Sung-tae's Weakness
[Heh heh. As expected, a cockroach is perfect for a place like this.]
Cockroaches! The one insect I truly acknowledge as beautiful! Humans despise cockroaches, but as I said earlier, what matters is the inner qualities, not the appearance. No, their appearance is beautiful to begin with. That shiny shell and the pair of antennae that move swiftly. They can change direction at will, and their legs can explode with instantaneous speed. Unlike humans who must eat every day without rest, they endure long periods of starvation without a single complaint! And their tolerance to adapt quickly to any environment!
[Cockroaches are the ultimate lifeforms!]
Now then, shall we go find our sacrifice? By hiding in his lair and spying on his daily life, eventually a weakness will reveal itself. Not a physical one. What I want is a mental weakness.
[If he shows even a momentary gap, I can burrow into his mind and destroy his soul.]
That idiot Gurst tried to destroy him from the outside, but you can't take down physically strong foes that way. Just because the body is strong doesn't mean the mind is too. Especially for humans, who have so many mental vulnerabilities—if I can find a way to stir their emotions, I can slip right in.
[It's this way.]
I finally arrived at the room where I could sense his scent. But there's no gap under the door. It's a steel door, so I can't get in like this.
At that moment, the goddess of luck must have smiled on me—the door opened on its own.
"A cockroach?"
'He's not scared.'
The one who opened the door was the brown-skinned woman who had been with the sacrifice. Normal humans tremble in fear and flee at the sight of cockroaches, but not her.
"No idea what you'd even eat to come to a place like this."
She tossed out a curt remark without even glancing at me, which let me slip into the sacrifice's room easily alongside her.
Curious. Humans, especially women, are supposed to fear cockroaches. Well, doesn't matter—she helped, and the sacrifice is inside. Better hide before I'm spotted.
"You're back? How's Smith doing?"
"He's adapting well, my lord."
"Good. I was worried for a sec."
I scurried under the bed and eavesdropped on their conversation. Aside from the initial greeting, it was all trivial chit-chat—no useful info at all.
"By the way, Garba. Who were you talking to earlier?"
"Pardon? What do you mean?"
"You were talking to someone before coming into the room."
"Oh. There was a cockroach, so I just muttered to myself."
"What!!!!! A c-c-cockroach?!"
Hm? What's this? The bed's shaking. From under here, I could see the sacrifice's legs vanish—he must've jumped up top.
"My lord? What's wrong? It's just a cockroach."
"Ugh... I'm scared of cockroaches..."
'Scared of cockroaches?'
What an odd case. Human men might hate or avoid them, but actual fear like this is rare. Still, I've found his weakness—my mind sharpened instantly. Let's listen in more carefully.
"You're scared of cockroaches?"
"Yeah... If I'd grown up normal, I probably wouldn't be. Of course, fearing something like a cockroach is ridiculous anyway. But... I have this childhood trauma..."
The sacrifice was spilling it all on his own. Perfect! Tell me your story!
"It's a horrific trauma. Let me tell you about it..."
"It happened a long time ago. I was in my first year of middle school."
The sacrifice's voice trembled faintly. In stark contrast to his immense physical power, it sounded like a girl waking up in the dead of night amid thunder and lightning.
What could have shaken him this badly? A man with a body fit for a lord—what could he possibly fear so much?
Ah, right. Cockroaches. But why fear cockroaches? They're perfect lifeforms.
"Chuseok was two days away, so I was super excited. That's how it is with Chuseok, right? For kids who don't know better, it's all about delicious food, seeing relatives, and getting pocket money."
"M-my lord. What's Chuseok?"
Me too, I'm curious. A day when relatives gather and you get pocket money? With tasty food? I've observed humans for quite a while, but I've never seen that festival.
"It's a thing. Not important right now. Anyway, I was playing games, waiting for Chuseok to come. But my stomach growled. Late night snack cravings. Parents were asleep, so I had no choice but to head to the kitchen and open the fridge. Guess what I found?"
"No idea."
"It was..."
The sacrifice fell silent. Trauma, huh—even bringing it up again seemed tough. After a moment, he continued in a shaky voice, suppressing his heightened emotions.
"Donggeurangddang."
"Donggeu... rangddang?"
'What's that?'
"Donggeurangddang. The classic Chuseok food—meat mashed into patties. My favorite. You coat 'em in egg batter and pan-fry 'em. Super tasty."
How's that trauma? I couldn't make sense of the sacrifice's tale, but it wasn't over yet, so I kept listening.
"I spotted the donggeurangddang in the freezer and decided I had to eat it. Not just any—it was homemade from Grandma in the countryside, sent ahead of Chuseok. Not store-bought mass-produced stuff, but hand-mashed meat patties."
"I see..."
"Homemade. Homemade! Gotta be delicious! It will be! Meant for Chuseok frying, but my gluttony screamed to make 'em now. I couldn't resist, so I fried and ate them..."
His voice dropped sharply. Beyond agitation, he'd plunged into the heart of the trauma.
"They were as delicious as I'd hoped. Homemade donggeurangddang aren't flat like the store ones—they're thick. Maybe Grandma's big hands? Anyway, huge and tasty."
"Sounds good."
"But then!"
Finally, the core of the incident. His emotions went eerily calm, like the eye of a storm.
"The texture... was weird. Most were normal, but a few had a crunchy inside. I brushed it off. They were so thick, and I was rushing to avoid waking my parents, so I figured the centers didn't cook fully—ice crystals left. Eating 'em a bit undercooked won't kill me, right? But... when I picked up the last one, it hit me."
The storm was brewing. Now I could probably burrow into his mind. But no rushing—seize the perfect chance. Learn more about the weakness and exploit it.
"Why wasn't it cold? If the crunch was from undercooked ice, it should've been chilly, no? Thinking that right before the last bite. Still, no big deal—maybe special ingredients. But curiosity won; when I bit into the last one and felt the crunch, I spat it out."
"No way..."
"Yeah. It was in there. The bastard."
Humans are so peculiar. Gripped by fear, they can't even speak properly. But at fear's peak, for some reason, they laugh.
"Heh... heh heh..."
The sacrifice was the same. Recounting his trauma, he laughed.
"Normally, I'd suspect crunch right away. If I wasn't starving, I'd have noticed sooner. If I hadn't rushed the cooking fearing my parents... If I hadn't dipped 'em heavily in ketchup because the seasoning was a tad off... might've tasted it. Ah, maybe lucky? Felt the texture but not the flavor."
"My lord..."
"Grandma's place was rural. She had a vegetable garden. Peppers? Anyway. She must've mixed the meat, seasoned it, then gone out. That's when they snuck in. Never saw it, but bugs were everywhere there. Stink beetles in my shoes, newborn mice wriggling at the entrance. Even snakes."
His voice lightened, like enlightenment. But I know better—this isn't transcendence; it's humans' defense mechanism, numbing fear with apathy.
"A cockroach... could've easily gotten in. I don't blame Grandma. She made it for her grandkids. Eyesight poor, missed the cockroach. Ever since, I can't eat donggeurangddang. And just seeing one gives me chills."
Perfect. Got plenty on the sacrifice—time to head out and plan. I quickly shifted to fly form and slipped from under the bed. Window was open—easy escape.
"But my lord, why's that a trauma?"
"Huh?"
The brown-skinned woman asked, baffled. I agree. Why is that trauma?
"Even if one got mixed in... it's just food, right? Probably well-cooked."
'Exactly.'
Just eat it—becomes nutrition. Can't humans eat cockroaches? Humans are incomprehensible.
Any place inhabited by lifeforms has one indispensable spot. After hearing the sacrifice's trauma, I decided to exploit it fully.
"Hm? What's this?"
The kitchen. Trauma tied to food? I'd use that method.
"A recipe?"
A monster entered and found the recipe I'd written. Simple stuff: a recipe for food humans—seemingly upper-class ones—often eat. But I added one line at the top.
The ultimate dish. A special recipe for those who want their boss's love.
"Ooh... Gotta make this for Lord Demon King. He doesn't eat, but he'll like something special, right?"
The method was dead simple—just stuff fresh veggies and meat between bread. So basic I'd wanna crack open the creator's skull.
"Done. Pretty easy. Wonder if Lord Demon King will like it? No clue on human tastes."
I slipped between the bread and meat while it was being made. Perfect. If the sacrifice eats me like this, it'll recreate his trauma, crack his mind open, and let me in. Entering a weakened psyche? Easy soul destruction.
'Stupid Gurst. That's what brains are for.'
"Lord Demon King. Your meal."
"Hm? Meal?"
Observation showed he doesn't eat normally. But another fact: surprisingly kind to his subordinates.
"Don't really need to eat... but thanks. Appreciate you making it."
"Thank you!"
He took the food. I flattened and froze to avoid his eyes. Luckily, he didn't notice—sniffed it lightly, then picked it up.
"Just like a hamburger. Humans are all the same, huh."
'Finally!'
His mouth appeared. Wide open, ready to bite. Had to time the first chomp. Shifted forward a bit, but damn—his mouth was faster.
'Not fully in yet!'
Fine. Trigger the trauma again—that's the plan. Even if this body dies, I won't. It'll just let my soul invade his mind.
Finally, he bit down.
Crunch! Pain as my body snapped. At the same time, his mind wavered.
"..."
Food in mouth? He stared silently at the bitten sandwich.
Good. Here we go.
"Cough—hack!"
"My lord!!! What's happening?!"
"Blech!!!"
His mind twisted completely. Now!
[Easy! Too easy! Hahaha!!!]
I feel it—his mind in chaos. Mental strength ties to the soul. Chaos thins the barriers. Guide it right, and it'll destroy him from within. No matter how strong, victory's mine!
There—his inner world. Infiltrate and shatter his psyche.
[My lord! Hold on! The Spear of Contempt...]
Huh? Why's it dark? What the—
"Buuuurp."
Mukkebi patted her belly with a long belch. Having eaten a fragment of Wrath after so long, she felt deeply satisfied.
"A shard of Wrath, sure. But tastier than Sloth."
She grinned happily. But unease crept in too.
"A mere shard better than Sloth? Wrath, just how strong have you gotten?"
He was strong to begin with—did he train or something? Wait. Mental beings can't grow beyond innate strength, right?
Come to think of it, Sloth and Envy were the same. They'd hoarded power to form bodies, and some hero—whose fragment?—gathered more through heroes.
Mental beings stockpiling power. That's...
Attacks on me. Their power collection for bodies. Memories surfacing as I eat them.
"Ugh. Feels like something important's coming... but nope."
It teased at the edge, blocked by black fog. Tied to me somehow, but power not fully back—can't recall yet.
"What was it? Argh, forget it!"
Mukkebi clutched her head. Inside her belly: the content. And...
"Ughhh..."
"My lord! Pull yourself together! My loooord!!!"
Garba's scream echoed desperately through Demon King Castle, bereft of its target, as Sung-tae collapsed.