Chapter 27. The Magic of Cost Reduction (1)

'He's insane. He must be insane. The Demon King Credos, this bastard—no, this punk—isn't he seriously out of his mind?'

Sirgi flushed red without realizing it.

She was dumbfounded.

It was just absurd.

And on top of that, she was also somewhat flustered.

"..."

Don't let it bother you.

First, just finish this potato seed-cutting or whatever it is. Once that's done, there'll be no need to deal with Credos any further today. And honestly, that alone would be a blessing.

That's when it started.

She focused entirely on the task of cutting seed potatoes.

She divided the six blades into two sets. Cut with three, handed the other three to the Demon King. Then cut with the ones she got back, and passed the used ones to the Demon King again.

The process repeated, and she grew increasingly skilled.

Click, like a machine.

Slick, with precision.

Thanks to that, Kim Jangcheol was quite pleased.

'....Yes, this is it, Sirgi! This is exactly why I brought you here!'

Seed potatoes being cut cleanly and quickly like they were on a factory line! And even in the midst of that, the blades were being thoroughly sterilized—such a neat operation!

This is efficiency!

'And cost reduction!'

Cost reduction.

That was the number one principle, motto, philosophy, family creed, future dream, and ideal that Kim Jangcheol had held ever since his grad school days.

In fact, it was only natural for someone who had stepped into agriculture.

Farming isn't child's play.

It's a war, far removed from the concept of healing.

It's a harsh reality, a ruthless world ruled by capitalism.

It couldn't be helped.

Even in South Korea alone, how many farms suffer losses every year, unable to cover their costs? How many farmers are drowning in debt? Anyone who knew the reality would be horrified.

'That's why. The basics of farming are saving. Cost reduction, no matter what.'

If you can't do that, you'll fail.

Even with the same fertilizer, how cheap can you get it while still achieving maximum efficiency? How can you brew nutrient-rich liquid compost from the cheapest ingredients? How can you minimize expensive pesticide usage while still preventing diseases and pests?

Life or death depends on getting those basics right.

That's the reality of farming.

And right now was no different.

'If I hadn't been able to put Sirgi to work cutting seed potatoes today... I would've had no choice but to call in the farming corps.'

He would've had to call at least several dozen people.

Only then could they barely match Sirgi's pace.

And the cost?

It would've shot up.

'Snacks aren't free, after all.'

Kim Jangcheol bit his lower lip firmly.

These days, every time he brought in the farming corps, it was mandatory to provide snacks—and of course, the snack was chuno.

But that chuno wasn't something he got for free. On the contrary, it was an incredibly precious resource. It was the lifeline that all the demons under his command had to rely on until the first successful potato harvest in this abandoned land.

Naturally, it had to be conserved as much as possible.

'Besides, even one chuno the size of a ping pong ball every three or four days is enough to keep demons from starving.'

That was something he'd learned firsthand while living here.

The demons here had incredible resistance to starvation.

Humans on the strictest diets?

Not even close.

If you dropped these guys in Korea?

Even feeding them one cutlet every ten days, they'd survive just fine. They could practically rival cockroaches in resilience.

And frankly, that was only natural.

'Those who couldn't endure like that already starved to death long ago.'

This abandoned land was barren.

So barren that it had absolutely nothing.

And those who had survived for dozens, hundreds of generations in such a place—well, what more needed to be said?

'So... there's no need to give snacks to the farming corps every single day either. We need to conserve snacks as much as possible. Which means I need to work the Four Heavenly Kings as much as I can. They can each handle a ton of tasks alone, and they only have one mouth to feed. It's perfect.'

Maybe that's why.

Sirgi, cutting seed potatoes like a machine right before his eyes—she had helped him save dozens of chuno portions today alone, and that made her look more beautiful than ever.

'......'

If there's anything to be cut from now on, I'm definitely making her do it.

Kim Jangcheol made that decision again and again as he gazed at Sirgi with deep affection. He carefully wiped her blade.

So she could cut potatoes even better.

But without spreading any disease.

Like polishing a golden calf hidden in a vault. Like admiring a 24-month matured housing subscription account. Like double-checking the very first paycheck from a part-time job. He checked, inspected, and wiped with the utmost care.

Thanks to that (?), the seed potato cutting was completed smoothly. It came with the beautiful result of successfully achieving cost reduction.

But he wasn't satisfied there.

The task of farming is endless by nature.

And so is the path of cost reduction!

"...Anyway, what I'm saying is, you see those sliced potatoes laid out over there in the shade? That's what we call curing. We're going to leave them out like that for about five days."

"......."

"They need time to settle. Just think from the potato's point of view. You're sitting there fine, and then suddenly, you're chopped in half out of nowhere. Would it hurt or not? Of course it'd hurt, right? And if we plant you into the soil in that state, wouldn't that sting? Of course it would."

"......"

"Hey. Aren't you going to answer me?"

"...Ugh."

To Kim Jangcheol's question, Asurat, one of the Four Heavenly Kings, scrunched up his face in agony. Then, he glared fiercely at Kim Jangcheol with a burning look of resentment.

"...."

Still bound to a post by the Demon King.

A Demon King who kept muttering incomprehensible words like nitrogen fixation every day while electrocuting him with lightning. And now, that same Demon King casually strolls over to blabber on about something he doesn't even understand.

How could he possibly see him in a good light?

Of course, Kim Jangcheol didn't care one bit.

"So you have to give the potato time to heal before planting it. That way, it won't be as vulnerable to soil-borne bacteria or pests."

"......"

"Still not answering, huh? Tsk. Are you mad at me or something?"

"....."

Of course he was!

No, it wasn't just being mad!

'I'd rather you just kill me…'

Asurat glared at Kim Jangcheol with eyes full of dark resentment. He resented the Demon King. And he was in despair over his own situation.

The truth was, he was suffering.

It hurt, and it was exhausting.

How long had he already been tied up here?

How much longer would he have to endure?

He didn't know.

Which only made it more hopeless.

At least until recently, General Fikamir of the 1st star legion had been strung up beside him as the second lightning rod.

But not anymore.

On the day the 1st star legion collapsed, the moment the 1st Star Master was annihilated, Fikamir had dispersed like smoke and ascended.

"......."

Alone once more, suffering in isolation.

Yet, cursed with a tenacious life that refused to end.

These days, he found himself resenting his overwhelming regeneration ability—his own innate trait.

Maybe that was why.

Why Asurat had resolved to lash out.

Why he suddenly floored the gas pedal on a full-throttle tirade of venom toward the Demon King.

"An answer? What kind of answer are you expecting from me? You want me to praise you or something? Huh? Or maybe... maybe you're hoping I'll critique how your lightning has gotten a little weaker lately, Credos?"

".....Eh?"

"Don't pretend to be surprised. The truth is, Credos, lately I've come to realize something after getting struck by your lightning every single day. Haven't your powers declined? Somehow, your lightning just doesn't hurt as much as it used to. Don't tell me... you're so weak now that you can't even kill me anymore? Huh?"

...So just kill me already.

End it cleanly.

Honestly, he wanted to beg—if that's what it took. But his last scrap of pride wouldn't allow it.

So he provoked the Demon King even more viciously.

"Yeah, that's it. I finally get it now. You can't kill me anymore, can you, Credos? You've gotten weaker, so even if you want to kill me, you can't. You were planning to tie me up here and execute me as an example, but you failed. And now you can't let anyone see that weakness, so you made up that 'lightning rod' excuse to cover it, right? That's it, isn't it?"

"......."

"See? You're not answering, so it must be true. Right? You, Credos—no longer strong enough, nor bold enough, nor brave enough to kill me. Doesn't that make you pathetic? Huh?"

So get angry.

Put an end to me already.

Asurat waited, watched the Demon King's reaction after pouring out his venom.

And he hoped.

Hoped that the Demon King would finally snap in fury.

That a bolt of lightning would spark from his fingertips and end this cursed life, sever this chain of torment.

But...

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"

"....What?"

"I came here to let you go. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay tied up?"

"What the hell…?"

What was he even saying?

What did I just hear?

'Let me go?'

He couldn't believe it.

Instead, he let out a bitter laugh.

The Demon King must be mocking him again—just as he was about to spit more venom—

"Huup—"

The Demon King climbed the post.

He reached out. And then...

Snap.

The mat came undone.

The mat that had bound him all this time unraveled far too easily.

".....Huh?"

Thud!

Freed from the mat, Asurat fell with a dull thump below the post. His limbs, unused for so long, refused to obey him, and he tumbled face-first into the dirt.

Because of that, it hit him all at once.

'What…?'

A strange feeling welled up.

Why was his vision dark?

Why did the smell of earth flood his senses?

Why was there dirt in his mouth?

Which meant...

He was...

".....!"

He lifted his face in a hurry.

Before him, standing tall as if in command—

It was the Demon King, Credos.

"How is it? Is it sinking in now?"

"......."

"Still doesn't feel real?"

"......."

He didn't know.

Whether this was reality,

Or just a dream.

Asurat lowered his head.

He saw the back of his hand as it pressed against the ground. He clenched it. Fingers digging into the soil. The sensation at his fingertips—breaking soil, texture, moisture—everything.

...Drip. Drip.

What were those clear droplets falling onto the back of his hand?

Could it be... his own tears?

It seemed so.

Which only made it feel less real.

"I, I mean... are you really...!"

Are you really letting me go?

Does this mean you're forgiving me?

Am I no longer a lightning rod?

Am I going to regain my title as one of the Four Heavenly Kings?

Is that... truly what this means?

With a heart pounding, a throat tightening, eyes burning, he asked the Demon King.

He wanted to ask.

And perhaps, the Demon King understood.

Because he answered, with a benevolent smile.

"Forgiveness? Nope."

".....Eh."

"Me? Forgive you, the one who defied me? Why would I do that?"

"......"

"I'm just doing this for cost reduction."

"......"

Wait... what?

Asurat's heart, on the verge of an emotional breakthrough, deflated completely. His constricted throat was now filled with disbelief. His teary eyes dried up in an instant.

Kim Jangcheol explained.

"Cost reduction. You don't get it? If I keep you tied here, I have to keep this post up, right? Don't you agree?"

"Y-Yes..."

"Right? But think about it. Isn't that a waste of space?"

".....Eh?"

"It is wasteful, right? This post is stuck right in the middle of a field. A field where I need to plant potatoes. If I pull it out, that's one more spot I can use for planting. So, yeah, it's wasteful."

"Well, now that you mention it…"

"Right? Even you agree, right?"

"Yes, that's true…"

"And besides, if you're tied up all day, I need to assign at least two farming corps members to keep watch over you. That's a waste too, if you think about it. Watching you is technically a job, a shift. So I'd have to give them chuno as snacks. Doesn't that make sense?"

"...."

"That's why I'm letting you go. Pulling the post to plant more potatoes. Saving on snacks I'd otherwise have to give to your guards. It's all part of cost reduction. So from now on, you're being converted to a commuting position."

"Excuse me?"

Asurat flinched.

Commuting... position?

A word he'd never heard before.

But just hearing it sent a chill from his eardrums, through his auditory nerves, straight to his cerebral cortex.

"Um, what exactly is this commuting... thing...?"

"What else? Commuting is commuting. Just make sure you show up here on time tomorrow morning."

"Wait, so if I 'commute' here…"

"You're asking what you'll be doing?"

"Yes."

"What else. You'll be a lightning rod."

"......"

"When you get here, stand right here and hold your arms up like this. So the lightning can strike nice and clean. And if you can, do some posture research in your free time."

"......"

"Not into it? Well, too bad. No one takes a bolt better than you."

"........"

"Not a fan of the commute life? Wanna go back to being tied up?"

"......!"

Shake, shake, shake!

"So we'll stick with commuting. Starting tomorrow, okay?"

"......"

Asurat, once the Blood Flame of the Four Heavenly Kings, who made all tremble across the abandoned land—

Now, subjected to a twisted game of false hope and cruel reality, realized a bitter truth:

There was no room for forgiveness or mercy under the ruthless motto of cost reduction.

Of course, Kim Jangcheol didn't care in the slightest.

This was only the beginning of his true cost-cutting saga—one serious enough to make even greedy landlords and Scrooge himself consider taking notes.

[T/L: Read more chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]