All monsters in this world were based on real animals. Even the Karbe, though it breathed fire, was ultimately still sheep in its origin.
But dragons were something else entirely. A true creature of imagination, impossible to categorize.
If I had to classify it, it would be a giant reptile. A giant reptile.
...Reptiles are already extraordinary, but a giant reptile? I didn’t know a phrase could be this beautiful.
I pressed my left chest where my heart was pounding and tracked the source of the commotion. It was the first time in my life I’d ever chased someone because I wanted to talk to them.
“Hey, wait a second.”
The two flinched and turned. Up close, I could see they wore dirty aprons tied at the waist. I hadn’t met many people since coming here, but they were certainly the most shabby-looking so far.
“Ceryl, hello. Do you have orders for us...?”
Kallen, with her orange hair tinted faintly red, watched me carefully. Judging by her polite speech and clothing, her rank was low.
She seemed tense at the sudden appearance of a senior administrator, but I didn’t care and cut straight to the point.
“You’re going to feed the dragon?”
“...Yes? We were just about to...”
“Can I go instead?”
Kallen stared wide-eyed. She exchanged a look with her coworker, then asked in a puzzled tone:
“I’m sorry, Ceryl, but the dragon isn’t due for execution yet.”
“I’m not saying I want to kill it. I want to feed it.”
“...Sorry? What do you mean by that?”
Were humans in this world low-intelligence, or did my transmigration language patch fail? Why were they not understanding me?
“I said I’ll feed the dragon. Seems like neither of you want to do it anyway.”
“So then why—”
“How many times do I have to say the same thing? Do I need to say it directly into your ear?”
I was trying not to get irritated. I really was. But the unnecessary questioning stirred up frustration.
Kallen scanned my face carefully, then stepped back and clasped her hands together.
“...Excuse me, Ceryl, but... why are you speaking to me politely?”
“...What?”
“And deciding to go to the dragon so suddenly—did you receive instructions from Jed?”
Ah. So the original Ceryl didn’t use polite speech. And Jed... was apparently someone important.
The confusion on her face hardened into suspicion. She exchanged another glance with her coworker, then pressed her thin lips.
“May I report what you just said to Jed?”
“No.”
I didn’t know what she was referring to exactly, but no felt like the right answer. I also switched to the casual tone she expected.
But it was already too late. Kallen shot me a sharp look and hurried off.
I had gotten too excited about seeing a dragon. I shouldn’t have acted before understanding how things worked here.
Ah... I’m screwed.
***
The next morning, I was summoned by Jed Kardo. He held the highest authority here, with his own private office in the main building at the very back of the facility.
Jed sat upright in a pressed uniform. Late thirties, sharp silver glasses, short gray hair, white gloves.
His appearance alone radiated force. He even called me here only to ignore me and continue reading paperwork for a long while.
My temper wanted to slam his desk, but I had promised myself last night not to act recklessly. I repeated stay calm over and over.
After what felt like thirty minutes, Jed finally put down the papers and looked at me. His eyes were the same cold gray as his hair.
“Ceryl. Why are you trying to make contact with the dragon?”
“......”
“Do you have a reason you cannot say?”
The interval between questions was less than three seconds. He was interrogating me. In times like this, opening my mouth carelessly would only worsen things.
Just like with Kallen, my attempt to see the dragon was being treated as suspect.
Makes sense. Dragons were the only monsters capable of taking ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) human form—and the ones who had driven humanity to the brink of extinction. Of course they would be strictly monitored.
Jed stared with an emotionless gaze. And I remembered the atmosphere of this novel.
In this world, not only monsters but human lives were considered cheaper than flies. Death was everywhere—so much that the pages themselves smelled like blood.
I looked back at Jed.
“Why can’t you answer?”
Look at his eyes. He’s exactly that kind of person.
If I made one wrong move, this second life would end before it even started. My throat tightened as I swallowed dryly.
It was all or nothing. If the only thing I could lose was my life, then I needed to be shameless and bold.
“Jed. Do you know how long I’ve worked here?”
At that confident bait, Jed’s gray eyes gleamed and his mouth curved faintly.
“Ceryl. I am not ignoring the effort you’ve put in over the last three years. But a report was filed. I am following procedure.”
That one sentence told me a lot.
Requesting contact with the dragon as a non-designated handler was reportable.
And I was being suspected of something. Of what?
I dug up hazy original details. If it involved humans and dragons—
“You’re suspecting me of being a Rebel, aren’t you.”
“...So you knew how to play the opening move.”
As expected. Rebels were humans who sided with the dragons—seeking dragon victory and full liberation of monsters.
I remembered clearly. As a reader, my heart had also been with the rebels.
But now that I was a character, the situation was different. Even being suspected of rebellion meant immediate execution.
I mustered the most regretful expression I could. Cold sweat slid down my back, but as long as it didn’t show, it didn’t matter.
“That’s disappointing. I’ve devoted myself to my duties for three years, and yet one comment about wanting to see the dragon gets me treated as a rebel.”
Jed rested his chin in one hand.
“That’s not the only reason.”
“...Then?”
“Last week, you sentenced three monsters to execution—but you haven’t carried out the executions. That’s never happened before.”
Ceryl, you slaughter-obsessed bastard. Three executions a week? Was it a Monday-Wednesday-Friday rotation?
“And three years ago, you refused dragon management entirely. You said just thinking about that creature disgusted you. Told us to notify you only when it was time to kill it. Am I misremembering?”
So the original Ceryl was a dragon hater? Incredible.
Anyway, I wasn’t acting like the original, so suspicion made sense. I understood the situation.
Now... how to get out of it.
“Why are you hesitating to execute monsters now? And why seek contact with the dragon?”
“......”
“If you’re not a rebel, I’m quite curious what changed.”
Silence. Jed waited, perfectly calm.
My heartbeat rose from tension. If I spoke now, my voice might tremble like Yangsooni’s.
...Yangsooni! You saved me!
“I succeeded in taming the Karbe.”
At my urgent tone, Jed leaned back with interest.
“Continue.”
“Weak, injured monsters are easier to tame. They have more vulnerabilities than healthy ones. If we can tame damaged monsters, it’s more beneficial than killing them.”
“Only now?”
“Humans are creatures that learn and grow.”
It was a convincing lie. But Jed didn’t fully buy it. He tapped the desk, calculating.
He should just accept it. My stiff cheek twitched. I glanced around the office.
What would entice him?
Plaques. Badges aligned on his chest. Award displays across the wall.
A man obsessed with honor—no, with prestige.
“If the 5th Facility tames the world’s first dragon?”
“.......”
“We wouldn’t be a border discard pen anymore. We’d become the 1st Monster Containment Facility. No—the Monster Academy.”
Bullseye. Light flickered in his gray eyes.
After a moment of mental arithmetic, Jed smiled. Despite the neat appearance, it was a greedy expression.
“Just hearing it is satisfying.”
“But—”
“But I still can’t trust your will or ability.”
“I reported taming the Karbe.”
“And we don’t know if that was skill, or coincidence.”
Fine. Fair point.
“And you still haven’t proven you’re not a rebel.”
Okay, not fair.
How was I supposed to prove a negative? This bastard had never heard of presumption of innocence.
“Ceryl, it seems you’ll have much to do.”
Dismissal. Jed returned to his papers, lips faintly raised.
At least he wasn’t killing me right now. My throat finally loosened.
I bowed slightly and turned to leave. Then last night’s mistake replayed in my mind.
Why did I get so excited? What was so great about a dragon? I got myself into this mess for that?
At best, a giant reptile...
No, a giant reptile...
“...Jed. I have something to ask.”
I released the doorknob and turned back. Survival instincts had already given up—my mind was elsewhere.
Damn it. What would a giant reptile look like up close? Smooth scales, strong flexible musculature. What about the spine? The tongue? A forked tongue? Imagine if it had venom glands. That would be thrilling. And the tail. Shorter than a snake’s, used for balance? Just imagining it—what an adorable creature. And if dragons were reptiles, they’d be ectothermic. Unable to maintain their own body temperature. I’d have to hold it close.
“If I prove it wasn’t coincidence, grant me full authority over dragon management.”
“...That will be difficult.”
The reason I came to this world was unknown. I had no purpose anyway.
Then in this second life—fine. I would meet the giant reptile. And die if necessary. At least I’d die beautifully.
I slammed my hands on the desk, violet eyes sharply lifted.
“Give me the dragon.”
