The Foreigner on the Periphery

Asif-1 quickly tracked down those who had fled underground.

He had pursued them on foot and caught up to their flying craft.

"Stop him!"

The guards the Grand Committeeman had assigned to the manager were already prepared to die. Before sending him off, the old Kavite had given a strict order: abandon all thoughts of survival and stall for as much time as possible. Only then could their race win, survive, and prosper for eternity.

The warriors screamed as they blocked the path. In front of them, the man with flowing long hair danced. He charged in, dodging the downpour of lightning and flames.

"You demon!"

A warrior, resolved to perish with him, attacked while burning his entire body with aura. Clad in armor sprouting streamlined blades, he launched himself into a full-body tackle like a missile.

Asif-1's response was neither fast nor slow. He raised his right hand at the optimal moment, and the Orichalcum Pan—passed down from mother to father, and then to son—flashed.

'Danger!'

He abandoned the option of a direct collision.

Swoosh!

The Kavite dramatically changed direction. Veering from his path, he aimed for Asif-1's flank. The warrior's eyes shone with the realization of success—right up to the moment the blade at the tip of his helmet pierced the enemy's body.

Clang!

"...?!"

It was a sound that could never be made by metal striking flesh.

The Kavite blankly shifted his eyes. The blade had stopped, leaving only a single small scratch on the flesh of Asif-1's flank.

"Monster...!"

There was no way he could have known that, just like the Orichalcum Pan, Asif-1's body was also a gift from Dell.

Meaning that in many ways, it far exceeded the bounds of common sense.

Clang!

Asif-1 firmly struck down with the Frying Pan.

Crunch!

The head of the Kavite hanging onto his flank was blown clean off. The headless body fell to the floor and squirmed.

Taking his sacrifice as an opportunity, the other warriors rushed in. They unleashed attacks from all directions, leaving no room for escape.

At that moment, Asif-1's eyes flashed.

="Submit!"=

He tried it even knowing he could not make them yield in an instant.

From the start, his goal here was not perfect brainwashing.

"Kugh!"

The voice digging into their heads created an opening. Seizing the momentary gap, Asif-1 tore through the air. He filled his surroundings with his own afterimages, along with the flying flesh and bodily fluids of the Kavites.

Swish!

Whenever he swung his Sword, the worms were chopped in half.

Bang!

Whenever he smashed down the pan, flesh and bodily fluids evaporated.

"Kieeeek!"

A religious artifact in one hand, a cooking utensil in the other—it was a bizarre dual-wielding style unprecedented in the universe... or rather, practiced by exactly one person. Yet, Asif-1 moved with the skill of a grandmaster of the discipline. Thanks to this, tools that looked designed to nourish the soul and the body were instead being used to separate souls from bodies.

Toying with distance and speed, he repeatedly struck the warriors and pulled back. It was hard to believe he had received his new body less than a month ago.

This kind of movement was not acquired just by watching his creator. During the time he was fragmented, many of his pieces had dwelled within Ego Swords and the like, similar to Earth's 'Blade'. The memories of the slaughter he had experienced as various weapons remained intact within his soul.

Although his objective time was only about 800 years, since each fragment had endured a similar duration, the total sum of his subjective time might have exceeded thousands or even tens of thousands of years.

"Kyaaaak!"

After blowing away the head of yet another enemy, Asif-1 gripped the Frying Pan in a reverse grip and brought his blade forward. He wet his lips with his tongue. There were not many left now.

"Uuugh!"

Among the Kavites watching him, the scent of fear drifted alongside a thick fishy stench.

*

Clang! Bang! Crunch!

The manager of Yongreung trembled.

Splat! Squelch!

A disaster was approaching.

"N-no, stop him... Aaaagh!"

Every time the guards behind his back let out their death throes, his body flinched and stiffened.

"Grrr... Manager... Hurry!"

The scent of death and fear was closing in.

The opponent was firmly and surely closing the distance.

Meanwhile, the speed at which the manager manipulated the console gradually slowed, and the conviction in his voice as he issued orders to the AI faded.

'I have to die like this?'

Ironically, the action the manager was about to take would bring a faster and more certain death than the one approaching in the form of 'Asif-1'.

He was about to self-destruct the Dragon Heart and wipe out the entire planet, making sure no one, including himself, could survive.

'The chance to live for eternity is right in front of me, but to end so vainly!'

The image of a prisoner digging his own grave wouldn't leave his mind.

The manager finally understood why they complied even knowing they would die anyway. Rebelling meant instant death. Submitting to brutal hard labor, on the other hand, meant living just a little bit longer.

Likewise, he too wanted to live just a little bit longer.

Overlapping himself with the prisoner in his imagination, the manager howled inwardly.

'Even if my kin win, what's the point if I die?'

What meaning does a world have without me in it?

Can any value that exists after I die be connected or relevant to me?

'Is self-destruction the only way? If I surrender instead, maybe Asif-1 will...'

Thanks to the mental waves that had dug into his head several times, he had guessed the opponent's identity.

'Asif-1 might spare me.'

He searched for reasons not to self-destruct and calculated the odds of his survival.

The manager did not believe in the compassion of others.

However, he did believe in the cold calculations that weighed another person's utility and usefulness.

'Keeping high-level personnel like me alive is profitable! If they're worried I might betray them... they can just brainwash me!'

He knew the mental defenses in his mind weren't flawless. If Asif-1 put in the time, care, and effort, he would eventually be able to brainwash him.

'Then at the very least, I'll survive.'

However, even assuming that, one problem remained.

Could a brainwashed me still be considered me? Did true 'freedom' and 'will' exist in a manipulated free will? Could the continuity between a free consciousness and a controlled consciousness be acknowledged?

'Damn it! But there's no other way!'

The Kavite wanted to live.

An entity's greatest desire is inevitably bound to life.

For that very reason, he craved eternal life.

"...!"

The movements of the tendrils manipulating the console grew slower until they finally stopped.

At that moment, the sound of something slowly tearing came from behind him.

That distinct noise was the final sound.

"Gasp!"

Trembling in fear, the manager slowly turned around.

The warrior who had held out until the very end was rolling on the floor. He didn't know what was used to kill him or how, but the texture of the severed stump where the neck had fallen off was incredibly rough. Suppressing his nausea, the manager lowered his gaze.

And he bowed his body, practically collapsing to the floor.

"Hmm?"

He forced out his voice, weakly but desperately.

"Please, spare my life!"

Asif-1 tilted his head.

The creator's order was to stop these bastards from trying any funny business. There were no specific instructions like kill them all or take prisoners. It had been left entirely up to him. He was a little happy because it felt like his judgment and will were being respected.

Should he kill him? Or spare him?

Instead of making an immediate decision, he quietly looked at the opponent.

The Kavite spoke urgently.

"I am the head manager in charge of Yongreung! You and Asif-666 came here for the Dragon Heart, right?"

Asif-1 remained silent and tilted his head even deeper.

"I will definitely be of use! So please, just spare my life..."

"Do you also desire eternal life?"

The main character who cut off his words was not Asif-1.

The son stepped aside and cleared the way. And then he bowed his head respectfully to the figure approaching from behind.

Asif-1 had already sensed that the other party had finished his business upstairs and was approaching. That was why he had withheld his decision and just listened to the babbling.

The creator had respected his will, and Asif-1 had made his own choice.

The decision to yield the right of choice to a greater being.

"Uuugh... Uuuugh!"

The Kavite barely managed to shift his eyes. A being even more terrifying than the demon threatening him was approaching.

Beyond the passage, brushing past the boundary of shadow and light, Minjun revealed his face. He asked again.

"I asked if you also desire eternal life."

The moment the Kavite hesitated—

Slither!

The manager heard a strange sound. There was someone else behind Minjun.

He couldn't think of it as an intruder. In that case...

'A prisoner?! Is there a Kavite they kept alive instead of killing?!'

His two eyes, which had briefly flashed with a ray of hope...

"...Ah!"

...were dyed in despair upon seeing the entity that appeared behind Minjun.

It was once a Kavite, but it was now a lifeform he didn't know what to call anymore.

The upper body extending from the waist was no different from a normal member of his race.

But below that...

Slither! Squelch!

Every time it brushed against the floor and crawled forward, a bizarre sound echoed. Its lower half looked like erratically extending tree roots, or like obsessively stretched blood vessels.

A tangled mess of muscles, organs, and blood clots formed legs that Kavites did not originally possess. And they were moving the body, looking as if they would weave together only to unravel, twisting only to unfurl again.

"Ah... Aaah!"

The manager recognized that face.

It was the Grand Committeeman.

The eyes of the old Kavite and the manager met. The other party seemed to have lost both the freedom to speak and the strength to blink. The manager was reflected in the tear-stained, bloodshot eyes. Beneath the mucous membranes of the Grand Committeeman's eyeballs, something like grains of rice was crawling around.

Bugs...?

The moment he realized that possibility, the manager wanted to cry. Fighting the urge to do so, he looked at the other's 'legs' again.

The sight he had overlooked due to the shock was now visible. What was there was not just flesh, mucous membranes, and blood clots. Beneath the surface, countless tiny grains like the ones he saw in the eyes were seething and moving.

Minjun spoke indifferently.

"I'll ask one last time. Do you desire eternal life?"

The manager looked at the Grand Committeeman with an indescribable expression. The old Kavite was desperately pleading for something with his eyes.

In that instant.

"...!"

The Grand Committeeman barely managed to forge a single strand of mental wave. That wave seeped into the manager's mind. It was both a worry and an earnest plea.

The manager quietly stirred his telekinesis. The air in front of him vibrated, forming a sharp shape. As Asif-1 moved as if to block it, Minjun stopped him. It was a hand gesture indicating there was no need.

The vibrational wave created by the manager grew increasingly violent.

Spurt!

Purple bodily fluids scattered and sprayed across the console panel the manager had his back against.

The headless corpse of the Kavite slowly collapsed.

Thud!

The mental waves of the Grand Committeeman, hovering between language and emotion, thickly encroached on the surroundings. Minjun paid it no mind. Instead, he glared at the Dragon Hearts piled up yonder.

A cold silence descended.

*

"They've been recklessly squandering what wasn't even theirs all this time."

Minjun moved first.

Asif-1, who had been staring at the manager's corpse, reacted a little late.

"Are you going to absorb those into your body like the dragon blood?"

Minjun shook his head.

He began to separate the Dragon Hearts suspended in the air and swallow them into his subspace.

"Impossible. From the start, those weren't designed to directly convert into 'our' life force or magic power. If that were possible, I wouldn't have stored them here separately; I would have absorbed them before going to sleep."

The dragon blood was food, and the Dragon Heart was a battery.

Asif-1 muttered while looking at the red crystals.

"Dragons truly were animals that gave generously."

"We modified them to give generously."

Asif-1, who was assisting him with the task, muttered.

"By the way, will it really be possible? Later, when everyone wakes up, will everything be able to proceed smoothly without keeping Dragons as livestock?"

After a moment of silence, Minjun answered.

"I'll have to find a way."

He recalled the first question that had triggered that concern.

Can we grant Dragons the status of a person?

Strangely enough, compared to the massive river of his primordial ego, the mere speck of dust that was Asif-666—the prisoner's ego—was asserting its presence right now.

A book opened in the vast library of his memories. In response to the prisoner's memories, the roster it presented contained the names of two Dragons. He read them in turn.

'...Rod.'

Minjun remembered the Dragon who had shown him goodwill since their first meeting.

His voice lingered in his ears.

- I feel like we could be good friends.

Below that name was the name of a Dragon he had known even longer than Rod.

'Jenkinson.'

A phenomenon similar to when he had rummaged through his memories of Dell followed. Minjun, as a member of the primordial race, considered her an Endelion with strategic value, but as a prisoner, he felt incredibly complicated emotions toward Dell. Although his outward words and actions leaned toward the former.

Likewise, Minjun made a conflicting assessment of the name Jenkinson.

It was the name of a certain Dragon inhabiting Earth.

At the same time, it was the name of a friend he hadn't thought of in a very long time.

Floating like a tiny speck of dust, the prisoner's ego muttered.

'Come to think of it... that guy.'

It was the concern one person shows for another.

'I wonder if Jenkinson is doing alright?'

*

Jenkinson felt like he was going to die.

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