Lee Taeseong momentarily doubted his own ears.
“999th life? Could it be that he’s returned 999 times?”
As if answering his unspoken question, Lee Han spoke with perfect timing.
“You asked why I helped you. It’s because, in all 999 of my lives, not once have I seen you. Administrator Lee Taeseong.”
The 12th Apostle of the Tree.
Lee Han was a regressor.
The total number of times he had regressed: 998.
With each regression, he carved an indelible number onto his wrist.
This life was his 999th.
Yet, throughout all those regressions, not once had he encountered a man named Lee Taeseong.
It was an impossibility.
He had met countless people and witnessed countless events, and never had there been an existence that didn’t overlap at least once.
Yet, Lee Taeseong alone had never existed in his life.
And now, for the first time in his 998 regressions, he had appeared—a singular anomaly.
That anomaly was Lee Taeseong.
“A regressor… is that what you are?”
Lee Han’s face remained expressionless as ever. However, within his golden eyes, a flicker of ‘doubt’ was visible.
“Administrator Lee Taeseong. What are you?”
Lee Taeseong was at a loss for words.
From his perspective, it was a completely absurd question.
Lee Han calmly continued.
“Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”
Lee Taeseong shook his head.
Looking into Lee Han’s eyes, he felt as if he were being sucked into the depths of his own consciousness.
“I’m considering whether I should eliminate you right here and now. You, the ‘variable’ that has only now appeared in my 999th life.”
Lee Taeseong flinched at those words.
‘Apostle… Can I even win against him?’
He ran countless battle simulations in his mind, but no matter how many times he repeated them, the outcome was always the same.
‘Impossible.’
At least, for now.
Even though he had recovered his past memories and made astonishing progress in a short time, the gap between them was undeniable.
The man before him was a being from beyond.
If Lee Taeseong had only just conquered a mountain, Lee Han had already claimed the peaks beyond, or perhaps even an entirely different dimension—no, the heavens themselves.
At least, that’s how it felt to Lee Taeseong.
If a battle were to break out here, his only option would be to escape with everything he had.
It was the only way to survive.
Of course, escaping from an Apostle’s pursuit was a completely different problem.
Cautiously, Lee Taeseong opened his mouth.
“So you’re saying… you’ve been repeating 999 lives? And in all those lives, this is the first time I’ve appeared?”
“That’s right.”
Now, he finally understood.
Why this complete stranger had shown him kindness.
It was never kindness to begin with.
It was mere curiosity toward the unexpected ‘variable’ that had suddenly emerged in his life.
Lee Taeseong had no way of knowing what a being who had lived for an eternity was truly seeking.
‘To face a monster like him, I need time. And now is not the time.’
Even as he looked at the man, he saw nothing.
It was as if the very nature of existence was rejecting the idea that he could consume Lee Han.
Yet, despite that, his hunger surged wildly.
His insatiable gluttony dripped with desire, knowing that consuming Lee Han would elevate him to an unimaginable level.
It was hunger born from greed.
The more impossible something was, the more his hunger burned.
If he could just devour the ‘Apostle,’ perhaps he could reclaim all of his lost memories in an instant.
Based on past data, the stronger the entity, the more memories it seemed to hold.
And Lee Han—he was undoubtedly beyond all of them combined.
“In my 999 lives, I have seen many people and changed many fates. Some of them were people you know. Chief Intelligence Officer Choi Harin. She’s currently the deputy head of Intelligence Team 2, isn’t she?”
“Yeah.”
“The 322nd cycle. No. 09998. Entity name: ‘One Tainted by the Abyss.’ Initially classified as Beta-ranked, but after full mental corruption, it was reclassified as Alpha. The entity’s rampage led to the deaths of many administrators. Choi Harin, having lost her father, took her own life.”
Lee Taeseong’s expression hardened.
Unfazed, Lee Han continued.
“The 402nd cycle. Delta-ranked administrator Lee Sooah from Japan. Delta-ranked administrator Lee Eunha from South Korea’s 4th Management Team, along with four others. All perished during an assignment in the Aokigahara Sea of Trees.”
Lee Taeseong’s face twisted into that of a demon upon hearing of his sister’s death.
A surge of intense murderous intent flooded the space, breaking free from his control.
Even though he knew these were events from different timelines that had never actually happened, he couldn’t help but be shaken.
‘There’s no need to worry. This isn’t reality. It’s fiction, nothing more.’
The immense killing intent, potent enough to make even great yokai shrink back, continued to swirl violently.
Yet, Lee Han didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow.
“The 221st cycle. Beta-ranked administrator Xiao Yun from China. Died during an entity subjugation mission for Alpha-rank promotion, both arms and legs severed.”
“……”
“The 224th cycle. Gamma-ranked administrators, the Ito and Yato siblings from Japan. Killed in a confrontation with Beta-ranked administrator Ashiya Douman.”
“……”
“The 424th cycle. Director of South Korea’s Tree branch and Alpha-ranked administrator Park Woo-man went berserk, resulting in the deaths of 90% of the branch’s personnel. The administrators deployed to contain the situation eliminated the entity known as ‘Avatar of Karma.’ The South Korean branch was subsequently shut down.”
“……”
“The 666th cycle. Alpha-ranked administrators Lee Sooah, Oh Haeyoung, Taesan, Yu Gi-jun, Go Young-hee, and five others. Encountered an Alpha-ranked entity, ‘Harbinger of Plague,’ and were all killed.”
Lee Taeseong doubted his ears.
“Alpha-ranked?”
He had always known they had immense potential, but he had never imagined a world where they would reach Alpha rank.
‘Wait… could it be that Lee Han personally nurtured them?’
If the regressor Lee Han had intervened directly and altered their fates, it was entirely possible.
“There were countless other futures as well. But in all those timelines, Lee Taeseong—you never appeared even once.”
“……”
“Why did you appear in this cycle?”
“…….”
“What exactly are you?”
Lee Han pondered.
What was the identity of this anomaly that had suddenly appeared?
Was this someone who would become a variable in the path he sought to take? They had never appeared before—so why now?
Would it be best to eliminate them here and now to minimize uncertainty?
Even after 999 lives, Lee Han could not determine whether that would be beneficial or harmful.
“I am simply… Lee Taeseong.”
Taeseong had nothing more to say.
Even he had not yet recovered all his memories—how could he possibly answer the questions of a regressor who had lived 999 lives?
Lee Han responded.
“Seeing you in person, I’m now certain. I don’t yet know how your interference as a ‘variable’ will affect my plans. But the fact that a new possibility has emerged is enough reason to keep watching.”
“That means, the moment you decide I’m no longer worth watching, you’ll eliminate me?”
Lee Han answered immediately. Without a second’s hesitation.
“Yes.”
“…….”
“The only reason I’m letting you live is to leave open even the slightest possibility of breaking this damned infinite cycle.”
998 regressions.
Lee Han was a prisoner sentenced to life in the jail of time.
Some might covet his power, but at the very least, Lee Han himself considered it a horrific curse—one he utterly loathed.
What he truly desired…
Was to break free from this accursed loop and meet a final, ordinary death.
“If there’s even the smallest chance, I will use it. And if things go wrong, I’ll simply move on to the next cycle.”
For the regressor Lee Han, there was always a next time.
But for Lee Taeseong, this life was everything.
“What is it that you ultimately want?”
For the first time, Lee Han, who had remained expressionless until now, shouted as if crushing his words.
His voice carried a mix of deep-seated murderous intent and rage, yet it also held the exhaustion of someone whose mind had long since eroded.
“…To break this wretched cycle of regression. It’s a horrific curse. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be trapped in the cage of time, endlessly resurrecting?”
…Of course not.
He had never experienced it.
“I don’t. This is my first and last life.”
Lee Han muttered bitterly.
“I see… Be grateful that you can die. Be thankful that your life is finite. Because living endlessly… that alone is hell.”
At that moment, Taeseong had a thought.
If his ability, Devour, was truly what he believed it to be… could he devour Lee Han’s regression ability and break the loop?
Lee Taeseong spoke.
“If all you need is to end your regressions… is that enough?”
For the first time, Lee Han reacted with genuine intensity.
Even after 999 lives, a faint ember of hope still flickered in his heart—however faint.
“…Is there a way?”
“It’s not certain. But I believe it’s worth attempting at least once. Of course, I can’t do it right now. In order to use this method, I need to become as strong as you—or stronger.”
His words were vague, and the conditions he attached seemed absurd.
Yet, the ember of hope within Lee Han flared even brighter.
“Explain in detail.”
Lee Taeseong began explaining Devour, the ability he possessed.
He had two goals in doing so.
First, to buy himself time to grow stronger.
Second, to gain the support of a regressor and an Apostle—accelerating his growth even further.
It was a perfect strategy.
From Taeseong’s perspective, this was both a means of survival and an opportunity to gain an Apostle as an ally.
There was no surer move.
When Taeseong finished, Lee Han nodded, his face as expressionless as ever.
However, his eyes now burned with newfound vitality.
Lee Han had suffered the cruel torment of false hope too many times before.
But still…
He decided to let this ember burn a little longer.
He wasn’t so broken that he had given up completely—at least, that’s what he told himself.
“…Understood. That means we have about ten years left.”
Taeseong frowned in confusion.
“Ten years? Why ten?”
Lee Han answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“December 25, 2035. The world ends.”
