Chapter: 118
“I will now begin the First Roundtable Conference of the evil organization Legend of Devils.”
Thud thud thud.
Dressed sharply, Pink Balrez adjusted their glasses and kicked off the meeting. The participants were as follows: I, the Demon King and the first among the Four Heavenly Kings, Fallen Magic Demon King Luzifer Zekniel (with a Phase 2).
Next was the purple Magic Tower owner and the second of the Four Heavenly Kings, Unaris, the Existence of Infinite Void.
The third in line, Yuri Frostlover, officiated this little gathering.
The weakest among the Four Heavenly Kings is none other than Espoir de Eternal Dark.
A stylish nameplate engraved with her name lay on the table, and the curtains were meticulously drawn at the windows. A sole light fixture cast a cool ambiance.
I stood there, arms crossed, and graciously permitted the meeting to commence.
“Let’s proceed—our Grand Plan (Genocide of Doom) to topple our world.”
“…I-I’m just so miserable! I can’t stretch my arms and legs…!”
“What’s happening, Existence of Infinite Void…?”
“WAAAAHHH…!!”
In full swing of teenage angst, Unaris rolled around on the floor. It seemed her hands and feet had curled up while an unbearable ticklishness crawled down her spine.
I too felt a twinge in my heart, just for a moment. But seeing Unaris morph into a flailing squid was worth this role-playing session.
Meanwhile, Pink Balrez remained unfazed, leveling a direct hit at the outsider.
“The weakest among the Four Heavenly Kings, Princess of Darkness, Espoir de Eternal Dark, please report.”
“Well, I told you, that’s not my name…!!”
“Oh, not speaking politely? Wanna taste a bit of Amta?”
“I never referred to myself by such a name!!”
How delightful!
The Outsider born during the last session had turned into something akin to a servant through long-term training and bondage. There’s no loyalty to expect, and they’re still huffy, but…
If they do their job well, I’ll wipe away their mutt-like status; if not, I’ll hit them with penalties like adding “nyan” after their words as a whip-and-carrot strategy to gradually break their spirit.
And of course, they’re equipped with a bomb collar for emergencies. Safety was not a concern. The outsider thought for a moment before speaking.
“I think the target is a fool.”
“That’s quite an unusual assessment. Specifically?”
“They’re way too slow, you know? Not killing Oh Hye-in and stealing her wealth is understandable. How threatening the being next to them, Mungae, might be is uncertain and cooperating with locals is essential for adapting to a new society.”
However…
“If they had tried to accumulate some knowledge… they could’ve done anything. Ask Oh Hye-in zealously about this world and learn about the smartphones everyone carries around every day.”
From that moment, the knowledge snowball begins to roll. The vast internet can provide all the desired information.
From firearms, explosives, the disputes between nations, to the societal taboo against killing. With that foundational knowledge, the steps are clear.
“First, you must become economically independent. Living off others’ goodwill is too risky. How could you know if Oh Hye-in will boot you out the very next day? First, a bit of light murder-robbery, then use that money to grow your capital and open an orphanage…”
“Open…?”
“Train obedient killing machines through brainwashing from a young age, and then overthrow the state…”
“Yeah, you should leave.”
The Outsider was filled with pure malice. I quickly imposed a ban on chatting for 30 minutes on them. If left unchecked, who’d believe we were an evil organization?
I clapped to lighten the mood.
“Now, let’s continue the meeting.”
“…B-but what are we supposed to discuss?”
“First, I’d like to request modeling for the next tentacle. Design 3 didn’t really feel great. The Magical Girl seemed to be in pain rather than enjoying herself.”
“Seems about time to introduce the next monster; we should think it through, Master of the Magic Tower. We need something that adds a sense of crisis while also pushing the main storyline…”
While we were having productive discussions, the Outsider forcibly tore down the chat ban and shouted.
“You guys are supposed to brainwash Roderus and dig for info—!!”
“Watch your language.”
“A-Annoying, I mean, but you all were just messing around! Do your jobs!”
“…”
Pink Balrez and I flinched, avoiding the Outsider’s fierce gaze. They huffed angrily as they began to interrogate us. First targeting Pink Balrez.
“Hey, Succubus! Why’d you cancel the plan to use tentacles for pleasure, turning them into female corrupt slaves? Why didn’t you execute 300 times sensitivity?!”
“Because it lacked aesthetics… I could do it, but then I would miss out on the precious hesitation phase. The highlight is when a woman gradually realizes her identity and desires and gives in one starry night…”
“Did you screw up or not?!”
“My bad for being self-serving. But the Demon King also had fun. Please punish me.”
Pink Balrez threw the bomb. The Outsider turned sharply and glared at me.
“You said you were going to break their minds and turn them into slaves who obey any command! Why was the ‘Now Nothing Feels Scary’ operation canceled?!”
“N-no, it… it was rolling too well, so I slipped up. I couldn’t just throw everything into the pit for the sake of some info, that’d be a pity…”
“Did you or didn’t you?!”
“Yes… no… but what I do is my own business, ya little brat! 3000 times sensitivity!”
Kyahhh—!
The Outsider screamed and stormed out. Still, their words weren’t entirely baseless. There was some truth to it.
But still…
“Roderus really suits this role. Oddly so.”
“True.”
They were surprisingly docile.
They didn’t actively try to do anything; if given a target, they’d follow along perfectly. After a few scratches by Oh Hye-in, they didn’t throw any punches, nor did they stab Mungae with a rapier.
If they were really monstrous, they’d have knocked someone out right away without a single thought.
I was worried that they might not follow along with just TS, so I prepped plenty with compulsory hypnosis, shame play, and high-grade stuff I didn’t even use.
Moreover, they… ate too joyfully.
It’s not that they could’ve debuted as a food vlogger based on how delightfully they slurped up doenjang jjigae, right? Even coming from a culture more Western-like.
When we first brought out food at the start of the session, they devoured it like someone who hadn’t eaten anything for a week. It was odd; I didn’t think they carried an excessive eating character…
So naturally, thoughts began to spiral in this direction.
Maybe there’s more to this kid than I thought.
Could it be that they were just a decent person who had been miseducated in childhood? Perhaps their nature isn’t bad at all.
I got the feeling that the Master of the Magic Tower was also harboring similar thoughts, sometimes casting worried glances at Roderus. But then she’d remember the punch she dealt him, and her eyebrows turned into a cross.
Our organization’s cold intellect, Pink Balrez, directed a question at me.
“Whether it’s natural or environmental, those details do not matter, mad wizard. Even if someone has a sad backstory that deserves sympathy, A has no choice but to be killed if they’re after your life.”
“…”
“Roderus is targeting your life. And as we speak, that’s still the case. Is there any reason to abandon the merit of eliminating a danger and preparing a response to Redburn for the sake of ‘sympathy’?”
That’s a valid point.
And I have no intention to show mercy based on sympathy. If someone comes after my neck, I’ll go after theirs. If they harbor malice, I’ll return it in kind.
The attacks I launched when fighting Roderus were delivered with the intent to kill. Had it not been for the artifact he was wrapped in, my mind would have definitely shattered. I was in desperate need of a way to survive back then.
But, as long as I had the leisure…
“Everyone deserves a chance, don’t you think?”
“…”
“I don’t want to play hero or volunteer for any charities. Just that, everyone should have had… that much of a chance.”
In my childhood, I counted one by one what I couldn’t have, looking up at the night sky. There were many people like me in that poor neighborhood. Dealt a rough hand, as they say.
There was a guy who lived next door.
With our shared poverty, he was the kind of good person who’d split his dalgona candy in half and give me some. Also, a young man with dreams of escaping that hellish neighborhood.
But, in a situation where he couldn’t afford books or lectures, studying became poison, and even begging for the crust of bread was reaching his limits.
I heard he fell into a coma from malnutrition and was taken to the emergency room. I was told he kept muttering while staring at the receipt for hospital bills, wondering how many books he could buy with that money.
He fell off the tightrope we all walk.
I looked at him from the window and knew he had finally given up on his dreams. At some point, tattoos began appearing on his body, and he started hanging out with bad company.
The ending he met was all too predictable. He committed a crime and got arrested by the police. The young man who dreamt of becoming a lawyer ended up in prison.
I stared at the night sky, wondering if I had money. If I could’ve shared just half my dalgona with my neighbor like he did with me…
What would’ve happened? Would he have become a lawyer living for the less fortunate, a noble-minded person? I can’t say for sure, but at least his fate wouldn’t have veered into crime.
I just felt reminiscent of those times.
Roderus… was moved just by some laughter and chatter.
Since this was conducted remotely, Narration could not penetrate deeply enough to read his background. Yet he seemed to be hoping for some kind of… ‘opportunity.’
Right now, I have dalgona. There’s enough to spare by the truckload. And right in front of me sits a pitiful life.
I think I’d like to extend a half piece of dalgona in kindness. Would Roderus accept it?
If so, then I’d be willing to lower the rope.
“Of course, I’d need to review it thoroughly before proceeding. Is there no way to dig up Roderus’s backstory?”
“Should we send a letter to Duke Redburn?”
“Will that work?”
“Then we don’t have any options, do we?”
At that moment, the Master of the Magic Tower quietly raised her hand. How much had she wanted to speak? A bright, shining bulb-like illusion spun around her. I graciously allowed her to voice her thoughts.
“Speak, Existence of Infinite Void… Ah!”
She received a low kick.
“Listen, I’m talking about the finder of the Hidden Piece in the Tower of Trials.”
“Oh, yes. I heard one of the students managed to discover it?”
“The name of that student is… Envers Redburn. Assuming he’s likely of the same family name…”
“Oh, really? In that case, I’ll use the open portal to poke around a bit.”
The meeting came to a close. We could gather as much information as possible and then determine Roderus’s treatment. What kind of story did he have?
As we were leaving, Pink Balrez quietly asked.
“So… does that mean we’ll stop the tentacle teasing?”
“No.”
“Ah, so no.”
Rescue is rescue, and revenge is revenge. The bruises Roderus received from me are still glaringly visible. Until those bruises heal, he won’t be comfortable, Roderus.
“Then I’ll prepare three tentacles as planned, my lord.”
“Proceed.”
“Understood.”
The wicked magical claws stretched out toward the Magical Girls.
===============================================================
They attacked en masse once.
Once within the assault team, they joined in for a group strike.
And as the assault on the Tower of Trials deepened, they maximized efficiency to barely make it to the third squad.
Envers had seen the mysterious beggar three times in total.
During their first meeting, they learned about martial arts.
In the second meeting, they learned about the martial world.
And in the third meeting, they learned about beggars.
Only then did Envers ask the beggar for instruction, and he accepted.
He claimed himself to be a nameless beggar who, in chasing after a heavenly demon, had thrown himself into a dimensional gap and ended up trapped in this space.
With no hope of returning home, if this was to be his final resting place, surely one must leave a name behind after death, right? Thus, martial arts have their meaning in the lasting flow.
For this reason, the beggar commenced teaching Envers and made it possible for him to move to the 8th floor of the Tower of Trials at any time. It was a fateful encounter.
Starting from scratch.
He grounded his lower body like the deep, unshakeable roots of an old tree, ensuring that his balance never shook, for only then was he eligible to extend his fist.
Envers followed without complaint. While the process of embedding balance into his body felt tedious and repetitive, he diligently engaged, fueled by his pure desire for martial expertise.
The beggar was pleased with how he approached his learning. If the student dedicates their heart wholeheartedly, then how could the teacher not enjoy it?
After studying well enough to stand on one leg like a crane and drift off to sleep, Envers’s learning progressed to the next phase: memorizing the fundamentals of martial arts.
Prior to the teachings, the beggar initiated a brief question-and-answer session.
“How would you defend yourself if an enemy strikes down from above?”
“Wouldn’t I block it by hitting upward?”
“Can you think of another method?”
“I could evade it with footwork, strike it off to the side, or even employ an artifact.”
The beggar nodded and asked once more.
“If you block the blow by hitting upward, how would you do that?”
“What do you mean, how…?”
“I’m asking where you’d place your feet, where you’d center your body, whether you’d strike horizontally or vertically, whether to loosen up for the next move or tighten up to catch it swiftly.”
“…I don’t quite understand.”
“That is the foundation of martial arts.”
Even a single upward-blocking motion is nearly infinite. Considering the angle of the feet, the overall flow, and the movement of internal energy, the possibilities are incalculable. There’s no human who could scrutinize all those methods.
Thus, to pinpoint one motion and standardize it is what makes the foundational martial arts. The beggar illustrated the upward crescent moon with a wooden stick soaring into the sky.
“This is called Seungwol, meant to block upward and sharpen the following move. It’s from my long-time friend; what do you think?”
“…It’s beautiful.”
“Now let’s see this.”
The beggar drew another crescent moon, this time horizontally. While every movement differed entirely, to Envers, it looked strangely like the same upward crescent moon.
“What does this look like to you?”
“Although it didn’t soar upward, it still appears as Seungwol to me. It’s strange…”
“Excellent observation. This too is the same Seungwol. Although it appears distinct, the reason it’s called a foundational technique is precisely because it shares the same intent. This also proves effective in honing subsequent maneuvers.”
Therefore, one must learn foundational techniques yet not be bound by them, must follow the principles yet awaken them in oneself. The beggar expressed.
Envers fell into a daze as if clouds were being dispersed with his hands.
The beggar chuckled and added.
“Keep in mind that you must focus on the essence and not the shell. I’ll ask you one question, so answer truthfully.”
“Understood.”
“If one day you wake up and find your body has become that of a woman, would you surrender your sword?”
“…”
It was an ambiguous question, but Envers shook his head without hesitation. The change in body wouldn’t dim his desire for martial arts.
“If you were born without arms or legs, would you surrender your sword?”
“I could use my mouth to grip it, I suppose.”
“What if you became a butterfly?”
“…I could possibly wield it with my antennae, right?”
At that, the beggar burst into hearty laughter. It seemed he was pleased with his answer, and Envers chuckled sheepishly as well.
The beggar laughed heartily for a while before he praised Envers greatly.
“Indeed, what matters is what’s in one’s heart. Who cares what shape the vessel takes? Your answers are bold and filled with enthusiasm; how delightful that is. However…”
“What do you mean?”
“In my eyes, it seems you have more than just your sword in your heart. There’s no need to feel ashamed. A person who harbors only a single sword in their heart is known as a sword demon. That’s insane.”
“…”
“Why is it that you hold onto your sword?”
The beggar’s piercing gaze seemed to peer right into Envers’s innermost thoughts, and he did not dare hide anything as he spoke straightforwardly. About the abuse he faced in his family, and the vow he made that fateful day.
And about his brother, Roderus.
Envers plumbed into memories of his brother, drifting through recollections of their path together, promises under the moonlight, and betrayal. He remained hopelessly torn, unsure of whether to hate or trust him. Just that.
“…I wish to see him again.”
“What do you intend to do upon meeting him?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Then, let’s start by figuring out what’s in your heart. If you train diligently and diligently embed your wishes in your limbs, that hazy heart of yours will surely become clearer.”
The beggar rose from his seat, and Envers followed suit.
And in the background, the mad wizard was shrieking, “This one’s really got the makings of a martial artist!” as he stood up.
===============================================================
Judging from years of accumulated subculture knowledge and information, Roderus seemed to be an assassin trained under inhumane conditions. It looked like he had undergone intense brainwashing at the Redburn family.
He bears the form of a human, yet is essentially a tool, so if that’s the case, it’s only right to hold the one who wields the tool responsible for any offense. Why could one blame the tool itself?
Alright. Let’s make this kid human.
Operation name: “I Will Teach You Love.”
An array of youthful events unfolds—clubs, PE classes at the indoor swimming pool, shopping for swimsuits with the girls ahead of their trip to the beach, tentacle 2-trap scenarios, chasing delinquents, personality tests, and friendships blooming amid waterfalls of angst, all laced with some yuri, leading to a showdown and ultimate freedom.
I’ll pour out 120% of everyday life onto this. What comes next is up to you…!
