The Foreigner on the Periphery

It was late afternoon when Jeongpal received a call from Blair Campbell.

"Yes, Secretary."

The elf delivered the news that Jeongpal and Choi Panseok had been waiting for.

"You should be able to meet with the Chairman now."

"Ah, really? Thank you. Anytime works for me. Just tell me where and when, and I won't be late."

It seemed the Red Dragon—who was rumored to have canceled all his public engagements for some unknown reason—was finally resuming his activities.

Furthermore, ignoring the mountain of meeting requests that must have piled up, he had scheduled this meeting with the orc and the assemblyman first.

"However..."

Blair's trailing voice carried a distinct note of unease.

Unable to voice her concerns over the receiver, Blair swallowed them down.

Jenkinson had indeed woken up. It seemed the attempt by the youngest, who had awakened their Divine Power, had actually helped.

But his condition after waking up...

'If it were up to me, I'd strongly advise him to rest longer without any outside contact.'

Blair felt a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

'But I have no choice. The Chairman already made an oath in draconic. He promised that if Agent Minjun's friends ever asked for anything, granting their request would be his top priority.'

Because such oaths were so easily exploited, an ordinary dragon would never make such a commitment to the Non-Dragon Races. Jenkinson, however, had boldly sworn in draconic.

He had done so before the agent went missing, staking his loyalty and trust in that 'friend.'

Thus, Blair had no other choice.

Breaking a draconic oath wouldn't kill a dragon, but it would inflict a severe blow to both their body and mind.

Given Jenkinson's current state, suffering that kind of backlash... had to be avoided at all costs.

'I could try to deceive the Chairman.'

She could hide the fact that this meeting request had ever come in.

But lie to an Ancient Dragon?

Attempting that with even an ordinary dragon was guaranteed suicide, and Jenkinson, who valued loyalty above all else, would never trust Blair again.

That was a fate far more terrifying than death.

'I have no choice. Surely one orc wouldn't pose a threat to the Chairman.'

Blair relayed the time and place.

*

=Kyaaaaah!=

The mental landscape Minjun perceived shifted.

Dense darkness swallowed his surroundings, and a mind-piercing shriek echoed out.

He raised his head.

The prison holding Adkiel had changed. Above the shadow-filled expanse, a river of specters—one that hadn't been there before—now flowed.

Similar to the spirits he had summoned while hunting the earth dragon, the vast majority belonged to the Ancient Race. Horrifically mangled and crushed, they surged forward, biting at one another's heels.

However, the specters did not blend into or get absorbed by the undulating darkness below. That shadow monster had devoured ghosts back in the dimension of the crocodile-like race only because Minjun had explicitly willed it.

The specters wailed.

=Ahhh... stop! Stop!=

=Let me go! Get me out of here!=

=It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Please...!=

In that brief moment his attention drifted.

—!

The darkness overflowed.

The shadows took the shape of a mountainous wave and crashed down on Minjun.

Rumble!

It hammered down, seeking to completely crush him.

But just like every time before, the shadow monster failed to inflict even the slightest impact.

He whispered to his former master in a perfectly tranquil tone.

"You must be sick and tired of trying this by now."

And she should know by now that the outcome would never change.

=You!=

Despite that, his former master could not hold back her roar.

Standing on the razor's edge between human and monster, she howled.

=Do you plan to just drive me insane like this?!=

She was demanding to know if, after finally allowing her to regain a shred of her sanity, he was plotting to break her mind all over again.

Minjun knew exactly what had provoked her 'complaint.' He glanced back at the torrent of ghosts filling the other half of the realm—the flowing river forged from death.

=Kyaaaaah!=

The river surged endlessly, completely isolated from Adkiel, the very first prisoner to be trapped in this space. An invisible wall stood between her and the raging ghosts. It was Minjun's own arrangement. His former master surely didn't realize it, but erecting that barrier had been a massive and complex undertaking for him as well.

But while the wall separated them physically, it couldn't block out the specters' wails. It seemed the ceaseless, agonizing shrieks of tens of thousands of new arrivals had worn away at the veteran prisoner's nerves.

Well, it was a bit early to be losing her mind over something like this.

"Don't worry. You won't go crazy just because of those specters."

The psychic resonance of the wailing was more than enough to drive a normal dragon insane, but it wouldn't be enough to break Adkiel.

She had existed for far too long to have her mind shaken by something of this level—both as a monster, and as a person.

Furthermore.

"It's quite difficult for someone who is already insane to go crazy a second time."

Minjun peered into Adkiel's inner mind. She had recovered enough cognitive function to think like a human again, but she had never truly shaken off her madness.

The raw, unadulterated lunacy that had once driven her to massacre the rest of her own kin—all solely to ruin Minjun.

=You!=

Instead of listening to any more of her complaining, Minjun got straight to the point.

"I have a few tasks I need you to do for me."

Tasks that he personally despised doing.

—?!

Astounded beyond belief, Adkiel felt a surge of pure, unadulterated rage at his words.

Rumble!

The darkness collapsed inward, molding itself into the shape of a giant. Her shadowy claws viciously tore through the surrounding space.

But an invisible ring manifested around Minjun, perfectly deflecting the strike. The shadows that rebounded off the barrier shattered like black embers, scattering uselessly in every direction.

"Look at that."

Completely ignoring her attack, he raised a finger and pointed directly above her head.

He pointed to the procession of specters flowing past, isolated from the shadows.

"This is merely the tip of the iceberg. My successor and I will be sending many more specters here in the future. An amount of ghosts that simply cannot be compared to what you see right now."

=...?!=

Forgetting her assault for a moment, Adkiel chewed over his words.

These ghosts had abruptly begun sharing the prison that she had monopolized for so long. They all shared one thing in common: every single one of them had died by Minjun's will. And the vast majority of them belonged to the Ancient Race.

Adkiel didn't care how many more people Minjun planned to butcher. What truly chilled her was his intention. Why go out of his way to lock them up here, of all places?

His next words only confused his former master even further.

"Even after this war comes to an end, the influx of souls will continue."

=...What do you mean?!=

"Because I'm going to use this place as an example to strike fear into them."

=What?=

She couldn't understand him at all.

"This is the first task I'm assigning you. Though I suppose you could just call it forced labor. You will... be managing this place. Serving as its gatekeeper, in a sense."

Adkiel couldn't even scoff at the absurdity of it.

The very idea was so utterly preposterous that her mind drew a blank.

Belatedly, her mind boiled over in outrage.

=You play at being a god, committing atrocities no human should ever commit, and now it seems you've completely lost your mind! Do you truly believe you can bend everything to your whims?! Did you honestly think I would ever cooperate with you?!=

Instead of answering her directly, Minjun calmly explained his reasoning.

Though there were two participants, the conversation was essentially an endless exchange of monologues where each side only spoke their own mind.

"To protect the 'us' of the future, we have to force more strictures upon them. And naturally, more rules will inevitably lead to more punishments."

Refusing to listen to another word, Adkiel furiously bombarded him with telepathic curses and swelling waves of shadow.

To summarize the sentiment expressed through her words and actions, it was a rather crude suggestion that since she had absolutely no interest in what he was saying, he should instead go focus on the anatomical structure of his own genitals and use them to pleasure himself.

But Minjun did not stop speaking.

"I've only just finished sketching out the grand design for how we'll handle the other races after the war ends."

The core plan remained unchanged: combine brainwashing through Asiph-1 with strict control based on religious dogma.

The problem was, how should they punish those who refused to submit to that control? Should they just brainwash all the dissidents too? What if the number of sinners began growing exponentially?

"There are no shackles more effective than fear. They will be forced to bear witness to the ultimate fate of the most wicked sinners—those who completely failed to prove their worth. Right here."

Minjun absentmindedly stroked the undulating waves of shadow surrounding him.

Even though the power harbored an intense desire to rip him apart and crush him to dust, it swayed helplessly against Minjun's idle touch. The darkness was gently redirected, flowing harmlessly through his fingers like calm ripples of water.

Adkiel felt a wave of profound disgust.

"They will learn that death does not guarantee absolution. Death is not the end of punishment. Pilgrims will come here, and they will testify that the wicked who break God's law will suffer for eternity even after they die. Right here."

Minjun flashed a chilling smile.

"And you will be this place's very first prisoner, as well as its warden."

The more terrifying the punishment, the further people would distance themselves from sin.

Adkiel perfectly understood his reasoning, but she still couldn't fathom why Minjun was demanding she play such an active role in it.

How could he possibly expect her to cooperate?

Minjun gave her the answer.

"Because obeying my orders is the only way you'll ever satisfy your own desires."

=What?!=

"Right now, the greatest desire anchoring your ego is the urge to brutally destroy me."

But her attempts had already failed.

"But you must have realized by now. That's impossible. If I still owed you even a fraction of a debt, it might be a different story. But I'm completely debt-free now. I no longer feel any guilt whatsoever toward my old master. I won't ever put myself at risk to atone for my sins again. And I certainly won't leave you to your own devices the way I have until now."

Staring at her former disciple and mortal enemy boldly declaring his absolute indifference, Adkiel felt an emotion that transcended mere hatred.

"Why did you want to destroy me in the first place? It's because I stole your promised tranquility. Exiled from the natural flow of time and imprisoned in this place for eons, what you truly want is freedom. Freedom through complete obliteration."

Adkiel wanted to be erased.

She desperately longed to become a being that was no longer 'herself.'

"And I am the only one who can fulfill that longing."

Minjun casually waved his hand through the empty air.

A change occurred instantly.

The transparent barrier separating the shadow monster from the specters suddenly fractured, revealing a painstakingly calibrated crack. This was the culmination of all the work Minjun had been obsessively focusing on.

Whoosh!

In the very next moment, Adkiel's own shrieks mingled with the wails of the specters.

It was like someone had pulled the plug in a bathtub full of water. The shadows making up Adkiel's body swirled into a vortex, and a chunk of her essence was violently sucked directly into the river of specters.

It was the exact opposite of what had happened in the past. The spiritual osmosis of this dimension had been reversed. Before, the shadow monster had gorged itself on the ghosts.

But now...

=You... you absolute demon!=

As perfectly measured portions of her shadow bled through the crack, the specters rejoiced and frantically threw themselves at it.

The ghosts ravenously devoured her shadows. This was only possible because Adkiel wasn't a pure spiritual body—she was a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and spirit stitched together. And, more importantly, it was possible because Minjun had permitted it.

Writhing in agony, Adkiel suddenly realized a terrifying possibility.

Could it be?

Was he planning to just toss her to the specters as fodder?

It would be a profoundly miserable way to die, but she couldn't deny that it would give her the exact outcome she desired.

Complete obliteration.

But there was no reason the process had to be this excruciating. Or drawn out for so long.

This phenomenon was akin to poking a pinhole into a massive dam holding back an entire ocean called Adkiel. The specters could only feast on her at the agonizingly slow pace that her essence leaked through that microscopic gap.

=Like this...?!=

But a moment later, Adkiel realized that even this grim outlook had been entirely too optimistic.

=Ah!=

For the first time in an impossibly long time, the shadow monster felt true terror.

With another flick of Minjun's hand, a second crack splintered the wall between the specters and the shadow. It was located quite a distance away from the first fissure. However, the energy erupting from this second gap flowed in the exact opposite direction.

The specters were seeping into the shadow.

The ghosts of the Ancient Race were pulverized and blended like ingredients in a food processor, grinding into tiny fragments before surging into Adkiel's body.

Adkiel couldn't control the influx at all. Regardless of her own will, she was forcibly absorbing the shredded specters.

The grayish-white specters and the pitch-black Adkiel were dragged in opposite directions across the two fissures. The flow formed a perfect cycle, resembling the symbol of Taiji. On one end, Adkiel was being slowly eaten alive by the specters. On the other end, the specters were being aggressively absorbed back into her.

They were simultaneously predator and prey to one another.

An inescapable hell trapped in an eternal cycle of cannibalism.

Adkiel finally realized exactly what Minjun's plan was.

=You... you utter lunatic!=

Being called a lunatic by an insane ghost didn't seem to faze Minjun in the slightest.

"The beasts who were willing to sacrifice the entire world to achieve eternal life, and the king who was willing to sacrifice one person to save the world. Both sides will get exactly what they wanted."

Those who craved eternal life would suffer for eternity, and the one who sought to sacrifice another would end up sacrificing herself.

"Like I said before, the number of specters flooding into this place is only going to grow. You will watch them, monitor them, and eventually, you will punish them of your own volition—even when I'm not here to command it. Because doing so is the one and only key to your freedom."

=...What did you just say?=

"Look inward. You should be able to feel the difference."

Losing the battle against her own stubborn refusal, the monster did exactly as Minjun instructed.

She instantly noticed the anomaly.

=Ah...!=

The exact amount of her being that the specters had devoured had been perfectly replaced by the shredded specters she was forced to absorb.

But Adkiel's ego had faded in exact proportion to the mass she had lost and regained. She was ever so slightly more diluted than she had been a moment ago. Her lost essence had been patched over using the spiritual bodies of others.

"As this process continues, the ego known as Adkiel will eventually vanish entirely. In its place, there will only be a spiritual machine left behind—a grotesque amalgamation of souls programmed to unconditionally obey my commands. The sole purpose hardwired into that machine will be to inflict semi-permanent torment on the sinners imprisoned here. The only silver lining for you is that the moment that machine is finally completed, it can no longer be considered 'Adkiel.'"

Give it a little more time, and Adkiel would be desperately begging to become that machine.

Minjun knew that to his former master, it felt as though she was seeing him for the first time in decades. She had no idea that in the real world, only a few dozen days had passed. Minjun's absolute control over this dimension had profoundly distorted her perception of time.

"The longer you try to hold onto your sanity, the harder this will be to endure. There are few torture devices in this universe more effective than time itself. And there is no prison quite as inescapable. Soon enough, you'll be praying for your ability to think to simply shut off. And the exact moment you achieve that wish—the moment you shed your desires and emotions to become a mindless machine—this space will finally gain true permanence."

A semi-permanent, self-sustaining torture chamber.

"Many religions preach about the concepts of heaven and hell. And as we both know from experience, it is currently impossible to create heaven in this universe. However... creating the other one seems like it might be very possible in the near future."

Currently, there was no dimension in the universe designed explicitly as an instrument of punishment.

Some might argue that the oppressive reality ruled by the Committee and the dragons was already practically hell, but without the explicit purpose of punishment, it was imperfect.

"Some call the Abyss a hell, but that's really nothing more than a cosmic dump created by the fragmentation of the universe. It lacks any true penal purpose. In other words, across the entirety of this universe, a true hell does not exist."

Minjun delivered his final sentence in a perfectly even tone.

"So, I've decided to create one."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!