The Foreigner on the Periphery

Even after the story ended, Jenkinson remained in a state of shock for a long while.

He stood in a half-broken slump before slowly raising a hand. He moved to cover his mouth but froze. Leaving his hand hovering in the air, looking as if he had no idea what to do with it, he muttered,

"Lord..."

Minjun watched as the dragon's eyes slowly grew red.

"My god, Lord. You..."

Plenty of dragons were mourning the Lord's death.

But a dragon shedding tears for one who was essentially a total stranger?

Minjun searched his memories but couldn't think of a single instance.

As if rebelling against him, his mind unexpectedly brought up Adkiel. Even when a familiar friend had been devoured by a monster and torn to shreds, the guide dragon hadn't grieved in the slightest. It merely took a sniff, realized the Dragon Heart was missing, and lost all interest.

"A lot of things make sense now. He was trying to protect his own corpse. To keep it from falling into the hands of the Ancient Race."

That was why the Dragon Lord had endured the brain-scorching agony to undo his Polymorph.

"Exactly, Jenkinson. All the dragons gathered in Hong Kong witnessed the ICC Building collapse. They saw the exact moment the Lord crushed the structure. With so many eyes on them, those bastards couldn't possibly steal his body. Escaping undetected was the best they could do."

Minjun continued.

"The reason they targeted Inais of all people turned out to be simple as well. They'd been keeping an eye on her from the start, intending to use her as a hostage if things went wrong. But even after the Lord died, they didn't withdraw from the Amazon."

"Why?"

"It seems they figured stealing his bloodline's egg was the next best thing. They wanted to hatch it in a controlled environment and study..."

"Those crazy sons of bitches!"

A stream of unspeakable curses poured from the dragon's mouth for a long while.

It was the first time in centuries that Minjun had heard his friend use such foul language.

He waited a moment before speaking again.

"But they ultimately abandoned that plan. Looking at the deceased's other offspring, they probably realized it was pointless. However, staying close to Inais ended up being a stroke of luck—not for the Todds as a race, but for them as members of the Committee. They managed to intercept communications and get the full picture of the tax evasion scheme."

Had they tried that near Minjun, they would have been caught, but doing it around Inais's Lair made it possible. In the end, having failed their race's secret mission, they decided to focus on their Committee duties.

Proving Asif-666's tax evasion.

And as for why they brutally tortured Inais in the deep jungle, roasting her alive...

"I think it was a form of desecrating the dead. Emotional venting. Even knowing the Lord was already dead, they wanted to express their rage and hatred by gruesomely murdering the lover and child of the dragon who had thwarted them at the very end."

"I'll deep-fry those bastards in shit!"

Jenkinson roared, huffing with fury.

"I understand! We have to share this with everyone. But we need proof. We need evidence to convince the dragons!"

"The proof is already right in front of you."

"What?"

Did Minjun plan to testify before them himself? In this situation, that was far too dangerous.

Or...

"I see."

Jenkinson realized it a beat late.

There were entities here that he couldn't see, but Minjun could.

=Ah, it hurts... it hurts...=

=You promised! So please, at least me... I don't care what happens to the rest. Just set me free.=

=No, me! Not the others, me...! It hurts. It hurts so much. Please... send me where I belong. Set me free. Let me pass on!=

=I hate this. I resent this. I can't bear it.=

=Ah... ah... aaaaagh!=

Minjun thought it was fortunate for Jenkinson that he couldn't see the chaotic pandemonium unfolding right behind him.

Being murdered was more than enough to meet the conditions for a gruesome death.

Furthermore, when Minjun exterminated the Todds, his methods had been horrific by any race's standards. As a result, the resulting wraiths were now swirling above his shoulders.

Their hard shells were half torn off, their bellies sliced open with innards spilling out, and their heads smashed with eyeballs dangling. Their stubby fingers and webbed feet had been crushed into a thick fleshy pulp, their bodies half-burned and half-mangled. They shrieked, biting at each other in a desperate frenzy.

Tangled together, their spiritual bodies burned like flames.

=Send me away, please!=

Among them was a spirit incredibly lucky enough to almost be summoned straight to the spirit realm without turning into a wraith.

But Minjun hadn't let even that one escape. It was something he would have considered impossible just days ago, but by binding it without hesitation, the soul had turned straight into a wraith.

He wasn't surprised. It was something he had already done in the distant past.

"These guys will testify."

Jenkinson stayed silent for a moment before speaking.

"It would be better to gather all the dragons together, right? How long can you hold onto the wraiths? I remember you couldn't even last an hour in the past."

"Time isn't an issue anymore."

‘So much has truly changed.’

Swallowing a groan, the dragon said,

"I'm ashamed to even say this, but there will be claims that we can't help a prison escapee just because the Ancient Race killed the Lord."

"I told you. This is no longer an issue of a few dragons; it's a matter of the entire Dragon Race's safety. No dragon is exempt from this."

The Ancient Race were the enemies of dragons anyway, and among them, the Kavites and Todds had crossed into extremely dangerous territory.

The only crucial difference was that while they hadn't secured any Kavite prisoners yet, they had captured Todds. Thus, they could be used as the driving force to mobilize the dragons.

Minjun recited the most critical piece of information he had salvaged from the Todds' memories.

"Those turtle bastards have a rough idea of the Kavites' plans. The virus infecting dragons, messing with dragon souls, attempts to mix them with other races. All of this points to a scheme to 'weaken' the dragons in some way and 'modify' them to their liking."

"Yes. The Lord thought the same, and I agree."

"They plan to steal the Kavites' research results no matter what. The secrets of the dragon species. They targeted the Dragon Lord because they believed he was the key, and their ultimate goal is..."

Minjun paused to choose his words.

"You know, right? If the Kavites despise dragons, the Todds outright hate them."

Having fought dragons on the front lines, the Todds had experienced the most battles and suffered the heaviest casualties. The hatred ingrained in them through that process was incomparable to any other race. Their relentless fury, even fiercer than that of the defeated Dragon Race, could well be considered a racial trait.

"They intend to use the Kavites' plan to their advantage. After subduing the dragons and usurping everything they once had..."

If the Kavites believed they could use dragons as tools...

"...Ultimately, they're trying to drive dragons to extinction."

The Todds believed the world no longer needed dragons.

   *

"Is anyone there? Are you still there?"

The chained Lightning Dragon asked nervously, looking toward the glass wall. He couldn't see out, but those outside could see him.

Soon, just as the dragon suspected, someone answered.

"Yeah, what is it now?"

An apathetic voice.

He was Asif-26,188,280, William Evans.

Having received an unexpected assignment upon arriving on Earth, the prisoner was currently guarding the criminal stranded at the Terminal.

"Can I ask you something?"

The dragon spoke, struggling to turn his chained neck.

William could have easily ignored him. But he happened to be bored. Plus, even though the guy was a crazed criminal, he was the first 'real Earthling' William had encountered, which sparked his curiosity.

‘The Hong Kong Terminal terrorist, right? Crazy bastard.’

He genuinely wondered why the dragon had done such a thing.

Without revealing any emotion, he tossed a reply.

"What is it?"

"You're a prisoner, aren't you?"

There was no reason to hide it at this point. He confirmed it with silence.

"I have one thing I'm curious about regarding you guys."

William expected some cliché question, but then:

"Do you like your current body?"

‘Oh, quite a refreshing question.’

Even among the tiny fraction of civilians who knew his identity in the past, no one had ever asked that. William rolled his eyes for a moment before answering.

"It's not like I dislike it. But I do think about wanting to experience the bodies of other races too."

Like a troll, for example. Or, though impossible, a 'dragon.'

"This voice. You're human."

"My current body is, at least."

"Since you said you haven't experienced other bodies, you must have only used human flesh until now."

"Well, yeah."

"But you're saying it's bearable?"

"Rather than bearing it, it's more like there's no inherent revulsion I have to tolerate in the first place."

The dragon's expression changed drastically.

"...?!"

William didn't have much experience dealing with dragons. He'd had a mission to track down a dragon criminal in his very first assigned dimension, but he was excluded because the team was built around senior prisoners. He missed out on contributing to that legendary scene where they allegedly poured sulfuric acid over the dragon's soft skin right after it had molted.

Regardless, reading a dragon's facial expressions wasn't easy for him.

And yet.

‘He's absolutely thrilled right now, isn't he?’

There was no room for misunderstanding.

That dragon, who went by the name Leo on Earth, was overjoyed.

His voice dripped with excitement and anticipation.

"I see. If it's not unbearable and not intolerable, then that's enough. Prisoners are quite happy."

What? No, wait. What?

He was so dumbfounded that he let out a choked gasp, which seemingly went straight through the microphone.

"Am I wrong?"

"Crazy bastard, what kind of bullshit is that?"

"That's a happy life. To me. By my standards."

"No, even so."

"How about you? I've looked into it a bit—though there are too many secrets in that area, so believe it or not—but there's a rumor that not a single prisoner has ever committed suicide. Is that true?"

William searched his memories.

Surely, there must have been at least one.

‘Huh?’

No.

There were none?

At least, not among any of the cases he knew about. Even though prisoners who died in tragic accidents were overflowing, he couldn't find a single one who had taken their own life during their custody period.

‘Actually, there were people who did it after regaining their freedom.’

William remembered a colleague from his first deployment. Known by the moniker 'Mother to All' and beloved by the republic's citizens, she had committed suicide the moment she won back her freedom.

Her weeping still lingered in his ears.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The Committee kept its mouth shut, but those who had been her comrades could guess the truth.

However, none of them could fathom exactly how she had felt.

What kind of emotion would one feel upon realizing that they themselves were the very one who had plunged the people they spent three hundred years of imprisonment trying to save into that gruesome hell in the first place?

"Of course, I admit 'happy' was an exaggeration. It's absurd. Still, it's better than this. Besides, even non-prisoners aren't happy all the time, right? Life is just a pit of misery anyway, and we endure by basking in the occasional rays of sunlight. That's enough for me."

William felt like he should get angry, or perhaps offer some kind of rebuttal.

But looking back at himself...

‘Well, whatever. I'm just paying for my sins. It's not like I'm going crazy wanting to quit this gig immediately.’

Had there ever been a time he hated working?

The more he worked, the closer he got to freedom. He was paying off his karma through labor.

"Still, it's not something to volunteer for. I completely fail to understand you."

"I've heard that mental issues crop up as time goes by. But that would only happen after hundreds of years at least, right? I haven't even lived a hundred years yet and I'm already like this. So it's bound to be better than my current state. As long as I'm not a dragon."

He murmured quietly to himself.

As long as he wasn't a dragon.

"Speaking of which, how many hundreds of years did that prisoner who broke out this time actually endure? Do you happen to know?"

Leo asked without much expectation.

But...

"He had passed the 700-year mark back then, so he must have broken past 800 years by now."

"Don't tell me you've actually met him?"

They had worked together in Ashtal and had even exchanged letters recently. William had informed him about his Earth assignment a few months ago. He had expressed hopes of receiving a troll body this time and grumbled about why they didn't give prisoners dragon bodies.

Up until then, he never could have anticipated a situation like this unfolding.

"We used to work together. Back then, he went by the name Cain."

"I see."

"He used a weird name here, though. Let's see... Right, 'Ye Minjun'."

At that exact moment.

"What? Excuse me?!"

Watching the dragon's face change in an instant, Prisoner William muttered.

He had absolutely no idea what kind of expression that was.

   *

Waiting for someone in the darkness, Minjun replayed the conversation.

‘Minjun, there are still a few lingering questions. Looking at the will, it seems the Lord placed immense significance on his own heart. But is it truly a weapon capable of shifting the tide in the war against the Committee?’

‘There's another remaining mystery. This unidentifiable Cube he left for me.’

‘And if he considered the Ancient Race his enemy, what was his intention in appointing Endelion as the corpse custodian?’

Whoosh!

In the meantime, a single spiritual body could be seen flying over from afar.

Watching it approach, Minjun recalled the words Jenkinson had spoken right before they parted.

‘I have one last thing to say. I've tried my best to protect the people you care about from being harmed by the Committee. But... I'm sorry. There's one person whose whereabouts I simply couldn't find.’

‘Ah, that guy? Don't worry about him.’

‘What? Don't tell me?!’

Minjun looked at the very target Jenkinson had worried so much about.

There were two reasons why the dragon who claimed Korea as his territory had fallen into deep concern.

One, because he too considered the ghost as 'Minjun's person'.

Two, because regardless of the contents inside, the shell he was currently wearing was a dragon.

=I've got a rough grasp of the layout, Agent.=

Dragged all the way to Hong Kong without knowing why, Ha Eunseong thoroughly recited the internal layout of the Lair he had just finished spying on.

"Good. That's enough."

The Lair's master, Roybert, had been alternating between Hong Kong and this place lately, and happened to be staying here today.

That dragon was running as a candidate in the Lord election and could be classified as having a pacifist leaning. Of course, that was putting it nicely; his main argument was essentially, 'Let's not needlessly break the mood of peace and trigger a plunge in the value of the assets dragons hold on Earth.'

He was also casting a vote of opposition against everything the strong favorite, Jenkinson, proposed. Furthermore, Jenkinson had predicted early on that even if the wraiths testified later, Roybert would drive the narrative by claiming, 'They are the memories of subordinate spirits, so their credibility is low.'

‘Jenkinson will set the stage so the Dragon Race helps me. And I will help Jenkinson in return.’

He gripped the Dark Sword in one hand and the Silver Frying Pan in the other. Then, he advanced toward the master of the Lair.

‘Alright, Roybert. It's time to eat.’

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