Chapter 9. The Miracle of Wild Blossom (1)

It hurts.

Who was it that called pain a noble sensation? Who dared to say that pain was an unavoidable, shameful joy?

If that bastard showed up right now, spewing such nonsense—

The Four Heavenly Kings of Blood Flame, Asurat, would grind them to bits with his serrated sword and teach them what real pain was. That thought in mind, he squinted open his eyes. No—he flared his nostrils.

And precisely 0.1 seconds later, he came to bitterly regret his actions.

'… Goddamn it!'

The moment he opened his nostril intake valves, his olfactory nerves were assaulted with a vicious 108-hit combo of concentrated compost stench! A vibrating free hug of ammonia extract so ripe, so pungent, so goddamn rank, it could drop a demon!

'Kuh… kuhuk… kuhk…!'

In the blink of an eye, he was engulfed in an olfactory terror. A suffering akin to suffocation(?), and in that agony, he realized it.

The place where he, bound like a living lightning rod, had been tied up.

Was smack in the middle of a compost maturing facility!

"..."

He didn't want to breathe anymore.

Breathing for 24 hours straight in nothing but compost stench? He felt like the reek had soaked into his tears, his snot, his sweat, even the pores of his damn skin.

At this point, he'd rather be struck by Credos' Bloody Lightning. At least he could rely on his powerful natural regeneration to survive that.

But this smell?

That was beyond him!

Recovery? Screw that.

The more he suffered, the more sensitive he felt.

Living like this? He'd rather be picking bean sprouts from an elephant's butthole! At least then he wouldn't be hungry!

'Krrgh, just… kill me… or g-give me a nose plug…!'

Even if he had been defeated.

Even if his rebellion had failed.

Wasn't this going too far?

Asurat swallowed his sorrow before he realized it. Tears welled in his eyes as he flashed a venomous glare. He packed every ounce of resentment, regret, rage, and despair into that stare and directed it one way.

Toward Credos.

Has it been a while now?

That cursed Demon King had been chatting away with low-ranking demons since earlier. And that conversation was still stabbing Asurat's eardrums, annoyingly precise.

"Do you see the flower blooming at your feet?"

Kim Jangcheol asked.

The low-ranking demon nodded in response.

"Try pulling it out."

"…Excuse me?"

"I said pull it out."

"......"

At the command, the low-ranking demon hesitantly moved. Then, he carefully grasped the stem of the purple flower blooming at his feet.

"Easy, don't snap the stem in the soil."

"Y-Yes, my lord."

His hands became more cautious. If he damaged the roots, he could incur the wrath of the Demon King. That might mean not even his corpse would remain.

"....."

But deep down, the low-ranking demon couldn't help feeling pathetic about this whole scene.

How could he not?

The plant—no, the weed—he was digging up under the Demon King's orders… he knew exactly what it was.

This is…

Just a worthless weed.

Inedible, and if you force it down, it's a toxic plant that'll mess you up.

…Rustle.

By the time his hands were caked in dirt, the buried part beneath the purple flower was finally unearthed.

A lump slightly smaller than a ping-pong ball.

A cluster of wild potatoes, sprouting from a tuberous root.

'Just as I thought.'

The low-ranking demon's eyes filled with disappointment. The other demon workers around him shared the sentiment.

They all had to feel the same grim realization.

'All that talk of snacks and food tickets… and this is what it was based on? Just this…?'

They were disheartened.

There wasn't a single demon here who didn't recognize wild potatoes. No, any demon living in this abandoned land would know.

It was just a poisonous weed no one could eat.

Better off not existing.

'When I was little… I was so hungry I dug a few up and ate them. Almost died.'

The low-ranking demon looked down bitterly at the wild potato tuber in his hand. He remembered that reckless choice from childhood. The pain he suffered back then still felt fresh.

And honestly, he'd been lucky. Others who ate it died outright. It wasn't uncommon.

'And now he wants to farm this stuff?'

Was that seriously the Demon King's plan?

Was that why they'd halted the invasion of the human realm?

Just to plant some worthless toxic weeds?

He'd worked them to the bone for this?

"......."

The low-ranking demon barely managed to swallow the sigh that tried to escape. If the Demon King hadn't been standing right there, terrifying as ever, he would've let it all out—maybe even cursed aloud.

Disappointment.

Hopelessness.

A Demon King willing to drag all of demons down the path of ruin just to plant and raise poisonous weeds. And he didn't even seem aware of how foolish and reckless his decision was—this Demon King, Credos.

Me.

Us.

My child.

What were we supposed to believe in now?

'Would it be better to turn our backs on this barren land… and flee to human territory?'

If they did, they'd probably end up hunted, slaughtered.

But maybe that was better. At least they could die with something in their stomachs. Even if it was just grass or a few berries from the roadside.

In this place where even clean water was a luxury, where they were suffocating on compost fumes and forced to farm hopeless poisonous plants, dying of hunger and exhaustion was… the only outcome.

"…Haa."

In the end, the low-ranking demon let out a low sigh, unable to bear the crushing sense of despair.

And yet, Kim Jangcheol remained composed.

Even after watching all the low-ranking demons, including the one who'd unearthed the wild potato at his command, fall into utter disappointment—he was unfazed.

No—he even wore a faint, wry smile as he watched their reactions.

'Tsk, tsk. Leave them a little longer and they'll start bawling.'

But…

'That won't happen.'

Kim Jangcheol was confident.

Since when?

From the very beginning.

From the day he entered the body of Demon King Credos—back during the marching ceremony held in the Hall of Destruction. He'd seen them. The humble little flowers blooming shyly in corners of that vast hall. The proof of wild purple potatoes.

The moment he recognized them—

A massive puzzle had assembled itself in his mind.

'That's Solanum stenotomum… the closest species to wild potatoes, first domesticated in the highlands of the Andes.'

Even looking again, he was sure.

And those flowers appeared not only in the Hall of Destruction, but in many places near the Demon King's castle as well. Yet no one had touched or harvested them.

Not even once.

Thanks to that, he came to a realization.

The demons of the abandoned land didn't know how to remove the toxicity from wild potatoes. They hadn't inherited the techniques of detoxifying wild potatoes used by the Quechua people, who once lived around Lake Titicaca in the highlands of central South America.

That was why they didn't know how to eat wild potatoes.

'But… I can.'

With the knowledge he possessed.

If he put that knowledge to proper use.

It was entirely possible.

He could make it happen.

He saw a glimmer of hope.

On top of that, even the climate here was perfectly suited for his plan.

'No matter how I look at it, this place is way too similar to the highlands of the Andes.'

He'd already suspected it while playing the game.

Demon King Credos.

The castle he resided in.

Chavin de Huantar.

To reach the deepest part of this abandoned land?

You had to clear every other region first. Then, after passing through a map of endless mountain ridges, you could finally enter the Demon King's territory.

He had seen those changing landscapes through the game screen before. And once he entered the Demon King's body, he could feel it in his very skin.

'This Demon King's territory is the highest elevation in the abandoned land. Just by estimation, it's about 4,000 meters above sea level. And it's insanely dry. Humidity is probably no more than 20%, and the temperature swings are crazy. It gets well over 20°C during the day, then easily drops to -10°C at night.'

Dryness that makes your skin crack!

Temperature swings that rivaled a sauna and an ice bath!

In short, a mountain climate straight out of hell!

But that hellish climate was strikingly similar to that of the region near Lake Titicaca in the central Andes. And it was precisely that brutal weather that would become his greatest weapon.

'…Just like the Quechua people, who once made clever use of this extreme environment.'

Kim Jangcheol lifted his head.

He looked at the demons.

They were still trying their best to hide their disappointment.

"...From now on, everyone."

He spoke to them.

"Go dig up a hundred more of these things."

"…Excuse me?"

"Do it."

A short and sharp order.

The unbreakable rule of demon race: when ordered, you obey.

Though hesitant, the low-ranking demons immediately moved at the command of their Demon King. They scattered around and began carefully digging up the wild potato stems.

Thanks to that, they quickly gathered one hundred stems.

"Well done, everyone."

But no one smiled at the praise. Everyone still wore expressions full of despair and gloom at the plan to cultivate wild potatoes.

But that didn't matter.

Soon enough, that despair would turn into hope.

He would make sure of it.

"And I'm sure, all of you have a lot on your minds."

"...…"

Perhaps his words were unexpected.

A few low-ranking demons looked up at him with puzzled expressions.

He gave them a faint smile.

"You're probably thinking it. That we're planting some poisonous weed we can't even eat. That the Demon King's finally lost his mind. Am I wrong?"

"Yes."

"Who just answered?"

"…I'm sorry."

Zephyros sheepishly raised his hand.

He was gently ignored.

Then, Kim Jangcheol continued.

"I understand how all of you feel. That's why. I want to show you that this wild potato we'll be cultivating from now on is, in fact, a crop you can eat. And me, well, I prefer showing to explaining."

"..."

Showing?

What did he mean?

Was he going to force-feed that stuff into their mouths until they were on the verge of death and make them chant "I'm so happy!" while chewing it down? Was he planning to "train" them all like that?

Everyone listening to the Demon King's words involuntarily flinched at the fourth vertebra in their necks, spooked by how disturbingly plausible that scenario sounded.

And then it came.

"Which is why, from now on, we will be spending a delightful time making test samples of chuno, using wild potatoes."

Kim Jangcheol opened his mouth.

The miracle of wild potatoes, developed by the ancient people of the Andes.

The first step in solving famine in the abandoned land. The soon-to-be-legendary gourmet processed food that would one day make him rich with Happy Points. A future specialty of the abandoned land that would take the human world by storm—chuno production had been declared.

And hearing that declaration from afar, the living lightning rod Asurat, tears welling up in his eyes, thought to himself—

'Chuno or whatever the hell, can you just let me go already, for f**'s sake?'