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

The Winter Soldier I

What’s your favorite season?

Summer? Fall? Spring? Winter?

For the record, I myself am not particularly fond of any season.

Once upon a time, people in Korea used to take pride in the country’s distinct four seasons, but that was long ago. After the collapse of civilization, the four seasons truly became well-defined again.

But, as with everything, there were pros and cons. Just because the seasons had become more distinct didn’t mean we could rejoice.

First, let’s talk about spring.

“Your Excellency, we’ve observed a large, yellow cloud approaching from the west and the north.”

“A yellow dust storm? Send a cooperation request to Samcheon World to monitor the movement of the cloud immediately. Order all citizens to wear masks.”

“Is it really that serious? As far as I know, breathing in a little fine dust won’t kill you.”

“It’s not just ordinary yellow dust. Each fine dust particle has been transformed into a deadly toxin by the anomaly. Without a mask, you’ll be dead in three minutes.”

“Ah.”

Then there’s summer.

“Undertaker! A typhoon is heading straight for us!”

“Calm down. Let’s start building an ark.”

Next is fall.

“G-Guild leader, why does it smell like blood, instead of leaves, when the autumn foliage falls?”

“Just ignore it.”

“But lately, when I walk down the street and the leaves brush past me, I keep hearing faint whispers, like ‘Save me...’ And the ginkgo trees, when their fruits drop, there’s this awful stench, like human innards—”

“I said ignore it.”

“...Yes, sir.”

Ah! The wonderful Korean Peninsula!

Not that this hellish landscape was limited to Korea alone. The more appropriate thing for us to say would be, "The wonderful planet Earth!"

But no matter how harsh spring, summer, or fall became with these extreme weather phenomena, they could never claim the title of the ultimate boss. That honor belonged to winter.

The cruel, white tyrant.

From the dawn of civilization to its end, humanity’s greatest enemy had always been winter.

One day, Cheon Yo-hwa and I were walking down the hallway of Baekhwa High when a student stepped in front of us.

“Huh? What’s going on? I told you not to interrupt when I’m with Teacher... Oh, wait. It’s So-yeon.” Yo-hwa’s eyes momentarily turned cold, but upon recognizing the student, her expression softened. “What’s the matter?”

“......”

The short-haired student, Joo So-yeon, bowed her head slightly in greeting. She was one of the original members of Baekhwa High. Had I not intervened to defeat Infinite Void, she would have been one of the many who died.

Remember, out of the 750 students at Baekhwa High, only 19 survived, and 2 of them eventually died by suicide. The student standing before us, Joo So-yeon, was one of the ones who took her own life.

Of course, in the rounds where Infinite Void was defeated, that tragedy was averted.

Now, So-yeon was just a quiet, shy underclassman suffering from mutism. Her special status lay in the fact that she was one of the few who could speak candidly to the student council president.

“......”

“Take your time. It’s okay, you can speak slowly.”

“......”

Unlike Lee Ha-yul, who also struggled with speech but excelled in controlling Aura, So-yeon lacked such abilities. She didn’t have any overpowered skills, like controlling threads to make puppets speak on her behalf. Thus, she resorted to using a different method.

Slowly, painstakingly, So-yeon scratched letters into Yo-hwa’s palm with her nails, one by one.

The letters read:

W I N T E R

As soon as Yo-hwa saw the word, her face stiffened. I glanced at her palm from the side and found my expression matching hers.

Yo-hwa asked, her tone serious, “Winter? Are you sure? But it’s only June.”

Joo So-yeon nodded.

“That can’t be right. Wait... So-yeon, could you show us?”

So-yeon nodded again, then clasped her hands together in a prayer-like gesture. Yo-hwa and I stood on either side of her, forming a protective barrier.

A few seconds passed.

Crack! Crackle!

Suddenly, the sound of ice breaking echoed through the halls of Baekhwa High. Frost began forming around us, spreading out in a three-meter radius, with So-yeon at the center.

“Yo-hwa.”

“Yes, teacher.”

We both released Aura to protect ourselves from the cold. The temperature was dropping rapidly, to the point that it would be unbearable for So-yeon alone.

But the temperature wasn’t the only concern.

Crack! Crackle!

The windows lining the hall instantly froze over before shattering into pieces. Snow piled up rapidly in the three-meter radius around us.

Yo-hwa, So-yeon, and I stood in a small, safe zone. However, everywhere else—to our legs, then waist, then shoulders—snow rose higher and higher. Eventually, the snow towered over even our heads.

It was freezing.

“......”

“......”

Huff.

When Yo-hwa exhaled, her breath looked like dry ice in the frigid air.

Out of curiosity, I briefly released the Aura protecting my forearm. The surrounding cold bit into my skin with ferocity. It was easily -120°C.

“So-yeon. Are we done?”

She shook her head. We weren’t finished yet.

“Alright, then. Can you stop?”

With a small nod, So-yeon released her ability.

The bitter cold vanished. The broken window fragments crumbled to dust, and the snow that had piled up around us began to melt away.

Baekhwa High’s Awakener, Joo So-yeon.

Her ability was called Weather Forecast. She could predict and summon the season and weather that would occur up to one month in advance.

Her accuracy? Just 50%.

As you can imagine, it wasn’t the most useful ability in everyday situations. Telling someone, “It will either rain tomorrow or it won’t,” would only get you a response like, “And how exactly does that help?”

But in emergencies, her ability was invaluable.

“...Teacher.”

“Yes. It looks like we need to prepare.”

Winter was coming.

In a month’s time, there was a 50% chance that a -120°C winter would descend upon the Korean Peninsula.

As expected, the National Road Management Corps was thrown into chaos.

“A temperature of -120°C? In the middle of summer? Can we even survive a winter like that...?”

“Of course not. That’s why they call it ‘killer weather,’ Commander Noh Do-hwa. You’ve seen 100-meter-high tsunamis in summer, didn’t you? Was that normal?”

“Goddamn. Living on Earth really sucks...” Do-hwa grumbled and swore, but had the Russians heard her, they’d have scoffed. The average yearly temperature there hovered around -100°C.

Still, expecting Do-hwa to sympathize with the Russians when she had no empathy for her fellow Koreans was a bit of a stretch. She was probably already planning to sacrifice half the city’s population.

“So, anyone got any brilliant ideas? This city’s mostly shantytowns. If a -120°C blizzard hits, everyone here, including you and me, will freeze to death.”

“First, we need to remain calm. This is just another phenomenon caused by the Void. There’s no reason to sit here in Busan waiting for winter to arrive.”

“And?”

“We head north, past Pyongyang. We face the winter head-on.”

“Wait... we?”

Literally.

We issued a telepathic command through the constellation, The Morning Star of the Second Coming, telling the citizens of Dongbang Singuk to stay indoors. Thanks to the overwhelming authority of the Star, the evacuation went smoothly.

As for us, a party of 50—including Noh Do-hwa, Yu Ji-won, the Saintess, and the National Road Management Corps’ operations team—headed north in a two-week expedition.

“Haaa.”

Wearing fur hats and gloves, the Saintess exhaled deeply, her breath hanging in the air like a balloon before dispersing into white mist.

“It’s chilly here already, and it’s only July. The air here feels different from Seoul.”

Do-hwa stood silently beside her, arms crossed, glaring at me. She had led her team all the way to Sinuiju, where I had arrived earlier.

Spreading my arms wide, I welcomed them. “Welcome, O King of Korea. Thank you for bringing your people all this way.”

“Forget that. What the hell is that?”

“Oh, that? Don’t worry about it. It’s just a sort of totem.”

“What the hell?! How am I supposed to ignore that?!”

Do-hwa was pointing at the Statue of Liberty, standing tall and proud, holding her torch high.

Yes, I had built a replica of the Statue of Liberty in Sinuiju.

While Do-hwa had been leading her party north, I had arrived ahead of them and busied myself building the monument. Of course, it wasn’t made of the same expensive copper and steel as the original. I had scavenged stone from around Sinuiju. But the sculpture was well-made, a near-perfect replica, standing at the original height of 93.5 meters.

Confronted by this overwhelming structure, Do-hwa stared at me like an Irish immigrant arriving in America for the first time, her face a mix of awe, anxiety, and hope.

“For fuck’s sake. Why the hell did you build the Statue of Liberty in Sinuiju?!”

For the record, I’ve never been great at reading Do-hwa’s expressions.

“You just don’t understand, Commander.”

“Huh?”

“The Statue of Liberty, no matter the medium, is always the first monument to be attacked. More specifically, wherever the Statue of Liberty stands, disaster always strikes first.”

“What kind of nonsense is that...?”

“If you’re skeptical, take a quick trip across the Tumen River. It’s colder here than it is there.”

Do-hwa lowered her head, muttering something under her breath. Probably cursing my brilliant foresight.

The Saintess, who had been listening, nodded thoughtfully. “It’s like a lightning rod, isn’t it?”

“Exactly. Especially when it comes to weather-related disasters, like climate change or eco-apocalypses. The Statue of Liberty is always the first thing to get destroyed.”

“I remember seeing that in a few movies.”

“Which leads us to the hypothesis: all climate disasters target the Statue of Liberty.” I pointed dramatically at the towering statue. “In other words, as long as we protect the Statue of Liberty, any climate disaster will be nothing but a fleeting nuisance.”

“......”

“All the residents of Sinuiju and our soldiers have already been relocated to Pyongyang. Now, the only things left here are us and the Statue of Liberty.”

Thus, the strategy for countering this anomaly, known as “Blizzard” or “Winter General,” was simple.

On our side, we just needed to protect the Statue of Liberty.

On the Anomaly’s side, they had to destroy it. Because as long as the Statue of Liberty stood intact, it was the same as the climate disaster not having arrived yet.

In short—

“From now on, this place isn’t Sinuiju anymore—it’s New York. Commander Noh Do-hwa, here’s your official appointment as Mayor of New York.”

“Wha—”

I handed her a prepared certificate and a nameplate.

The first Korean to become the mayor of New York. Of course, being the mayor of New York came with its perks. Even though Do-hwa didn’t speak much English, it didn’t matter. In our New New York, she could do her job as mayor without getting caught up in silly prejudices about nationality or language.

Thus, the place evolved into a country that boasted not only “The Jerusalem of the East” but also “The New York of the East.” A region that had once been the poorest in Asia had now flourished.

Clearly, this world was an alternate history, and Dongbang Singuk was the true protagonist of the story.

“Look at the Amnok River. Doesn’t it resemble Manhattan? With its islands and everything. It’s basically New York.”

“......”

“You all will be appointed as police chiefs, federal judges, and other important officials. Your task is to protect the Statue of Liberty at all costs, understood?”

Whack!

Do-hwa picked up the nameplate that read “Mayor of New York, Noh Do-hwa” and smacked me in the back of the head.

Let the defense game begin.

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