I’m an Immigration Officer!

The impostor twisted his body and bolted in the opposite direction.
I leapt off my horse without hesitation and sprinted after him.

“C-Chief Inspector!?”
The Gustatory Inspector called out in shock.
I shouted without looking back:

“Send five cavalrymen to the bridge to report the situation! The rest, split left and right! Flank the area and close him in!”
Now that he’d abandoned the carriage, it would be nearly impossible to predict his escape route.
Which meant the only option was to move fast—trap him in before he could slip through.
“Inspector of Taste! Inspector of Smell! Cover the left and right flanks!”

“What about you, Chief Inspector!?”
“This officer will pursue directly!”
Even the frenzied Olfactory Inspector hesitated at that.

“You can’t fight! You shouldn’t go!”
“And what, stand by and watch that bastard escape!?”
But if the suspect was using my face, even one second of delay could be catastrophic.

In the territory of Duke Reyes, my face was well known.
There were only five Immigration Officers in the entire South, and as the border’s commanding officer, I wasn’t exactly anonymous.
Which meant he could weaponize my identity to slip through our net.
I had to stop him before that happened.

The Olfactory Inspector growled, clearly displeased, but relented.
“…Damn it. Then at least take three riders with you! And please, keep your distance from the smuggler!”
“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to pay for your funeral!”
Considering how he dodged tracking and knocked me out with one hit earlier… he wasn’t just some street punk.
If I recklessly rushed in again, I might not wake up next time.
I nodded at his warning.

“Understood. Let’s move!”
With no time to spare, the two inspectors and their teams split off in opposite directions.
“You five—follow this officer!”
“This way! Move!”

– Thududududu.
I turned to the riders behind me and shouted:
“Take the lead! He’s dangerous—keep your eyes sharp! This officer will follow close behind!”

“Yes, sir!”
Up ahead, the fake me—still wearing my Immigration Officer’s uniform—veered sharply left just before reaching Lacour Bridge.
“There! That man in the officer uniform!”

But not a second later, he spotted the Gustatory Inspector’s team cutting in from a side street—
—and immediately switched direction, turning right.
“Grrrr! You’re not getting away this time!”
The furious Olfactory Inspector burst out from another alley, flanked by mounted troops.

“Tch…!”
The impostor looked around frantically.
His gaze locked onto something.

A building. Its doors shut tight.
Without a moment’s hesitation—
– SLAM!

He kicked the door in and disappeared inside.
“The smuggler’s entered a building!”
“Go in! Block all exits!”
The cavalry leapt off their horses, ready to storm in.

“Stop! Hold it!”
I cut them off mid-charge.
“Do NOT enter! Stand down!”

“But sir! This is our chance—he’s cornered! A rat in a trap! We need to act now!”
“No. That’s an order.”
I repeated it with authority, and only then did the soldiers, still bristling, freeze in place.

“If we rush in now… we have no idea what he’s capable of.”
This wasn’t some petty crook.
If he managed to abduct the Saintess, he was likely strong enough to take on Holy Knights.
Charging in blindly could end in disaster.

“Even with numbers on our side—even if we’ve driven him into a corner—we cannot afford to be careless.”
A confined space. Darkness.
It was the perfect stage for an assassin.

On top of that, forcing cavalry to dismount and fight indoors?
That was a massive handicap.
Which meant… he may have deliberately chosen that building.
To maximize his advantage.

And then there was what the Olfactory Inspector said earlier…
“I don’t want to pay for your funeral.”
A crude warning—but an honest one.

It helped clear my head.
Yeah. I don’t want to pay for theirs either.
The moment I saw someone using my face, I lost my cool.
But who could blame me?

Someone impersonating you, trying to break through your net?
Staying calm isn’t easy.
But chasing him down like that—without a plan—was a clear mistake.

What the hell was I thinking? I can’t even fight.
Even the Olfactory Inspector tried to stop me.
If I really thought about it—this ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) was exactly what the enemy wanted.

If we get emotional, if we overheat… we make mistakes. We leave openings.
This was no different from actual immigration screening.
One side tries to sneak through.
The other tries to stop them.

The one who keeps their cool—wins.
Stay calm, stay grounded.
If you don’t get shaken, you won’t fall.
If you don’t fall, you don’t lose.
And when you don’t lose—your enemy does.

That was the foundational mindset of an Immigration Officer.
To think I forgot that… Maybe the Northern Commander was right. I still reek of rookie.
I let out a short sigh, steadied my breath, then turned to the troops.

“You’re right. He’s cornered now. A rat in a trap.
Which means there’s no need to rush.”
He locked himself in.
As long as we don’t play into his hands, we’ve already won.

In fact, he just tightened the noose around himself.
– Thudududu.
As the Olfactory Inspector and Gustatory Inspector circled in from both flanks, I issued the final order:

“Recall all units from the dead-end sector. We’re surrounding this building.”
“There’s nowhere left for him to run.”
 

****
“…Why aren’t they coming in?”
Shahal glanced cautiously through the second-floor window.

This building… it was perfect. A place made for ambushes and sudden strikes.
She’d picked it hastily, sure—but the narrow corridors, the multitude of rooms, the thick shadows clinging to every corner? The moment she stepped inside, the plan for payback had practically written itself.
“With how that Immigration Officer lost his cool, I figured he’d be the first one barging in.”

If someone who couldn’t fight to save his life was charging in like that, his subordinates were bound to be even more reckless.
She’d already laid out makeshift traps and scouted ambush points. The goal was simple—whittle down their numbers before slipping away.
But twenty minutes passed.

And no one entered.
Instead, more and more soldiers started appearing on the surrounding streets.
“Damn it… what the hell are they plotting?”

Her nerves beginning to fray, Shahal bit her nail and looked down at the bag in her hands.
A soft, trembling squeal came from within.
“Prruuu…”

— It’s alright, Saintess.
Her voice was oddly tender.
— No matter what happens… you're going to the North.

As if reassuring both her captive and herself, she added:
— I need what’s in your head. No matter the cost.
 

****
Roughly twenty minutes later.
A cavalryman rode up to me.

— The perimeter is secure, sir!
— Situation report.
— Yes, sir. We've gathered fifty of our cavalry and sixty infantry stationed on nearby roads. The building is now completely surrounded.

I swept my gaze across the area.
He was right — nearly a hundred armed men stood around the building in a solid ring, every one of them tense, eyes locked forward.
He grinned with confidence.

— Not even a rat’s getting out of there.
— Excellent.
The routes toward here and the Lakur Bridge had both been sealed off.

Perfect.
The final containment net was in place.
Only one step remained.

— A-hem!
I raised my voice.
— Mr. Sota, currently inside the building! Can you hear me?

Sota was probably an alias. But it’s the only name I knew — so I used it.
No response.
— You are surrounded. There is no escape.

Still nothing.
— This is your final chance to surrender. Disarm yourself and turn yourself in along with the strategic lifeform.
Silence.

— If you keep resisting, you will be captured regardless. Let’s avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Come out peacefully.
Nothing.
The soldiers exchanged glances.

— Persistent bastard.
— I’d have surrendered already.
I waited a moment longer, hoping—then shook my head.

— No other choice, then.
From a humanitarian standpoint, we’d done our due diligence.
Which meant there was only one step left.

— We’ll proceed with forced entry.
A cavalryman stepped forward eagerly.
— We’ll storm in and subdue the target. Leave it to us!

— No. I have someone better suited for the job.
— Someone… better suited?
The soldiers can’t go in.

That’s exactly what the target wants — for us to come running into his trap.
Besides, these are Duke Reyes’ men. Letting them bleed unnecessarily would be… politically expensive.
Thankfully, we had someone for situations like this.

Someone perfect.
I called the name:
— Olfactory Inspector Blaszek.

— Grrrrrrrr…
He stepped forward, just barely keeping his instincts in check.
Saliva dripped from his fangs. He looked ready to rip something apart.

I asked him:
— You lost him once. Can you take him down this time?
His voice was low, rough, and full of bite.

— Was that… a real question?
He didn’t even try to hide his rage.
Just the barest veneer of formality remained.

— No matter how far prey runs… it always ends up in my jaws.
His claws gleamed, unsheathed and twitching. He wasn’t bothering to hold back anymore.
He’d caught the scent of blood once and still lost the target. Worse — he hadn’t even protected his commanding officer.

That failure, I suspected, had ignited something primal in him.
This was no longer the cheerful, friendly inspector everyone knew.
“A werewolf right before he snaps…”

Perfect.
I allowed myself a faint smile and gestured to the door.
— Go. Just keep the pig alive. Everything else… is fair game.

The werewolf kicked the door down and charged inside.
 
****

— KRAAAANG!!
An earsplitting explosion.
— AARGHHH!
— GAAAH! That damn muttwolf—!

Screams. Roars.
— CLANG! CHINK!
Horrific shrieks of metal grinding and shearing.

Flashes and impacts burst from inside the shadowed building, each one making the soldiers flinch.
— Wh-What the hell is going on in there…?
— Shh. They say when werewolves go berserk, they’re worse than demons.
— No, but seriously… it sounds like someone set off a damn bomb.
Whispers rippled through the ranks, all tinged with unease.

— Guess the rumors were true. I heard he’s been under a lot of stress lately.
— Yeah, and always trying to leave work early, too…
Only two of us looked unfazed.
Me — and the Gustatory Inspector.

— Um… sir? Is it… really okay for that werewolf to go in alone? Who is he, anyway…?
One of the soldiers couldn’t keep the tension out of his voice, but before he could finish—
— BAM!

A wall exploded inward.
And there stood the Olfactory Inspector, Blaszek.
His gray fur was soaked in blood.

— Grghh… V-victory…
He spat thick saliva into the dust, stumbling forward through the haze.
The moment the soldiers saw him, fear gave way to awe.

— O-Ohhh!
— That’s a werewolf for you… Took the bastard down!
Blaszek didn’t respond. He just raised a clenched fist high into the air.
A perfect victory pose.

The kind that says: I fought. I won. I lived.
But I narrowed my eyes. So did the Gustatory Inspector.
— Hm.
— Mmm…

Something’s wrong.
A real werewolf, mid-hunt, doesn’t act that calm after a kill.
No predator sits still after a fresh hunt.

They howl. Bite. Lick. Feast.
They celebrate.
I locked eyes with the Gustatory Inspector.

She gave the tiniest shake of her head — only I would notice.
I stepped forward and held up my hand.
— Hold it right there, Inspector.

— …What?
A curt, gruff reply.
I spoke evenly.

— You’re bleeding badly. Are you hurt?
— Tough prey. Or should I say… prey-ess? Whatever. She’s dead now, anyway.
He chuckled and shrugged like it was no big deal.

— And the suspect?
— Second floor. Back room.
He motioned upward as if swatting a fly.

— Now move. I need rest.
That’s when I struck.
— Wuf-wuf-wuf, grrrrrr huff-huff? (So, where’s the Saintess?)

In the language of werewolves.
— …What?
A confused look. A slight tilt of the head.

That was all I needed.
The Gustatory Inspector shouted:
— It’s a fake!!!

And I followed immediately:
— She’s the suspect! She’s disguised herself as the Olfactory Inspector!
— KRASH!!

This time, it was the opposite wall that shattered—
And the real Olfactory Inspector burst through.
— BLOOOOOOOD!!!

Eyes glowing, he stared down his doppelgänger.
— THIS HUNT ISN’T OVER!!!
His roar cracked through the street like thunder.

Everyone froze.
— LET ME TASTE WOLVEN MEAT, YOU BASTARD!!! TODAY’S A DAMN FEAST DAY!!!
That’s the real Blaszek.

Untouched. Foaming. Every muscle coiled.
That is how a predator acts mid-hunt.
— Yup. That’s our Olfactory Inspector.
— No mistaking him now.

Only then did we both nod in satisfaction.
— A f-fake?!
— She’s an impostor! Everyone, draw your weapons!
The soldiers, now realizing the truth, instantly raised their blades and surrounded the copy.

The fake Olfactory Inspector looked dead at me.
Breath ragged. Expression hollowed.
— What… what are you?

The voice had changed.
Female.
Her violet eyes burned with pain, fear… and a strange fascination.

Her body started shifting — the fur receding, limbs thinning.
Wounds became clearer, deeper.
A young woman with pale lavender hair collapsed to her knees, bloodied and beaten.

Blaszek must’ve torn her apart.
There was hardly anything left untouched.
— What kind of… monster are you… to corner me like this…?

She muttered, like none of this made sense.
— Why… why would you chase me this far? You’re just… a stupid Immigration Officer…
I let a beat of silence fall.

Then answered calmly:
— You didn’t clear Immigration.
She blinked. Once. Twice.

— …That’s it?
— You tried to enter illegally. We’re the ones who’d have to answer for that.
What kind of Immigration Officer lets a border crosser slip through?

It’d be a disaster. A scandal.
She stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
— That’s why you did all this? You mobilized the entire border force… for that?

She pointed at Blaszek, who was still flexing like he was just getting started.
— And that nutjob over there is going berserk because of that? Just that?
Well. It’s not just that.

You kidnapped a Saintess.
You knocked me out.
You’re holding someone who could save my life at trial tomorrow.

You're about to destroy the Day of Safety.
I was already pissed.
And I really don’t want to file a report to the Minister.

So yeah… there’s a lot going on.
But none of it is your business.
You get one answer.

— Yes.
— Hah… insane.
She let out a dry, hollow laugh.

— I really got myself caught up with lunatics.
And with that, her eyes rolled back — and she passed out from blood loss.
— AWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Blaszek's triumphant howl ripped through the skies.
And just like that, the pig hunt was over.