The Foreigner on the Periphery

Minjun fell silent for a moment after reading the letter.

"Minjun?"

Jenkinson's voice broke in his ear. Minjun was shocked; the Dragon Lord had figured out far more than he'd expected.

'You had already realized the secret and were agonizing over it all alone.'

Minjun couldn't fathom the depths of the agony and isolation the Dragon Lord must have endured.

Some types of anguish turned a person's mind into hell. Outwardly, there was no gruesome bloodshed or roaring fire, but beneath a single layer of skin, or a single scale, it was closed-room torture.

At the same time, Minjun respected the Dragon Lord's courage.

It must have been a mind-numbing terror. He hadn't turned away from it, nor had he shared the burden with his kin to lighten his load. Instead, he sought what he could do. He had dedicated and sacrificed a vast portion of his life. It was partly for himself, but a deeper look revealed profoundly altruistic motives. Very un-dragon-like. Truly, un-dragon-like.

"..."

It made sense. He had never imagined a situation like this.

He didn't know what to make of it.

When an animal you had once treated as livestock and eaten suddenly gained sapience and sent a letter arguing that it shouldn't be eaten, exactly what were you supposed to feel?

Minjun felt the time was approaching to face the dilemma he had been putting off.

'If my revenge is realized. When the day comes that all this is over.'

When his kin awakened, and everything returned to its rightful place.

'What are we supposed to do with the dragons?'

If eating them or not eating them could be relegated to a matter of choice, of mere preference, things would be different.

But Minjun's memories and his very senses were telling him otherwise. This was absolutely not a matter of preference. Minjun swallowed dryly.

His throat stung, aching as if it were tearing apart.

"Minjun?"

Jenkinson called out to him again. Minjun turned his head and met the Ancient Dragon's eyes. Despite Jenkinson being in a Polymorphed state, Minjun felt the gaze of his true form within those pupils. His present vision and his memories blurred together.

The clear eyes of a dragon.

He asked himself.

'Can I eat Jenkinson?'

It was a worthless question. He couldn't.

'Why?'

Because Jenkinson was his friend.

'Then, can I eat a dragon who isn't my friend?'

Was it truly just to base the standard of which dragons were edible and which were not on his own feelings?

A dragon was a dragon. Was it right that their life or death, and their opportunity to achieve dignity, hinged on Minjun's attachment? Was it right that some dragons lived because they had Minjun's attention, while others were eaten because they did not?

Minjun didn't know.

And so, he made a decision.

If he hadn't read the Dragon Lord's letter, his mind wouldn't have been set. That plea, borrowing "human language," had moved Minjun. The letter offered only one rationale for not eating them. The Dragon Lord was appealing to his emotions. The terror he had faced when he realized dragons could become food. That prideful dragon had laid his fear bare without hiding it, pleading with him. He had forcefully argued the reasons why dragons shouldn't be eaten.

'At the very least, I need to look for a way.'

He might find a clue if he recovered more of his memories.

Unlike when the primordial race fell asleep, the dragons had already regained their sapience.

And reading the letter, Minjun saw a certain possibility in the Dragon Lord. It was the same kind of possibility he felt from Jenkinson.

Therefore, Minjun set a principle for how he would act when that moment in the distant future finally arrived.

He would search.

For a way to not have to eat dragons.

   *

The orc asked.

"How is it, has the future you saw today changed at all?"

The prophet replied.

"Nothing has changed. I still see the same scene."

   *

The Kavite, Gadwick, was suffering from a workload that hadn't decreased at all even after his promotion.

He was reviewing a report delivered by his new adjutant. It concerned Dimension #33-790. The report detailed an escalating conflict between the three herbivorous species and the single carnivorous species coexisting in that dimension.

"Turn the page."

The carnivores were outnumbered. The herbivores dismissed the act of eating animals as barbaric, despising and discriminating against them. Even though the carnivorous species didn't eat sapient beings—only beasts equivalent to Earth's cows or pigs—the herbivores felt a profound disgust toward their dietary habits.

As a result, the carnivores were treated as second-class citizens in every nation and suffered blatant wage gaps, but they consistently elected politicians to represent their voices and protect their rights. The social balance was precariously maintained.

Recently, however, the situation had shifted drastically.

"Lynchings against the Ketmas species... that is, the meat-eating race, are increasing."

It was a prejudice that herbivores were weaker than carnivores.

"Open murders are occurring, and their homes are being burned down. Yet the media isn't reporting a single word of it."

"Ridiculous. Killing to eat is unacceptable, but killing and not eating is justified?"

"The extremist herbivore groups argue that by killing them, they are saving the lives of even more animals."

The politicians representing the carnivores had been caught up in conspiracies, ousted, or imprisoned. Now, they had lost all hope of holding out in their homeland. In the end, they were searching for a dimension to seek asylum in as a last resort, and the Committee intended to do its utmost to meet that demand.

"They've finally contacted us."

"Yes, they're hoping to migrate as quickly as possible."

Of course, the inhabitants of that dimension would never know. They would never discover that if one traced back the route of support provided to the extremist groups committing violence against the carnivores, it led straight to the Committee.

The carnivorous species and the political groups they elected had anti-Committee leanings, and they weren't about to change their minds easily. Perhaps they instinctively sensed something. Species with such remarkably sharp intuition cropped up from time to time.

Regardless of the reason, Gadwick knew the time-honored method for handling groups hostile to the Committee. Fragment them and scatter them. Sever their solidarity and dilute their identity as a collective.

Under the pretext of practical constraints, they would not all be relocated to a single dimension. The migration would proceed in stages over time, and their destinations would be split across multiple locations.

In a reality where the simple method of ethnic cleansing wasn't an option, it was the most useful card to play.

"So, what are the candidate sites for their relocation?"

"Right here."

The adjutant swiped through a string of text floating in midair. Gadwick stared at the subsequent list of dimensions and spoke in a displeased tone.

"Hold on. Why is Dimension #93-111 on here?"

The adjutant faltered, unable to answer. The Kavite missed Dotes, whom he had dispatched to Earth.

"What's the species breakdown of the natives in that dimension?"

The adjutant stammered a reply. The Kavite grew even more irritated with his subordinate for missing the point. He hadn't asked because he didn't know. Some questions didn't demand an answer; they demanded self-reflection.

"Do you not see the problem?"

"..."

The Kavite barked.

"There are no humans! No humans!"

"Pardon?!"

"Search your memory carefully. When we arrange large-scale mass migrations, what is the species composition of the dimensions that become their new homes?"

"Ah!"

The adjutant belatedly understood.

"But it wasn't explicitly stated in the manual..."

"Even if it's not in the manual, there's a reason why everyone does it that way. Recompile the list of candidates."

"Yes, understood."

Once the dejected adjutant scurried off, the Kavite made a gesture equivalent to a human heaving a deep sigh.

It was then.

"Incredible timing."

A message arrived from the former subordinate he had just been missing.

Gadwick had dispatched Dotes to Earth. Ostensibly, it was to assist the Princess of Endelion, who had taken over as the new station manager there. But Gadwick had also assigned him a secret mission. He felt the need to plant one of his own people by her side.

Scanning the contents, Gadwick muttered in a grave tone.

"I need to report this immediately."

He immediately requested a face-to-face meeting with his direct superior, a Grand Committeeman of his own race. It was swiftly accepted.

"I have an urgent matter to discuss. It's news from Earth."

A moment later, Gadwick stood before the Kavite Grand Committeeman.

"What is it, Gadwick?"

"The Princess of Endelion is acting suspiciously."

Gadwick relayed Dotes's observations exactly to the Grand Committeeman.

Earth's Dragon Lord had died, and the Princess of Endelion had stepped up as his corpse custodian, involving herself quite deeply. Earth's dragons couldn't tell the difference, but it wasn't an official duty as a Committee administrator; she was intervening in a personal capacity. She hadn't even reported it up the chain of command.

Hearing this, the Grand Committeeman produced a reaction similar to clicking his tongue.

"...She's doing something useless."

Gadwick found it odd; the tone felt uncharacteristically biting.

"What did the Princess of Endelion officially report?"

Although her activities as the corpse custodian were a personal matter, she still had to submit reports to her superiors as the administrator in charge of Earth.

The Kavite pulled the report into the air. It detailed the movements on Earth following the Dragon Lord's death. There, the Grand Committeeman also verified the information regarding Asif-666, who had become the target of an intensive tax audit. It was written in dry, factual sentences that didn't stray from the common knowledge all of Earth's dragons shared.

"The dead dragon left an inheritance for Asif-666 as well?"

"So it says."

"And the dragon with the highest probability of becoming the next Dragon Lord is..."

"The Fire Dragon using the name Jenkinson on Earth."

The Princess of Endelion's analysis on that point was quite credible. The Grand Committeeman carefully read through Jenkinson's profile and past movements, then suddenly asked a question.

"By any chance, have we secured any of that dragon's blood?"

Gadwick was a bit flustered by the abrupt question, but immediately checked the data before answering.

"No. But... instead, we might be able to obtain the blood of the previous Dragon Lord who recently died. If we contact the Princess of Endelion..."

"No, don't contact her. We don't need any more of that dragon's blood anyway."

Gadwick understood the implied meaning behind those words.

Saying it was no longer needed meant they had already acquired it.

The Committee was collecting dragon blood for research purposes to keep them in check as hypothetical enemies. But Gadwick knew that the Kavites were skimming a portion of it to use for other purposes. Naturally, he could never breathe a word of this to the Endelion or any other species.

Even if he wanted to leak the information, he couldn't. He knew his race's higher-ups were doing it, but he had no idea why.

"May I ask you something?"

When he voiced his long-standing doubt, the Grand Committeeman didn't hesitate to give him a straightforward answer.

"Are you asking what we do with that blood?"

He let out a clicking chuckle.

"Now that you've been promoted, I believe you're mentally prepared to clearly separate yourself as a member of the Committee from yourself as a member of our race. What do you say?"

He was asking if Gadwick was ready to look deeper into their racial secrets—secrets that must never be revealed to the other species comprising the Committee.

The Kavite answered with conviction.

"Of course, I am ready."

The Grand Committeeman spoke as if satisfied.

"Excellent. Because I have a task for you now, and this isn't an order as a Grand Committeeman, but as one of the early awakened of the Kavite race. And to execute it properly, there's something you need to know first."

He projected an image into the air.

"Look here."

Gadwick turned his head. The image created by the Grand Committeeman showed the center of the dimensional system, the location corresponding to its deepest core.

"Ah, this is!"

The Kavite let out a gasp of awe. Then, in a trembling voice, he spoke.

"It's so... beautiful."

A rift had formed in the middle of black outer space. From there, the most beautiful light in the universe undulated and poured out. Before it could scatter and evaporate, a Magic Tool prepared by the Mint Bureau gathered it. It was the equipment colloquially known as a Mining Machine.

The Kavite could barely tear his eyes away from the brilliant flashes of light.

Talent.

"Yes, it is beautiful. Beautiful, and at the same time... incredibly precious."

The Grand Committeeman voiced the reason Gadwick already knew.

"Because it is the beautiful blood that guarantees us a life akin to eternal life."

He casually added.

"It's fortunate we got our hands on it. Wouldn't it be far too much of a waste for a superior race like ours to live a shorter life than the Dragon Race, only to simply die?"

However, that was ultimately just a life akin to eternal life; it wasn't true eternal life. And the process entailed no small amount of sacrifice.

"But we know of those who enjoy true eternal life."

Gadwick agreed.

"The primordial race..."

"What I am about to tell you must absolutely never be leaked to any race other than the Kavites."

"Understood."

"Gadwick, have you ever thought about it? What do you suppose the secret to their true eternal life is? Things like perpetual motion machines cannot exist. Just as there's a limit to eternal life utilizing Talent, a machine requires fuel to be constantly poured into it. If so, what is the fuel that grants the primordial race an inexhaustible life?"

The Kavite couldn't answer. He searched his mind, but nothing came to him.

His superior gave him the answer.

"That is why we paid close attention to exactly what it was they ate to live."

The Grand Committeeman laughed.

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