The Foreigner on the Periphery

"Candidate? We've arrived."

"..."

"Candidate?"

"Ah, my apologies."

Jeongpal barely managed to tear his eyes away from his phone.

He had been messaging Cathy. Minjun, the man they both trusted and followed, had suddenly vanished without a trace. Cathy had explained the situation after meeting with the chairman's secretary, but much of it still made no sense.

What in the world could have happened to Minjun? This was a man who, with only slight exaggeration, seemed capable of surviving a fight with a dragon. Worry made it impossible to focus on the task at hand.

"Candidate, this way."

He felt this was no time to be distracted, yet this was exactly what he needed to be doing.

"Let's go."

The orc slipped on a fluorescent windbreaker stamped with the number 1 on the back and stepped out of the car.

"Please welcome him with a loud round of applause. It's Candidate Park Jeongpal!"

Applause poured through the doors. It carried a heavy, unusual resonance—a sound far beyond what species like humans or elves could produce, yet distinct from the booming roar of trolls.

"Thank you, it's nice to meet you!"

His voice was strong and earnest as he returned the greeting.

'I'm getting better at this the more I do it.'

It hadn't been that long since he threw his resignation letter at the pale face of the police chief, yet he marveled at how quickly he had adapted. He kept his smile firmly in place, meeting their eyes one by one.

As expected, the crowd consisted entirely of orcs. His ruling party considered the human voters in this district a lost cause. The opposition's candidate, a half-orc with a background as a human rights lawyer, was guaranteed to sweep the human vote. They had no other choice.

As the campaign pressed on, Jeongpal couldn't shake the suspicion that this entire election was less about policy and vision, and more of a game decided entirely by species.

Was it truly impossible to overcome the limits of species—to stop basing every crucial choice on race, and drawing an absolute line between "us" and "them"?

'Even a dog would laugh at that.'

It was a complete contradiction.

Hadn't he received the party nomination simply because he was an orc?

Aside from receiving his pension early, he figured it was the only time his species had ever worked to his advantage.

"Thank you for taking the time to be here. What I want to discuss today is..."

The brief speech ended, opening the floor to a Q&A. A few policy questions trickled in, but most voters simply wanted to vent their feelings about how 'shitty' it was to live in this country as an orc. They spoke to Jeongpal less like a National Assembly candidate and more like a neighborhood uncle. It was a result of the informal solidarity unique to orcs.

"Whenever I get into keyboard battles with humans online, this is where I always lose ground..."

A young orc with acne scars complained.

"Earth belonged to the humans first. That's a fact, right? And when the elves immigrated, the humans negotiated well and struck a deal where they wouldn't lose out."

The atmospheric mana density rose to its current level, and a massive, Magic-driven industrial revolution began during the 1st Mass Immigration when they accepted the elves.

"But those little dicks... ah, sorry. The humans say that... during the second wave, when the orcs came, there was no big deal like that. They insist the humans got scammed. That orcs don't do jack shit to help this world and are completely useless. That humans can handle all the physical labor themselves. So we should be kicked back to our original world."

Unable to contain his anger, he huffed. He said he never knew what logic to use to shoot back at times like this.

Jeongpal answered carefully.

"That is incorrect. The immigration was negotiated and decided by the governments representing the people of Earth at the time. They are the ancestors of the humans living today, and no descendant is free from historical responsibility. Furthermore, when they inherit the legacy of a nation, they cannot selectively discard only the parts they do not want. The Second Mass Migration is the result of the humans' choice. Living together is an obligation based on that choice, and a way of fulfilling their responsibility as members of society. In fact, humans at the time were very thirsty for the second immigration and actively demanded it."

Even though they were very flustered once they realized the species was orcs.

"We are not a penalty. Whether through democracy or socialism, the representatives to whom humans delegated power in their own ways made the choice. Orcs are not a means to penalize humans, nor are we a component of a fraudulent contract. We are their neighbors. We are people."

"...If it wasn't a fraudulent contract, what did the humans get?"

Jeongpal hesitated for a moment. This was territory not covered in textbooks or the media.

He decided to just give a vague answer.

"Many people overlook this, but during the second wave, humans secured very diverse forms of aid. The problem is that value judgments on whether it was enough of a 'big deal' are often distorted."

"Right..."

The young orc thought about it. Jeongpal's answer was the standard truth, but it would be hard to use in the cold-hearted internet world. He concluded it would be better to stick to what he had been doing—anatomically insulting the anonymous opponents' parents and turning wild guesses about their professions into profanity—and stood up.

Jeongpal watched the young man's back and thought.

'What the humans got? There certainly was... a big deal.'

He had worked as a police officer for decades and had seen with his own two eyes the open secret passed around like an urban legend among civil servants.

At the time the second migration took place, the high-ranking politicians in Korea who made the decision were mostly elderly.

And yet, not a single death certificate has been filed for any of them.

Decades have passed, yet not a single death has been officially confirmed.

He thought about it. That was probably one of the gifts the Committee had prepared. In order to send the orcs to Earth.

But Jeongpal could never utter this fact aloud.

"Excuse me, Candidate."

An aide approached, holding a phone. Jeongpal twitched his eyebrows in question. Now?

"They said it's a really urgent matter."

He checked the caller. Cathy. Jeongpal asked for their understanding and moved to a place with no people.

"What's going on?"

—Uncle, have you heard from Eun-seong by any chance?

"No? Why all of a sudden?"

They had eaten together enough times to grow somewhat close, but he didn't know the ghost's deep backstory. He had only heard that he had some debt to Minjun.

He had only clicked his tongue at Minjun's thoroughness—how on earth do you put a dead person in debt and diligently collect on it?—but he had never thought deeply about it.

'Ah, hold on a second.'

Come to think of it...

Ha Eun-seong had said he was only sticking by Minjun's side to pay off his debt.

And now that Minjun had disappeared.

'Did that punk actually...?'

Cathy spoke over the receiver.

—Chairman Jenkinson's side was trying to move his residence, but they say they haven't been able to reach him all day.

   *

Lying in the forest as night fell, he recalled the past.

His recollections were mostly about his master.

Now he was the only person living on this planet, but once there were two of them. For a long time before she passed away, just the two of them ran the dragon ranch. They were the only ones each other had to wake up and see faces with, to eat together with, and to share even brief conversations with.

From the very moment his master chose him, she was the most important person in this universe. It seemed impossible for a greater person than her to exist, and in reality, that was the case.

Yet she, who seemed like she could not become any more important to him, increased in mass and weight within his mind as time went on, until she finally became a presence that could not be exchanged for anything else.

Recalling his master, he felt a deep mourning and regret for the first time in a long while.

Her death was an unbelievable tragedy. If his master had been born a little later, many things would have been different. He believed that true eternal life would become reality within his lifetime. She only needed to stay alive until then.

But she...

"Grrrrm!"

Having filled its belly, Adkiel blew a long snort of joy, then approached and curled up beside its master. When the beast lightly placed the tip of its wing on the back of his hand, he responded by stroking the base of its wing. Relaxing in the warmth of the brazier and its master's touch, the dragon began to snore, barely audibly.

Naturally, the beast was the spitting image of its distant ancestor. The first special gold dragon he had ever seen, in other words, the guide dragon, was the one his master had raised.

He searched his memory. The name was probably Elucid.

Following tradition, his master had given her companion a human name instead of an identification number consisting of digits.

—It is tradition to name them after the most precious person to you. Because they are indispensable, valuable friends on the ranch.

He asked her when she said that, what kind of person the original owner of the name Elucid was. But she, who had answered any question deliberately, carefully, and enthusiastically, remained completely silent that one time.

Instead, she simply gazed at her dragon, Elucid. In her gaze back then, he felt a deep emotion she had never once shown to him. Seeing it, an unidentifiable something swelled in his stomach.

Oh, how she had grieved when Elucid died.

Although dragon lifespans were much shorter back then, when the dragon, who could have lived for several more decades, was found coldly stiff and foaming blood at the mouth, she froze like an ice statue.

But she did not simply collapse. Like a true master, she tried to use the accident as a stepping stone. Thanks to that, after a long period of research, the improved dragons gained bodies that would not be poisoned even if they swallowed venomous amphibians whole. Just like Adkiel now.

"Grrr! Purrr!"

The forest sang, using the dragon's snoring as an accompaniment. Even in the middle of the night, this place never had a moment of silence. Traces of the beasts who made this time of day their home echoed from everywhere. The gaps created when their cries occasionally stopped were filled by the ensemble of the wind, branches, and leaves. The melody sounded like a lullaby for the gold dragon, or like a requiem for his master buried nearby.

His thoughts spun round and round, returning to her again.

Her suspended aging rushed in all at once right before her death. From then on, the two of them spent time ruminating on various pieces of knowledge and maxims. Thanks to that, when he recalled his master's teachings now, hearing an old woman's voice first was an unexpected side effect.

Her requests were not strictly limited to matters about dragons.

—You must learn how to let go of what you hold in your hands. You never try to give up on something once you grasp it. Sometimes you must know how to open your fist and let it flow away... that is how everything naturally unravels.

It was advice he found hard to readily agree with.

Before meeting her, he had nothing he could call his own. Everything was provided for communal use, and had to be used communally. It was only after he set out following his master that he acquired things of his own.

Once he learned the concepts of monopoly and possession, he never wanted to lose anything. No matter what the object was.

—You are having complicated thoughts right now, aren't you? You must be making complicated plans. I cannot imagine what they are, but I beg you. Do not do it.

Facing death, she implored him with a weakened voice. He, who was conducting various studies related to life force to extend her lifespan 'even by force', ultimately had no choice but to give up.

Thus, he stayed by her side for her final moments. Up to that point, it could be said that he had followed her dying wishes.

However, he ultimately ended up committing a sin.

He could not let his master go. He absolutely could not do it.

And since she was already dead, there was no way for her to stop him.

"...!"

In an instant, his recollection was cut off.

His eyes turned fierce. The sleeping dragon flashed its eyes open, assumed a stance, and raised its claws and scales. After that, no sound could be heard.

The forest was silent.

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