You sprinted as fast as you could, still not fully understanding why you were suddenly chased by the group behind you. As you panted, regret flooded your heart, and you began to wonder why you strolled down that street.
You were on a mission with a clear directive from your superior. All you had to do was remain in the safe house and perform your task. Initially, you were willing to obey any instructions from your superior. After all, it was your first on-site mission, and you’ve been looking forward to coming here for a long time.
However, as the days went by, and you watched the people beyond your windows enjoying their lives, you wavered. You suppressed your desire to leave and devoted yourself to the task. After all, your mission was a noble one, and it is your duty to complete it. No distractions were allowed, but… you couldn’t resist.
One day, your superior declared they would be leaving the safehouse for an extended period. Additionally, your peers had been working overnight and were quite exhausted. Thus, you were the only one left still awake when the sun rose.
After you had your breakfast, preparing to return to work, you did something you shouldn’t have. You looked outside the window again. On the streets, you saw people enjoying themselves at their local festival. The street outside the safehouse was closed off as various stalls filled both sides of the road.
It had been months since you were dispatched there, yet you still wasn’t allowed to spend casual time in the neighborhood. The only times you were allowed outside was when you had to complete a task with a time limit. It was different from what you wanted. You wanted to fully immerse yourself in the place you’ve long to visit.
Alas, you were unable to resist your temptation and decided to disobey your superior. Hastily, you put it on a suitable disguise from the wardrobe and sneaked out without alerting your colleagues. Your heart was racing. Was it because of excitement? Fear? You didn’t know, but you didn’t care.
As you marched out into the street, you breathed in deeply and beamed. Yes, you could finally enjoy the fresh air on your terms and soaked in the delightful atmosphere of the festival. All the worries that once dominated your mind immediately faded away as you practically skipped into the crowd.
Sauntering down the street, you noticed many people giving you weird looks, but you didn’t care. You were loaded with the local currency, so you spent it on trying the activities and foods that the various stalls offered. Did you savor the food and activities or understand it? Not really, but it doesn’t matter, because all you wanted was to immerse yourself in the place your group is trying to save.
You promised yourself that you would only spend thirty minutes, but when you check your watch, three hours had passed. Anxiety exploded in your mind as you raced back into your safehouse. Unfortunately, during your hurry return, your disguise fell apart slightly. You thought no one noticed, but a few locals did, and they made sure you knew almost immediately.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“I’ve heard of yer kind before,” said a man with a white moustache and a cowboy outfit. “Y’all those immigrants ‘trying to help,’ ain’t it? Saw y’all on the tv the other day.”
The man’s companion flashed his holstered gun, narrowing his eyes. “We don’t treat immigrants kindly ‘ere.”
“Come on, Dad. Just leave ‘em be. They ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong,” said a young woman sitting on the steps.
“No!” The man with the cowboy outfit pulled out his pistol, glaring at you. “Our country doesn’t need anyone to ‘help out,’ especially from immigrants! Get ‘em!”
You recalled a scenario you read up in your handbook before, and you bolted without a second thought. Though you didn’t recall much detail from the handbook, but one detail you did remember was how volatile the locals were. Would it cause more commotion if you ran like a crazy person? Sure, but it was much better than getting yourself killed and jeopardizing the mission.
And so, you dashed toward your safehouse while being chased by a handful of bloodthirsty locals. You questioned yourself why you didn’t put on your basic equipment before leaving the safehouse. So many thoughts crossed your mind, but none were particularly helpful. You kept hoping the bullets wouldn’t hit you, but as you did, one grazed your limb.
That was all it took to stun you. You crashed into the nearby wall. Your safehouse was within your sight, but you couldn’t scream at your comrades for help. If you did, it would expose the safehouse. Thus, left with no other choice, you contemplated suicide. You couldn’t believe how foolish you were, and you began to understand why your superior forbade you from leaving.
“We got ‘em, boys.” The man in the cowboy outfit panted, staring daggers at you. His companions towered over you, surrounding you. All of them were smirking at you with murderous intent. Despair settled in your heart. You wondered why they reacted so negatively to you when all you and your team were doing was for the sake of world peace.
The man cocked his gun and aimed the barrel at your head. “Sayonara, you filthy--”
Without warning, all four men surrounding you dropped to the ground, unconscious. That inadvertently revealed the figure standing behind the men, who was an individual in a costume of the local mascot. In the hand of the individual before you was a device you’re very familiar with.
At that moment, you realized who you’re staring at. It’s your superior.
“What did I tell you, Zyuts?” Your superior’s piercing silver “eyes” stared straight at you. “This is why you’re not ready. If you had messed up the mission, what would our people think, hmm? Did you even care about the earthlings’ well-being or did you sign up for the mission thinking it’s a vacation trip?”
“I-I’m sorry.” You said.
“I’ll decide your punishment after my task’s over. When you return, I want you to tell the others that we’ve received a new wish humanity has been collectively asking for. Once we’ve dealt with all the previous wishes and solving world hunger, we’ll move to doing this one.”
“W-What is it?”
“Turning earthlings into beings they refer to as ‘furries.’”