31. Princess Run (6)
Broken bone fragments flew in all directions, and flesh and crushed brain matter fell to the ground with a thud.
His head had exploded so easily.
'What...!'
A hissing sound came from the chest of the fallen mage, and black smoke began to rise. The artifact hidden in his clothes had overloaded and caught fire. The stench of raw flesh mixed with the smell of burning skin.
'Crazy!'
The adrenaline surged through the remaining two, and cold sweat poured down their faces.
The necklace that had been proven to be "a magical tool that can reliably deliver a counter once, unless you do something insane like fight a dragon" by the Witch's Cooperative was useless against the onslaught.
So, is that man really a dragon?
'No, that can't be!'
Whatever his identity, there was no doubt that he was incredibly strong. They didn't even notice how their comrade's head had exploded. That was Minjun's favorite curse—a spell that rapidly increases the internal pressure in a specific area of the body.
The result was the explosion of a head like a balloon.
"······!"
For a moment, everything froze.
The mages immediately began chanting. Since the magical tools were useless, their only chance was to strike first. Though no words were exchanged, their movements were perfectly synchronized. While the older black mage chanted a long incantation, the man beside him bought time.
The one briefly tasked with stopping Minjun opened his mouth. His teeth had become sharp, like a beast or an orc. Without hesitation, he rolled up his sleeves.
Swish!
There was no hesitation. With those teeth, he began tearing into his own flesh. His chest and body were soaked in blood, and the ceiling was splattered with it.
"Ugh!"
In ancient times, before the concept of a council, primitive dark magic was a form of sacrifice, where the practitioner gave up their own pain and life force.
But if they kept relying on this method, they would only cast a few spells before they died, so the history of black magic had evolved along the lines of transferring that burden to the offering.
And today, other than Minjun, black mages intentionally injure themselves because the most powerful dark magic was the self-sacrificial type that allowed them to escape dangerous situations, even at the cost of shortening their lives.
Whoosh!
The flesh and blood the mage had consumed turned into a crimson flame. It was the curse's fire, created with far more power than the black magic he had accumulated. Just as he was about to expel the flame from his lips toward Minjun—
"······!"
He couldn't open his mouth. With fire in his mouth, his face turned bright red, and then black. His eyes rolled back, exposing the whites.
Whoosh!
The mage began expelling blood-red flames from every hole in his face—his mouth, ears, and nostrils. Instead of attacking the enemy as intended, the cursed flames consumed the mage's body.
Minjun's curse had struck first. The curse that made blood and flesh extremely flammable had met the fire in the mage's mouth, resulting in an uncontrollable fire.
Sizzle!
Thud!
The mage's charred head fell. Two out of the three had died without a chance to react. It had only been a few seconds.
In those few moments, the strongest mage among them had managed to finish casting his greatest spell.
Whoosh!
A shadow swirled above the remaining black mage's shoulder. It trembled and swirled like boiling steam.
Soon, it tangled in mid-air and began to form a shape.
"······."
Minjun looked at it impassively.
A monster appeared above the mage's head. A black summon with only its upper body formed. Blood-red mist flowed from its mouth, coloring the air, and a bloodthirsty gaze poured forth. The shadow revealed a massive, muscular body like that of a troll.
Though the black mage's legs trembled with sweat, he laughed with confidence.
Grrr!
The shadow monster.
A mage would know. Whether physical or spiritual, it was a summons that tore apart anything it touched.
After years of effort, he had managed to summon it in such a large form. Even summoning it the size of a palm would cause a massacre, which was an incredible achievement.
To face this monster, one would need both extreme physical and spiritual defense. Without being a dragon, there was no way to survive the invader.
'Hmm?'
The black mage finally felt an oddity.
From the expression on Minjun's face, which he had thought was frozen in fear, there was a strange hint.
That wasn't a frozen fear…
"!?"
The glint in Minjun's eyes told a different story.
Boredom.
It was the kind of irritation and boredom that had reached its peak.
Whoosh!
This time, Minjun didn't chant, nor did he offer any sacrifices.
The black magic that had already filled both his body and soul immediately summoned an entity.
Behind him, black storm-like winds exploded. The air shifted, devouring the space in an instant.
"······Hah!"
The mage gasped as if his lungs had collapsed.
The entire space he saw turned pitch black, darkened in a way that was intensely suffocating. An overwhelming sense of fear and an eerie realization followed.
Grrr!
The massive entity filled the room, its head touching the ceiling.
Compared to the summon the black mage had conjured, it was like the difference between an adult and a child.
The black mage felt his legs give out as he looked at the bizarrely large shadow creature that Minjun had summoned.
"Y-You are...!"
Only then did he realize that his opponent was a black mage as well, proving the gap in their abilities.
Creeeak!
The black mage's summoned monster reacted violently. Now, even the shadow that seemed so imposing appeared to shrink in comparison, twitching and screaming in an attempt to flee. In a panic, the mage shouted to his summon.
"Fight for me as per our contract! Don't try to run, face it head-on!"
Seeing this, Minjun sneered. It was natural that the summoned creature, which had been conjured with dark magic, would be hard to control, especially when the mage was trying to coax it.
In stark contrast to the flailing mage, Minjun made a nonchalant gesture toward the front.
Instantly.
Whoosh!
Like a trained hunting dog sensing its master's signal, a black flash rushed forward.
Kyaaa!
It was like throwing a lamb to a starving shark. Minjun's monster tore through the black flesh with its two hands, splitting it along the grain. Next, it tore into the screaming neck. Blood rained down like a storm, and the shadow shattered into pieces, fluttering around. The small creature disintegrated in mid-air.
And the mage connected to the summon…
"Cough!"
Could no longer hold on and collapsed to his knees. As he coughed up a mouthful of blood, the remains of the summon disappeared without a trace.
"······Cough! Ugh!"
Exhausted, the black mage collapsed, and Minjun's voice settled over his shoulder. It was a voice with little variation in pitch or emotion.
"Well then, shall we have a real conversation?"
Minjun sat him down and bound him.
The orc boy hadn't woken up yet, so the only ones still conscious in the building were the black mage and Minjun.
Dongyo-seok was practically dead, and the men he'd met, along with other organization members, lay cold and lifeless around the building.
The human rights organization's lower faction had been utterly dismantled by one man.
The bound black mage, in a lifeless voice, asked,
"······Why does the Oslo school master oppose the human rights group?"
His eyes still held a glimmer of confusion, and Minjun realized that this human supremacist had mistaken his identity.
The person he had just mentioned was the notorious black mage who had evaded capture despite being pursued by the governments of 26 countries and eight elder dragons.
"······."
Though it would have been frustrating to be mistaken for 'Theo Christiansen,' Minjun didn't bother to correct him. Instead, he silently hatched a happy bug from his finger and shoved it up the mage's nostrils. As always, he took the most efficient approach.
But then…
Drip!
This time, things didn't go as smoothly as Minjun had hoped. A trickle of fresh blood fell from the mage's nostrils. Minjun clicked his tongue as he saw the happy bug, already dead, washed out alongside it.
'As expected, dealing with people like those in the Society is on another level. Is this some kind of secret society?'
He had planted resistance mechanisms in the brains of the organization members. To disarm it, one would have to dig through their brains, which would ultimately result in killing them. This method was blocked.
The mage chuckled darkly, as blood foamed at the corners of his mouth.
"Heh, don't waste your time. That bug won't work on me."
With difficulty, he continued.
"You're not thinking of torturing me for information, are you? Compared to you, I may be weak, but I am a black mage. I can't be made to speak through such methods. Don't waste your effort."
Due to the nature of their training, black mages were known for being accustomed to pain. Minjun, being one himself, knew this well. However, he had no intention of excluding that option.
Minjun muttered calmly,
"Ah, there's no other way. Looks like I'll have to torture you."
"Heh, useless..."
"Yeah, it's your fate. Why the hell did you implant that in your head? What now?"
There was an emotion in Minjun's voice that the mage hadn't anticipated. It wasn't arrogance, nor was it a tone meant to instill fear. For a moment, the mage felt an ominous premonition.
"The most pitiful bastard I've seen this year was a dragon."
Minjun took a black stone knife in his right hand, scratching his head with his left, and began to tell a story the mage would never understand.
"A dragon, almost a thousand years old, was being hunted, trying to escape to another world. But just a day late, it was caught and killed. It was beaten to death. A dragon that had lived for almost nine hundred years, killed just because it was a day late. Isn't that a headache?"
The mage couldn't understand the context of the story, but one thing was clear—Minjun was confident. He believed he could make the mage spill the information he wanted.
"But... looks like you'll be the one to update today."
Slowly, Minjun moved the black knife closer, clicking his tongue as he did.
"Honestly, you would have been better off planting a bug in your brain and dying cleanly. Tsk."
Minjun, having lived over 800 years as a black mage, was the best at torturing black mages.
If anyone knew how to do it, it was Minjun.
"!?"
A creeping sense of fear rose. The mage saw Minjun's expression, one of sympathy, in his eyes. It looked genuine, and the realization sent shivers down his spine.
And the moment Minjun's knife pressed against the old mage's skin—
The mage regretted being born.
"Yes, hello? This is Minjun."
After some time, Minjun was making a phone call in a room thick with the smell of blood.
On the other end of the line was the secretary of Jenkinson.
"I'm not usually the type to give progress reports like this, but… I thought it might be something you should know before we go any further."
Minjun held a flip phone in his right hand, while with his empty left hand, he created a faint flame to wash away the blood and oil. He spoke calmly while staring at the flickering flames.
To get straight to the point, here's what happened.
The wizard knew that the Human Rights Coalition had planned to make a move on Jenkinson, but he hadn't participated in it, nor did he know any of the details.
Due to the secretive nature of the organization, divided into countless cells, he had no knowledge of the details of operations he wasn't involved in.
To get that information, they would need to extract it from the higher-ups, but the problem was that this wizard didn't have the authority to do that. He was just a level of employee who would move according to the orders handed down. He had no way of contacting the other direction.
But that didn't mean today's effort yielded no results.
"Soon, the Human Rights Coalition will cause a major incident."
He didn't know the exact date or method, but he knew who the target was.
"You know the Princess Shtan, right? The alien who entered the country a few days ago. Yes. They plan to go after her. I'm not sure if it'll be a kidnapping or an assassination, but the reason is... they're trying to stop the eighth wave of mass immigration."
The important part was that the Human Rights Coalition was treating this operation as a very high priority, and they were planning to mobilize huge figures.
Some of them were likely the very individuals involved in the bank heist.
"Now, do you understand why I called you?"
The immigration office had to make a choice.
There had been reports of a terrorist threat against the alien princess, who was treated as a VIP.
The rational course of action would be to cancel all her appointments and immediately send her back to her original dimension. They could also allow an exception to the terminal blockade for her entourage, since she was an alien VIP.
However, if they did that, the Human Rights Coalition would go back into hiding. They would lose their target.
"What will you do?"
Minjun asked.
Would they send the alien guest back for protection, or use her as bait to capture the thieves who had stolen Jenkinson's fortune?
Minjun thought that this question was beyond Blair's authority, and expected an answer to go ask Jenkinson.
However…
"Understood. Agent Minjun, I'm sorry, but may I add something to the request?"
Contrary to his expectation, Blair immediately voiced what she wanted.
After hanging up, Minjun shrugged his shoulders.
"Looks like they're really prepared this time."
As he hung up the receiver, a faint voice of an old man, mumbling beyond the thick scent of blood, could be heard.
"Ju… Juyeoju... Juyouju…"
Crack!
Minjun threw a ceremonial dagger at the now-useless man's forehead, fulfilling his wish, and then pondered.
'Did I make a mistake?'
He thought for a moment before changing his mind.
The situation was escalating, becoming more complicated, and it seemed like it was going to be more of a hassle for him... but since he had put in the effort, he could always charge the costs thoroughly afterward.
Minjun didn't worry about Jenkinson's balance.
'If it's not enough, he'll borrow it and pay it back, I suppose.'
He knew that being a dragon was proof of strong credit in the eyes of the banks from another world.
"Hello. You must be Agent Minjun, right?"
Minjun shook hands with the Dwarven woman in the hotel lobby at Samsung Station. She was named Olga and was the interpreter for Princess Vermi.
"I was so surprised when the immigration office suddenly offered to increase the security team. The princess is very satisfied. I heard you're one of the highest-rated agents in the country's immigration office?"
Minjun nodded absently and followed Olga into the elevator. When she pressed the button for the top floor, the ground quickly disappeared behind the transparent elevator walls. Minjun muttered to himself as he watched the scene.
'Guarding Princess Shtan, huh. Really… doing all sorts of things.'
What Blair had asked of him was simple. She wanted him to take over the security of Princess Vermi from now on.
He had originally thought she would refuse, thinking it didn't suit him or that Jenkinson hadn't requested such a mission.
'They want to use the alien VIP as bait in front of the enemies. I guess they're not satisfied with the current level of security.'
The immigration office wanted to accomplish two difficult objectives.
They wanted to lure out the Human Rights Coalition by targeting Princess Vermi and ensure her safety at the same time.
And the only agent capable of achieving both was him, according to their calculations.
Minjun could feel the blank check in his pocket growing heavier each day.
'And I'm to keep this secret from the princess herself.'
He felt that Jenkinson and Blair were walking a dangerous tightrope, but no matter what happened, he would be paid for his efforts, so there was no risk for him.
Even if this event caused political turbulence between dimensions, he was confident he wouldn't be swept up in it. Paradoxically, if that happened, the committee, which he despised, would protect him. After all, prisoners were valuable assets to the committee.
While thinking this, the two arrived in front of the princess's room. The Dwarf knocked on the door.
"Princess, it's Olga. The new member of the security team has arrived."
The Dwarf held up a card key and opened the door.
"Excuse me."
Minjun stepped inside, following Olga's lead. Princess Vermi, who had been sitting on the sofa, looked up. At the same time, Bradley, who had been standing behind her, froze. His eyes widened, staring at the door. '…You?!'
Then, Princess Vermi and Minjun's eyes met.
"..."
The princess, who had been about to inhale, froze in place.
"?"
Today was supposed to be the last day the princess would stay at the hotel to recover from her dimensional sickness. Unlike when she had met Bradley, she was feeling much better now. She had opened all the windows in the Presidential Suite and was enjoying the fresh air after the rain had stopped.
As always, when the wind blew through the open windows and the door was opened, a gust of wind rushed through the room.
Swoosh!
The wind rushed toward the entrance, causing Minjun's bangs to flutter. He wore the same indifferent expression as always. While some teased that his eyes looked like those of a life-worn old man, others murmured that he had the look of a 'man with a story'—a look that lingered on the princess.
As he entered the room, the sensor lights above his head activated, casting a soft, golden glow, different from the harsh fluorescent lights of a typical home.
"Greetings. I will be serving you from today. Please take good care of me."
He offered the greeting flatly, and Olga translated it in a loud, metallic voice as she dragged a metal shelf across the concrete floor.
"..."
But the princess still said nothing.
"?"
As the silence stretched longer than expected, the Dwarf spoke again in a piercing voice. But the princess only stared at Minjun, slightly parting her lips in a dazed state.
At that moment.
'Huh?'
Minjun felt a strange, pungent odor mix with the familiar fishy smell in the room.
'Wait, what is this?'
As he identified the scent, Minjun couldn't help but frown.
'No way?'
It was one of the chemical smells his sensitive nose could detect without error.
'Why now? Is there another Shtan male nearby?'
He looked around but didn't sense any other creatures or pheromones from a different gender.
'?!'
That's when it hit him.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
A low, rhythmic sound like a drumbeat echoed through the room. It was the sound of valves clashing rapidly from the heartbeat of a certain species.
The source of the sound? Princess Vermi, who had turned rigid like a salt pillar in front of him.
'Wait, hold on.'
All the circumstantial evidence pointed toward one conclusion.
The pheromones filling the room were emanating from the princess herself.
She had fallen in love with 'someone' in this moment.