Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 010
Chapter Title: The Invited and the Abandoned
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Lee Jung-woo quietly took in the sight of his new kingdom coming to life.
It was a different sensation from three hundred years ago, when he had raised his first undead on the barren lands of Arkea.
Back then, it had been a desperate struggle for survival. Now, it was closer to a true sovereign gazing down upon his creation.
The legions filling the imperial palace at this moment were faithful extensions of his will.
Of course, they were merely a tiny fraction of the vast imperial army—a practical detachment dispatched to this forward outpost.
The true empire slumbered within the Vault of Oblivion, the subdimensional space directly linked to his soul.
And it wasn't just mindless undead legions there.
Alongside millions of undead troops were Helena's vampire kin, Tinker's goblin engineers, and even orc tribes that hadn't lost their wild ferocity—living subjects thriving in their respective districts, forming the empire's ecosystem.
'Someday, I should show that spectacle to my sister too. I wonder how this world looks through the eyes of an ordinary mortal.'
The thought suddenly intrigued him.
Regardless of his musings, the construction site before him buzzed with activity.
The heavy breaths of massive Tyrant Skeletons, the mechanical clatter of Steel Skeletons' bones colliding,
and the low chants of the liches orchestrating it all blended into a majestic symphony.
Perfect efficiency. Perfect control.
This was the order of the world he sought.
But an empire couldn't be sustained by legions alone.
Raw power couldn't dominate everything.
An empire needed eyes and ears—and blades—moving in the shadows.
At his command, artificial shadows woven throughout the palace stirred like living creatures.
The first to emerge were the Wraiths.
These embodiments of black shadow slipped into the shadows of all living things, silently slitting enemies' throats as the empire's most covert assassins.
Countless heroes and kings of Arkea had met futile ends to these black blades rising from their own shadows in broad daylight.
They were invisible calamities as terrifying as any physical legion.
And rising among them were their more evolved superiors.
Watchers with ten eerie red eyes.
Specters.
Their gaze wasn't mere sight.
They pierced through mana flows and the colors of souls alike—living watchtowers of the empire.
The empire's foes trembled, calling it a horrific punishment that stripped them bare soul and all under a Specter's scrutiny.
At Jung-woo's order, these thousands of ethereal troops integrated into the soul network in unison.
Normally unable to interfere with the material world, they gained ethereal grips upon reality the moment their lord supplied mana—able to seize whatever they desired.
The Wraiths dispersed into the city's deepest darkness, the Specters to the highest spires.
For now, it was just the palace, but this marked the partial completion of Necropolis's vast surveillance net.
Then, something small flickered at the edge of his vision.
Near the boundary where his Shroud of Death hadn't fully extended yet—about two kilometers away, atop a hill.
He turned his head and stared.
A drone.
Three hundred years hadn't stolen Earth's memories from him.
If anything, blending with Arkea's arcane knowledge let him see right through how primitive and crude its mechanisms were.
He didn't even need magic. He synced his senses with a frontline Specter linked to the soul network.
In an instant, his vision shifted to that of the multi-eyed watcher.
Clear as day came the face of the man beyond the drone, yammering excitedly.
A thoroughly human face, laced with greed, opportunism, and instinctive fear.
Jung-woo smirked as he watched.
This man seemed a far cry from Choi Kang-hyuk, who had glared at him with eyes brimming with self-righteous zeal and duty.
Those who could die for beliefs were one thing, but those who would do anything to survive could sometimes prove more useful.
'Guys like that cling to life tenaciously. Heh.'
For some reason, he felt intrigued.
In this dull Earth, this might make for decent entertainment.
The moment the drone edged closer into his domain, a stray ripple of mana from the Shroud of Death fried its circuits.
The drone spun like a leaf and plummeted.
Jung-woo released the sync and summoned a nearby Steel Skeleton alternating between construction labor and guard duty.
"You. Head to that hill and compensate that guy for the broken toy."
He extended his hand, and inky darkness coalesced in his palm, soon solidifying into a hefty gold coin.
Stamped with the imperial seal, it was treated as more precious than gold in Arkea and served as one of the official currencies.
"And... since he's an intriguing fellow, tell him to come alone next time."
The skeleton bowed, pocketed the coin, and vanished soundlessly into the shadows.
Jung-woo lost interest in the minor commotion and turned his gaze inward once more.
"Belial."
"Yes, my liege."
"How's the administrative office coming along? It needs to function properly."
Contempt flashed openly in Belial's empty sockets.
He recalled the chaotic scene at the office and reported in a polite yet barbed tone.
"My liege, as I've said countless times, demanding intellect from that muscle-brained brute is as futile as teaching manners to an orc."
"Let's go see what they're up to."
A mischievous smile tugged at Jung-woo's lips.
He headed to the administrative office with Belial.
As expected, it was a battlefield.
"Why is this damned machine so complicated! One punch from me would fix it all!"
Bolg roared, kicking the shattered TV.
Beside him, goblin engineer Tinker clutched his ears and shrieked.
"You muscle-stuffed rockhead! I just modded that with mana circuits! Your armor repairs alone shake the imperial budget, and now office equipment too?!"
Jung-woo clicked his tongue pityingly at the scene.
He clapped twice, drawing the attention of his rowdy subordinates.
"Bolg."
"My liege! You've arrived!"
"No complaints since the residents vanished, huh? Bored enough to smash equipment as your new job?"
"N-no, my liege! There's nothing to do! No challenges to face, no enemies to crush!"
"So I brought you some work."
With a gesture, Jung-woo summoned three Steel Skeletons into the office.
One had a cracked rib from a construction mishap, another clutched a rusted sword, and the last just stood blankly.
Jung-woo settled comfortably into a chair and declared,
"We'll transplant Necrosia's systems here wholesale. As a first step, I hereby rename this administrative office the Citizen Welfare and Grievance Department. And those are your first customers."
He glanced between Bolg and the skeletons.
"Your mission is to handle their grievances and lay the foundation for the empire's bureaucracy. It's time that thick skull of yours learned administration—then I can entrust you with bigger things. Soon, like in Arkea, I'll replace the department head with a capable lich, so solidify this office's cornerstone until then."
Now for specifics.
"That one—worker's comp. Treat it properly and give it a day off. That one's griping about outdated gear? Take it to Tinker immediately for a fresh steel sword upgrade. And the last one? Just bored. Entertain it yourself."
Only then did Bolg grasp his liege's profound intent.
He was the interim department head—and trainee learning the empire's systems.
He clenched his fist resolutely, patted the injured skeleton's shoulder, and bellowed,
"Worry not, comrade! This body will resolve your grievances perfectly!"
The office grew noisy again, but now with a strangely vibrant energy.
Thus, the empire's first administrative organ began finding its purpose.
Meanwhile, atop the hill two kilometers from the Necropolis palace.
Go Se-gu thought his heart might burst.
Unlike the production crew staring blankly toward the vanished skeleton in the woods, he couldn't tear his eyes from the gold coin on the ground.
Terror gripped his body, but an even fiercer thrill numbed his brain.
'He likes me...?'
With trembling hands, he picked it up.
Its hefty weight and eerily cold chill spread from his palm through his body.
Instinctively, he held it up to the camera.
"Everyone, did you see? The undead gave this to me."
The exploding chat froze for a moment.
Hundreds of thousands of viewers held their breath, fixated on the ominous yet beautiful gold coin in his hand.
"He said it's for the drone. Feel this weight, this chilling cold, this emblem... Any experts watching? Please comment what this is."
He close-upped the eerie yet beautiful dragon emblem on its surface from every angle.
Under the broadcast lights, the coin gleamed strangely.
The chat had spiraled beyond his control.
He decided to ride the wave of explosive reactions.
"And... the undead told me this. To come... alone next time."
Go Se-gu paused dramatically, steeling himself like a martyr with a grand resolve.
"I'm scared. Honestly terrified. But before I'm a YouTuber, I'm a journalist pursuing truth. I'll go. I'll find out why this unknown being summoned me, what he wants, and report it to you all. This isn't just a broadcast. It might be the first step in dialogue that decides Korea's future. Don't forget to subscribe... and hit notifications!"
Superchats erupted wildly the moment he finished.
Go Se-gu trembled in ecstasy at the alerts.
Truth be told, humanity's fate mattered less than being the center of the world right now, devouring subs and views.
A chance to go major streamer—Go Se-gu grinned ear to ear.
His broadcast rippled outward, plunging Korea into shock once more.
The emperor's gold coin. Solo interview declaration.
These sensational keywords dominated real-time trends.
People no longer trusted government briefings or expert analyses.
They hung on every word from Go Se-gu, the only man to communicate with the unknown entity.
His channel subs skyrocketed overnight, his videos even cited by foreign outlets.
Suwon apartment evacuees' temporary shelter—a high school gymnasium designated as such.
Packed wall-to-wall with thin mattresses, it reeked of despair and rage.
Children's cries and adults' sighing curses echoed nonstop.
"What do we do now, honey... That house we saved our whole lives for. The loan kicks in next month..."
A young couple murmured blankly, clutching their newborn.
Ten years into the gate era.
In this harsh world, crashing with friends or family bought only days—not real solutions.
Besides, a decade had shifted priorities from banks to precious metals and cash.
With gates unstoppable, prepping for potential apocalypse meant favoring tangible assets over deposits.
Their home's possessions tantalized them, eyes brimming with despair.
Then a middle-aged man shouted at the crowd gathered before the broken TV.
"What's with that YouTuber on TV?!"
"We're about to be homeless, and he's grinning over one gold coin scrap! No one's listening to us!"
His cry ignited the pent-up fury of the crowd.
"Right! What the hell's the government doing?!"
"President, show yourself! Give us our homes back!"
One man shot to his feet.
Park Cheol-min, who days ago had protested at the administrative office and witnessed Lee Jung-woo's bizarre decree firsthand.
No fear remained in his eyes—only the venom of one who'd lost everything.
"We can't just sit here. We have to go ourselves. Make them hear our voices."
"To the National Assembly! If the world ignores us, we'll storm the world!"
His spark on the tinderbox of oil-soaked dry wood.