There was once a man known as the worst terrorist in recorded history.
His primary objective was the complete destruction of the Talent mining system established by the Committee. His attempts were stealthy, and his methods were cunning. For a long time, the Mint Bureau remained completely unaware that they were being targeted, only perceiving his existence when it was far too late.
The Committee condemned this as a blatant act of terrorism and issued a cosmic bounty. Instead of delegating the matter to the administrative branches and law enforcement agencies of individual dimensions, the Committee took it upon themselves to track the criminal—an unprecedented first.
They had good reason to do so. Though they never announced it to the public, the high-ranking executives knew the truth: the final goal of the terrorist targeting the Mint Bureau was to return everything to absolute nothingness.
His eventual capture was nothing short of a miracle. After apprehending him, they were left horrified by his bizarre ability. There was a very good reason he had managed to evade them for so long.
He possessed the power to suppress and manipulate the minds of other intelligent beings.
*
“Let's just subject him to Soul Erasure right now!”
That was the Todds' argument.
That was Kavite's stance.
“No. What if he brainwashes the cursed denizens of the Abyss and tears open a door back to our side? We must find another way.”
Dismissing both suggestions, Endelion showed a distinct interest in the terrorist's abilities. A profound interest, in fact. It was a brainwashing power far stronger than anything possessed by any race they knew.
“Perhaps he is the key to the dilemma we have been agonizing over.”
Endelion raised a question that would become a topic of fierce debate for ages to come.
Can evil be cured?
“To manipulate a mind means you can transform someone into an entirely different being. He used his powers for wicked deeds, but if we change that direction, something miraculous will happen.”
The Committee planned to use this incident as an opportunity to cast their influence even deeper across multiple dimensions. They intended to exercise a transcendent judicial authority over other worlds.
“With his abilities, couldn't we turn the wicked into the righteous? What if we could cure them cleanly, transforming them into noble individuals who sincerely repent for their sins, break completely from their pasts, and commit acts of goodwill? I speak of every sinner in this universe. And furthermore, every intelligent being who possesses the potential to commit a crime in the future.”
It was a statement that could not have been uttered without absolute certainty in their own definition of goodness.
Endelion did not doubt for a single second that what they, the Committee, did was righteous.
A heated debate ensued, and in the end, the Ancient Races agreed to place the terrorist's custody under Endelion's management.
*
The experiments were not easy.
Endelion calculated the exact physical distance the brainwashing ability could reach. Then, assuming the worst-case scenario, they imprisoned the terrorist on an uninhabited planet and observed him from orbit. It was an excessively cautious measure, perfectly befitting Endelion. At the same time, it was a strong display of their resolve not to sacrifice even a single one of their own.
Cruel biological experiments followed.
His body was broken down to the molecular level and reassembled. His mind, too, could not escape their reach.
A long time passed.
They shared the results of their experiments with the other Ancient Races.
“We failed to replicate the ability to perfectly control an intelligent being exactly as he did.”
However, they did not walk away empty-handed.
“Instead, we discovered a way to completely seal the memories housed within the flesh and spirit of an intelligent being.”
Memory erasure was also a small branch of mind manipulation.
“As well as a method to imprint limited suggestions.”
Endelion even tested the stolen ability on its very source—the terrorist.
“Astonishingly, we confirmed that it works on him. ...Though there is the drawback of it consuming a massive amount of Talent.”
Once again, a lengthy debate raged among the Ancient Races.
The technique was undeniably attractive, but its scope of application was limited. Moreover, unlike the original possessor of the ability, the process consumed Talent, meaning they couldn't possibly use it on every intelligent being across the dimensions.
Endelion argued.
“What if we use this technique to erase the terrorist's memories, plant a suggestion in his mind, and release him?”
Analyzing his memories had revealed that he had a creator.
“He is a being explicitly designed to commit acts of terror against us from the start. Evil was planted in his mind the moment he was born, and he was built to carry it out... Should we really consider this his fault? Therefore, we should wipe his mind entirely and give him a second chance. Instead of his original purpose, we will command him to do good, to suppress the minds of the wicked and rehabilitate them...”
That statement—which Kavite blasted as ‘utter nonsense that would only be possible if you severed your own ventral nerve cords’—naturally met with fierce opposition.
“To hell with all this! Let's just subject him to Soul Erasure!”
“Rather than that, why not erase his memories and work him as a slave of the Committee for eternity?”
Ultimately, a compromise drawing from each side's argument was adopted.
“I agree with erasing his memories and having the Committee control him.”
“Never bring up such a ridiculous notion as setting him free ever again. His actions will be monitored.”
“However, after a sufficient amount of time has passed, we shall give him a chance to earn his freedom. Once enough time has passed... that we all consider it justified.”
And thus, the first prisoner directly managed by the Committee was born.
The Ancient Races wiped his memories and decided to utilize him as a mind-manipulating weapon to carry out covert missions in the shadows.
“Doesn't a tool need a name?”
The Committee bestowed the name Asif upon the terrorist.
The sinner who had committed the greatest evil.
*
Years passed.
The series of events that unfolded next baffled the Committee, striking them once again with tremendous shock and sheer terror.
“How does the Endelion faction intend to fix this mess?”
“Didn't you say his memories were completely erased? Yet... look at this disaster!”
Contrary to what Endelion had claimed, Asif's memories had not been fully erased.
Even the suggestions had failed to take root perfectly.
As a result, Asif had secretly plotted while pretending to be the Committee's loyal servant. Under that guise, he sought to recreate the very conditions that had led to his initial capture. He was attempting another massive terrorist attack against the Mint Bureau.
His methods were infinitely more cunning than before. He traveled across dimensions under the pretense of carrying out his missions, sowing seeds for the future. The Committee, despite their grand declarations of strict surveillance, had failed to notice simply because even the watchers themselves had been brainwashed.
“We have apprehended Asif!”
“There is evidence he has made contact with several races over this period. The objective appears to be the identical act of terror as before.”
“How do you plan to deal with his conspirators?”
“Committing a mass slaughter on the charge of conspiring with Asif will leave us with a nightmare to clean up. We must divide those races, then relocate them to other dimensions to sever their solidarity. We'll also need to inject a substitute labor force and throw in additional compensation to keep the dragons satisfied. It's not much different from what we've been doing all along.”
The Todds were absolutely furious.
“What did I tell you? We nearly plunged ourselves and our descendants into mortal peril!”
In the end, the arguments of Endelion and Kavite were flatly rejected this time, and Asif was subjected to Soul Erasure, just as the Todds had relentlessly demanded.
What happened next is known to every dimensional system.
Instead of being completely obliterated, his soul shattered into countless pieces, scattering far from the dimensional core as if to escape the Committee's grasp... fleeing toward the worlds commonly known as the periphery. Like a meteor shower.
Endelion placed a staggering bounty on the fragments, while Kavite mocked them for it.
However, that entire series of experiments hadn't been completely meaningless.
Looking back, the Committee had gained quite a lot.
Drawing on their experience of controlling Asif, they decided to launch the prisoner system in full force. They intended to wipe the memories of criminals deemed worthy of recycling, working them as loyal pawns of the Committee.
The second criminal to be subjected to this, the entity who would receive the identification number Asif-2, had already been chosen.
It was Asif's creator.
*
Minjun waded through the surging tides of memory.
He understood so many things now.
‘I see why they had me roaming only the peripheral dimensions.’
They had likely suspected that the only one capable of tracking down the fragments of Asiph-1 was their creator. Hence, they made him patrol the periphery, where the pieces were most likely scattered.
But there was still something he couldn't understand.
‘They couldn't wipe Asiph-1's memories properly, yet how did they manage to erase mine for so long? For over 800 long years.’
The secret probably lay in the exact moment of his capture, Minjun mused.
Though many memories were returning, the exact moment he was caught by the Committee still eluded him. What was currently flooding into his mind was closer to the memories of Asiph-1 before he was fragmented. By resonating with the shard, Minjun had awakened the memories that the pieces themselves had failed to realize.
‘And why am I Asif-666, instead of Asif-2?’
What was the gap between 2 and 666?
Asiph-1 suffered Soul Erasure and the prisoner system was established nearly a thousand years ago, yet Minjun had opened his eyes 800 years ago.
Something must have happened during those 200 intervening years.
Was Minjun fleeing from the Committee during that time? Or...
‘It's too unclear.’
Setting his speculations aside for now, Minjun decided to focus on what he had to do.
Flash!
Brilliant light bloomed from within his body once more.
The physical Talent Minjun currently possessed amounted to just over two million. It was the combined sum of what he had retrieved from Ha Eun-seong and whatever the Grand Patriarch had left after squandering some to maintain his resurrected life.
It was a massive fortune, but Minjun was far from satisfied. Naturally so. He had merely reclaimed his rightful property belatedly.
He intended to use it for his own purposes.
Minjun weighed the self-awareness of Blade and the Frying Pan. The time the former had spent awakened was vastly shorter than the latter.
Fwoosh!
Talent flared up from Minjun's hand like a brilliant flame. The moment it enveloped Blade, the spiritual entity felt as if someone was calling out to it.
The fragment offered no resistance.
Blade's soul fragment detached from the Sword. Trailing along the hand gripping the hilt, it was absorbed into Minjun's body until it brushed against the soul of its creator. Gliding right past, it settled into the Frying Pan clutched in his other hand.
The Frying Pan accepted it willingly.
Clang!
Drained of its fragment, the Sword was now as painfully ordinary as it looked.
And then.
=...!=
The Frying Pan reeled, overwhelmed by the sudden storm of memories and identity crashing into it. Even though it was only a few decades of Blade's time spent on Earth, it was far too much to process all at once.
The spiritual entity that had lived as an assassin, trying to save the world by slaughtering and cutting down people, fused with the Frying Pan.
Drowning in euphoria, it heard Minjun's voice.
“We just need to become more complete bit by bit like this. Both you and me.”
By witnessing the old memories of Asiph-1 that even the fragments hadn't realized, Minjun was able to formulate a plan for the future.
His slumbering kin. The time was approaching when their sleep would grow shallow. In preparation for that moment, Asiph-1 had left behind various contingencies, and the Ellahu-Praga Church was one of them.
They were preparing to awaken the primordial race just as the Prophet had instructed. While gathering Talent, that is.
However, Minjun had instinctively felt apprehensive about that plan until now. For some reason, he had a lingering feeling that he shouldn't follow through with it.
Now he knew the reason.
‘That plan was established under the assumption that Asiph-1 would exist in his complete state a thousand years later.’
It was a plan meant to be executed only after he had survived a thousand years of humiliation, pretending to be a slave and playing the role of a prisoner... until he finally reached this present era.
‘He probably intended to become the high priest himself and awaken us. But contrary to the order's belief, the Prophet will not return when that day comes. So the plan is doomed to fail. If things stay as they are.’
Right now, Asiph-1 was incomplete.
The tool Minjun had forged to awaken his kin was still severely lacking.
He pondered. He needed more fragments, and he needed more Talent. A whole lot more.
He spoke to his possession.
“You can change your shape, right?”
=...You knew?=
Strictly speaking, he only knew it now.
The Frying Pan used to subtly expand its body to match the size of the ingredients whenever Cathy used it. But it hid this fact so the user wouldn't notice, trying to lessen any revulsion.
“Do it.”
Before Minjun made his move in earnest, he had one ‘minor issue’ to take care of.
He had seen not only the ancient memories of Asiph-1 but also Blade's memories that had brushed against his soul, and he knew there was one small incident left for him to intervene in.
For that, the Frying Pan's current form was unsuitable.
He spat out a single short word.
“Sword.”
The creation complied. The Frying Pan rippled its Darklight Iron body, altering its shape. The metal sloshed like liquid, rapidly restructuring itself in the blink of an eye. Leaving the handle exactly as it was, it transformed everything above the neck into the sleek blade of a longsword.
But Minjun was not satisfied.
“Shorter.”
The Frying Pan shrank its chassis as ordered. In the very next moment, a Black Dagger rested in Minjun's hand. It was almost exactly the same size as his ritual dagger.
Keeping it as it was, Minjun glared into the empty air.
Right after.
Swoosh!
Minjun vanished from the spot.
*
Choi Panseok desperately tried to soothe his trembling adoptive daughter.
But his pale, terrified daughter couldn't even form a coherent sentence.
“What on earth is wrong, Seon-a?!”
After a brief, chaotic back-and-forth, his daughter barely managed to gather her wits and screamed.
It was a voice akin to a shriek.
“Run away!”
Her tone was so utterly desperate and urgent that Choi Panseok felt goosebumps erupt all over his body.
“Where? Why?!”
He couldn't just brush off the words of a precognitive. What mattered most was the direction and the reason.
Choi Seona muttered deliriously, her eyes half-rolled back in her head. It was a reaction he had never seen before. Whatever she had witnessed in her precognition, she seemed to be experiencing a crushing, bone-breaking terror.
“He's coming... He's coming... That man is coming!”
Right at that moment.
A voice rang out from the corner of the hospital room, a space previously occupied only by the father and daughter.
“I see. It truly is an ability worth coveting.”
Frozen like ice, Choi Panseok slowly turned around. Standing there was a man who absolutely should not have been here.
“...!”
Cold sweat streamed down his face. The door was definitely closed. There were no dazzling magic circles or flashes of light that typically accompanied a Teleport spell, nor had there been any reaction from the spatial interference artifacts the Immigration Office had installed throughout the room.
The barrier and defenses crafted by Korea's greatest experts to prevent a sudden intrusion—an agent who had nullified all of them in an instant was now staring at him with a placid expression.
“A-Agent?”
The assemblyman struggled to feign a calm tone, putting on an act.
“What brings you all the way here?”
Minjun spoke with an inorganic, lifeless gaze. Gripping a dagger in one hand.
“I have something to give you.”
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