I Just Wanted to Borrow Some Money

I only wanted to borrow some money. But a few minutes later, a server-wide announcement went out.

Just like when the hidden class Skeleton Knight was first revealed, the Parallel official channel once again began pulling in dramatic amounts of traffic the moment the notice dropped. The live stream titled (🔴Live) Wicker Town Season 2 - Parallel Underground Control Room Day 8 shot up to 33,328 viewers. The floaters who had been completely wiped out by five straight twelve-hour hunting marathons came flooding back the second they heard the news. The chat was so flooded that I actually had to turn on follower-only mode, something I normally kept off.

The number of people had increased by more than ten thousand compared to when the Skeleton Knight hidden class was revealed. That was probably because the server population itself had grown. We started with twenty people and over eighty more had joined since. The settlement money handed out during that time totaled 1.6 million WK, so it made sense that people who remembered the name would come flocking back. If only this kind of thing had popped for the members instead. Damn, what a waste.

But remember. Lapiz Potion, it's really the best. Lapiz Potion, it's really the best. No matter how many people showed up, my only real job was to improve the image of the controversial Lapiz bread. With half a day left until I had to perform my Demon King duties, I took off the Demon King's armor and went straight to find Dora the alchemist.

“Hehe. You're turning all of these into Serena potions?”

“Yes. All of them.”

“But that's crazy. Where on earth did you get this much bread? Twelve thousand is honestly a little scary…?”

Ever since ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it became possible to synthesize the bread into potions, the items had begun to form their own value on the server. Because they could be sold at a decent price once turned into potions, even newbies could receive a few donations, quickly build up starting capital, and insert themselves among the established players.

But I wasn't going to sell them. To the Demon King, Lapiz potions were truly precious friends. I had to drink every last one in front of the viewers. Just as I was about to leave with the fifteen hundred completed potions, Dora stopped me and handed me a dimensional box filled with gifts.

“This is a two-second invincibility potion. This is a two-second stealth potion. And this is a ten-second berserk potion. I figured the Demon King would need them, so I threw in a few.”

She wasn't supposed to help the Demon King. It seemed that every time she made potions her alchemist experience went up, letting her unlock higher-tier recipes. What she called “a few” turned out to be a hundred of each. Since each potion sold for several thousand WK, the total came close to a million.

“This is too much. Won't you get kicked out of the village for helping the Demon King?”

“Hehe. What does it matter? If they kick me out, I can just join under you, Demon King.”

I stubbornly insisted she didn't have to give me everything, but I ultimately lost to Dora's persuasion and took it all. As expected, big-sister-type VTubers have a different level of persuasive power. That coquettish voice gently pulling people in—it's no wonder her hatchling fans lose their minds the moment they drop the cool act. After receiving an armful of potions, I returned to the Demon King Castle and began the full-scale dungeon renovation.

Having inherited system authority, I could edit the interior space as if I were an administrator. I could create mazes, redesign the outer walls however I wanted, and even insert short videos. The plan was for the operators to review and test the dungeon once it was finished, so I had to complete it before the server shut down at six today. Still, with about four hours of leeway, it didn't seem too difficult. I already had a few ideas in mind.

The only thing that bothered me was…

I wanted to pull off a surprise, but with this many people watching, they'd see the entire dungeon construction process. If I shrank my own screen and only enlarged the others, I'd get called out for “hiding the screen” and flamed. After nearly losing public favor from overzealous promotion last time, completely concealing the screen wasn't an option. Was there any way to thin out the crowd a little?

Fortunately, my worry didn't last long.

I'd been so focused on only watching Parallel streams that I hadn't noticed the overall issue. When I looked it up, it turned out MoovGun had done a lot of “favors” lately (in the streaming world, the term often carried the opposite meaning). As the dungeon owner, he was required to accept duels from anyone who wanted to claim dungeon rights, but he happened to own a three-star flying mount called the Phoenix. Since duel requests had to be made by right-clicking, and MoovGun kept flying away, the frustrated players had requested a formal trial. It looked like genuine anger, but it was ultimately just WWE-style content—one of the server's big events. The whole reason a courthouse existed was to hand down rulings on these ambiguous crimes and generate broadcast material.

Naturally the viewers' attention shifted, so I seized the moment. “I'm curious about the trial too. How about we watch it together and then work on the dungeon afterward?”

It seemed the boss and the rest of our members were all heading to the courthouse as well, so I pulled up the boss's screen from the judge's perspective and created a four-way split for the jury seats. Meanwhile I secretly turned my own screen off. The reason was simple: I wasn't going to attend in person. I planned to build the dungeon while watching the broadcast. I could quickly finish the secret surprise room I wanted to show the viewers while the trial was underway, then pretend to build the other rooms once it ended.

Thud. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Thud. Thud. The moment the sound of Keugaemang's—head judge and one of the starting members—gavel rang out, MoovGun shouted as if he couldn't accept it.

“I cannot accept this!! I cannot accept this! This is a conspiracy by forces trying to slander me! A conspiracy! Did making money bother you that much?! Let me gooooo!”

“Now now, Mr. MoovGun, this way please. You must stay in the detention cell until the fine is paid.”

“Aaaaaargh.”

The trial ended after about an hour. In that time I also managed to cleanly prepare my surprise. I had been nervously watching the clock, inserting videos and setting triggers, moving busily the whole time. Fortunately, I finished the setup right before the trial concluded, just in the nick of time.

The viewers who had finished watching the trial started raising their voices, saying it was time to begin construction. Of course we had to. The important parts were already finished long ago.

“I was just about to start again. Let me adjust the screen first.”

Users trying to infiltrate the Demon King Castle had to break through a total of four layers. First came the monster legion defensive line on the first floor connected directly to the entrance (a mob section, so there was no need to hire specific monsters). After passing the complex maze and countless traps that made up the great labyrinth on the second floor, they would finally reach the third and fourth floors—spaces where I could personally place monsters. The fourth floor was the surprise space I had been working hard on earlier, the banquet hall located right beneath the audience chamber where I would stay, so I left it untouched for now. The place I would work on now was the third floor, a continuous combat zone consisting of four wide rooms connected in sequence.

“There's a way to sort monsters by price. Let's see…”

The maximum cost per room was ten, and expensive monsters were strong but consumed a lot of cost. Only one could be placed per room. It was easy to understand if you thought of the famous card game Stone Duel.

However, even if I wanted to place strong monsters, I had no money—just as the viewers said. After hunting for five days and selling the reinforcement stones yesterday, I had earned a total of three million WK after fees. Of that, 1.6 million had been distributed to people, another million went to the kids, and the 300,000 I lent to Roofkr still hadn't been returned. That left me with only 100,000 WK. Ten-cost monsters started at a minimum of 300,000 WK, so summoning them was impossible.

“Looks like I'll have to hunt a bit more today…”

In truth I had been planning to borrow money. It seemed everyone had developed a genuine grudge against hunting.

“Since the complaints are so loud, I'll go the borrowing route for now. I'll contact the boss first.”

While working as the Demon King, removing my armor immediately transported me outside the dungeon. The moment I unequipped my gear, an unexpected person was waiting at the dungeon entrance. It was a nickname I saw every day, but we had only ever exchanged money and gone our separate ways. To be precise, it was MoovGun—the one I had been avoiding because I didn't want to get involved with him. He had just received a splendid guilty verdict in today's trial, yet it seemed he had already paid the fine and been released from the detention cell. Everyone else was busy preparing for tomorrow's dungeon raid, but the now officially server-certified ex-convict MoovGun apparently had nothing to do.

“Jia-nim. Have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you graduated from the dungeon?”

“It turned out that way. I became the Demon King.”

“From Skeleton Starvation all the way to Demon King Starvation… Today, I am jealous.”

It was pitiful, but at the same time satisfying. I had nothing more to say and tried to head to the village, but once again MoovGun perfectly blocked my path.

“Wait. Just a moment. I came to make you a new proposal.”

An unexpected offer popped out of MoovGun's mouth.

“Please make me an executive of the Demon King Army. I will sweep away every bastard who tries to harm the Demon King with this sword of red flowers.”

“…Did I hear that wrong?”

“Please, Demon King-nim. I will devote my full loyalty.”

A truly desperate person can't hide it no matter how hard they try, so I noticed immediately. MoovGun, who had always tried to act like a superior in front of our boss, was showing complete submission. Wasn't I the one who had always wanted to land a solid hit on him? I couldn't miss this opportunity.

“Is it even possible to become an executive? I think you'd need Wicker-nim's permission for that.”

“I already received permission. You see the economic criminal title? It says ex-convicts are allowed to join ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Demon King Army. Once registered, I can apparently be placed in a room on the third floor.”

The moment he lost his dungeons and even his mount was seized, MoovGun could have ended up with literally nothing to do. But he hadn't become a 1.8-million-subscriber YouTuber just by being a former pro gamer. It seemed he had come up with the idea of joining under me and roleplaying as the server's axis of evil.

When I tried registering him out of curiosity, it turned out he could be placed in a room for free at zero cost along with other monsters. So the server allowed people who gained criminal records through trials to be placed in rooms on the third floor like this. Just how high was Wicker server's degree of freedom? Still, accepting him for free felt like a waste. Since I happened to need money, charging a membership fee seemed reasonable. People said he had earned an enormous amount just from dungeon entry fees, so even after paying the fine he probably still had quite a bit left.

“Then pay the joining fee. We're a membership organization.”

It was an absurd proposal, but MoovGun unexpectedly accepted without hesitation.

“I'll pay anything. How much? One million? Two million?”

“Wait, you earned that much?”

“Jia-nim gave me close to 150,000 every day, so that alone is 750,000. The average dungeon entry fee is 25,000, and I've had nearly three hundred uses.”

He really deserved to be called an economic criminal, just like the title now displayed in front of his name. He had been hoarding money all by himself. I had earned 3.75 million before fees from twelve hours of daily hunting, yet he had made 8.25 million just by owning dungeons? What a thief.

“No wonder you got dragged before the judge. You should have shared the wealth like Ronze-nim.”

“But what can I do when money is so good? Liking money is a crime! Ugh!”

“Yes, yes. You're so great.”

Shaking my head, I registered MoovGun as an executive. The title in front of the former economic criminal MoovGun changed once again.

“The joining fee will be two million WK.”

“Here it is.”

“This is your joining gift.”

I received the two-million-WK check and handed MoovGun the two items I had drawn from the gacha earlier. It was fine to temporarily place him beneath me, but I didn't want to end up owing anything to someone I disliked.

“Use these to dress like a proper Demon King Army executive and draw a new mount.”

The moment he received them, MoovGun flattened himself on the ground and raised his voice.

“I OBEY!!!!”

“You're too loud.”

“I'm sorry! Demon King-nim!!”

Since we would be fighting together, we should split the money. No matter how much I disliked MoovGun, I couldn't become the same as someone punished for violating the anti-monopoly law.

“Every time I catch a party, I receive their entry fees, right? That's 100,000 WK per person. For every person you defeat, I'll give you that exact entry fee.”

“Wait, if you give it all away like that, what will you have left? You always hand out support funds everywhere…”

“Because I handed them out, my luck came back and I became the Demon King.”

“…Oh, so that's how it worked? I should have shared some too.”

“You're regretting awfully early.”

“Sob sob sob.”

Users could enter the Demon King Castle in parties of up to sixteen. The money I earned was the number of party members times 100,000 WK in entry fees. Each party was given thirty minutes to clear, and the Demon King side received thirty minutes of preparation time after defense. Assuming we faced average parties of eight people all day, if I won against all twelve parties that attacked during the server's twelve-hour operation time, I could earn up to 9.6 million WK. So it was fine to share with MoovGun for the people he handled. In a way it was a performance-based salary, which would probably raise his achievement score too.

“Loyalty! From today onward, any attack on the Demon King-nim will be considered an attack on me!”

“No, you don't have to go that far—”

“Kuhahahaha!!”

Whether he liked the suggestion or simply wanted to create broadcast material, MoovGun started going wild from that moment. Not only did he begin acting like a Demon King Army executive in an obnoxiously awkward tone, he even started messing around in the chat.

Whether it was because MoovGun spent the rest of the day wandering the server and picking fights with everyone, the next day the numbers were completely different.

The broadcast title was Underground Control Room Day 9 and my screen was split six ways, but the viewer count was strange. It looked like every single floater in Wicker Town had come. I was staring blankly in shock at the fifty thousand viewers reached in just fifteen minutes after starting the stream when my phone buzzed. It was the boss.