Infinite Virility and the Grey Wolf

Infinite Virility, was it?

I paused, sinking into thought for a moment.

Virility.

For the most part the word referred to a man's performance in bed, but in everyday speech it usually just meant vitality. Put another way, you could just as well read it as Infinite Vitality.

'Hmm.'

But in Epic World, Infinite Virility carried a double meaning: quite literally, boundless vigor — and boundless sexual potency.

I weighed whether it would be a drawback or a boon, and the scales tipped toward boon.

'Not bad.'

The catch with Infinite Virility was that it could drag you into a state of arousal at the drop of a hat — but I had the talent Serenity. A talent that sharpened mental fortitude and kept the heart level. Anyone else might have struggled; for me, it was a clear net gain.

'I'll hold onto it for now.'

Infinite Virility would stay in reserve for the time being.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I meditated. When I turned my gaze inward, everything that composed my body came into focus — blood and bone, down to the most minute fibers of muscle, all of it answering to my will.

They said that at the very end of the Black God Martial Arts, one could command even the movement of individual cells, but that realm still felt far beyond me.

In any case, I began reaching for the power settled around my dantian.

The special stat: Faith.

It was a profoundly unusual power. It responded to pure will alone, and it carried the property of melting one's own strength into the laws of the world itself.

How did I know that? Because this world already had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its prophets — people who had awakened this power long before me.

The dwellers of the Baekshin Temple, who converted Faith into conceptual stats and wielded it. I owed that knowledge to the gods who had descended to the surface.

Vwooom!

The Faith stirred. A power made manifest from belief itself, it was finicky to handle. My Yeokcheon energy stirred as well, coiling restlessly as though it found the Faith distasteful.

When I set the Faith in motion, vitality poured into my body; the power of belief took shape and wrapped itself around me.

And the moment the Faith brushed against the Yeokcheon energy, its movement turned violent.

Little by little, the two began to merge—

Fwoooooosh—

The Yeokcheon energy and the Faith both vanished.

'...Still a bit tricky to handle.'

My control over the Yeokcheon energy, which had grown into a conceptual stat, was beyond imagination — it had even been said to rival the Heavenly Demons of generations past.

Faith was another matter entirely. The only support I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had for it came in the form of skills like Hero's Advanced Spirit-Power Enhancement (B) and Dexterity (B+).

I rose to my feet.

A little spare time had opened up just before meeting Erciel, and the practice ended up eating far more of it than I'd expected.

I washed up quickly and readied myself to go out. I'd been about to pull on a hoodie, but since I was meeting Seong Hanbyeol, I dressed to match the occasion instead — slacks and a crisp shirt.

"Someone's having mixed feelings, hmm?"

"Is this what a mother feels, sending off her son? To think it's my master — the very man who clung to that hoodie no matter how I scolded him..."

Yeongcheon and Heukcheon muttered as they watched me. Who're you calling your son? Absurd.

The moment I stepped outside, stares converged on me — more burdensome than usual.

I headed for the workshop I had specially proposed to the Emperor a while back and had built for me.

'An alchemist's place is the workshop, after all.'

Setting one up had been easy enough. The Emperor supplied the manpower; I supplied the money. Seo Yebin had even tried to foot the entire bill herself, but accepting that much felt like too much of a favor, so I'd refused.

'It's not as if I'm short on cash.'

Manpower that could raise a branch office and a workshop in short order, and connections that could source top-grade alchemy kits and every supply that went with them — those were settled in no time.

It's truly, truly awkward to say this about myself, but I happen to be the head of the Veritas Cult — so the moment I so much as mentioned it, every member of the Alchemy Guild fitted everything out in the absolute finest.

So this was power?

Faith might not be half bad after all...

The room was dark.

A group clad in white uniforms, black suns emblazoned across their chests, stood in immaculate ranks. Figures in pure-white peaked caps, aligned to perfection, filled the space — and they stood at attention with guns and other weapons in hand.

In this world, everything had collapsed and fused together, with the year 1999 as the dividing line.

From the places called Branch Points, people had pushed ever onward, dragging myth into reality.

In any case, as the worlds layered over one another, firearms lost much of their usefulness. Not that guns were useless — against beings below the Mid-Tier, they were still enough to win.

But once something climbed to Mid-Tier, ascended to High-Tier, and reached the Highest-Tier, nothing worked on it at all. Those who had achieved Transcendence each carried at least one method of surviving a nuclear blast.

Even the monsters were no different. A beast with decent defenses wouldn't so much as flinch at ordinary firepower while it threatened humanity — and that was a mere Low-Tier monster. Reworked rounds and modified guns could narrow the gap, but most of modern society ran on capitalism.

Yet on this Earth, there were those who relied on firearms as their mainstay. Judged the most wicked of any single faction, they were people who did not regard their fellow humans as human — one of the few evil organizations capable of standing on equal footing with the monsters known as the Seven Evils, who had united the demons under their banner.

"So — why did you call me here?"

The grey-haired man spoke with an arrogant drawl, a cigarette clamped between his lips. His uniform was an unusual cut, with a pistol riding at his left hip.

"Kill this boy."

"...You're giving me a job like that?"

The Grey Wolf's tone dripped with incredulous laughter.

"Grey Wolf. It is precisely because you are you that this mission falls to you. He may well be someone capable of threatening our 'Empire.'"

Beep.

The middle-aged man aimed a remote at the empty air. A screen flickered into being, and a video appeared upon it.

"What's that?"

"Footage obtained through the strictest secrecy."

The footage was heavily blurred. A boy battling a mermaid monster. The grey-haired man watched the scene in silence.

"He's not bad, is he?"

"That's not the issue. The issue ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is the power the boy used. Some say he awakened mana bearing the nature of Demon-Slaying — but there are also rumors that he is the one the Seven Evils guard against most of all."

"You mean that 'Prophesied One'?"

The grey-haired man sank into thought for a moment.

The Prophesied One was said to hold the power to annihilate every demon in existence — a power akin to some authority that stood beyond even the gods. Yet he could sense no such power from the boy. Only a black mana grated on his nerves. A black mana that didn't belong to the demons, either.

"I doubt it's to that degree... but very well. I suppose I'll grace this with my presence."

"Then I shall issue your orders, Grey Wolf. From this moment on, you are to link up with the False Heaven Brigade at this branch."

"What, the False Heaven Brigade is moving in on this too?"

"Yes. It seems they wish to subdue the boy and use him as leverage in a bargain with the Paewang."

"And do they actually have a way to subdue him?"

"They insist they'll manage on their own. Presumably with that tool the False Heaven Brigade uses to sever a person's mana entirely."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Observe the boy. If he is the Prophesied One — or if he carries a threat rating on par with that being—"

The middle-aged man turned his gaze to one side. A black sun blazed there, a swastika hovering above it.

"—or if he is judged a danger to our Nazi Empire, kill him, or pry his secrets out of him."

The middle-aged man finished with a cold smile.

I stepped into the workshop.

A sleek building revealed itself, its interior a workshop of roughly 3,500 square feet. Putting it up had cost far more than I'd expected.

'A good 20 billion won, wasn't it.'

Twenty billion won on a workshop. I had poured out money like a madman, but regrets... regrets...

'My twenty billion...'

My chest ached, but I sighed inwardly and shook it off. After all, living in this world, money rarely constrained me anymore.

Inside, every manner of material greeted me — ingredients carved off the Electronic Witch, and materials earned as payment for supplying the Emperor with potions.

I popped a glucose candy into my mouth and got to work.

Mask on, I recorded video as I compiled reference material on my phone. Because this workshop wouldn't be mine alone — B-Lab would be using it too.

'Outwardly, they're my disciples, after all.'

B-Lab existed to raise up alchemists. Handling the teaching myself wouldn't be a bad thing, but for this world to survive — for it to dodge the bad ending already written for it — my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠own strength mattered just as much. I couldn't pour every ounce of myself into raising alchemists alone.

I worked away at this and that for a while. Then a familiar presence made itself known, and with it the doorbell chimed — ding-dong. I walked to the front door.

When I opened it, Erciel stood there beaming. A black knit sweater, a checkered skirt striped black over brown, a coat draped over her shoulders.

"Hello! Lord Veritas's partner, Erciel, has arrived!"

Slam.

I shut the door before I even realized it.

'...'

Whew.

I took a long, steadying breath and opened the door again. Erciel was pouting at me.

"Do you hate hearing that so much?"

"Watch a crowd of strangers you've never met swear they're here to 'certify their faith' while going on about Lord Veritas this and Lord Veritas that, and you'd react exactly like I do."

"Isn't that a good thing, though? Watching people far beneath me flail about, desperate to wring even a scrap of knowledge out of me?"

"...You're vicious."

"Hehe."

At my words, Erciel stuck out the tip of her tongue and winked. Acting cute, are we? She was cute, so I let it slide.

I ushered Erciel inside.

"So this is your workshop, Seoha?"

"It is."

"...Hold on. Isn't that the piece Germain of the Alchemy Guild treasures beyond all reason? It's worth well over 200 million won — and it's so hard to make that even the greater Mage Towers struggle to get their hands on one..."

"Oh, is it now?"

"Well, I suppose that's only natural. These days, the name Veritas gets revered as a brand-new god."

Erciel stole a sidelong glance at me.

"Want to see the potions?"

"No, that's all right. They're potions from you, Seoha."

With that, Erciel swept the potions I held out into her subspace without so much as a glance at them.

"And these are Leap Elixirs. Each color raises a different stat, so mind which ones you take. Here's the manual."

Erciel skimmed the manual, then looked up at me.

"No wonder — the person who turned the entire discipline of alchemy on its head. This is genuinely incredible. You could sell a single one of these Leap Elixirs for 100 million won and buyers would still be lining up out the door."

"Then want to buy one at that price??"

"Yes. An elixir of this quality is worth every won."

"No need. Consider it a service for a valued customer."

"If you keep handing out 'service' like this, I might just get the wrong idea."

"..."

Erciel gave me a look that was equal parts sly and suggestive.

"Would it be all right if I got the wrong idea, just as I am? Because I'd like to keep misunderstanding."

One corner of her mouth curled upward. With a sultry expression, Erciel gazed up at me.