July 1946: The existence of another dimension was identified. According to official records, a certain country sent the first advance unit there in 1949.
October 1951: A major nation dispatched an entire battalion to the Other Dimension. Developments in communications technologies of the time led to near-daily media coverage of the expedition. Stories of beautiful elves, brawny dwarves, myriad races of beastfolk, and magic beyond human understanding filled the airwaves. These cheerful tales were the perfect distraction from the wounds left by the last world war and the unceasing anxiety that yet another might break out.
Chronicles of adventures in this foreign realm were penned into books, which were made into drama series, then adapted into movies. Tours were put together for the richest of the rich. It was, in the truest sense of the word, a brand-new world, a vessel for human dreams and envy.
But every dream must come to an end.
February 1955: An explosive tell-all book about that battalion dispatched to the foreign land was published, graphically recounting all that these representatives of humanity had done in their stay. In short, it told of destruction, rape, and murder.
The troops’ commander insisted that they had only demolished what had been necessary in order to establish their headquarters and that the accusations of rape were inaccurate retellings of consensual relations. He admitted they had indeed returned fire after native tribes had launched an attack against them, but that could hardly count as murder. No one believed his brazen lies. Of course, that tell-all book also became a drama, then a movie. Some of the wealthy tour-goers testified to hunting beastfolk and shooting them down.
Just around this time, the tremendous costs associated with traveling to this foreign land came under fire. A two-meter-square portal of light had to remain open for five seconds per person for each entry and exit. Each opening was so expensive that these travelers could have brought back hunks of gold as big as they were and it still would not have been enough to cover the sum. Though a few useful resources had been discovered in the other world, even they could not outweigh the operational expenses. And nobody took any of the people who claimed to have mastered skills commonly referred to as “magic” seriously.
January 1956: The entire battalion dispatched to the foreign land was annihilated. With his dying breath, their commander left these final words:
“There are gods in that world.”
To this day, no one knows what happened to them.
February 1956: A nonaggression pact was signed between our worlds. We have no record of who signed this treaty on behalf of the foreign land.
June 1957: The development of an aqueous cerebrum led to the completion of the world’s first artificial intelligence prototypes. Meanwhile, the Space Race intensified. All of humanity shifted its focus toward the stars. In doing so, the people of this world turned away from the evil deeds they had committed and consigned the existence of this foreign land to oblivion.
Back in the present day, the only reason I knew about the other realm was thanks to the video games I played. For someone as uncultured as me, there was no more entertaining way to learn than through games. It wasn’t the most expensive of hobbies, and best of all, you could play them as much as you wanted without inconveniencing anybody else.
All that aside, I first heard of the Firm at the end of March. I had just come back to Japan and had fallen into a deep depression over my younger sister’s situation. To make a long story short, I was strapped for cash. I needed to come up with the kind of money I could never earn with the hand-to-mouth existence I was leading at the time.
That’s when this Firm reached out and offered me a lifeline. It wasn’t like I had any noteworthy skills that would make me head-hunting material, and I knew no halfway-decent company would choose to work with someone like me. Or maybe I should say, hire me for a halfway-decent project? Either way, nothing about it was aboveboard. But I needed the money, so I decided to go in for an interview.
At my sister’s insistence, I borrowed a suit out of the pile of things my dad had left behind when he’d passed and made my way to the designated building. It was huge. Inside the classy lobby, a beautiful receptionist led the way to…a dim basement storehouse. The interviewer must have been in his fifties. He had thinning hair, glasses, and a face that was hard to read.
“Please, have a seat. We don’t have much time, so let’s proceed as quickly as possible. First, I’d like to you sign this,” he said, gesturing to the binder full of papers resting on top of the folding chair reserved for me.
“A nondisclosure agreement?” I asked. The contract looked shady as hell. I sat down and flipped through it, but the densely packed text made my head spin.
“Please do read through it carefully. Though I must admit we don’t have much time.”
“Could you summarize it for me, please?”
I figured that would be best if we needed to hurry.
“Silence is golden.”
“And the cons?”
“Loose lips sink ships.”
“Understood.” I signed the form.
“Allow me to ask you a few point-blank questions.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Are you opposed to work that may involve taking life-threatening risks?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you have an extensive network of friends?”
“No.”
“Would you be opposed to engaging in morally questionable or violent activities?”
“Depending on the situation, no.”
“Are you a devout adherent of any particular religion or denomination?”
“No.”
“Do you believe in God?”
“Yes.” Rice is divine, after all.
“Have you ever killed another person?”