The Way to Save the Crazy Returnees – Chapter 1 – The Return of the Chaebol Third-Generation

Author: CleiZz

The world’s richest man, according to Pogos.

An emperor who built a luxury empire spanning across Asia.

The CEO of AMA—a multinational corporation with the highest market capitalization not only in South Korea but across the entire Asian continent.

…But none of those grand titles belong to me.

They all belong to my grandfather, Kwak Jin-tae. I’m just his one and only grandson.

Yes, I’m a third-generation chaebol.

Thanks to that, I grew up without lacking anything.

My parents passed away in an accident when I was young, but my grandfather made sure I never felt their absence. He raised me with care and devotion.

Determined not to disappoint him, I studied hard and actively built connections. Why bother, when those connections would have come naturally anyway? Because my grandfather had kept my identity a complete secret.

People knew he had a grandson, but they had no idea it was me.

Under his protection, I lived a clean, disciplined life. No alcohol, no drugs, no clubs, no distractions. I stayed on the straight and narrow, and before long, I was on the verge of joining AMA.

By the way, the only thing I ever got close to back then was books. They say books are food for the mind, right?

So once a month, I made sure to stock my study with something new.

That day was no different.

“What’s this?”

“It’s the book you requested, young master.”

“I ordered this?”

Its plain cover read: The Returner Saves.

At a glance, it was clearly a light, time-killing fantasy novel.

But something about it felt off.

I was sure I hadn’t ordered anything like it. Yet strangely, I found myself drawn to it.

“Is there a problem, young master?”

“No… not really.”

After dismissing the housekeeper who’d been organizing my study, I dove into the book.

And when I finally turned the last page—

“…What the—? Huh? W-wait?!”

—I was literally sucked into it.

That’s when I realized something.

Even a third-generation chaebol heir can get isekai’d.

And of course, it had to be into a typical, cliché fantasy world.

***

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The character I ended up possessing was an undead slave who had labored for a thousand years—only to be annihilated by the protagonist himself.

Yes, not just anyone—the protagonist.

That’s the character I had become.

At first, I was in denial. Then came the rage—anger at myself for getting into such a mess. After that, fear took over. What if I could never return to the real world?

But soon, I convinced myself, “It’s better to accept it,” and I set out to try and change the fate of the character I had possessed.

The result?

Failure.

In the end, I resigned myself to my destiny—to work endlessly for a thousand years in an undead body. Yes, I accepted it.

And now…

Finally, the end of this unpaid labor is in sight. The protagonist of The Returner Saves has finally come for me. It had been a thousand years since this damned possession began.

“Poor guy. Now, I’ll give you some rest.”

True to his role as the main character, he was absurdly good-looking—handsome enough to rival a top-tier idol.

And with those words… he killed me.

Well—not killed. Erased.

“Thank you.”

In any case, I was finally freed. The protagonist had delivered my salvation. Just as I was ready to embrace eternal rest—

[Congratulations on your return.]

[The Returner Saves is now bound to you.]

Blue text appeared against a pitch-black background.

I barely had time to process what I was seeing when—

“Patient? Patient!”

A panicked voice pierced my ears, and my eyes shot open.

“Doctor! The patient has woken up!”

“Mr. Kwak Yoon-hoo, can you tell us where you are?!”

Kwak Yoon-hoo.

A name I hadn’t heard in a thousand years.

Yes—I had returned.

“Haa… haha…”

“Sir?”

“Ahahahaha!”

I was back.

In my world.

***

It had been a return after a thousand years.

But in the real world, only a week had passed.

“You’ve got to be kidding…”

It truly felt like a lie.

“Yoon-hoo, are you alright?”

“Huh?”

“If you’re not feeling well, go get some rest. I’ll have your meal sent up.”

Sitting across from me, my grandfather watched me with worry written all over his face.

Well, no surprise—I had just been mumbling to myself for no reason.

The only grandson, his precious one, had suddenly collapsed and been in a coma for a week.

To ease his worries, I cheerfully replied, “I’m fine, Grandpa. Please eat first. You’ve been through a lot because of me.”

“You eat first. Just seeing you eat will be enough to fill me up.”

There was nothing I could do but go along with it.

Without hesitation, I reached out—straight into the pot—and scooped up a chunk of kimchi stew with my bare hand.

“Yoon-hoo…?”

My grandfather looked stunned, as if he couldn’t quite find the words.

“…Ah.”

As soon as I met his shaken gaze, a soft sigh slipped out of me.

That… was a mistake.

After spending a thousand years eating with my hands, it had simply become a habit—second nature.

Awkwardly, I smiled and apologized,

“Sorry. I guess I got used to eating like this.”

“What…?”

Grandpa looked utterly confused. Still smiling, I picked up a cucumber slice with my hand and popped it into my mouth. The crisp texture was oddly comforting.

“It’s delicious.”

Sure, I was supposed to use chopsticks or a spoon, but my hands moved on instinct.

It’s true what they say—habits really do die hard.

“Yoon-hoo.”

“Yes, Grandpa?”

“Take a short break and come back. You seem to need some rest.”

Still licking my fingers, I gave him a nod.

I had already decided to cancel my plans to join AMA—the one that had been finalized even before I got isekai’d. I’d had more than enough hard labor in that other world.

And so, thanks to Grandpa’s thoughtfulness, I went to recuperate at a villa in Japan. From spring to summer, summer to fall, fall to winter.

Spending all four seasons in another country was more fulfilling than I ever expected. No, to be honest—it was bliss. Just resting, thinking about nothing, doing nothing… it was heaven.

But then, one day—as winter passed and spring began to peek through—Grandpa summoned me. With that, my year-long break—or rather, my recovery—came to an end, and I returned to Korea.

The first place I visited was the AMA headquarters.

…Or so I thought.

“Grandpa?”

My grandfather had passed away.

After a thousand years as an undead, I’d seen more than enough corpses to be numb to death.

But even so—

“Grandpa!”

I couldn’t accept the death of the only family I had left. I rushed toward him—

—or at least, I tried to.

“Urgh…!”

If only my stomach hadn’t been pierced.

Coughing up blood, I glanced downward. A strange hand was jutting out through my abdomen.

‘A hand?’

At first, I thought I was hallucinating. But no—it was real. The hand slowly pulled itself out of my body—

“Gah!”

—then immediately slashed across my throat.

I staggered and collapsed, gasping for air as I turned my head. A blood-soaked hand came into view.

With a ragged breath, I slowly lifted my gaze.

My eyes met the gaunt, hollow face of a man. He scratched his cheek and asked nonchalantly,

“What the hell? You’re not dead?”

I had to run.

The survival instinct I had forgotten for a thousand years suddenly surged back. Coughing up blood, I desperately crawled across the floor—but I didn’t get far before I was seized by an invisible force.

“Keuk… Ugh…!”

My body was lifted into the air, suspended by a power I couldn’t see or understand.

I struggled with everything I had, but it was useless.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His voice, laced with mockery, echoed in my ear. As if he found the whole thing entertaining.

And with that—

My vision was swallowed by darkness.

‘So this is how I die…’

After a thousand years of unpaid labor, I had barely begun to enjoy life as a chaebol—only to be killed by some crazy person.

Alongside my grandfather, no less.

‘Grandpa…’

Thinking back to his final moments—when he collapsed, bleeding all over the worn-out desk—tears streamed down my face.

Wait.

‘Tears…?’

I furrowed my brows slightly.

“Patient? Patient!”

Startled by the voice I heard, I suddenly opened my eyes wide.

“Doctor! The patient has woken up!”

“Mr. Kwak Yoon-hoo, can you tell us where you are?!”

Where was I?

“Th-the hospital. AMA Seoul Hospital, VVIP suite…”

This was the same place I had woken up before. The exact spot I’d returned to after being erased by the protagonist in that other world.

“Contact the chairman immediately! Let him know Mr. Kwak Yoon-hoo has regained consciousness!”

I blinked, dazed and disoriented.

I had definitely died.

And yet…

“I’m… back?”

At that moment, I had no idea—

That I would go on to regress 365 times.

***

As soon as I realized I had regressed, the first thing I did was track down the bastard who had killed me and my grandfather—and I killed him first.

Considering the mysterious power that guy possessed, I even hired dozens of mercenaries just in case. But unbelievably, he died far too easily.

Fine. That wasn’t the problem.

“Why did I come back again?”

I had regressed again.

During my third regression, I chose not to kill him right away—I simply observed. What if killing him was the trigger? What if that was what caused the regression?

So, I kept observing. And then, one day, he started frequenting clubs. Suddenly, he became a drug addict.

At the same time, that guy awakened his power. Yes, the overwhelming power he had used to kill me began to manifest the moment he became a drug user.

That’s when I realized.

That guy was not an ordinary human.

It was at that moment that I realized he was also a returnee, just like me.

And just like that, I died again.

“Ugh… damn it.”

And I entered my fourth regression.

This time, I made sure the junkie returnee never got the chance to get high. I shut down the club he frequented—cut off his access entirely.

However, I didn’t know then that the club wasn’t the only place where drugs were being distributed. To my surprise, I soon discovered that the junkie wasn’t the only returnee out there.

Because I regressed again—without even dying or killing anyone.

It just… happened. Over and over again.

By the time I passed my 30th regression, I finally understood: There were more returnees out there.

The 33rd regression.

That’s when I began to reflect. A thousand years of unpaid labor, and now this? A hellish loop with no end?

Something was seriously wrong.

Regret gave way to anger.

I tracked down every returnee I could find. Then, I kidnapped them all and forced them into comas. I had the money. Why not use it?

But even money had its limits.

There was one thing it couldn’t control: accidents.

“Damn it!”

One of the returnees’ life-support systems failed—an unintentional shutdown.

And just like that… I regressed again.

The 34rd regression.

I was terrified of how many times I’d have to go through this damn regression. At some point, I started to think that endlessly repeating regressions was worse than unpaid labor.

Yeah, I was starting to lose my mind.

“Yoon-hoo! It’s Grandpa! Please, show me your face!”

I had become a total recluse, locked away, ignoring the world. And my grandfather had suffered dozens of times because of me.

Eventually, I came to my senses.

That was in the 65th regression.

The 66rd regression.

I started an investigation to end this damn regression once and for all. And I discovered a few critical truths:

First,

If even one returnee dies, I regress.

Second,

If I die—whether by their hands or my own—I regress.

Third,

The returnees were experiencing the same phenomenon as me.

And that third point? That was the most important.

They told me that, upon returning to Earth, they had seen messages nearly identical to mine:

[Congratulations on your return.]

[The Returner Saves is now bound to you.]

The phrasing was similar.

The only real difference was the title of the book each of them had been bound to. I learned this from the junkie returnee during the 130th regression—he unexpectedly became my friend.

Yeah, as you might have guessed, after regressing more than 100 times, I finally completed my investigation into regressions. With that done, all that was left was to resolve it.

To stop this endless cycle of regression, none of the returnees could die. And neither could I.

If even one of us dies, the regression occurs all over again.

And lastly, I had to destroy the book that bound them—just like “The Returner Saves,” which was bound to me.

All the incredible powers the returnees had shown—including the junkie—came from those books. But destroying them wasn’t as simple as burning or tearing them apart.

To destroy a book, the returnee had to willingly give it up—meaning they had to be saved. I had to help them find peace in this world, help them settle down and become satisfied with their new lives. Only then would they be able to let go of the book themselves.

That was the only way to break the bond.

I learned this from the junkie returnee, who was a friend and provided a lot of help—despite causing me numerous deaths.

So, I got to work—doing everything I could to destroy those cursed books.

My plan was simple:

To use my wealth and the experience from hundreds of regressions to convince them to be satisfied with their current lives. The key was to get each of them to willingly give up their dependent books all at once.

Otherwise, someone would always mess things up.

And now—here I am, in my 365th regression.

“Patient? Patient!”

I had finally completed my preparations to destroy the books bound to those damn returnee bastards. And honestly, even tearing them limb from limb wouldn’t have been enough to satisfy me.

In truth, the preparations were already done a while ago.

In the 364th regression, I nearly succeeded in ending this damn regression.

“Doctor! The patient has woken up!”

“Mr. Kwak Yoon-hoo, can you tell us where you are?!”

If that bastard hadn’t gone off the rails, I would’ve succeeded.

‘Who knew he’d go nuts at the last second and try to destroy the world?’

I truly didn’t expect that he would attempt to summon monsters in this world by causing a supernatural phenomenon called ‘Gate.’

And so, in the end, I had to kill him with my own hands.

Because I couldn’t allow this peaceful world—aside from the existence of returnees—to turn into a hellhole overrun by monsters.

Yes, I…

“Ha… hahaha…”

I killed the very person I was trying to save.