Chapter 136
Chapter 136
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 136
Chapter Title: The Sponsored World Was Real
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After sending off sponsorship worth 2 million won—
I returned to the fridge, grabbed a Zero Cola, took a sip, and suddenly had a strikingly novel thought.
'Come to think of it, 200 is exactly the price of one ring.'
No, not quite.
To be precise, since one ring cost around 230, it was actually a bit cheaper than the ring's price.
The ring I was referring to was, of course, the game item ring.
The one worn on the left hand. To complete the 'full set,' I needed to equip a ring on the right hand as well.
But did that ring really justify 2.3 million won?
Honestly, aside from a tiny difference in final damage output that let you slaughter monsters just a smidge faster, there wasn't much of a gap.
In other words, it didn't justify 2.3 million won.
'Man, I've really been playing a game that's nothing but a black hole sucking up shitloads of money like some turd.'
I'd even seriously debated whether to return to it during the day the comics supply got cut off.
A bittersweet feeling washed over me at the same time—and suddenly, a question popped up.
'Hold on.'
What if Dtamuk Thinking Army wasn't the last one? What if another god showed up?
And what if they started flaunting overwhelming funds?
It wasn't real money anyway—adding a few more zeros wasn't hard.
What if some villain appeared who tossed around 10 million won like pocket change? The moment that thought crossed my mind.
'......What.'
I let out a snicker.
Deep down, I believed Writer-chan wouldn't pull some trashy plot like that.
If she were going to, she'd have drawn a few meteors ages ago and gone, 'Oh no! Erin and Lady Eirene are in danger of being obliterated by meteors! Save Erin and Lady Eirene right now with 3,000,000 won in sponsorship!' or some bullshit like that.
If it were the director of my old online game, maybe they'd do it to rake in cash.
But our Writer-chan kept drawing comics, pouring her heart and soul into it, even when she could easily make money otherwise.
In the world of the comics, the gods were basically the writer. Since whatever the writer drew became reality in that world, it wasn't impossible at all—making it even more true.
Hadn't she gone overboard, drawing dozens of pages just for me, to the point where I wondered, 'Can you even make money off this?'
Like the 1:1 chat with Erin, or the Valentine's special where Eirene-chan went all-in with her 'Ultra-Premium Aged Wine Girl's First True Feelings for Her First Man (Me)' full-body gamble.
If the writer only cared about money, she wouldn't have bothered with that volume and quality—there were tons of examples beyond those two.
Thinking about it that way, I could gladly toss 2 million won her way.
The most surprising part? Even then, I wasn't losing out.
A full-color comic serialized over 100 chapters, packed to the brim with generous page counts per installment, featuring characters I loved and even similar romances—and at a quality you could mistake for official serialization.
She even upsized the breasts when I said I liked them big, switched the nun outfit to something shamelessly revealing, and crammed in suspiciously breast-focused panels galore—a custom service through and through.
There'd definitely be people who'd happily pay 10 million won or more.
'Yeah. If I don't trust Writer-chan, who will?'
I filled a glass with ice, poured in cola, and headed back to my seat—
'Huh?'
[ Give Me Money : xzas.wo.to ]
What was this link?
Instead of freaking out about what happened or saying she never dreamed I'd sponsor 2 million won, only this link popped up.
Maybe the reaction was plainer than expected... Well, I didn't want her forcing up the energy just because I gave more money.
'Let's check it out.'
I clicked the link without much thought.
* * *
The moment 'that' voice crawled up Pibiola's spine—
"...Huh?"
When she came to her senses.
Pibiola realized she wasn't in the flower field where she'd knelt in prayer, but in a dim, colorless void.
'Where... is this?'
She looked around, but it was pitch black everywhere.
Just as she tried to figure out what was going on—
"Over here!"
"!!!"
Turning at the familiar voice—
A muddy silhouette, indistinguishable in the blackness, entered Pibiola's view.
And—
The instant she faced it, Pibiola knew what it was.
She, a shaman, couldn't help but recognize it.
"You...!"
"Yeah. I'm Dtamuk Thinking Army, the one you and your mom slaved over to serve."
"!!!!!!"
This slimy, monstrous, repulsive thing was a god...?
It was utterly bizarre.
Before facing it, it had been an object of terror—but now that she faced it, it felt... like nothing.
Of course. The old me and the current me were different.
The current me—had drunk cola. Eaten chocolate.
Had received God's Plain Fact with every fiber of my being.
So, it wasn't scary.
Not some false god masquerading as a god before my eyes!
"You fucking bitch... They said they'd give an avatar if I spent money, so I did, and this is what I get? Total shit. I was gonna go around chopping heads of bitches like you, but now they want more top-ups? What kind of garbage game is this?"
She didn't know exactly what it was ranting about—
But Pibiola glared at it with a steady voice and shouted.
"We're not your toys! Our lives... aren't garbage!"
"Bullshit. You coded data chunks are programmed to say crap like that."
"Shut up!"
"Ha, fuck... You mom-fucked bitch must've lost your damn mind."
Killing intent emanated from 'that' thing she'd once revered as a god.
But she wasn't consumed by fear. Pibiola's body coursed with the warmest Plain Fact of all.
"We're not ■■! We're Elves! The name given by our Sole God—not some false being like you!"
"What?"
Soon after, it let out a creepy laugh.
Just hearing that ear-grating cackle used to make her think death might be preferable.
She'd regretted becoming a shaman to defy heaven so much it felt like dying.
Now it was different.
The false god's mockery... couldn't shake her, or the Elves, at all.
"2 million won? Fuck... Fine. Yeah. I just gotta spend more, right? Might as well blow this free cash on baccarat anyway—kill that shitty bitch and get my dopamine hit."
With those words, it extended what looked like a muddy hand—
"God commands! 2000 Balloons! I can spend 2 million won too, fuck! Send down a proper avatar right now, and tear that fucking bitch limb from limb!"
"!!!!"
2000 Balloons...?
Pibiola didn't know exactly what Balloons were. But as a shaman, she knew more Balloons meant more power.
Which meant maybe, just maybe, she was...!!!
—At that moment.
<<[What did you just say?]>>
"!!!!!!!"
Pibiola could tell.
It was as shocked as she was.
The voice of God's Proxy—the one that fawned over him, thanking him for the Balloons, always insisting she serve him well—
"...What? Why?! Fuck, they said 200 to smack that bitch?! I did it! I spent the money, so I'm a god!"
—Ignored its screams like they were nothing.
It simply recited the new era's order, customs, history—truth.
<<[Plain Fact one.]>>
"!!!!"
Pibiola's mouth opened unbidden. She shouted what she'd learned from Erin. Genesis Chapter 1, Verse 1—
"—The name of God is Igugwoden...!"
<<[Plain Fact two.]>>
"The proof that Igugwoden is the Sole God is all in the donation history...!"
"Fuck, what?! I spent money? What's this bullshit? Kill that bitch!!!"
'It' raged at God's Proxy, but it was futile.
No one could stand against God's will to conquer a new continent.
And—
<<[Plain Fact three.]>>
"If you claim to be God but your name isn't Igugwoden—"
——ZZZZZZZZZZZRRRRRPPPP!!!!
It couldn't even scream in death—
It split in half.
Literally, right down the middle.
Everything composing it divided 50-50.
Plain Fact three.
If you claim to be God but your name isn't Igugwoden—
"—you're a lying fraud...!"
Thud.
Above the kneeling Pibiola... God's Proxy—no, the former Proxy—spoke to the halved false god.
<<[Revenge, Dtamuk Thinking Army.]>>
<<[Whether your power is worth 100,000 won, 1 million, or even 10 million— it can't overcome even 100,000 won worth of power from our true Sole God.]>>
<<[That's the difference between a false god and the true God.]>>
<<[Even though we did everything you asked, you abandoned our world and insulted our kin...]>>
And—it faded.
It dissolved.
Pibiola finally realized.
Dtamuk Thinking Army's return... was the Proxy's doing.
The being that had spoken to her revealed itself here, mocking Dtamuk Thinking Army and nullifying his 'power'—
All thanks to the true Sole God's love.
<<[Shaman... Pibiola.]>>
"...Speak."
<<[Our world... has come under Lord Igugwoden.]>>
<<[The world of the true Sole God, Lord Igugwoden... is now untouchable by anyone.]>>
<<[Be it Balloons or whatever... nothing can touch Lord Igugwoden.]>>
<<[What killed you... was because it was God's will, and without a god, the world would have perished...]>>
<<[But... now, it's different. Our true God protects our world, and you...]>>
"...!!!"
God's Proxy's voice grew faint.
—Yes.
Just as there was a true shaman—no, Saintess Erin—to serve the new God, not her.
Her role as 'shaman' had ended—
So the 'God's Proxy' would dissolve.
"...I'm sorry... all this time."
"I resented you for fawning over the god... but you were just dragged around by Dtamuk Thinking Army too."
"Rest in peace... by the spirits' side."
Instead of a reply, a blinding flash filled Pibiola's vision.
Light.
The Elves now knew what this light was.
God's Plain Fact.
As Erin had said, it truly existed.
As she lost consciousness, she thought.
The great power of God, the Plain Fact that could do anything.
The power that summoned her Proxy and split Dtamuk Thinking Army in half—
Far exceeded her comprehension, with plenty left.
And—
《2 Million Won, Long Live Sponsorship.》
Realizing the Proxy had vanished with its final words, Pibiola slowly surrendered to the light.
—
God's true miracle
had yet to even begin.
* * *
"...Whoa."
Having read a comic installment so massive it was hard to believe it was drawn in such a short time, I blurted out my honest reaction in a dazed voice.
So—10,000 won had beaten 2 million won?
Against my donation with its own flair, our writer Give Me Money-chan—
—Had once again unfolded a plot with truly different flair.