The Tyrant of Living Hell

The transaction was straightforward.

“Lord of Mass Extinction, it seems the results were less than satisfactory.”

Unfortunately, the angel was right. The community marketplace had almost nothing that matched what I wanted—no suitable creatures, no useful magic techniques.

“It’s not impossible for a lifeform to wield mystery through its own abilities alone. But those kinds of creatures are incredibly powerful, and creating them is extremely difficult. Whether naturally occurring or self-created, no one would want to sell them to others.”

Damn it. I had more than enough points to rot in a pile.

Besides trying to create low-intelligence lifeforms capable of using magic, the tasks I was currently working on were as follows.

First, using Yogur-tosoth’s magic to bring heavy rainfall to the newly acquired desert region and terraform it into something closer to plains using jelly-based organisms.

Second, comprehensive improvement of the desert forest and its ecosystem.

Third, enhancing the aggression of the candies and evolving “normal lifeforms” to serve as prey for the carnivorous candies. I was using the community trades to acquire lifeforms that could survive in deserts or evolve to do so. The camel-eating candies had grown smaller or larger, adapting to hunt a wide variety of land creatures.

Fourth, overall management of ecosystem health. Abhojuth handled the Nectar Oasis, but the rest of the ecosystem was entirely my responsibility.

This was what happened when you had no subordinates.

“Why not just get some subordinates?”

I didn’t need any subordinate strong enough to challenge me.

“What kind of player would willingly become a subordinate to the Lord of Mass Extinction?”

That was exactly why the position of Demon King was so lonely.

“Ah. I see. Of course.”

No matter how thoroughly I searched the community, magic and magical lifeforms seemed to be considered highly sensitive information. Everyone kept them tightly under wraps.

What the hell? Back on Earth, people filed patents and shared every damn technology they had.

“I’m sorry, but that wasn’t true on Earth either.”

Back then, if you had the money, there was no information you couldn’t buy.

“That part is correct.”

It seemed that in the eyes of others, mystery was something akin to a major corporate secret.

I lamented the fact that I had come from a world governed purely by physical laws, where mystery was nowhere to be found no matter how hard you looked.

“Actually, that’s not entirely accurate either.”

?

“Hmm~?”

Well, at least that’s what the average person on my world believed. Moving on.

Anyway, within the game, magic and mana were far too common and came in far too many varieties.

Even when I tried to find something relatively universal, I couldn’t tell which was more impressive between [Introduction to Tertiary Multidimensional Mystery Studies by Tertive Gaokoshushu] and [Primer on Aeio’s Poungar Gurun]. Honestly, I had no ability to distinguish what the difference between them even was—or if there was a difference at all. What the hell is Poungar Gurun?

“Ah, Poungar Gurun. That is the proper noun used in the world called Teuncha to refer to its unique system of mystery. If I were to translate it into terms Lord Biin could understand…”

Magic.

“Let’s go with that…”

Was there no one out there who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could blow my mind? The greatest expert in magic. Someone who could teach me everything about magic from start to finish.

Even after browsing the community, everyone either took magic for granted, came from worlds with very little magic, or knew nothing about magic but possessed bizarre scientific or biological knowledge that I knew nothing about. They all grouped up with their own kind. It didn’t seem like there was anyone willing to teach a complete beginner.

“Strictly speaking, Lord Biin, you belong to the group with abundant knowledge of bizarre science and bizarre lifeforms. From their perspective, anyway.”

I see. Well, if there was no other way, I’d just have to evolve on my own, bash my head against the wall, and create a virtual magical lifeform I’d named yogurt…

Hm? What’s this? He specifically singled me out for a chat? Why? How?

Sesaisa. The name felt vaguely familiar. Like something I’d almost forgotten, buried deep in memory. Hmm. Who was he again?

“He’s the player who bought Nectar from you for 296 points.”

Ah. That guy…

Hmm…

“Huh.”

“What do you mean, ‘huh’? Look, if I want to win, I have to do whatever it takes. Even if that means communicating with an intelligent being…”

“Weren’t you the one who said you hated intelligent beings with a passion?”

“Hey. Don’t you understand priorities? Did I come to this game because I didn’t want to talk to intelligent beings? I came here to win the game.

I have to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠win first before I can wipe out all the intelligent beings in the universe or not. So should I just give up on communication because talking is uncomfortable and throw away this game where actively using the community is key to victory?”

The angel seemed unable to refute that. She closed her mouth for a moment, then spoke.

“……You really don’t like talking to other people, do you?”

That was harsh.

Even if it was true.

Still harsh.

Anyway, when I said I didn’t want to see his face, the conversation appeared in the form of a chat window. The other party spoke first.

It was completely emotionless text. He was probably writing in his own language.

I replied with equally emotionless text.

The reply came immediately.

He’d taken the bait.

Lucky me. Was the world telling me to become a god or something?

I turned to the angel. She was staring at me like she’d seen something she shouldn’t have. I asked calmly.

“I have a question.”

“I suspect you have more questions than I do right now?”

“Then keep that question for the rest of your life. Is there a way for me to be certain that the player I’m about to deal with won’t lie, deceive, or scam me?”

The angel faithfully answered her duty.

“Well… if you make it an official trade, it should be fine. Whether it’s points, goods, or knowledge, as long as the word ‘official’ is attached, Sesaisa must deliver the promised compensation unless he himself is mistaken. Naturally, Lord of Mass Extinction, you must also hand over the Nectar normally without any tricks.”

I see. Then I could try making a fair trade with this guy.

…….

I glared at the angel.

“Hey. Is there any way I can look at this idiot’s ecosystem?”

“It’s possible if you get permission, but viewing another player’s world consumes quite a lot of divine power.”

“I don’t care. I need to see just how badly this moron has trashed his own ecosystem.”

I made the request through the angel. The other side apparently wanted to see my world as well and showed me theirs.

And then… Holy shit.

I was at a complete loss for words at this disastrous world.

Even if someone tried on purpose, it would be hard to ruin it this badly. Almost every living thing had dried up and died.

When I checked how they were getting food, it seemed the ascetic, self-cultivating magic-training race ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠created life through faith every time they prayed. Either that or they bought life with points.

And since God simply handed down goods, industry was trash. Technology seemed high only because of the high magic score.

In short, the lifeforms of this world were covering all their food needs simply by praying to God and studying magic.

What a fucking idiot.

On top of that, his race consisted of ridiculously huge elephant-like creatures. I was so frustrated I thought I’d lose my mind. Shouldn’t they at least reduce their body size to lower energy consumption???

The original terrain here was forest, but these bastards had pulled out every tree in their ecosystem, causing soil erosion and turning the land into a barren wasteland with not even a single blade of grass left.

When I sent that, Sesaisa, who had seen my beautiful ecosystem, sent me a message that sounded like he was practically spitting.

“Lord Biin’s angel. You must be having a really hard time. Our player came from a purely spiritual world, so he calls both plants and animals ‘meat.’”

“Sesaisa’s angel must be having a hard time too. Our player calls all mystery ‘magic.’”

“That’s just how it is.”

“Why did these two have to meet? Seriously, the other players in this game have the worst luck.”

As we talked, it became clear that this guy named Sesaisa…

Sesaisa and I simultaneously asked our angels the same question: “Is it allowed to manipulate the other’s world?”

“Um… You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can allow changes equal to the points exchanged between you. And if the condition is that you receive the other’s points in proportion to your contribution to their world? Also, you must not manipulate with malice or set traps. Just promise that and it’s fine.”

“Still, unless you form a complete alliance, there will be limits to your authority. You’re not forming an alliance, right?”

Yeah. We’re not.

The reason was obvious without needing to say it.

This Sesaisa didn’t have a single subordinate god. No alliances in sight either.

He must have felt his own shortcomings in his world, yet he had killed every player he’d met.

“Just like the Lord of Mass Extinction.”

And the other world’s score was 16,091. Extremely mystery-focused, but nearly equal to mine.

In short, this guy was very likely one in a thousand who could actually kill my Yogur-tosoth.

A player who had scraped together nearly 16,000 points in just three World Collisions, creating an extremely deformed yet efficient, unique build.

He was a monster of the same kind as me. We would have to fight someday.

“For the record, he thinks the same about you, Lord of Mass Extinction.”

I figured as much.

And I’ll open your eyes. I’ll turn your pathetic ecosystem into paradise.

Things were going to get very busy until the next World Collision.