007. The Power of Money
“...You said you're not selling the magic points?”
Drakson was so shocked that he didn't even notice the meat he'd stuffed in his mouth fall out.
“Yes.”
Casey picked up the dropped piece and tossed it in the trash. He wiped the corner of Drakson's mouth with a napkin.
“Are you sure? He actually contacted you?”
“Yes.”
“He's really selling magic points?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“He mentioned human money.”
“That's it? Is he truly insane?”
Magic points, quantified from human emotions and life force, were different from those in the Demon World.
Directly tied to life force, they were purer and more refined.
They were the only key to unlocking the chains of Dimensional Interference that suppressed Demon Kings in every way.
They could even break through long-stuck limits.
That was why all demons desperately enrolled in the Demon King Academy to become Demon Kings—and no Demon King in history had ever sold their collected magic points to another.
Let alone for something like 'money,' created by humans and usable only in Alein?
All emotions, all life, were finite.
Even the fiercest rage.
Even the most searing grief.
Even the despair of wanting to die.
They all wore down and faded with time. Hatred toward a Demon King was no different. The magic points collected dwindled day by day.
That was why Demon Kings had to steadily kidnap new princes or princesses or stir up trouble in the human world.
Alein, overrun with heroes, required extra caution, making magic point collection even harder than in other dimensions.
Which made this proposal especially suspicious.
“Berge demanded a long-term deal. He wants to steadily convert Hildean Kingdom's rage into quantified magic points.”
“Sounds like a huge amount.”
“Hildean is one of the top powers in the south. And the people's adoration for the crown princess is immense. If we receive that rage and grief long-term...”
“It'd be enormous.”
The canon was right after all. Mock the canon or not, kidnapping the best princess yielded results like this.
“What the hell is he scheming?”
“Maybe he's just crazy.”
Who else would be mad if not a Demon King who spat on the canon while following it more faithfully than anyone—and now selling magic points?
“Could be.”
Drakson propped his chin on his hand, lost in thought. But he soon reached a conclusion.
“Accept it, no matter what.”
No matter the dirty trick.
No matter how fishy it felt.
“Turning this down would be stupid.”
It was an irresistibly sweet temptation.
“...In the world. Selling magic points for mere human money?”
Drakson and Casey weren't the only ones thinking that.
Even the dark elf who'd proposed the sale on the Demon King's behalf couldn't comprehend it.
Why did demons risk their lives crossing dimensions with Demon Kings?
Loyalty and trust, sure, and desire for achievement—but the influence of magic points was huge. To obtain purer, higher-quality magic points than those in the Demon World.
“We got some money from headquarters when we first came down, right?”
“Spent it all going back and forth to Hildean. Transfer magic circles are damn expensive.”
They hadn't been given much mid-world currency to begin with, and the journey spanned the continent's extremes.
“Magic points matter, of course. But that's only if you're alive to use them.”
“Hmm.”
Gordon, who'd overheard the situation, nodded at that part.
“So, with human money, there's a way?”
“Yeah.”
“How, if even magic points won't work?”
“We'll buy them.”
Elves.
And
“We'll need a front man.”
Demon King and heroes.
Demon King and kingdoms.
The era of unconditional hostility as they grew accustomed to each other had passed, but it was just a transitional phase—the Demon King remained the invader.
Naturally, the dimension's races hated and despised demons.
So even if Berge threw money at humans to hire them, they wouldn't obey him.
They'd probably report the crazy Demon King who'd come down instead.
What he needed was...
“A face for the front.”
To properly become a mastermind.
Someone to disrupt the human world in his stead when he roared at it as a Demon King.
Someone absolutely loyal, who would follow faithfully without betrayal.
'Heroes will take longer than expected to reach here, so let's set up the board now.'
Heroes thirsted for fame and didn't hide their movements.
Naturally, the continent buzzed the moment it seemed heroes were mobilizing. Foolish as the canon's dictates, but it worked in Alein.
Because the canon was even more idiotic.
Crossing the continent's extremes would take time.
It was a race against time. Secure a front man first, hire humans to obstruct the heroes—or let the heroes arrive first.
As he pondered, they reached their destination.
The kingdom of Horton, bordering the Erjest Mountains. And its fortress city, Hotenwork.
A northern continental kingdom with vast territory but sparse population due to barren land.
The defensive line guarding the kingdom's northernmost border.
“Halt! Who goes there!”
“A mercenary returning from a commission.”
Berge held up the yeti pelt he'd stripped on the way. Moments later, the thick gates creaked open.
“Wandering the mountains alone? Ballsy.”
“Caught a yeti by yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Don't recognize the face.”
“Talking like you know every mercenary in the fortress.”
A flicker of greed in the soldiers' eyes, but no further inspection. Hotenwork saw countless mercenaries come and go.
But that was all Berge knew of Hotenwork.
He'd never bothered learning about humans in his previous life.
What he did know for sure.
'There's a slave market here.'
Alein was a dimension where slavery thrived.
Humans dominated the continent, endless wars with other races, captives turned straight to slaves.
As interracial wars ended, humans filled most spots, but covert other-race trades persisted.
“Hmm, how to go about this.”
One Demon King had said: The underworld's ecosystem resembles demons'.
The law of the jungle. Power above all—if you had it, nothing was unattainable there.
And slave markets were inseparable from the underworld.
“Just beat them up a bit, and they'll spill everything.”
Bonus: Ask about Hildean's response too.
Berge stepped lightly forward.
“Buuuurp...”
Mercenary Bark let out a long belch. The beer's carbonation rose pleasantly.
“You filthy bastard, don't do it in my face!”
“Just instinct.”
“Instinct five times a minute?”
“That's a total rabbit!”
His comrades chuckled.
Good day. Monsters had assaulted the fortress, repelled with minimal losses. His mercenary band scored plenty of yeti byproducts.
“Speaking of, shouldn't we leave soon?”
“This sweet spot?”
They'd settled in Hotenwork three years ago, lured by big money for risking life. Prepared to die.
But it was a goldmine. Monsters appeared daily, but veteran soldiers handled them perfectly—no real threat, just loot.
“True, but rumors say a new Demon King built a tower in the Erjest Mountains...”
“Ah, that nonsense?”
Bark snorted.
“You must not know Demon Kings well. They don't build towers in suicidal spots. They pick accessible places for heroes or soldiers. And kidnapping Hildean's crown princess? From Erjest? You seen a Demon King trek to the continent's end for a princess?”
“Then the rumors?”
“Wrong. Demon King’s probably near Hildean, maybe one or two kingdoms away at most. That's standard.”
“Hero Guild's in uproar, though? Even offering huge rewards, they refuse Erjest commissions.”
“Showbiz. What’s the crown princess to Hildean? Irreplaceable heir. They'd pay anything—Guild's just squeezing more. You know how money-mad heroes are.”
“Fair point.”
The mercenaries nodded one by one.
Then.
“That's an intriguing story.”
A heavy voice pierced their ears. In a blink, one mercenary screamed, flying through the air.
“Gahk.”
He slumped limp.
“...”
Cognitive dissonance. Bark couldn't process what happened. His delayed reaction let the intruder neutralize all comrades in that brief gap.
“One mouth's enough. You seem the most knowledgeable.”
The shadow dusted his hands. In the dark, cold obsidian eyes sank in—Bark's legs buckled.
The alcohol burned off instantly.
Years as a mercenary screamed: Unwinnable.
“Don't panic. Answer my questions honestly, and there'll be no issues.”
A pale hand patted his shoulder.
Bark nodded frantically.
“I-if you spare me, anything...!”
“Shh.”
A pale finger sealed his lips.
“My ears work fine.”
“Y-yes.”
“That Demon King talk was interesting.”
Bark inwardly cursed the comrade who'd brought it up. If he survived, he'd smack the back of his head.
“Is it true a Demon King's in Erjest?”
“Rumors say so. But few believe it. Demon Kings don't build towers where no one can reach.”
Indeed.
A smile curled the man's lips.
“Heroes aren't taking commissions?”
“They refuse Erjest ones. Say it's too dangerous, but honestly, just bargaining for more pay.”
“Even with the crown princess kidnapped?”
“No. No trash loves money like heroes. Guaranteed. Rumors say Hero Guild and Demon Kings are in cahoots anyway.”
“I see.”
Bark sighed in relief at the satisfied look.
“One more. Wandered back alleys for hours. Nothing.”
No subject.
“No underworld in this city?”
“N-no.”
Good, he knew this.
“Hotenwork has legions stationed year-round, so security's tight. Too many rough mercenaries for underworld to take root.”
“Got it.”
Wasted effort.
The man clicked his tongue.
“Then you'll guide me.”
“Pardon?”
“Where's the slave market?”
“East gate side...”
“Good, you know. Lead.”
“...Pardon?”
Click.
Prediction confirmed.
'Nesting in Erjest Mountains was the right call.'
No heroes stepping up. More time than expected.
But Hildean, frothing at the mouth, would send top heroes—no room for complacency.
“This way.”
The mercenary led to a massive mansion not far from the east gate. Crowds of presences inside.
High walls enclosed it; broad garden within, tents scattered throughout.
Iron bars enchanted with magic inside tents, slaves chained within.
“This the place?”
“Yes.”
Berge scanned the garden with the mercenary in tow. Dozens of slaves, but none he wanted.
All humans.
“...Not to your liking?”
The mercenary cautiously asked, seeing his grimace.
“This all?”
“...For now.”
“Means more.”
“Yes. But for VIP guests only—no random entry.”
“What if I must enter?”
“...”
Clink.
Berge tossed him a money pouch. Bark caught it reflexively, peeked inside, and gaped.
“Th-this?”
“Find me a slave I like, it's yours.”
“R-really?”
An experiment.
Berge knew humans loved money. He'd seen them fight and feud over it.
But to what degree? Would they betray humanity for a Demon King enemy?
So he tested. Not Demon King level, but enough to see if this thug who'd knocked out his comrades would play nice for cash.
“Entrust it to me, I'll do my best!”
Greed and zeal flickered in his eyes.
Success.
'At this level, it's like magic points for demons.'
Demons betrayed for mid-world magic points too.
“Entrust it to me, I'll do my best!”
'How much is this?'
Not overflowing, but solid gold coins. Not copper or silver—gold. Two of them.
Matched the price from selling today's yeti parts. For just guiding? No brainer.
Luckily, Bark had connections. Built over three years in Hotenwork.
“Ah, really can't.”
“Please, man. We're not strangers. And you're buying high—good for everyone, right?”
“Ugh, fine.”
Slipped a silver to the guide, opened the basement door.
Down dimly lit stairs, a vast cavern welcomed them. Scattered iron cages.
Only five.
But Bark was certain the gold pouch was his. A smile on the client's lips.
'What's he eyeing?'
He followed the gaze.
There, an elf with snow-white skin.