Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Evil Organization's First Round Table Conference
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"We will now commence the first Round Table Conference of the evil organization 『Legend of Devils』."
Thud, thud, thud.
Pingbalrez, dressed in a sharp suit, adjusted his glasses and opened the conference. The participants were as follows: me, the Demon King and Four Heavenly Kings rank 1, 『Fallen Magic Demon King Lucifer Zekniel』 (with 2 phases).
Then there was the Violet Magic Tower Master and Four Heavenly Kings rank 2, 『Yuna Yurensuto Violetiris, Being of Infinite Emptiness』.
Pingbalrez, the Four Heavenly Kings rank 3, was presiding over the meeting as 『Yuri Frostlover』.
And the weakest of the Four Heavenly Kings was none other than 『Espoir du Eternal Dark』.
Each table had a fancy nameplate engraved with their names, the windows were carefully curtained off, and only a single cool-toned light hung overhead.
I crossed my arms sternly and regally, graciously permitting the meeting to begin.
"Proceed──with 『The Grand Plan (Genocidal Apocalypse)』 that will bring our world to ruin."
"...I-I'm dying here. I can't even stretch my limbs...!"
"What's wrong? 『Being of Infinite Emptiness』..."
"Eekyaaah!!"
Yuna rolled across the floor, overcome by the thick chuunibyou flavor. Her limbs curled up, her spine tingled uncontrollably—it was too much for her.
Even I felt a faint ache in my heart trying it out after so long. But watching Yuna turn into a dried squid with her "Gyaah!" made the role-playing worth it.
Meanwhile, Pingbalrez didn't bat an eye as he hammered the Outer God with verbal crits.
"『Espoir du Eternal Dark』, the weakest princess of darkness among the Four Heavenly Kings—report first."
"I told you, that's not my name...!!"
"Hey, watch your tone. Want a taste of dark magic?"
"The girl has never claimed such a name, nor does she ever want to—owaaah!!"
Perfect.
The 『Outer God』 born from the previous session had, after prolonged conditioning and restraint, taken on the feel of a familiar. Loyalty was still iffy, and she ticked like a bomb,
but we were steadily breaking her spirit with carrot-and-stick tactics: erase the dog-like settings if she obeyed well, shove in penalties like "add 'nyan' to the end of every sentence" if she didn't.
And of course, she wore a bomb collar for emergencies. Safety was assured. The Outer God thought for a moment before speaking.
"In the girl's opinion, the target is an idiot."
"An unusual assessment. Elaborate?"
"He's too half-assed, isn't he? Sure, not killing Oh Hye-in and taking her wealth could be excused. The thing called Mungae by his side is of questionable threat, and cooperating with locals is essential for adapting to this new society."
But.
"If he'd bothered to gather even basic knowledge... he could've done anything. If he'd eagerly asked Oh Hye-in about this world, learned what a 『smartphone』 is that people carry all day..."
From that point, knowledge snowballs. The internet's ocean holds any info you desire.
Guns, gunpowder, international conflicts, the societal taboo on killing. With that foundation,
"First, achieve economic independence. Relying on others' goodwill is too risky. How do you know Oh Hye-in won't kick him out the next day? Start with light robbery-murder. Use that cash to build capital, open an orphanage..."
"Open one?"
"Raise obedient killer weapons through brainwashing from childhood, overthrow the nation..."
"Yeah, you're out."
The Outer God's chest was brimming with malice. I quickly slapped her with a 30-minute chat ban. Leave her be, and folks might think we're actually an evil organization.
I clapped to liven the mood.
"Alright, let's continue the meeting."
"...B-but what are we even discussing?"
"First off, I'd like to request modeling for the next tentacle batch. Design #3 wasn't great in practice. The magical girl seemed more pained than pleased."
"It's about time for the next monster appearance, Tower Master. We should brainstorm something that builds tension while advancing the main plot..."
As we engaged in productive discussion, the Outer God forcibly shook off her chat ban and yelled,
"You said you'd brainwash Roderus and extract info—!!"
"Watch your tone."
"I-In the girl's opinion... no, but forget intel-gathering—you guys were just slacking! Do your jobs!"
"........."
Pingbalrez and I guiltily averted our eyes. The Outer God huffed and grilled us fiercely, starting by jabbing at Pingbalrez.
"Hey, succubus! Why'd you scrap the plan to pickle her in tentacles for pleasure, turning her into a female corruption slave? Why no 300x sensitivity?!"
"It lacked... aesthetics. I could do it, but we'd miss the precious agony phase. The best part is her slowly awakening to her femininity and lust, then one ambitious night, hesitating before finally giving in..."
"Did you or did you not screw up?!"
"My apologies for pursuing personal desires. But the top authority, the Demon King, slacked too. Punish me."
Pingbalrez passed the bomb. The Outer God whipped her head around, glaring at me with fiery eyes.
"You said you'd shatter her mind, make her a slave obeying any command! Why skip the planned 'Now nothing scares me' operation?!"
"Well, the story was rolling so fun I got carried away. Can't just dump bleakness without buildup for some intel—too wasteful..."
"Did you screw up or not?!"
"I... I did... No, screw that, it's my call, you brat! 『3000x Sensitivity』!"
Kyaaah—!
The Outer God let out a final scream and logged off. But she wasn't wrong. There was merit to her words.
Still.
"Roderus fits in too damn well. Weirdly so."
"Indeed he does."
More decent than expected.
Doesn't proactively cause trouble, follows orders perfectly when given goals. Even after Oh Hye-in poked him a few times, no fists flew; no rapier at Mungae either.
A truly broken personality would've stabbed first, context be damned.
I'd prepped a full course of forced hypnosis, humiliation play, and high-greed for TS resistance, but never used it.
And the food... he eats too damn well.
A noble slurping doenjang jjigae like he could debut as a mukbang YouTuber? From a Western-like culture, no less.
At session start, when we first served food, he wolfed it down like a week of starvation. Wasn't even set up as a glutton char...
So naturally, my thoughts drifted there.
This guy's hiding something.
Maybe he's actually decent deep down. Warped by bad upbringing? Innately good?
The Tower Master seemed to think similarly, occasionally eyeing Roderus with concern—until recalling my gut punch, furrowing her brows.
Our evil organization's cold intellect, Pingbalrez, asked me,
"Innate nature or environment aren't factors to consider, mad wizard. Even if A has a heartbreaking backstory deserving pity, if he's gunning for your throat, you kill him."
"........."
"Roderus targeted your life. He still might. Any reason to abandon eliminating the threat and prepping for Redburn over 'sympathy'?"
True.
And I won't baby anyone out of pity. If they come for my neck, I'll go for theirs; malice gets malice returned.
The Parshimm Hyunjeon I fired at Roderus was meant to kill. Without his artifact layers, his mind would've shattered. I was fighting for my life then.
But when I have leeway.
"Everyone deserves one chance, don't you think?"
"........."
"Not about being good or volunteering. Just... anyone, you know? Something every human should've had... I want to give him that shot."
Back in childhood, counting what I lacked while staring at the night sky. Slum was full of kids like me—cursed fates.
Next-door bro was one.
Poor as we were, he'd split his dalgona half and hand it over. A good guy with dreams of escaping this hellhole.
But with a wallet too thin for textbooks or lectures, studying was poison. Begging bread crusts to chew through limits inevitably hit.
Heard he passed out from malnutrition, rushed to ER. Stared at the bill, muttering how many books that could've bought.
He fell off the tightrope.
I watched through the window as he gave up dreams. Tattoos crept on, bad crowds followed.
His end was cliché: crime, arrest. The aspiring lawyer rotted in prison.
Staring at the stars, I wondered: if I'd had money... if I could've given him half my dalgona like he did me.
Would he have become a righteous lawyer for the poor? Who knows, but not a criminal.
Just reminded me of that.
Roderus got teary over laughs and chatter.
Remote play meant narration couldn't deep-dive his backstory. But he seemed... yearning for a 'chance.'
I've got dalgona overflowing from my truck. And before me, a pitiful life.
I'm feeling generous enough to share half. Will you take it, Roderus?
If so, I'd toss down the lifeline.
"Of course, we'd vet thoroughly first. Any way to dig into Roderus's past?"
"Send a letter to Duke Redburn?"
"Think that'll fly?"
"Then no real options."
Then the Tower Master quietly raised her hand. Glowing lightbulb illusions spun around her head. I graciously permitted speech.
"Speak, 『Yuna Yurensuto Violetiris, Being of Infinite Emptiness』... Ow!"
Low kick to the shin.
"Hey, about that 『Tower of Trials』 hidden piece finder."
"Oh, right. One student found it somehow?"
"Name's... Envers Redburn. Probably same family..."
"Oho. I'll poke around via the Open Pavilion leader then."
Meeting adjourned. Gather info, decide Roderus's fate. Whatever his story.
On the way out, Pingbalrez quietly asked,
"So... we stop the tentacle teasing?"
"Nah."
"Understood."
Salvation's salvation, revenge is revenge. My bruise from Roderus is still purple. Won't heal anytime soon, Roderus.
"Then three-pronged tentacles as planned, Demon King."
"Proceed."
"As you command."
Sinister tentacles reached for the magical girls.
Mobbed once.
Once amid the vanguard strike team's group assault.
And as Tower of Trials clears deepened, barely reaching with maxed tactic efficiency as 3rd army member—once more.
Envers had beheld the wondrous beggar thrice.
First meeting: learned of martial arts.
Second: the murim world.
Third: beggars.
Only then did Envers seek the beggar's tutelage, and he accepted.
He called himself a nameless beggar, who chased the Heavenly Demon into a dimensional rift, trapped in this space.
No way home? This is his final bed. Humans must leave names in death. Martial arts live in the flow.
For that, he began teaching Envers, granting 8th-floor access anytime. A fateful encounter.
From basics.
"Roots like sturdy old tree, unshakeable lower body. Balance never falters—then you're fit to punch."
Envers followed without complaint. Centering was tedious repetition, but pure martial passion lit his way.
The beggar approved. How could a teacher not delight in a devoted student?
After studying till he slept on one leg like a crane, next phase: memorizing forms.
Beggar started with a brief exchange.
"Enemy strikes top-down—how block?"
"Bottom-up thrust?"
"Other ways?"
"Dodge with footwork, left-right parry, artifact."
Beggar nodded, asked again.
"Bottom-up thrust—how exactly?"
"How...?"
"Foot placement? Center? Horizontal or vertical? Loose for next move, or tight for one-shot?"
"...Hard to grasp."
"That's a form."
Even bottom-up has near-infinite variations: angle, flow, inner power. No human exhausts them.
Thus, standardized moves: forms. Beggar drew a crescent moon skyward with a stick.
"Rising Moon blocks upward, sharpens next strike. My old friend's. Thoughts?"
"...Beautiful."
"Now this."
Vertical to horizontal crescent. Motion wholly different, yet to Envers, same moon.
"What’s this?"
"Not rising, but looks like Rising Moon. Strange..."
"Good eye. Same form—same intent. Both hone the follow-up."
Thus, learn forms unbound, follow true but enlighten self. So spoke the beggar.
Envers dazed at the cloudy words.
Beggar chuckled, added,
"See the core, not shell. One honest question."
"Yes."
"Wake to find body female—snap sword?"
"........."
Vague, but Envers shook head. Body change wouldn't snuff martial fire.
"Born armless, legless?"
"Mouth holds it."
"Butterfly?"
"...Antennae swing?"
Beggar roared laughter. Pleased, Envers grinned sheepishly.
Laughing long, beggar praised heartily.
"Yes! Heart matters, not vessel. Bold, ambitious answer—delightful. But..."
"Speak."
"Your heart holds more than sword. No shame. One blade alone? Sword ghost—madman."
"........."
"Why grasp the blade?"
Beggar's milky eyes pierced; Envers bared all: family abuse, self-vow that day.
And his brother, Roderus.
Envers sifted chaotic memories: shared paths, moonlit pacts, betrayal. Hate or trust? Still lost. But.
"...Want to meet again."
"For what?"
"...Dunno."
"Probe your heart then. Refine, embody intent—murk clears."
Beggar rose; Envers too.
And the mad wizard backstage jumped up, hollering, 'This kid's a true wuxia protag!'
Judging from years of subculture knowledge and gathered intel, Roderus seems like a family assassin raised inhumanely. Heavy Redburn brainwashing.
Human body, but tool—blame the wielder, not tool?
OK. Let's make this guy human.
Operation: 『Teach You Love』.
Multi-angle youth events, clubs, gym swim class, girls' beach trip prep swimsuit shopping, tentacle 2nds, thug hunt, personality test, gushing cash and blooming bonds, yuri, finale battle, freedom.
I'll pour 120% daily life. Rest is on you...!