Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut! Chapter 67
Chapter 67. System Update (2)
[System Notice: Your entry keyword has been set.]
[System Notice: Entry keyword: (I hate mint chocolate.)]
[System Notice: The entry keyword may be changed later. However, due to security concerns, the procedure will be complicated. Please be aware.]
“Alright. I’ll try it for now.”
If it’s annoying, I’ll change it later. Simple.
There was no point arguing over something like an entry phrase. I had bigger things to deal with.
“Okay. Let’s move quickly. Explain update items 1, 3, and 4. All at once. Keep it simple.”
[System Notice: What do you mean ‘simple’ when it’s complicated?]
“Just do it. When you outsource work, the client sets the brief properly at the start. Didn’t you know that?”
Complete nonsense, obviously.
A client who gives a kind, thorough brief is about as real as a beautiful-but-cheap elegant ugly thing.
In other words: it doesn’t exist.
[System Notice: …This is extremely difficult, but I will try. Even if we argue, I’ll lose anyway!]
“Wow. Your emotional expression is getting very detailed.”
[System Notice: That is also part of the authority update!]
[System Notice: In the Space of the Unconscious, I can communicate more freely! ]
“Great. Use that freedom to explain.”
I leaned back on the sofa and tipped my chin.
The system window vanished with a sharp pa-bak sound. Then—
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
The lights in the space shut off one by one.
“Why are you making this creepy?”
POP.
A spotlight snapped on.
A massive monitor hung in front of me like a presentation screen.
On it was a PowerPoint-style title slide:
<Fixed Regressor System Update (1.0)
REAL_FINAL_this_is_the_real_real_final_end_true_last22222>
“…I’m getting flashbacks. I can’t look at this.”
[System Notice: Endure it.]
The slide advanced.
How the System Has Worked So Far
[System Notice: To understand this update, you must first understand how the system has operated.]
[System Notice: Under normal circumstances, Hajin-nim should not be able to interfere with a human timeline at all.]
“I know. Unlike the chosen regressor, I just… happened to remember my regressions.”
[System Notice: Correct. However, locating the chosen regressor has been delayed.]
[System Notice: The Time Management Department determined we required assistance from a human within the timeline.]
“And that human was me.”
[System Notice: I believe you already know why.]
The memory surfaced on its own.
The early days. Endless regression. The moment I first met this system.
—Please. I can’t live like this anymore.
“There wasn’t anyone more serious about stopping regressions than me.”
[System Notice: Exactly. Preventing regression is far more difficult than most humans realize.]
“Well, rewinding time is absurd.”
During my first regression, I’d even thought it was a blessing.
But eventually it became torture.
I understood why I’d been chosen. Still—
I was just a regular person.
And if someone like me had to find the chosen regressor…
“…That’s why you gave me quests.”
[System Notice: A workaround.]
“Then how are quest conditions and rewards decided? You said you don’t even know who the chosen regressor is.”
[System Notice: The chosen regressor generates unique time-energy.]
[System Notice: We track fluctuations in that energy within the timeline.]
[System Notice: Quests are formed around events and individuals connected to that energy.]
I nodded slowly.
“So there are two types of quests. Ones that force me to resolve something linked to the chosen regressor. And ones where you share information or clues.”
[System Notice: Correct.]
“Then what was the ‘cat’s gratitude’ quest?”
Silence.
Suspicious silence.
“You’ll lose less if you confess now.”
[System Notice: That quest was meant to add vitality to your daily life. Also, good-deed anecdotes are useful for idol image-building before debut…]
“Your real reason.”
[System Notice: I wanted you to struggle a little! Run around! Suffer! Work hard!]
“…I appreciate the honesty.”
Annoying.
But useful information.
Next time I needed leverage, I’d pretend I was emotionally wounded.
“Alright. Now explain the ‘system update.’”
Temporary Authority Granted
[System Notice: Simple. You have been granted Time Administrator Grade Zero (0).]
[System Notice: Temporary designation.]
[System Notice: It will be revoked once the chosen regressor is identified, investigated, and stripped of regression ability.]
[System Notice: Not all permissions are unlocked. Quest-and-reward format remains.]
“That’s possible? Then why didn’t you do it sooner?”
[System Notice: Security reasons.]
The slide changed.
A faceless profile appeared.
Among the dense résumé text, one line stood out:
Former Time Administrator
I already knew.
[System Notice: We currently refer to them as ‘The One Who Returns.’]
“The red bastard.”
[System Notice: Whenever administrators attempted to investigate the chosen regressor, this individual interfered.]
[System Notice: Your lack of authority previously was to avoid exposing you.]
[System Notice: However, since they have already noticed your existence, I strongly recommended granting you Grade Zero—for your safety.]
I could almost imagine some rookie bureaucrat punching the air in triumph.
Looks like yelling at it last time worked.
[System Notice: Direct communication regarding timelines and clues is now possible.]
[System Notice: Only within this space.]
“That’s it? You can’t remove my skill penalties or anything?”
[System Notice: Not possible.]
“Tch.”
Still—
Direct answers were better than being blindsided.
Q&A Mode
[System Notice: Human timelines are too vast to explain comprehensively.]
[System Notice: A Q&A format is most efficient.]
Click.
A white slide appeared.
<Q&A>
“That’s it? Three slides and we’re already at Q&A?”
[System Notice: If you prefer, we can wake you immediately.]
“Why do you always escalate? Fine.”
I did have questions.
A lot.
But swallowing everything at once would overload me.
“Start with fixed events.”
That was the most urgent.
Up until now, I’d believed my family’s eventual financial stability was inevitable.
If fixed events could disappear—
That was unacceptable.
“You said Sarin’s fixed event was deleted. Is that even possible?”
The monitor displayed:
<This is awkward;;>
[System Notice: Hajin-nim, do you believe in fate?]
“No.”
[System Notice: If someone returned ten years without knowing they had regressed, would they make different choices?]
“…Not sure.”
[System Notice: Most humans repeat the same choices—even across hundreds of loops.]
[System Notice: Every decision is shaped by accumulated experience.]
The slide changed.
Seo Taehyun’s profile photo from Boy’s Empire appeared.
[System Notice: Across all repeated timelines, Seo Taehyun always chose to pursue idol debut.]
“That never changed.”
[System Notice: Correct.]
[System Notice: But the path differed each time.]
Five panels appeared.
Five versions of Taehyun.
—Signed with a small agency for the highest bonus.
—Joined an overseas company under pressure.
—Quit and lived normally before debuting later through chance.
—Other variations.
But one thing remained constant:
He chose to debut.
I realized something.
If companions’ timelines were visible—
The companion system wasn’t just support.
It was an investigative tool.
The blue window returned.
[System Notice: Some choices never change.]
[System Notice: Additionally, certain outcomes must occur due to the laws governing reality.]
[System Notice: Death. Failure. Despair.]
[System Notice: No human can succeed at every moment.]
Faces flickered and vanished.
[System Notice: These are ‘fixed events.’]
Everything faded.
Darkness.
A single question mark glowed.
[System Notice: But what if a human appears who makes different choices every time?]
[System Notice: Someone who remembers.]
[System Notice: Someone like you.]
My reflection stared back at me from the dark monitor.
“…Go on.”
Something told me this explanation wasn’t going to be short.