The Foreigner on the Periphery

From the moment he woke as a prisoner eight hundred years ago until today.

Minjun had tracked down targets who were hidden, fleeing, or missing—recovering, torturing, or exterminating them on the Committee's orders. No prisoner had done this job longer than he had.

But from now on, rather than focusing on how to track, Minjun intended to focus on how to avoid being tracked.

The greatest tracker could transform into the greatest fugitive at a moment's notice. Once they made up their mind to do so, at least. In truth, that was the hardest part.

Making up his mind to actually do it.

*

William Evans tossed a blue pill into his mouth. His second today. The Committee doctor had said this much was fine, a thought he clung to as he swallowed firmly.

'Damn it. I can't help being terrified.'

Tension welled up inside him.

Back when they worked together in Ashtal, there had been no need to compete over missions. But the infamy Asif-666 had built after being reassigned to Earth was truly terrifying.

Checking the prisoner network had left William absolutely horrified. Even if they inhabited artificial bodies, the tales were nightmarish: massive urinary stones that couldn't be surgically removed, or acute orchitis that wouldn't fade until the victim surrendered. The pain, after all, was just as real.

To think Asif-666 was now an enemy. William had been shocked when he first heard the news, but now that fear was becoming a grim reality.

'I might actually have to fight him?'

Now that the man had become a full-fledged fugitive, he wouldn't hold back at all.

Facing him with his limiters removed would make urinary stones and orchitis seem like a blessing. Anxiety completely consumed William's mind.

But a moment later...

"..."

It felt as if cold ice were melting away. A crisp, refreshing sensation spread through his mind.

The pill was kicking in.

'That's better. I'm calming down.'

His mind cleared, and a surge of motivation to focus on the mission rushed through him.

Time to work. Work hard, earn Talents, and buy back my freedom!

His ragged breathing steadied. He was just reciting his goals to stay focused when a voice interrupted him.

"A rattling sound. Something oval-shaped, smaller than a human fingernail. Since you swallowed it... is that a pill? The ones issued to you prisoners."

The voice came from beyond the glass wall.

William realized his mistake. He had left the microphone on. At the same time, he couldn't help but marvel at the dragon's hearing. To deduce an object's exact shape just from the sound of it... it was practically a bat.

"Yeah, this is the pill."

He had to admit it. Chatting with the dragon named Leo—the prospective prisoner he was tasked with guarding—was rather interesting. Despite being a severe psychopath, the dragon's demeanor was calm, and he actively answered the questions about Earth that William had always wanted to ask a local.

In exchange, William satisfied Leo's curiosity about prisoners, omitting only strictly classified information. The pills issued to the prisoners might have been a secret in the distant past, but they were public knowledge now.

"Does taking that really make you feel better?"

"The effects are guaranteed."

Besides the mandatory one pill a day, they sometimes took extra doses for the added benefits, just as he had done today.

William took extra pills for various reasons, but most often, he did so when faced with tragic news.

News like the fate of his former colleague, which was the very reason William had been dispatched to Earth in the first place.

The telepath, who went by the name Bradley here, had died with only ten thousand Talents left in his retirement fund. It had been a sudden, tragic accident. Hearing stories like that drained William's energy and left him unable to focus on anything for a while. Taking the pills was how he coped.

"Didn't you say taking too many will cause trouble later? Those pills are the only way to suppress the symptoms of long-term imprisonment, but you can build up a tolerance and render them useless when you actually need them. How did you describe it? You said it feels like your brain is boiling and leaking out of your ears, and your soul itches so badly you want to scratch it raw?"

"Something like that. I haven't experienced it yet, so I wouldn't know."

"Hmm. That's a bit of a shame, though."

"What is?"

The dragon murmured.

"If it weren't for those side effects, you prisoners would basically have the foundation for eternal life. If you just never pay off your debt in Talents, you'll never die, right? You just keep swapping into the artificial bodies the Committee provides and transferring your souls."

Eternal life.

William snorted.

What was the point of that?

Eternal life without the guarantee of happiness or freedom was nothing but a never-ending hell.

In other words, an eternity of suffering...

"..."

For a brief moment, William felt as though a part of his mind had gone completely blank. He tilted his head in confusion.

'Wait, what was I just thinking about?'

His train of thought was severed as the dragon mumbled something else. William decided not to bother chasing after the lost thought.

"Asif-666... You said Agent Ye Minjun holds the record at around eight hundred years, right?"

"Yeah."

"And most prisoners' minds begin to collapse well before that?"

"They say long-lived species hold up better."

"Yeah, I heard about that. That's why I'm looking forward to it."

Since he was a long-lived species too, the dragon flashed a wide grin. Looking at that face, William inwardly cursed again. 'Crazy bastard.'

"It is strange, though."

"What is?"

"Eight hundred years isn't actually that long of a time for a long-lived species, yet you say their minds collapse even before that?"

"Exactly. Only the Committee knows the exact percentage of long-lived species among the prisoners, but it can't be a small number. The dragons sentenced to penal labor alone make up a considerable portion. Add in races like the elves, and the number grows exponentially. Even so, the record still stands at eight hundred years."

"That is really strange."

The dragon pondered for a moment before speaking.

"Could it be that the reason their minds erode isn't due to losing their freedom for so long, or the stress of the missions... but something else entirely?"

"Ask the Committee yourself later."

Not that they would ever give him an answer.

"Anyway, it's a shame. If they could just solve that one issue, it could become a reality. Eternal life with no side effects."

Right at that moment.

'...!'

Beyond the glass wall, the dragon's eyes sharpened as he fixed his gaze in a single direction. Even though there was nothing there to see, his posture remained rigid. William's expression hardened at the same time. He didn't even bother turning his head.

He spoke in a low voice.

"It's started."

"...So it has."

The dragon chewed on the implications.

"They've started crossing over."

Leo had a rough idea of what was happening. The official forces dispatched by the Committee—the troops under the Tax Collection Command—were on the verge of arriving on Earth.

Their target was the fugitive. It was the first time the prisoners on Earth learned that hunting escapees was part of the Command's duties. In hindsight, it was a perfectly logical division of labor. Escaping from prison was, after all, a declaration that one would no longer pay the required living tax.

Beating down such tax evaders was exactly their job.

"Ugh."

William felt the tension rising again. He struggled to resist the urge to toss another pill into his mouth.

*

"It's started."

Asif-680,505.

The prisoner, operating on Earth under the name Damian Parker, stared at the monitors.

Crackle! Bzzzt!

Inbound slot. Sparks were flying in the space prepared for Jump Ships entering from other dimensions. The vessel that had been piercing through the Dimensional Wall for hours was finally preparing to arrive.

They were practically at the doorstep.

Damian gathered his thoughts. Once that ship carrying the vanguard fully crossed over into this dimension...

'Only then will I finally be able to breathe a sigh of relief.'

As one of the oldest prisoners stationed at the New York Terminal, he had been put in charge by the Committee. The reward they had promised for this operation was incredibly sweet.

'This is going to be my final mission. I'll retire right after this. Freedom is right in front of me!'

Fire burned in his eyes as he stared at the monitors. He couldn't hold back his smile.

The Committee hadn't used words like 'fugitive' or 'Asif-666' in their operational briefings at all. They had simply issued orders to defend the terminal, but there wasn't a single prisoner who couldn't read between the lines.

Asif-666 turning against them was the worst nightmare the Earth-bound prisoners could possibly imagine.

Until now, that was.

'Even he won't be able to survive against the Tax Collection Command.'

The moment the dimensional jump was completed, the baton would be passed.

That was why he couldn't afford to let his guard down.

'If he's going to hit New York, this is his only window. It's his last chance before the reinforcements arrive.'

Damian certainly didn't have any fondness for Asif-666. He had crossed paths with the man before, and the results had been disastrous. Just thinking about it made him involuntarily clench his sphincter. Just like he was doing right now.

'Son of a bitch! You goddamn bastard! You'll get what's coming to you!'

He unleashed a barrage of unspeakable curses in his mind before glaring venomously at the situation board. The entire terminal's troop deployment map was displayed right in front of him.

'He's going to try to escape off-planet. The Committee assumes the same. That's why they scattered us across all the terminals worldwide.'

If escaping was his goal, he wouldn't dare attack the primary facilities used to guide and launch the Jump Ships. Nor could he touch the slots where the Command's troops had already begun their jump—the literal tear in reality where the boundary between dimensions had been broken down.

Designating a slot for inbound or outbound traffic was just an arbitrary choice made by the operators. If the area sustained even the slightest damage, both departures and arrivals would be entirely blocked. In other words, it was impossible to perform a precision strike that destroyed the entrance while leaving the exit perfectly intact.

Their preparations were flawless. Stopping a jump that was already in progress was impossible. Comforting himself with these facts, Damian finally began to relax.

'What will it be? Are you going to make a final stand? Or will you just give up and head to another terminal...'

Right as he mumbled the thought.

BOOM!

A massive explosion echoed from outside.

A heavy shockwave rocked the command room. The glass windows violently rattled.

Damian's eyes shot wide open.

'Asif-666!'

*

Bang! BOOM!

It was like an indiscriminate bombardment.

Firestorms swept through the New York Terminal, lightning struck down, and thick clouds of an ominously colored gas billowed into the air.

The prisoners scrambled to mount a defense.

"I knew I had a bad feeling... he really came to New York. Damn it!"

"How the hell did he break the barrier to attack us?!"

"Mages! Track him right now! Where is he casting the spells from?"

"We can't! We can't find him! There are absolutely no traces!"

It was absolutely baffling.

"Does that even make sense?!"

The bombardment was tearing them apart, yet the attacker was nowhere to be seen.

Tracking his location was completely impossible.

While the prisoners panicked, spells swept through the terminal's facilities one by one. The earth beneath the maintenance depot—where an empty Jump Ship with no scheduled departure was moored—suddenly caved in. Shattered asphalt and massive mounds of dirt swallowed the entire building whole. Watching a Jump Ship get instantly buried underground made the prisoners feel faint.

Destroying one of the Committee's most valuable assets just like that?

Just how many Talents in property damage would be added to his bounty for that?

"This crazy bastard really doesn't care about the consequences anymore!"

But they didn't have the luxury of complaining for long.

"Aaaagh! Help! Save me!"

"Dark Magic?! That's Dark Magic!"

Like a raging flood bursting through a broken dam, a massive wave of darkness washed over the area. It writhed like a sentient creature, swallowing the prisoners whole. They desperately tried to fight back using magic and psychic powers, but it was as futile as trying to hold back a tidal wave with their bare hands. The tsunami of shadows engulfed them, multiplied, and continued its relentless surge forward.

There was no longer any room to doubt the attacker's identity. That was a shadow monster commanded by a Dark Mage. Yet, its form entirely transcended the typical monsters they were familiar with; it surged like an overwhelming tidal wave. Today was the first time any of them realized such a thing was even possible. And there was only one person capable of unleashing a phenomenon of this magnitude.

Asif-666.

He was here. He had to be. A summoned creature of that scale couldn't possibly be controlled from a distance.

But...

"Where the hell is he hiding?!"

They couldn't believe their eyes. The summoned creature was rampaging right in front of them, but its summoner was nowhere to be found. No detection spell could pinpoint the caster's location. Meanwhile, massive barrages of attack spells—which clearly weren't Dark Magic—were relentlessly obliterating the terminal's facilities and barriers.

"This is insane!"

Asif-666 was infamous for being highly skilled in multiple disciplines outside of Dark Magic. But none of them ever realized his prowess reached this level.

"...I knew the guy was a monster, but this is ridiculous!"

Inside the command room.

Damian's face had turned paper-white. Despite the elite prisoners gathered here, not a single one had even managed to brush Asif-666's sleeve.

After all, they needed to see him before they could even attempt to get close.

Attack magic was raining down on them, yet tracing the origin was impossible. To make matters worse, the defensive barriers erected to protect the terminal were being shredded like wet paper.

"He's been fooling us all this entire time. Don't tell me he even played the Committee for fools?"

According to his common sense, this level of destruction was simply impossible unless dozens of Ancient Dragons had gathered together to cast a joint spell.

"To think he was hiding power like this!"

That final muttering was both entirely correct and completely wrong.

Damian couldn't possibly have imagined it. But at this exact moment, dozens of Ancient Dragons had indeed put their heads together to cast a joint spell.

"Asif-666, just what the hell are you...!"

The sphincter that he had just barely managed to relax involuntarily clenched once again.

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