Bread and Destiny 2

While my split consciousness was busy consulting the enemy world, I had to sit through Mihun touring my own world in real time.

Real time meant one second here matched one second of my perceived time exactly.

For someone like me—who compresses and accelerates centuries to evolve life forms—this was pure torture. But the bastard insisted on experiencing it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with that exact sense of time.

“Do you handle your world the same way?”

“Of course. This immortal commands no subordinates.”

“……Wait. The protection period lasts dozens or hundreds of years. You’re telling me you spend all of it in real time?”

“The time perception of mortals and immortals differs… What you might call ‘tedious’ or ‘painful,’ this immortal considers the duty and joy of watching over the of every being that lives in his world.”

This guy is insane.

So between collisions he spends centuries in one-to-one real time, managing his world all by himself?

Well, sure. It’s probably more efficient for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nurturing a world. But since Sesaisa and I lack subordinates, we took mythic-grade traits, created split consciousnesses, and made avatars. Is he seriously brute-forcing the same problem with this idiotic method?

I kept watching stubbornly as his main body sent information to the clone.

“Oh. Oh…… Oh! I see. Your understanding runs this deep. Then there is no need to observe further. I shall go to the place where you are troubled and impart the essential secrets.”

Our consciousnesses shifted in an instant. Both of us stood inside the open-pit mine.

The open-pit mine was nothing but breads mindlessly devouring the overflowing cream, lying sprawled across the ground and occasionally pecking at the dirt.

“Since you explained the principle by which I might produce spiritual medicine without damaging my qi, I shall likewise explain the principle step by step and elevate your creations to a higher realm.”

“Do whatever you want.”

Mihun pointed his fan at my collapsed breads.

“First, let me ask. Is the problem that these [Breads] lack and merely continue meaningless lives?”

“Yeah. I want them to be useful in my world, or at the very least attack the enemy world. While keeping their intelligence low.”

Mihun answered instantly.

“Naturally. Raising their intelligence would be utterly useless here.

Intelligence is the faculty of rational judgment. What rational judgment could these insignificant [Breads] possibly make?

At best they would think ‘Let us stockpile more strength’ or ‘Instead of reproducing, let us conserve as much as possible.’”

He was right.

“They are merely living organ-machines, no different from corpses that happen to breathe. To solve the problem, we must properly instill desire in them.”

“I already tried reducing cream supply and territory to create competition. They simply shifted toward even more conservation.”

Mihun clicked his tongue and scolded me.

“Tsk tsk. That is instinct, not desire. Living by instinct, of course they grow lazy. All creatures do.”

“?”

He continued.

“A sudden question, but what do you think Charm and Culture are? Why do they elevate the station of insignificant beings?”

If you asked me that, I’d always assumed they were just game stats with those functions. I’d never given it deeper thought.

But it seemed there was a crucial reason.

“Many believe Charm is something that is ‘emitted,’ yet the truth is different. Charm actually ‘converges.’”

“Like how we speak of ‘eye light,’ yet eyes do not emit light to perceive objects but absorb reflected light?”

“An amusing analogy. Indeed. For Charm to exist, the presence of others is indispensable. In other words, Charm is the power that draws the flows possessed by other things into oneself.”

I see. And?

“Then by what means is that Charm raised?”

“Culture.”

“Correct. Then what is Culture? The essence of Culture is precisely . means ‘meaning.’ Anything will do. The meaning it pursues. The meaning for which it had to be born. And the meaning that ultimately decides it.

Even simple music contains the meaning of wanting to please the listener, the performer’s meaning, and the music’s own meaning. All of it is .

Without such , it is merely existence (). Nothing but a corpse that happens to be alive. Cultivation is the act of defying the of a single given life, which is why the principles of the world reject it……”

“Ah, never mind all that. So how exactly are you going to give to my breads?”

The shout seemed to shake the very divinity composing my current consciousness. I couldn’t hide my bewilderment.

What the hell? What did he just do?

The angel who had been silently watching us both rushed over in a panic.

“Ahh! Lord Mihun……! Please refrain from infusing mere conversation with your authority……!”

“The question itself was so pathetic I could not endure it. Listen, Biin. Your question must not be ‘how’ to bestow .

Engraving onto a mere creation is simple. You are already at the standard level. Simply use your authority and grant it appropriately. But that is not the level of discussion we are having, is it?”

Mihun snapped his fan open with a sharp crack and poured orthodox theory onto me.

“The important question is ‘what kind’ of to bestow. Originally, is irrational. Culture is supremely inefficient. Charm is likewise irrational. Yet somehow life is drawn to that very madness. Because life by nature seeks meaning.

In short, suppose you gave them the of becoming slaughter weapons that destroy the enemy world. Suppose ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they now take pleasure in slaughter and that becomes their purpose in life.

How long would it last? Their essence is merely eating the food you created and rolling on the floor. It would not last long. Because it is too far removed from their true nature.”

It has to match their essence.

For some reason, it felt like this transcendent player Mihun wasn’t speaking to my ecosystem’s surplus breads at all. He was speaking to me—Biin.

What did I truly want?

Even while researching the anti-intellectualism build, I had always known. This wasn’t the world’s strongest build. There were far more normal, efficient paths.

Yet why had I clung to it? Why had I poured so much time into it among all the possible games?

Wasn’t it to prove something?

“……”

That human beings, intelligent life, civilization itself were utterly unnecessary to this world. That the world would run perfectly fine without them.

That civilization’s development and success were merely the product of countless coincidences, not because it was inherently superior.

In other words, proving that humans were wrong. If I lost, it would simply mean I had been wrong.

My eyes snapped open.

Unconsciously, perhaps I had forgotten the essence in my pursuit of victory in the game.

In other words, hadn’t I been treating my ecosystem like humans performing selective breeding for their own advantage?

The ferocious monsters of my ecosystem had not been raised through artificial selective breeding.

I hadn’t even intended to create such monsters in the first place.

The most terrible and powerful monsters in my ecosystem had simply evolved to be ferocious because it was advantageous for survival. I had merely helped that direction along—an extremely ‘natural’ evolutionary path.

Yet even the most savage bisyakheet understands Culture. It knows courtship, builds beautiful nests, and knows how to show off.

Even my final weapon, Yogur-tosoth, had moved beyond merely following my to harbor the arrogant desire to command and dominate others.

When I first began the game, because I hated humans, to prove humans were wrong—or to prove that I was wrong—I had chosen an ‘inefficient’ path on purpose. I refused surrender, eradicated every civilization, and sought victory. It seemed I had forgotten that version of myself for a while.

Then what I should do wasn’t to remodel the breads to suit my taste.

Rather……

“I’ve found the method.”

“Oh? Have you now?”

“I understand the direction, but I’m not sure if it can be realized. Will you help?”

“Of course. This immortal has mastered every principle of mere technique; the only thing lacking is the way of immortal arts. What difficulty could a ritual at your level possibly pose?”

I described the concept I had in mind. Mihun told me what would work and what wouldn’t, precisely correcting my direction. In doing so, he paid the price for the consultation I had given his ecosystem.

“Very well. I have taught you every necessary secret formula. Proceed.”

I first focused on a single yanggaeng drinking nectar from the Nectar Lake.

It was the heroic entity the angel had once mentioned.

An overwhelmingly powerful body, sturdy and efficient organs, flashy decorations, and the enormous syrup flowing within it granted powerful combat ability, a robust immune system, fighting spirit, extremely high intelligence and mental strength, and overwhelming charm. It was also the only specimen that had incorporated [Candy] genes.

I would use this one as the base.

I delivered a revelation ordering it to follow the Syrup River from the Nectar Lake all the way to the open-pit mine.

It followed the current and the revelation that had descended upon it, riding its own instinctive desire as it crawled up to the open-pit mine.

“Gegegege……”

It approached the [Breads] sprawled across the open-pit mine, devouring cream. Was it here to eat? To fight?

Neither. Following the yanggaeng’s instinct, it attempted to exchange genes with them and produce offspring.

The breads were bewildered…… They had no idea why this was happening to them.

But their bodies were genetically close enough to jelly-type life forms that mating—and the subsequent processes—proceeded smoothly. The yanggaeng devoured the breads, violated them, entangled their bodies intricately with its own, and gradually grew larger.

I immediately selected the Level 6 Culture trait I had been saving.

I consumed massive amounts of bread and cream to make up the shortfall.

The special yanggaeng, originally a hybrid of five different life forms, now had bread genes grafted onto it. It was no longer something that could be called a yanggaeng. A new life form born from the combination of jelly, pudding, gummy, candy, gel, topping, dough, and milk—it was a genetic cradle containing every life form I had created, both directly and indirectly.

It now possessed a clear, distinct purpose.

‘I want to mate more.’

‘I want to produce more offspring.’

‘I want to grow larger.’

‘I want to eat more.’

‘More!’

A vulgar yet powerful desire. The strongest instinct any living thing possesses—the urge to increase itself.

Whether because it now carried the genes of every life form I had created, or because of the powerful narrative= that had elevated it to this realm, it greedily enlarged its body. It devoured breads, consumed cream, and grew ever more colossal.

The breads, which had only increased in size, were helplessly slaughtered. They were eaten, became parts of its body, or were forcibly mated with and began giving birth to similar offspring.

The process repeated until the creature filled the entire open-pit mine. An entirely new species had completely taken over.

‘I want more!’

It devoured every last drop of Creamland’s massive cream reserves, ate its own children, consumed every metal and mineral in the open-pit mine, yet still seemed to feel lacking.

“It’s grown as large as a hill.”

“Because it kept eating and fusing.”

‘More!’

It eventually reached a single conclusion.

If it simply placed its mouth where the cream flowed out, that would solve everything.

It thrust one snout into the spot where cream ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠poured from Creamland.

It thrust a second snout into the place where the Syrup River overflowed toward Creamland and began sucking in the massive nectar flowing from the Nectar Lake.

With the rest of its body it dug into the earth, growing large enough to exhaust every ore vein in the open-pit mine.

“I will tear out the god fragment residing in the 《Open-Pit Mine》 and everything connected to it in 《Creamland》 to cover the cost.”

I frantically poured in my own divinity, the power flowing through the Nectar Well and Creamland, the massive jelly mass inside the open-pit mine, the countless discarded life forms and shells and coral from the Nectar Well, the yogurts floating in the air, the milk spirits, and even the dough that had yet to fuse—everything was crammed into the creature and the fragments adhering to it.

Throb—!

“The pulse has begun. A humble yet magnificent .”

Rise. Born from the lowly creatures of the ground, O Mother of All Things who embraces every being in this world. Answer my call.

Throb—! Throb—! Throb—!

You are the goddess of abundance and fertility! If Yogur-tosoth is the sky, then you are the master of the earth that supports this world.

Come forth! Second Legion Commander of the Dessert Legion!

O Shuc-rimmurath who commands a thousand baby breads! According to the granted to you, reveal your form now!!!