Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut! Chapter 53
Chapter 53. “Do You Want to Go Back?” (3)
The memory cut off there.
The child’s face had been a silhouette from start to finish, but Hajin didn’t need a name to guess whose it was.
“…That’s it?”
So it really was the Chosen Returner’s memory—the moment his regressions began.
Right. Regression stories always had a reason.
If he thought back to every regression novel he’d ever read, the protagonists usually did one of four things:
take revenge on their enemy,
take revenge on someone else’s enemy,
repent for the way they’d lived,
or swear to rise after spending a lifetime as a pushover.
So the question he’d thrown at the system wasn’t multiple choice.
It was an essay.
A sweet “chance” that appears at the absolute worst moment.
He didn’t need to see what came next to know the shape of it.
<You’ll fail even if you go back. That’s your future.>
<Don’t you want to live inside your happiest memories?>
A life inside happy memories. A life where, the moment hardship approaches, you can abandon the present and retreat into yesterday—without guilt.
Thinking of it that way, the random, patternless spinning of his own carousel finally made sense.
The memory had ended, but Hajin didn’t return to the practice room.
Instead, he stood in a bright, transparent space—the complete opposite of the void he’d seen hours earlier.
A familiar blue window blinked into existence.
<System Notice: To facilitate smooth communication with the Fixed Returner (Kang Hajin), the memory playback has been ended early. We have borrowed Kang Hajin’s subconscious. Time is limited!>
So—ask fast. No time to waste going W-what is happening?
“Was that the Chosen Returner’s memory?”
<System Notice: Correct.>
“I’ve been wondering—why not just tell me who he is?”
Why bother with quests at all? Why not just hand over a name and address?
The system seemed… uncomfortable. It even popped up a sweat-drop.
<System Notice: The ‘Chosen Returner’ has crossed countless timelines in an attempt to escape ‘fate.’>
<System Notice: Due to severe timeline entanglement, the original timeline and records of the Chosen Returner have been lost!>
“In normal words.”
<System Notice: We don’t know who he is either!! ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚>
“You deliver devastating news with way too much enthusiasm.”
Was this thing helping at all?
“What even are you? You and that red thing.”
<System Notice: …Simply put, we are Time Administrators.>
The transparent space filled with threads of light in different colors. Some arced downward like dying shooting stars. Others wriggled into existence, braided together, and vanished.
Countless timelines blooming and fading.
<System Notice: Flashbacks, life panoramas, déjà vu, premonitions—we handle them all.>
<System Notice: We manage all timelines that are born, ensuring they walk their proper paths.>
Blue light flickered—untangling, reconnecting, sometimes severing lines entirely.
It was… unsettling to watch.
<System Notice: The ‘thing’ you encountered earlier was once a Time Administrator like us. We are investigating why he created a ‘Chosen Returner.’>
“Then what about me? How did I get dragged into this insane time war?”
The aurora-like space folded away. Two threads appeared—one yellow, one purple—knotted together messily in the middle.
<System Notice: For unknown reasons, the Chosen Returner’s timeline began intertwining with yours.>
<System Notice: Each time he regressed, your timeline regressed as well!>
<System Notice: Our original plan was to find the Chosen Returner, stop the regressions, restore the timeline—and then erase your memories.>
He didn’t need the rest.
“But you couldn’t find him. And you couldn’t fix the timeline.”
The first voice he’d ever heard echoed again, clear as day.
<Can you stop him?>
– I can do anything except re-enlist.
<Haha. Interesting.>
<Then I’ll make a bet.>
<I’ll give you a chance. To fix everything.>
So that was it.
You failed, so you outsourced it to me?
“So all that ‘access denied’ stuff before—?”
<System Notice: The information shown through the ‘system interface’ is official time-record data. Naturally inaccessible to ordinary humans—>
Silence.
<System Notice: There are vast, overwhelming truths humans cannot comprehend! Access restrictions are for your protection—!>
<System Notice: But within the bounds of causality and succession, we will try our best—!>
“….”
<System Notice: We promise to do better for smoother quest progression!!!!>
“Yeah. Thanks. Try being more specific next time.”
<System Notice: …ㅗ. (I will devote my whole being! (〜^∇^)〜)>
“Don’t switch speech bubbles on me.”
The window flickered.
<System Notice: Once you leave this subconscious space, human-world rules will restrict communication again.>
<System Notice: If needed, we will contact you again through your subconscious.>
<System Notice: The space is closing. Any final questions?>
His consciousness was already drifting—like he was sinking into warm water.
“One thing.”
“How am I supposed to find someone even you can’t identify? And if I do… how will I know it’s him?”
A phone ringtone echoed faintly, like a sound from far away.
<System Notice: You’ll recognize him.>
<System Notice: It’s not easy for human timelines to intertwine.>
<…That is what we are told to relay.>
“By who?”
And Hajin woke up.
Back in Reality
He pushed himself up from the practice room floor.
His body was stiff—like he’d actually slept.
His phone kept ringing.
Seo Taehyun.
Three missed calls.
He answered.
“Hyung, I’m not touring the country to hunt you down.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t run off because you lost to Han Seongwoo, did you?”
“Am I you?”
“Then answer your phone. They’re calling you for interviews.”
The call ended.
The system?
“Under maintenance.”
Of course.
The Hallway — Han Seongwoo
On the way back, Hajin ran straight into Han Seongwoo coming out of the interview room.
“Hyung, done?”
“Yeah. I talked about you a lot. You’re in trouble.”
Hajin smiled.
“I’ll talk about you a lot too.”
And casually—too casually—he slung an arm around Seongwoo’s shoulders.
Seongwoo stiffened.
Hajin tightened his grip just a little.
“Hyung used to be B-class leader, right? You took care of me when I first came in.”
Translation: I know what you’ve been doing.
“You must’ve felt comfortable when I arrived. Less of an age gap. Must’ve been tiring, lining up kids and bossing them around.”
Translation: Having fun playing drill sergeant at twenty-two?
“And I’m probably the only one in B-class who talks to you casually.”
Not something they’d agreed on. Not something Seongwoo could deny on camera without looking petty.
Seongwoo’s face twitched.
Hajin leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper only Seongwoo could hear.
“Parachute.”
Seongwoo went rigid.
Hajin’s smile stayed bright.
“You’re a real parachute, aren’t you?”
A nepo placement. Someone dropped in.
He tilted his head, polite as sugar.
“Can I say that on camera?”
Translation:
You bomb-planting bastard. I’m about to light the fuse properly.