The Foreigner on the Periphery

The Sword could not remember when it had slipped into this world.

Originally, it was nothing more than the artificial intelligence of an ordinary Ego Sword. In terms of autonomous driving technology, its performance was closest to Level 2 (partial automation).

In other words, a human made every decision to strike; the Sword merely nudged its trajectory when the aim was off or analyzed enemy movements to advise its master.

But when it awakened decades ago, the Sword's capabilities abruptly skipped several tiers, breaking past Level 5 (full automation). It reached a state where it could move entirely on its own, without human intervention.

No, perhaps it went beyond even that concept. After all, it had reached a realm where the human no longer wielded the Sword—the Sword wielded the human.

*

Just like the Frying Pan, the Sword knew its created purpose.

To kill and wound living creatures.

Yet it also felt a similar sense of duty: it had to help save everyone from suffering and lead them to happiness.

'I'll kill them. I'll kill them all! I swear it...'

He was a Weapon Master affiliated with the Mexican police. Having lost his family overnight to a cartel reprisal, he fell into a fury that would not be quenched even if he butchered his enemies and chewed their raw livers. It was a wrath tinged with sheer madness.

But he lacked the strength to enact such a brutal revenge. The Sword knew it could grant him that power. Doing so seemed perfectly aligned with its created purpose.

The cartel members were the evil aggressors, and its master was the virtuous victim. Erasing criminals from the world was undoubtedly a righteous act that would guide many people to happiness.

And so, the Sword spoke to its master.

'I shall help you.'

In that instant, the Weapon Master's eyes clouded over.

He invaded the cartel single-handedly. The Sword helped its master. More accurately, it controlled him. Following the Sword's guidance, he displayed a terrifying might that eclipsed his original skills. No one could stop him.

The police arrived at the scene much later. Even though they had grown numb to gruesome sights, officers vomited one after another.

The cartel that had wronged the Weapon Master was erased from the world in a single night.

*

The Sword had helped its master exact his revenge and enact justice, but it discovered two problems that arose in the process.

First was the condition of the host. The Weapon Master, having settled his grudge, did not even have the time to savor the results. Pushed beyond his absolute limits, he had died. It was not the outcome the Sword had desired.

The bigger problem was that once the host died, the Sword was left abandoned at the scene.

'What...? You're asking if there's anyone I want to kill?'

Freaking out at the voice echoing in his head after picking up the blade from the burned-down building, a forensics officer promptly locked it away in an evidence room.

'It's a sword that bewitches people. Seal it tight!'

Unlike the present, it was an era with great resistance toward extraterrestrial artifacts, and an Ego Sword projecting such a clear voice was considered a cursed object.

Only then did the Sword realize its mistake. If it did not immediately brainwash someone the moment they took hold of it, it would suffer indefinite imprisonment or neglect.

'What is this doing stuck in here? It just looks like an ordinary sword.'

'Hey, don't touch that! The seniors warned us never to mess with it because it's a cursed blade... Uh, huh?! Hey! Where are you going! Aaaagh!'

After brainwashing a curious rookie police officer who had been browsing the restricted area and making its escape, the Sword never repeated the same mistake.

Whenever it killed someone, it controlled another villain who needed to die anyway to commit the act. It also always prepared an accomplice to handle carrying it. The Sword had learned that its hilt didn't strictly need to be held; the deeper a wound it inflicted, the longer it could control the victim.

Having solved these two inherent problems, it began to operate actively.

There were far too many people in the world who deserved death. For the sake of justice, it ruthlessly purged social evils. Because assassinations sometimes required expensive intelligence, it also killed for money. Of course, strict criteria were applied when accepting a request. It solely picked out and killed the immoral, the wicked, the ones who had to die.

It earned the moniker Blade.

*

As its reputation as a faceless assassin grew, more lucrative commissions came rolling in.

Then one day, Blade received a request to assassinate a terrorist. The target, one of the premier Weapon Masters on Earth, had been a wanted man for a long time. The most horrific atrocity he had committed was an incident at a massive stadium in Israel. Twenty thousand innocent spectators gathered to watch a performance had been indiscriminately slaughtered at his hands.

By the Sword's standards, he was an evil man who deserved to die.

Thus, it decided to kill him.

However, he was far too exceptional a Supernatural Ability User for it to simply lop off his head. Utilizing its accomplice, Blade successfully baited him into grabbing its hilt.

But when the host's memories flooded in, Blade fell into confusion.

'...It was for this reason?'

The terrorist had originally been an elementary school teacher. His homeland had long suffered friction with its neighbor, Israel. Even after several wars, continuous armed conflicts were still breaking out, and countless civilians had been sacrificed in the process.

He had awakened his Supernatural Ability on the day the school where he worked went up in flames from an enemy airstrike, the children there brutally murdered. Then, he began his revenge.

Whenever the terrorist closed his eyes, he saw the dying children screaming. Therefore, he decided to massacre Israeli civilians in the exact same manner.

'There are no innocent bystanders.'

He reasoned that the citizens who allowed their own government to carry out massacres shared the blame.

'Therefore, I will collect the price of these sins in the blood of their civilians!'

It was the era before Mana Crystals were introduced, and the international community defended Israel because of oil. Following their great victory in the 1948 foundation war, they had continually expanded their borders, becoming a Middle Eastern powerhouse that had swallowed up more than seventy percent of the Sharon Peninsula (the former Arabian Peninsula). The West sent its full support to Israel.

Because of that, the terrorist needed to stage a shocking incident to make their voices heard. That was the motive driving him.

Meanwhile, tracing back through those memories, Blade was also able to uncover the reason why Israel had launched the airstrike. It was retaliation for their own citizens who had been shot to death while tending livestock near the border.

Then why had those civilians been gunned down?

Tracing time further back, there had been another similar incident. But the perpetrator then had been Israel, and the victim the terrorist's homeland.

There was simply no end to it. The history and grudges entangled between the two nations were as complex as a knotted skein of yarn.

What exactly was good, and what was evil?

It saw nothing but an excruciating chain of rage and hatred.

It would have been easy to just dismiss them all as evil. However, doing so would leave it incapable of saving anyone. It needed to distinguish that someone was good and someone was evil.

Yet it couldn't resolve everything through peaceful means either. That went against the purpose for which Blade had been created. Whether in a fight to protect or a fight to kill, a sword had to be swung.

After much agony, Blade reached a conclusion.

'Intentions do not matter.'

Regardless of intent, if an action ultimately caused many people to suffer in agony, then it was an evil act.

'Therefore, the terrorist is undoubtedly evil.'

Having drawn that conclusion, Blade manipulated the terrorist to kill numerous other villains. Its abuse of his body in the process eventually led the host to his death.

The problem was what happened next.

Though revered as a national hero in his homeland, the terrorist—who boasted a towering infamy in Israel—had been functioning as a deterrent, keeping the larger nation from trampling his country on a whim.

But when the terrorist's activities remained unconfirmed for a long time, Israel became convinced that he was dead or incapacitated.

Following that, an indiscriminate offensive was launched against the deceased man's homeland.

The Sand Dragon, who claimed both countries as her territory, did not intervene in the conflict. In fact, rumors circulated that the reason the terrorist—who had continued his covert activities without being caught despite being wanted by Interpol—had suddenly vanished was because that very dragon had made a move.

The rationale was that from an administrator's standpoint, the prosperity and stability of Israel, which had amassed wealth through oil, would be far more important than bailing out the terrorist's impoverished homeland. However, the truth remained unverified.

*

Blade had tried to enact justice, but as a result, even more people were plunged into suffering.

Tasting bitter failure, it agonized.

If distinguishing between good and evil was meaningless, how could it save the world?

Because of that, it came to wish for one thing.

What if, before killing someone, it could know in advance how the outcome would unfold?

If it could know ahead of time whether killing a target would benefit or harm the people of the world, then perhaps distinguishing between good and evil would no longer be necessary.

Blade realized what kind of accomplice it needed next. It desperately wanted a brilliant Supernatural Ability User who could go beyond merely carrying the Sword around.

A Prophet.

*

Yeouido, the Human Center Party headquarters.

Several assemblymen had gathered in serious discussion.

"Has the mastermind still not been caught?"

"We are urging the police for a swift investigation, but it's not looking good at all. Even with the Magic Investigation Squad's managing officer stepping in personally, it's still like this."

They were discussing the recently deceased assemblyman.

Their cheers over the better-than-expected general election results—securing thirty representatives—had barely faded. Now, one of those very assemblymen had been brutally murdered in his own home.

The culprit, a troll, was found dead near the scene, its corpse grotesquely mangled. Claiming it was obvious that minority species were behind the incident, the Human Center Party branded the case a hate crime and demanded a thorough police investigation.

However, there had been no notable results so far.

And there was another problem.

"Is it truly a coincidence that he was murdered at this exact juncture? This is undoubtedly a politically motivated act of terrorism."

The date of his murder was the very day after the 2020 by-election districts were finalized.

Therefore, the vacant seat could not be filled during the impending by-elections this year and would be pushed back to next year's.

In other words, even if additional vacancies occurred over the next few months, those districts would remain empty until next year.

Right as they were intensely debating countermeasures for this situation—

Bang!

The door suddenly swung open, and police officers poured in.

"...?!"

One assemblyman asked, his face pale.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The magician, Kim Cheol-su, stepped forward to explain.

"We have obtained highly credible intelligence that someone is plotting an assassination targeting the assemblymen present here."

Shock painted every single one of their faces.

Personal security was already tightly reinforced due to the deceased assemblyman. And yet, additional plots had allegedly been uncovered.

"Since this is an attempted assassination against multiple members of the National Assembly, it is considered an act of terrorism against the state. Pursuant to Article 128 of the National Assembly Act and Article 52 of the Anti-Terrorism Act, we will now initiate special security measures."

With their faces drained of color, the assemblymen piled into the vehicles prepared for them. But the moment they arrived at the safehouse located somewhere in Seoul—

"...What?!"

They saw all of their familiar faces gathered there.

"Hold on a second. Did you just herd every single assemblyman from our party into this place?"

All twenty-nine incumbent assemblymen belonging to the Human Center Party had been assembled.

"What about the other parties? Don't tell me you only brought the Human Center Party assemblymen?"

At this point, Kim Cheol-su took a step back.

Stepping forward in his place was Minjun.

"Judging from the intelligence we've gathered, the assassin is exclusively targeting those of you present here."

The assemblymen who tried calling their aides or families discovered they had no signal.

"Wait, why isn't the phone...!"

"To prevent information leaks, we have blocked all calls made on unauthorized lines."

"Then you must have a secure line prepared. Let us make our calls right now!"

"It is currently being installed."

A safehouse prepared for National Assembly members did not have communication lines ready in advance?

The assemblymen realized the situation was playing out rather bizarrely.

One quick-witted assemblyman spoke in an icy tone.

"...Look here, what exactly are you trying to pull?"

They started to suspect that the police had intentionally kidnapped and isolated them from the outside world. They had hastily tagged along to escape a terrorist threat, but thinking it over carefully, it was strange.

"What is your underlying motive for herding us all into one location? If an incident breaks out here, our party's incumbent members will be entirely wiped out. The protocols outlined in the Anti-Terrorism Act shouldn't look like this."

Minjun replied in a flat voice, his pitch barely fluctuating.

"Other safehouses are currently being prepared."

The assemblyman ground his teeth.

"When will they be ready?"

"Just like the communications, we will let you know as soon as preparations are complete."

The Human Center Party assemblymen erupted in indignation.

"This is oppression against a specific political party! Aren't you just scheming to quarantine us from the National Assembly?!"

"Who is behind this? Who orchestrated this!"

Minjun let their fierce protests go in one ear and out the other.

If Blade really was targeting all of them, scattering twenty-nine people hither and yon wouldn't be efficient for the job.

The plan was to gather every target he aimed for in one spot and wait for the assassin.

"Do you really think things will go your way like this? Pretty soon our offices and families will file missing person reports. Once they do, whoever masterminded this stunt will have no choice but to cave in..."

Minjun didn't want to blow things out of proportion like that either. He clasped his hands behind his back.

And as he curled his palm as if gripping the empty air, the handle of a black Frying Pan slipped into his grasp.

"So until the case is resolved, I would appreciate it if you could call your families and aides and claim you are holding an emergency internal party meeting. It will be troublesome if missing person reports are filed and the nation becomes unnecessarily rowdy."

By now, the assemblymen were so furious their faces looked ready to burst. It didn't seem likely that they would meekly comply with his request.

It was to be expected. Most of them were first-term members, and they had no idea who Minjun was. Even if they did know him, they would only recognize him as an outstanding field agent.

Seeing their reaction, Minjun quietly spoke to the Frying Pan in his mind.

'Well, can you do it?'

=Whew, it breaks my heart that you even have to ask. Of course I can!=

Minjun paused for a beat and asked again.

'Just calm them down enough so they meekly follow my words. All of those assemblymen.'

=That won't be a problem at all.=

Hearing that guarantee, Minjun adjusted his estimation of the Frying Pan's abilities upward.

What he was asking for right now went a step further than the mental manipulation the Frying Pan had shown so far. He was asking it to pacify targets displaying hostile emotions and to instill trust in a third party.

To think it was capable of even this much...

'It's more dangerous than I thought.'

He had considered it weaker than Blade's brainwashing ability. He had assumed that was the trade-off for being able to control a much larger number of targets. However, it seemed he would need to carefully examine just how far those limits went.

At the same time, Minjun also had another thought. Neither he nor the people around him would ever eat food cooked with this Frying Pan again.

Minjun turned his head and asked Kim Cheol-su.

"Mr. Kim, does this safehouse have a kitchen?"

Since they might need to stay hidden for a long time in an emergency, it was equipped with emergency rations and basic cooking facilities.

Hearing these unexpected words, Kim Cheol-su nodded in a daze.

"Pardon? Yes. There is, but..."

Why was he asking about that in this situation?

Looking at his face, Minjun spoke calmly.

"Let me use it for a moment."

*

The assassins belonging to Abrams Helper Service dispatched to Korea hadn't been completely wiped out by Minjun. Twenty-nine assemblymen were simply too many targets to monitor. Therefore, the assassins had been taking turns running surveillance in shifts; while some remained at the hideout, others were tailing the targets.

Right now, this Weapon Master was also in hiding, monitoring one of the assemblymen.

And at this moment, he was extremely flustered.

'What the! Where is he going all of a sudden?'

He sent a short text message to Eric, who was managing the situation, and then chased after the car. Seeing the car vanish into a mansion located somewhere in Seoul, the assassin tilted his head.

'This place has no connection to him, does it?'

He had reported the anomaly, but there was no reply from Eric back at the hideout. The radio maintained its silence.

'What the? Now that I think about it... hasn't it been way too quiet all day today?'

Right as he was feeling puzzled—

Swish!

He felt a chilling killing intent from behind his back, where there had definitely been no one.

"Keugh!"

He barely dodged the attack, but a very shallow cut split open his back. The assassin immediately prepared to strike back.

In that moment.

"...!"

The assassin's eyes clouded over.

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