‘Earth Hollow’!]

The idea that beneath the Earth’s mantle, there was another world.

The cliff we fell off just happened to be one of the entrances that led into that Hollow.

The Hollow was a place where at minimum grade-5 monster species—monsters that, outside, could easily reign as the apex of an entire species—were gathered.

“Just hang on a little longer. Just count ten minutes in your head.”

“If you keep talking like that, it’ll notice us.”

We were holding our breath and waiting until the grade-2 monster species, the ‘Red-Blood Dragon,’ hid itself from sight.

It was ridiculous that the place we fell into happened to be the Red-Blood Dragon’s nest, but in another sense, it felt like a stroke of luck.

A little later, the Red-Blood Dragon left to hunt, and we checked its nest.

“Found it.”

The Red-Blood Dragon’s lava pool.

In it, I could see several fish swimming, cutting through the magma.

The Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp.

One of the finest spirit creatures you could count on one hand even in <Martial World Zero>. A spirit creature with an inner core that transcendents, and even fable-grade constellations from gigantic nebulas, coveted.

I immediately caught a ‘Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp’ and carefully slit its belly open. The cooking method for the ‘Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp’ was written in detail in the 81st regression of ‘Extinction.’

Yoo Joonghyuk, who had been watching me work, tossed out a comment.

“That’s not how you do it.”

“No, this is right. Even the way you use magic power is exact.”

“If you prepare it like that, you’ll lose half of the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp’s inner core.”

“Instead, it’s easier to consume. The patient should shut up and stay still.”

The reason I was doing cooking I wasn’t even good at was all because of that damned 40th regression’s Yoo Joonghyuk.

We had barely survived the fall off the edge of the cliff, but because he’d been suffering from an extremely vicious formless poison, Yoo Joonghyuk’s internal energy hadn’t returned.

“If you hadn’t stuffed your face with my Blood Spirit Pill, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Yes, yes. It’s all my fault.”

A little later, the sloppy Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp dish was finished.

Yoo Joonghyuk flipped the fish over with his finger like he was rummaging through garbage, then left a short review.

“It’s trash.”

“What? You haven’t even tried it.”

“I don’t need to try it.”

“Then you should’ve cooked it yourself.”

“You need internal energy to cook a Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp. And right now, I can’t use magic power.”

Yoo Joonghyuk swallowed the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp while making every kind of displeased face.

Still, it was moving. In order to eat that, Yoo Joonghyuk was overcoming his fable that said he ‘couldn’t eat something made by someone else.’

That aside, at this point I could see why the 40th regression’s Yoo Joonghyuk and Cheon Inho had grown so strong.

They’d been stuffing themselves with things like this every time, so of course they’d end up with incarnation bodies that could even trample the stars.

Thinking that made me feel a little uneasy.

The reason the 40th regression’s Yoo Joonghyuk and Cheon Inho had become that strong… what if it was because of me?

What if I, through this ‘horror,’ had intervened in the 40th regression and changed history? I didn’t know if a situation like that even made sense, but…

A little later, Yoo Joonghyuk, chewing the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp with a crunch-crunch, muttered,

“My internal energy’s come back a little.”

It was the moment the last three months of effort finally bore fruit.

The Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp was the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp, sure, but the number of spirit creatures I’d beaten to death over that time to restore this bastard’s internal energy had to be dozens.

I wanted to shout in triumph right then, but I forced myself not to show it.

「Maybe now we can escape the horror.」

If I showed it for no reason, the ‘horror’ might detain me again.

This horror wasn’t the kind with a clearly revealed beginning and end.

But if a horror was also a ‘fable,’ then it definitely had a beginning and an end.

If my writer’s instincts were right, the end of this horror would be “until the 40th regression’s Yoo Joonghyuk’s internal energy returns.”

Because that was a completion that suited an episode.

“That’s good.”

I said it with a mix of relief and regret. If even a little of his magic power had come back, Yoo Joonghyuk could repeat circulation and meditation and regain his old skill. More precisely, he could absorb all the elixirs he’d stuffed down and obtain an incarnation body far stronger than before.

If that happened, escaping this Hollow wouldn’t be a problem.

“I’m in your debt.”

I was a little flustered at Yoo Joonghyuk’s unexpected words.

So this bastard could say something like that.

“Then pay it back.”

“All right.”

“Huh?”

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned.

“Tell me what you need.”

A debt from Yoo Joonghyuk. That was precious.

I thought for a moment, then said this.

“I don’t need anything right now. Pay it back in the 41st regression.”

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at me like it was absurd.

“I forgot for a moment that you know about regression. But I can’t keep that promise.”

“Why not?”

“Because you in the next regression won’t be you right now.”

“How do you know that?”

“When the regression changes, everyone except me returns to the past. The memories disappear, and history is forgotten. Only a few lines of fable remain.”

Only ‘a few lines of fable.’

“Why are you saying it like it’s some big tragic thing? That’s just how our lives are.”

“What?”

“Some things are forgotten, and only what gets remembered is remembered. It becomes a scene, a sentence, a fable. Even precious moments, even sad moments, in the end they all remain as nothing more than a few lines of story.”

Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to think about what I said, then replied.

“And why are you saying this?”

“It means don’t treat those few lines of story as trivial.”

Maybe you don’t need that many sentences to change a life.

One line, and then another.

That one line, written with great difficulty, changes someone’s life.

“How ridiculous. Hearing that from you, who won’t remember anything.”

“Yes, yes. My apologies.”

“Now tell me what you really want. If you keep spouting nonsense, I won’t pay the debt.”

“Even if it’s not the next regression, you can’t pay your debt to me.”

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned again.

“What sophistry are you trying to pull now?”

“It’s not sophistry. It’s the truth. Let’s say you pay your debt to me a month from now because you owe the current me. Are Cheon Inho right now and Cheon Inho a month from now the same person?”

“What—”

“Someone would say they’re the ‘same person.’ Because the ‘fable’ that recognizes the two as the ‘same person’ is spread everywhere in the world.”

“…….”

“Then let’s think about it like this. If, a month from now, I lose all the fables I have now—so I’m in a state where I’ve lost all my memories—are Cheon Inho right now and Cheon Inho a month from now the same person?”

“…….”

“He looks the same, and his personality’s similar. He loves spouting sophistry, and he grins with those half-lidded eyes like an annoying bastard. Can you say it’s the same person?”

Maybe Yoo Joonghyuk understood this contradiction better than anyone.

That he couldn’t pay this regression’s debt in the next regression.

That the companions who sacrificed themselves for him would never return.

Buried under that endless debt of memory, he would be crushed, again and again.

I looked at Yoo Joonghyuk for a moment, then continued.

“But you can still do it.”

“What?”

“You can still think the me in the next regression is the same person. This guy lost his memories, but he’s the Cheon Inho I know. Think that. And do to him what you’re doing to me right now.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Then you won’t be alone.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes wavered, stopping for a beat.

I kept ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) talking.

“I’m saying don’t go around acting like you’re so lonely, like you’re the only protagonist, like you’re carrying all the darkness of the universe. So what if people forget? Just shamelessly decide it yourself. That guy is the guy from the last regression. That guy forgot, but I remember. So I’ll take revenge. Haven’t you lived your whole life applying that standard perfectly to villains? I’m a villain too, though.”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t say anything for a while.

The Red-Blood Dragon’s pool bubbled and boiled, and then a few Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp jumped up and vanished again.

Suddenly, I wondered.

Does the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp know it lives inside lava? Since it was born in lava in the first place, it probably doesn’t even know that place is hot.

“Even if I help you in the 41st regression, it won’t benefit you right now.”

“How does it not benefit me? The me in the 41st regression is the one getting help.”

“What—”

“In my next life, I want to ride the regressor bus and live comfortably too.”

At that, Yoo Joonghyuk let out a snort, like he couldn’t believe it. Even if it was a sneer, it had been a long time since I’d seen Yoo Joonghyuk smile.

“You crazy bastard.”

“Like you’re any better.”

I heard the nest shake lightly. A sign the Red-Blood Dragon was coming back. It was time to leave.

At that moment, Yoo Joonghyuk said something unexpected.

“Cheon Inho.”

“Yes.”

“The 40th regression still has a long way to go.”

Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t looking at me, but I felt like he was seeing me more directly than ever.

“So?”

“I have no intention of giving up on this regression easily.”

The moment I heard that, I realized what he was trying to say.

“Help me in this regression.”

He was telling me to become his companion in the 40th regression. That prideful bastard was saying it himself.

But the moment I met his eyes as he turned back, I was seized by a strange feeling.

「What he’s looking at isn’t me.」

I was nothing more than an illusion this bizarre horror had made, and what Yoo Joonghyuk was seeing was only Cheon Inho’s shell, not Kim Dokja and not Lee Hakhyun.

The person he was asking to be his companion wasn’t me.

The moment I truly felt that, it was like something in my head tangled up.

“Yoo Joonghyuk.”

Since it had come to this, what if I told the 40th regression’s Yoo Joonghyuk important information?

Even if he failed in the 40th regression, in the 41st regression he could change history—what if I just spilled everything I knew?

“Yoo Joonghyuk, my real name is—”

The moment I tried to say the next words, the world was dyed in bright sparks. The Red-Blood Dragon, running toward us from far away, vanished, and the scenery of the Hollow vanished. Yoo Joonghyuk vanished, and I vanished.

In a world where everything remained as nothing more than a few lines of sentences, I shouted my name toward Yoo Joonghyuk.

[Chapter 1 of the ■■-grade horror, ‘Evil Sophist,’ has ended.]
[You contributed decisively to the completion of this horror.]

Whether Yoo Joonghyuk heard it or not, the ending of the 40th regression was also recorded as nothing more than a few lines of sentences.

[You can now read the ‘Forgotten Ending’ of the ■■-grade horror, ‘Evil Sophist’.]