The Foreigner on the Periphery (English Translation)

5. Three Ways to Kill Your Boss (2)

The smell of excrement and urine pierced the air.

Minjun stared at the body hanging motionless under the shadow of the tree. The face, drenched in a mess, looked so disfigured that it was hard to understand how the spirit could recognize it as the same person in the photograph. Judging by the condition, it seemed like the body had been hanging there for a day or two.

He checked the fingerprints.

'It matches.'

The spirit had confirmed it, and the location Lakefield had provided was a small mountain on the outskirts of Seoul.

Here, Minjun faced the body hanging from a tree.

In the back pocket, a neatly folded letter was tucked in. He unfolded it and quickly read through it. The letter, which began with an apology to those around him, mentioned that CEO Jang Taejoon had been suffering from depression for a long time and had sought treatment and prescriptions in secret. He believed he could no longer endure it and, after much thought, had made the drastic decision to end his life.

The letter also contained instructions on how the funeral should proceed and how inheritance matters should be handled, indicating that he had discussed these matters with a lawyer during his life and had stored a legally binding will in a separate location, which should be followed.

'A major company shareholder and CEO took his own life due to personal reasons...'

Minjun looked up at the body again.

"Really…"

A soft murmur.

"Nicely done."

When sending the spirit, Lakefield had given a simple command: to find someone who looked exactly like the person in the photo. The face now before him was hard to recognize as resembling the one in the photograph, but it seemed the spirit had the ability to deduce the body's state before it was damaged. Additionally, the spirit had an uncanny ability to detect subtle energies that an ordinary person would never notice.

The old spirit said, "Such a thing can't be called human." The spirit, unified with its senses, could tell immediately.

This body might look human, but it was not.

"Homunculus."

A flask-grown human.

It must have used information like CEO Jang Taejoon's DNA for identification. If examined in this state, the results would confirm it as him. The homunculus body was nearly identical to a real human.

Meanwhile, the spirit failed to find the real Jang Taejoon, even after retrying. This raised many questions in Minjun's mind.

'Why did they hang a fake body after the disappearance was reported and a week of waiting? And why, instead of leaving it at home, did they choose this remote mountain?'

To figure this out, he needed to tackle a more fundamental issue.

'What could have caused this? Who would do something like this?'

Minjun decided to hypothesize that Jang Taejoon was an alien.

In that case, who would benefit the most if his death—more precisely, his 'human' death—were revealed now?

'The heir mentioned in the will, who isn't connected by blood.'

On the other hand, who would suffer?

The nation, which couldn't reclaim the assets of an alien masquerading as human through illegal means.

'So, who did it?'

Whether it was at Jang Taejoon's request or not, such an event couldn't be orchestrated by just any major corporation. In this day and age, no one would grow a homunculus in a flask—not without massive resources, and only someone from Korea's top seven conglomerates could pull this off.

'This is getting way too big.'

Another question arose: What value did this company's stock have that someone would go to such lengths to fabricate this situation? Minjun hesitated briefly on whether to continue investigating.

But he soon made a tentative decision.

'I'll dig a little more. If I can't find proof of him being an alien, I'll pull out.'

The reason he didn't give up now was simple: high risk, high return.

If he could prove the involvement of aliens in such a big case, he could extract a substantial reward from the immigration department and potentially pass on a large debt. Of course, he'd also receive a hefty sum from his real employer.

Minjun checked the time: 5 p.m. It was tight, but he decided to make a few calls.

"Hey, Suyeong. Send me a coffin. ...It's about time to wake up. The sun's almost down, so stop complaining. Yeah, that's right. I'll send you the location. No, it's clean. Doesn't smell much. No, it's not undead. I'm telling you! I'll guarantee it. The coffin won't be damaged. Okay, thanks."

Next, he called Cassie.

"Did the immigration department still not get their hands on CEO Jang Taejoon's will?"

"Yeah, it seems difficult."

If the homunculus body were handed over to the police, his death would be confirmed, and the will would be made public. However, this was not what Minjun's employer wanted.

But, if he could check the contents before it was revealed, he might find a clue. Of course, strictly speaking, this was illegal.

"Where's the will stored?"

The immigration department was likely trying unusual means to access it, but Minjun could use even more unorthodox methods. He was ready to take matters into his own hands if necessary...

"Changcheon Bank's main branch VIP vault."

As soon as he heard this, Minjun discarded his plan in his mind.

"That's why immigration is struggling."

If it was the same level of bank involved in the recent robbery, Minjun might have had a chance to make something happen. But this place was impregnable—no matter what he did, he couldn't break in. Even if he died and came back to life, it wouldn't work.

"I see. Forget about the will for now. Instead, I need to check out CEO Jang Taejoon's house."

His request was passed through immigration to the company managing the house. The next day, Minjun, on schedule, headed to a high-end residential area, where he would run into an unexpected person.

"Huh? What are you doing here, Hyung?"

"What's going on, Jeongpali?"

It was Officer Park Jeongpali, whom he had met a few days ago during the bank robbery case.

When the two organizations had expressed interest in inspecting the house simultaneously, the staff at the management company, unable to grasp the situation, was awkward, but at the instruction to leave them to it, they happily disappeared.

Jeongpali seemed to quickly understand the situation.

"Wait, is this a double booking?"

Jeongpali was also investigating the disappearance of CEO Jang Taejoon. Immigration and the National Police Agency were each pursuing separate routes in the investigation.

"Wait a sec. I'll sort it out."

"There's nothing to sort out, you'll just have me assist you. ...Ah! So that's what Team Leader 2 was doing!"

Jeongpali let out a hollow laugh, as if he'd caught on to something. Meanwhile, Minjun made a call to Cassie and waited calmly. Then...

"...Yes, yes. Understood."

After receiving the call, Jeongpali spoke with a slightly darker expression.

"From now on, I'll follow you and fully cooperate."

The coordination between immigration and the police was sorted. Jeongpali had figured out why Team Leader 2 had manipulated the situation to dump the case on him. He had sensed something beforehand.

'If the case is solved, the credit might go to immigration, so he backed off completely. He didn't want to do any grunt work.'

The officer had listened to his complaints and passed the responsibility on to Jeongpali, without offering any explanation.

In fact, cooperating with immigration wasn't a big deal. Minjun wasn't a stranger to them, having owed them a few favors. But his feelings toward the officer and Team Leader 2 were less than favorable.

'Bastards.'

Was that the only disappointment from his time with the police? Jeongpali suppressed his emotions. Minjun seemed to have caught onto the shift in the situation.

"Though it might sound harsh, I'm glad it's you who's sticking with me. It's better than working with those incompetent guys. If we handle this well, let's split the reward."

"Ah, forget it. Let's just go out for a drink. What's there between us?"

With that, the two of them began searching the house. Minjun focused on looking for magical traces, while Jeongpali extracted data from various electronics.

"Hyung, I'll share the hard drive copy with you by tomorrow."

"Yeah, thanks."

Then, as they entered the room next to the kitchen...

"What's that sound?"

"What?"

Minjun followed the sound and searched the room, but there was nothing special.

"Didn't you hear it? A faint humming sound."

"I didn't hear anything."

But Minjun had clearly heard a soft sound.

"Hm, it's stopped now. Could it have been my imagination? No way... Wait a sec!"

Minjun quickly placed his finger to his lips and spoke.

Shh, be quiet."

The sound had grown a little louder than before, and the vibrating hum of the air lingered somewhere inside the house. Jeongpal, who had been listening with a puzzled expression, seemed to have noticed it too.

Woowoo!

"Huh? Brother, this sounds like sword ringing (劍鳴), doesn't it?"

Before working in the police, he'd handled swords a bit, so he seemed to recognize the sound.

"Really? There must be an ego sword inside the house. As expected, a lot of money here."

'Wait a second!' A light bulb seemed to go off in Minjun's head.

"This could be a clue!"

Jeongpal's eyes lit up with excitement. He began moving quietly, focusing all his attention on his hearing. His gaze, following the sound, stopped at one point.

"Could it be that?"

What he was staring at wasn't the expected sword, but a single-hand frying pan hanging above the kitchen sink.

"Hmm."

Upon closer inspection, there was no doubt. The surface of the frying pan, untouched by anyone, was vibrating slightly, creating a gentle hum. Jeongpal carefully grabbed the handle.

"Ugh!"

He dropped it in panic within a second. He'd pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned, and the frying pan hit the tile floor with an unpleasant metallic clash.

"Jeez! What's wrong?!"

"Brother!"

"What? Did it say something?"

"Yes! It did!"

"..."

Minjun muttered to himself. Was it not an ego sword, but an ego frying pan?

Like a rice cooker that plays a recorded voice when a button is pressed, giving an ego like that wouldn't be too difficult.

But it was highly likely that it wasn't at a level that could serve as testimony, as Minjun wanted.

"Why throw it if you're going to say something?"

"No, this bastard... I mean, this frying pan is making weird noises!"

Goosebumps rose on Jeongpal's arms, and Minjun, moving toward him, picked up the frying pan from the floor.

And he threw it right back down.

"Ugh, damn!"

A curse slipped out involuntarily.

"What the hell, is this thing?!"

Minjun now understood exactly why Jeongpal had reacted that way, and he couldn't help but do the same. As soon as he grabbed the handle, a strange telepathy filled his mind with an intense heat.

=Ah!=

It was a mental wave that inevitably conjured up associations. Minjun, fighting the urge to wash his hands with soap, picked up the frying pan again.

Then another similar telepathy came.

=Aiing!=

When translated to language, it was a sound mixed with a sensual nasal tone and a desperate moan. This time, Minjun managed not to throw it, but he asked the frying pan in a very unpleasant tone.

"What are you?"

Whether it had learned Korean or had some mental communication ability, the frying pan answered.

=Ah, sniff! I'm sorry. It's been so long since I've touched someone's skin…=

"...What?"

=I've been gathering dust here for so long, I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry, sniff!=

Minjun thought quietly to himself. Should he just throw it away?

But if this frying pan had been left here all this time, it might have witnessed the events happening in this house. Also, Minjun had quickly realized that the ego residing in it had a remarkably high level of completeness. Despite the unpleasant feeling.

It was nearly comparable to any standard ego sword.

'This makes it even more unlikely that Jang Taejun is an ordinary human. This... this isn't something easily found on Earth!'

What kind of insane Earthling would invest such care in a frying pan, not a sword?

Minjun suppressed his psychological resistance and continued trying to communicate.

"I'll ask again. What are you?"

=Thank you for asking! Sob… Who am I? I am the representative chef of the Elidom dimension, an artificial intelligence cooking tool that has copied parts of the consciousness and memory of Dignob Alcha-Teiq, the renowned chef!=

At that moment, a mental image of a chef's face appeared in Minjun's mind. It was a middle-aged, hairy troll, smiling as he held the frying pan. His body was covered in tough muscles, showing off horns that symbolized masculinity. It looked like an advertising profile picture.

'So, the one talking is the artificial intelligence that copied the consciousness and memory of that chef.'

The frying pan didn't tire of sending more mental waves.

=I have not only 192 million recipes from 245 dimensions, but I also have a micro-vibration emission function that allows me to create perfect, exquisite dishes even if an amateur shakes me around… The secret weapon of housewives, the wizard of the kitchen! But that's not all. I can also observe and record objects within a 3-meter radius, so I can assist you in choosing the best ingredients by advising you while you look. Don't worry about communication either; I can understand and interpret any language through mental communication! Ahh, hmmm!=

Was it necessary for it to make that strange moaning sound every time it finished speaking? Minjun could feel his irritation rising.

"Did Jang Taejun use you himself?"

=Yes! He used me often… heh heh!=

Whether human or alien, Minjun was starting to think Jang Taejun wasn't exactly normal.

"I want to ask you about Jang Taejun."

=Yes! Of course. But before that… may I ask you a favor?=

Minjun asked gruffly.

"What is it?"

=Umm...=

Its mental wave was tinged with a shy emotion. Minjun had a bad feeling.

=Could you throw me on the floor again, like you did before? It's been so long, it was such a thrill... This ruthless, careless treatment, it's so nostalgic and gracious.=

"....."

=By the way, my main body is made of dark steel casting, so you don't have to worry about me bending or breaking no matter how hard you throw me. Ah, but maybe we should agree on a safe word first?=

"....."

=Please, just once… I beg you. Throw me again. I know being left alone isn't bad, but it's been too long. I need some stimulation.=

It seemed that when creating the artificial intelligence, they'd also copied the secret preferences of the famous chef Dignob Alcha-Teiq. Minjun seriously thought again.

Should he just throw it away? This thing?