The Foreigner on the Periphery

Kim Cheol-su experienced profound cognitive and sensory dissonance.

‘What... is this?’

His former mentor, who had asked to borrow the kitchen for a moment, had suddenly made an incomprehensible request: send all the police officers out into the hallway. Kim Cheol-su stubbornly insisted on staying behind as the officer in charge, and after some deliberation, Minjun allowed it.

Once the room was cleared, Minjun abruptly raided the pantry. He pulled out dozens of preserved rations, tore open the bags, and dumped their contents directly into his Frying Pan before drizzling oil over the pile. Only then did he turn on the stove. The cooking sequence was an absolute disaster. As if protesting this treatment, the Frying Pan emitted a humming sound.

Watching this scene made Kim Cheol-su deeply nauseous.

“Urp!”

His revulsion was not caused by the absurd cooking method.

He knew the silver Frying Pan was the one used to bash in the assassins' heads, while the black one had been used for other purposes. Thus, the only part of the silver pan that was technically contaminated was the handle. Even so, the mere fact that a torture tool was being used for cooking filled him with a visceral mixture of disgust and dread.

What was worse was his mentor's expression...

He looked beyond indifferent—he looked completely bored to death.

What he was concocting with that torture device vaguely resembled fried rice. However, the ingredients were just as problematic as the tool itself.

The ration bags contained items meant to be mixed and items that absolutely were not—like main courses packaged alongside desserts. Yet his mentor was committing an act of pure visual violence by frying everything together.

Because of this, the final dish looked exactly like slop meant for a countryside mutt. If one had to name this creation, "Dog Food Fried Rice" would be fitting.

And yet, despite all of that.

‘What the hell is this maddening smell?!’

Kim Cheol-su suddenly felt the hunger he had forgotten amidst the tension. The sensation stabbed at him so sharply it felt like it was piercing his very brain. He was overcome with a feeling of sheer exhaustion, as if his entire being had been drained out of him.

It was so intoxicating it could truly be called a heavenly aroma. This beautiful scent billowed from the Frying Pan Minjun was stirring, filling the entire room.

‘The phrase "a scent that makes a monk jump over the temple wall" shouldn't be used for Buddha Jumps Over the Wall—it should be reserved for a masterpiece like this!’

Even while performing such a miracle, Minjun's expression remained utterly apathetic. Yet, because the aroma was so incredible, his half-hearted gestures and movements somehow appeared devout. Stripped of all wasted motion, he exuded the aura of a master artisan who had spent centuries doing nothing but frying dog food. Assuming, of course, that such an artisan actually existed.

‘Sir...’

Watching him, his former student felt a mixture of awe and pity.

The noble figure he had reunited with after so many years had... learned Dark Magic in the meantime. Not only had he become the sort of person who carried two Frying Pans—one for killing and one for torture—but he wielded them for their respective purposes without a shred of hesitation. To top it off, he had become an expert capable of cooking a peerless delicacy that could bewitch a person with its scent alone.

That last detail was a bit of an anomaly, but it only made Kim Cheol-su more confused.

He muttered inwardly.

‘Oh, sir... just what kind of life have you been living all this time?’

While Minjun cooked up dozens of servings of dog food fried rice, the atmosphere in the living room where the lawmakers were gathered began to shift. The murmuring voices gradually faded until the room fell completely silent.

In truth, when Minjun had asked, “You must be hungry, right?” and started cooking earlier, they had simply scoffed at him.

Those who had been dragged in early had already been fasting for over half a day. However, they had no intention of eagerly eating whatever was offered. Since they were practically kidnapped, there was no telling what might have been slipped into the food. Starving for a day or two would not kill them, so they planned to hold out until a rescue team arrived.

But as time passed, their minds were consumed by a single thought: what on earth was that man making in the kitchen?

And as even more time passed, the desperate urge to eat that food completely devoured their thoughts.

“Cheol-su.”

“Ah, yes! Sir.”

Startled by the sudden call, Kim Cheol-su snapped out of his thoughts. Minjun lazily shook the pan, speaking without even turning his head.

“Could you take a look outside for a moment? See what the situation is.”

After checking the living room, Kim Cheol-su returned, looking slightly appalled.

“Their eyes are all bloodshot... They're just glaring at the kitchen. When I walked out, twenty-nine people stared daggers at me. It scared me half to death.”

Nodding, Minjun murmured to himself once again.

‘It really is too dangerous. Its performance is dangerously high.’

They were all smelling the exact same scent, yet the reactions of Kim Cheol-su and the lawmakers were drastically different. To say nothing of Minjun's own lack of reaction.

The Frying Pan spoke in a cheerful tone.

=Most of the people out there have absolutely no Supernatural Ability, or if they do, it's incredibly weak. They practically have no resistance. The stuff will hit them extremely hard. Especially since you asked me to pump up the juice, sir. But... it seems my power doesn't affect you at all anymore, Agent? You're definitely different from when we first met.=

Only after cooking an adequate amount did Minjun finally taste it. He immediately frowned.

‘Tastes awful.’

It was only marginally better than the meals Cathy used to cook before he got the Frying Pan.

He carried the plates out, practically tossing them onto the dining table. Then, he scrutinized the lawmakers' expressions one by one.

“While the secure line is being set up, why don't you have a meal—”

The lawmakers didn't give him the chance to finish.

Watching them lunge forward ravenously, Minjun clicked his tongue.

They looked less like lawmakers and more like beggars who had starved for days. They frantically shoveled Minjun's bizarre concoction into their mouths. They emptied their bowls as if they were inhaling the food. Without leaving a single grain of rice or crumb of biscuit behind, the lawmakers licked their plates clean and stared down at the empty bottoms with deep regret.

To them, Minjun spoke calmly.

“I'll ask for your cooperation one more time.”

As they turned their heads to look at him, all the life had drained from their eyes. Their pupils were dilated, as if they were possessed.

They looked like they were high on drugs.

“Let's not blow this out of proportion. Will you trust me and help out a little?”

They did just that. The secure line, which was supposed to take a while, was readied immediately. The lawmakers contacted their respective offices and homes, reciting the exact alibis Minjun had requested.

No matter how long they had to hold out here, these people would now wait quietly without a hint of resistance. They would play their roles as bait perfectly. To manage the Third Route lawmakers—people even Jenkinson couldn't control—this was the absolute best method.

Despite handling the situation so flawlessly, Minjun felt more concern than satisfaction.

‘If that thing really is a fragment of Asiph-1, I can see why the Committee is trying so desperately to find it.’

Even the species most famous for mind control had strict limitations on their abilities. They could only properly control a target by inserting a tentacle-like tube into them. An ability that hijacked someone's mind simply by feeding them was completely unheard of.

The most terrifying part was that, no matter which of Minjun's known methods were used to inspect the food, absolutely no anomalies could be detected. It was completely clean, both in terms of Magic and science.

In other words, the chances of getting caught were abysmally low.

‘And the result...’

Minjun was currently controlling twenty-nine of the nation's lawmakers exactly as he pleased.

Though he had no idea how long the effect would last.

Minjun glanced at the Frying Pan left abandoned in the kitchen. Having been placed over the fire for an extended period, it was still basking in the afterglow. Intoxicated by a vortex of pleasure, it was continuously leaking mental waves, so he had simply tossed it aside without touching it.

‘I need to test its abilities more. I have to find out its exact limits.’

While he was engrossed in his future plans, the lawmakers finished their calls and sat obediently at the desks. They were faithfully executing Minjun's command to ‘stand by.’

How much time passed like that?

“...!”

Minjun suddenly sensed a presence. At the same time, the corners of his mouth curled up.

Someone had taken the bait and was approaching.

‘I knew it.’

Even from Blade's perspective, twenty-nine was far too large a number to hunt down and kill one by one.

After one of them had died due to the initial formal contract, the personal security details of the remaining lawmakers had been heavily beefed up. If he started picking them off sequentially in the midst of this, the others would panic, scatter, or even flee the country.

Therefore, wiping them all out at once when they were gathered together was the most efficient approach. The lawmakers knew this, too, which was exactly why they had thrown a fit at the police for herding them all into one location.

The reason Minjun had made this choice regardless was because he was completely confident he could catch Blade.

“Gotcha, you bastard.”

   *

Having hijacked the body of a former comrade assassin, Blade bypassed the police guarding the perimeter of the safe house and advanced deep inside.

Suddenly, his body flinched and froze.

“....”

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Then, a voice rang out.

“Pretty sharp, aren't you?”

Blade's eyes locked onto the man.

It was Minjun, standing squarely in front of the door, waiting for him.

Under his orders, the police had pulled far back, merely observing the situation from a distance.

“Your skills are beyond my expectations, too.”

Just moments ago, Minjun had unleashed a full arsenal of his most powerful curses onto his opponent. Yet Blade had deflected every single one of them. The agent cast his gaze toward the longsword held in the assassin's hand.

‘That's probably the main body. It looks incredibly ordinary. So much so that no one would notice it out in the open.’

And the host it's currently possessing is...

‘A Weapon Master immune to curses would be among the absolute elite on Earth. But he doesn't seem to be at that level.’

Minjun's eyes sharpened.

‘It's pushing the host's body past its physical limits. That's why the curses aren't working.’

It nullified any interference that would cause physical anomalies. A truly transcendent body.

In other words, a superhuman.

‘And as a side effect, once it uses the body up, the host is completely destroyed.’

Right then, the assassin opened his mouth.

“I have no business with you. Step aside.”

He raised his sword and pointed at the building behind Minjun.

“My targets are the twenty-nine people inside. That's all. I will not strike down anyone else.”

Since he was going to discard this body anyway, there was no need to silence anyone just because they had seen his face.

Instead of answering, Minjun summoned the shadows from behind his back.

Fwoosh!

A black trajectory launched itself at the Ego Sword.

   *

Cloaked entirely in shadows, Minjun charged forward. He took on the form of a beast, not a human. Concentrating the black outer shell into his arms, he shaped them into massive blades.

In that instant, a starlight-like aura scattered across the assassin's sword. It possessed an extraordinary intensity and density. A pure white sword aura.

The Sword and the shadows violently collided.

Boom!

“...!”

The air vibrated with a sharp hum. The two clashed, their weapons locked together. They were nearly equal in strength.

Inside the veil of darkness, Minjun narrowed his eyes. He wasn't a Weapon Master himself, but he had seen countless people with these exact abilities. His centuries of honed intuition told him the truth.

‘With this level of skill, he'd be considered top-tier even outside of Earth!’

He couldn't imagine this assassin originally possessed such immense power. It was the power of the Sword that had elevated him to this state.

Clang! Clang, clang!

A fierce close-quarters battle ensued. Blade and darkness crashed into each other over and over again. Drops of shadow and specks of light exploded outward with every strike. The surrounding police officers covered their ears from the deafening roar, a sound like thunder repeatedly striking a rocky mountain.

“My god...”

The onlookers held their breath. An unbelievable fight was unfolding before them. Their mortal eyes couldn't track how the two bodies were moving or how they were striking each other.

The only reason they could even roughly grasp their locations was the chaotic black and white afterimages streaking across the area, accompanied by the flashing of various explosions. These gave away their positions indirectly.

Rumble!

Blade, who had initially planned to deal with Minjun casually, was taken aback by the relentless assault. In response, he poured even more power and speed into his attacks. Against the swordsman, the shadow beast unleashed highly unpredictable, irregular strikes. Whenever the sword aura expanded, the darkness swallowed an even wider area, piercing past the sharp trajectory of the blade to exploit the openings behind it.

For a fleeting moment, it looked as though Blade was being pushed back.

“...!”

But, as if making a firm decision, the assassin surged the output of his sword aura.

He swung the sword with heavy, sweeping arcs.

The outer wall of shadow and the edge of the blade clashed once more. A metallic clang echoed out, exactly as it had hundreds of times before.

This time, however, the sound carried a fundamentally different resonance.

Crack!

For the first time, Minjun panicked.

A crack had formed across the flesh of the shadow monster. The pure white sword aura carved straight into the rippling mass of darkness. He had literally cut through the shadow.

This was the first time this had happened in hundreds of years.

‘This bastard!’

He immediately tried to restore the monster. But just as a massive chunk of his Dark Magic Power drained out of him—

Kyaaaah!

‘What?!’

The shadow sprayed grain-like fragments of darkness in all directions. The black outer shell scattered through the air and began to boil. The monster, which was supposed to move as an extension of his own limbs, suddenly rejected his control. The form enveloping his body was on the verge of collapsing.

Minjun, who communicated directly with the inner consciousness of his summoned beast, realized something horrifying.

‘He tampered with its mind!’

The exact moment the sword wounded the shadow, Blade's authority had taken hold.

‘He tried to brainwash it? My own summoned creature?’

It wasn't absolute control. If it were, the shadow would have attacked Minjun immediately. Instead, torn between conflicting dominances pulling from both sides, the monster spiraled into confusion.

Whoosh!

In the end, Minjun had to cancel the summon. The shadow vanished, leaving the summoner's bare body completely exposed.

Swish!

Blade did not miss this opening. Like a white meteor trailing a tail of afterimages, he lunged forward. The sword aimed straight for Minjun's throat.

At that moment.

The prisoner felt an overwhelming surge of sheer annoyance.

‘You're just a lump of metal... yet you're being such a pain in the ass!’

The agent immediately began to chant a spell. However, there was inevitably a slight delay before it activated. Just enough time for the sword to cleanly slice his neck.

First, he needed something to bat away the incoming weapon. Something that boasted enough durability to replace his restricted shadow...

“...!”

The perfect item flashed into his mind.

The prisoner still didn't fully trust his ex-wife. However, he trusted the technological prowess and the immense pride of the Endelion race.

He reached his hand into the empty air. The instant his fingers curled inward into a tight fist, a blunt weapon materialized in his grasp.

It was a Frying Pan, gleaming in resplendent silver.

In that split second, Blade registered the object. He quickly evaluated an opponent who would summon a cooking utensil in the very moment his head was about to be lopped off.

‘He's a complete lunatic whose brain has been rotted by Dark Magic.’

The assassin thrust at his throat. While finishing his chant, the prisoner brought up the wide flat surface of the Frying Pan to block the strike. Just like a shield.

Blade did not halt his thrust. He pushed forward with enough force to punch straight through that flimsy cooking tool. The razor-sharp tip of the blade concentrated into a singular, deadly point.

The moment it struck the silver-coated surface.

--------!

An earth-shattering roar enveloped the entire area, as if the world itself were collapsing.

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