Mutagenic Medieval is a world composed of backward governments ranging from tribes, monarchy, villages, and the medieval setting that is a staple in the fantasy genre.
After Alfir's wounds completely heal, he prepares himself to escape the miserable streak he has been experiencing lately. Lying in bed in pain is certainly miserable, not to mention the series of nightmares that follow Alfir's every sleep.
Alfir tries to make the best of it, by gathering information from the nightmares, but he can only go so far as his mental endurance allows him. Every time he returns to the world of memory, he also has to experience Minion 12193's sufferings.
It is never an enjoyable experience unless Alfir is a masochist. The only fun he gets on idling around from the hospital ward is the few conversations he shares with his co-minions.
"What matters is that I enjoy the process..." He cheers himself with his mantra as he stands up from the hospital bed and steers in the direction of the mission halls in mind.
Alfir strides forward through the mission halls. After some asking, he is able to ascertain that Minion#12193's death occurred through Flamecore's hands.
Alfir feels pity for Minion#12193's idiocy of participating in a suicidal mission. But thanks to such idiocy, it has allowed Alfir's transmigration.
For minions like Alfir, they have a quota to accomplish— an average of a dozen E-rank-missions.
Since Minion#12193 has recently completed an S-mission, Alfir's participation is duly recognized given the danger levels of the mission do not match his rank.
For a supposed-to-be evil organization, this is quite something. "Not that I am complaining but a failed mission can also be credited? My brain while writing this novel must be rotting..."
He cusses himself casually. From the organization's perspective, minions are rewarded even if the result is a failure, especially considering it is a 'cannon fodder' mission which Minion#12193 barely survives from.
Scratch 'barely', as Minion#12193 really did die.
Alfir would like to read the mission information about the Flamecore incident, but he cannot as he lacks the rank to do so.
Since the mission information is classified, and Alfir's memory of the events is blurry, he has no idea what truly happened. For one, Alfir has no recollection of the character 'Flamecore' being attacked by Zentury's minions.
"It is not like I have to know... I guess this world has something like a self-correction. Anything that I didn't write about will definitely start popping left and right at some point in time."
Alfir focuses his mind, and with a thought, he summons his system interface.
[MINION #12913 (Identification Basic Information)
Authority Level: 2371
Zentury Credits: 927109
Specialized Skills: None
Remarks: A low-level minion of Zentury known for being plain and almost invisible. Please work hard for the sake of Zentury. Though we don't expect great things from you, we expect you to contribute.]
"Ugh… These remarks hurt more than I thought."
In Alfir's sight is his Zentury system user interface. Only Alfir can see this system. Through the direct manipulation of the central nervous system via an electronic chip, technology makes it possible to create something like this.
Too bad, this system is unlike the one Alfir knew, it is not a cheat system, but simply a reflection of his status.
"But, a minion-like system huh? Yeah, asking for a god-like system is too much." Alfir whispers to himself, halfheartedly complaining about his situation.
"My priority now should be removing or disabling the electronic chip inside my head." Alfir's thoughts of having a system are not that strong. So parting with the system in front of him is more welcome than sorry. This is for a good reason too...
The chip inside his head after all has an exploding function. It is the one thing that controls the minion's life and death. What makes these chips more fearsome is the fact that each member of Zentury has explosive chips embedded into their head, the 'system-user-interface' is just one of its auxiliary functions. Even an executive has no choice but to have one in his/her head.
It is good that names don't matter in Zentury. As long as you have this system in your possession, you'll be good. Well, as long as you don't mind the bomb sleeping in your skull.
'Numbers' fill the personnel of Zentury. If you are a member of Zentury, your past doesn't matter. Only your loyalty and liability to the organization are what truly matter.
It is unfortunate that Alifr has no clues of his original name, or simply put, his identity before becoming Zentury's goon.
The memories of Minion#12193 are quite fragmented and are possibly unrepairable. In the future, the possibility of fixing it is always open, but the difficulty will be next to impossible.
Alfir doesn't need to unnecessarily bother with it as this doesn't need his immediate attention.
While busy with his thoughts, Alfir accidentally bumps into someone.
"Fuck! Watch where you walk, do you want to get killed?"
"Ah! Sorry… But where are the mission halls?"
"Fuuuuuuuuck, so are you a newbie? Didn't someone tell you to listen in the orientation properly?" He is a rugged man, a sword hanging by his waist. Judging by the way he carries himself, Alfir realizes he must be a minion just like him.
Alfir feels a sense of camaraderie with the unknown minion.
"I am not a newbie. I had a short-term memory loss after my recent mission."
"Ugh… You are lucky. You must have it rough. Still, if you met someone eccentric or hot-tempered, you might've already been killed. Just walk straight then turn right. Get it? Watch where you step if you don't want to die."
"I am sorry, and thank you!"
And just like that, the two minions part their ways.
With the unknown minion's instruction, Alfir finally reaches the mission halls. Surprisingly, people here in Zentury don't seem that bad at all. There is the Cleaner and that minion. They look nice people, Alfir thinks to himself if everything can be that easy.
"Give me a catalog of S-missions of Cannon fodder variety," Alfir boldly declares to the mission clerk.
'Look what Alfir is up to! After lambasting Minion#12193's idiocy a while ago for tackling an S-rank mission, Alfir is... doing this?!' Alfir secretly chides himself aware of how badly others might perceive him.
"Uuummm... Sure." The clerk frowns at Alfir's words. It is not enough that he survives an S-rank mission just once, and now… he wants more? Alfir's tale of surviving an S-rank mission as cannon fodder has already spread in the organization. It's a worthy feat that only a few can replicate. It can be said that Alfir is now an uprising rookie in his fellow minions' eyes.
However, for the clerk, it is just empty bravado. There is a reason why it is called a 'Cannon fodder' variety.
"Hmmm… Let's see. Narrow it to the missions for next month. Tsk. Come on, do it fast. Why are you so slow?" Alfir adds, gesticulating at the clerk to do his job properly.
'Huh!? What the fu~ what the? Do you think I have no human rights!? Just because I am a clerk, you are doing this to me?' The clerk indignantly thinks to himself. He doesn't show his irritation though afraid of the many psychos that lurk in the facility.
As an abducted civilian forced to do paperwork, the mission clerk tries his best to ingratiate himself.
"Ohohoh, please calm down… dear sir, here is it, on page 479. Look, it's the Cannon fodder catalog."
Alfir has his reasons for seeing this particularly evaded catalog by most minions. Well, he is the author of this world, his very own novel... Alfir wants to see if there is a mission he can take using his knowledge of this world to his full advantage.
No one will criticize him anyway.
"Thanks," Grabbing the thick book full of deadly missions, Alfir starts his gold hunt. "Hmmmm... This will do." A particular mission catches Alfir's eyes.
'The Immortal King, huh?' Enthused, Alfir unhesitatingly applies for the mission as his eyes glow with indiscernible madness.
Alfir returns the catalog to the clerk.
Leaving the baffled clerk alone, Alfir walks away with a spry on his steps.
For now, he needs to prepare. "What should I bring?"
In anticipation of the battle among pinnacles, Alfir steadies his mind imagining a spectacle resonant with his novel. Recalling the information about Mutagenic Medieval, Alfir realizes that he stumbles into a freebie.
Eager to prepare himself for the incoming incursion, Alfir comes for the Zentury shop.
Since arriving in this world, Alfir is able to accept the ridiculousness of his transmigration. He doesn't question how he comes here or why in his own novel. Alfir is not the kind of person who will entertain reflecting on the 'Question of Existence'.
You don't need a grand reason to live.
You exist, because you exist.
This is Alfir's mob way, and it will remain the same as in his past life.
Mobs, that's what people generally classify as extras in a story. And now, Alfir has become one of them. That as it may, Alfir has always been part of a mob, hence explaining his mindset.
…
Sadly, this 'mob thinking' might be not as unartificial as he thinks.