Chapter 18

We turned back time a little.

For the past few days, even while indulging in food tours and wandering around the Free District of the outer city, we hadn’t forgotten to discuss how to flip this damned barony upside down.

Originally, the plan before coming to Sinan had been simple:

1. Pretend to be a priest and get close to the Baron.
2. Secure the position of his personal physician.
3. At the right timing, quietly “take care of” Comrade President Kim of Sinan and his two heirs, then disappear.

Since the Salt Kingdom only recognized inheritance through bloodline, the barony would revert to the crown once the family was gone, then be handed to a new noble.

We’d assumed the next lord would be better and that Sinan might improve a little.

…That was a mistake. Once we arrived, it became clear that was almost impossible.

New noble? New baron? You think these are volunteer workers? If someone willingly takes this backwater, it means they’re desperate. And if they’ve already stuffed gold into every pocket along the way, do you think they’ll risk shaking up a system that squeezes coin so well?

Not a chance. I’ll bet my balls on it. Why fix a machine that already grinds peasants into gold?

Compassion? Pity? That’s a luxury nobles extend only to other nobles. Peasants are cattle. Ever seen a farmer let an ox rest just because it looked tired from plowing?

That was the general wisdom we bought by pouring expensive drinks into the mouths of tavern drunks—the kind who turn into philosophers after a few cups.

You might think, what do drunks know? But in this city, being a drunk in the Free District instead of rotting away in the Peasant District already meant you had enough status to survive.

And after cross-checking, it was clear the so-called “tavern philosophers” were right.
So we changed the plan.

“Our strength alone won’t cut it. If we want to end this for real, not just poke at the edges… we need something overwhelming. A deus ex machina.”

“You’re right, but where do you expect to pull that from?”

I pulled out a card from the Hero’s Backpack and held it up for Shia to see.

“What’s that?”

“An angel summoning ticket.”

“Angel summoning… oh, that card the angel bitch gave you? Rip it and she’ll appear anywhere within ten minutes? You’re planning to call her and use her to finish this job?”

“Yeah. I only have three, so it hurts, but it can’t be helped.”

Shia frowned.

“That won’t work. You know it too. The Celestial Realm’s beings—”

“I know. They can’t just interfere because of the Trial. But…”

I remembered what the angel had told me back then:

Direct intervention in battles against Demon Kings or monsters is forbidden. It would distort the Trial. But if it’s not that kind of case, we can be flexible. As long as there’s a proper justification—a cause no one can dispute.

I flicked the ticket between my fingers.

“The Total Universe System doesn’t punish angels because it hates them. It just wants fairness. So, if we give it a reason so obvious it can’t refuse—a cause too strong to ignore—it’ll look the other way.”

“A justification?”

“Exactly. A justification.”

I laid out the plan forming in my head.

“…You’re going to convince the Baron to create a religion with himself as god?”

“Right. A petty human calling himself divine while the gods’ voices are silent. Deceiving tens of thousands with false scripture.”

“From the gods’ perspective, it’s an insult beyond anything. Can you imagine how furious they’d be?”

Shia let out a low whistle.

“…That truly is overwhelming justification. What a devilish idea…!”

“So? What do you say?”

The girl’s lips curved into a mischievous grin.

“Perfect. Let’s do it.”

Baron Gelrok Av Sinan slumped into his chair with a sluggish motion.

“Do you still have more to say?”

I returned from my thoughts and bowed once more.

“Yes. I’d like permission regarding the scriptures.”

“…Permission?”

“I’ll need access to everything about the people beyond the Darkryu Wall. All the records. To craft doctrine that can truly consume those peasants, I need to know them inside out.”

The Baron, half-sprawled in his chair, thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

“…Chamberlain.”

A gray-haired butler bowed deeply.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Bring him everything he asks for.”

“…Are you certain?”

“I’m certain. But assign a knight to watch him, and three maids for attendance. Make sure he’s treated well.”

“…Understood.”

“And you, David, was it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“…I expect much from you.”

“It is my honor.”

“Go, then.”

“Yes, my lord.”

With a faint smile tugging at my lips, I quietly left the office.

After that, everything went just as I had expected.

Blinded by greed, the Baron handed over every scrap of information I demanded under the pretext of “custom-tailored scripture.”

Through it, I began digging into the hidden truths of life inside the Peasant District.

I met the Baron’s two sons. Healers’ rites here and there—simple priestly miracles—were enough to earn trust.

And so five days passed.

Click.

Lying restlessly on a bed far too big for one person, I heard the window creak open in the dark of night. A small figure leapt gracefully inside.

“Geom-shin~.”

Before I could speak, Shia bounded onto the bed and dove into my arms.

“Oh, my retired Demon King. You’re here?”

She clambered onto my stomach, giggling, then pressed her head into my chest with ridiculous enthusiasm.

“Running low on Geom-shin essence. Time to recharge~.”

“Hey. Hey… that tickles. I said it tickles!”

“Quiet, will you? It’s only at one percent charged.”

Rub rub rub…

“…You’ve been clingier the last few days, haven’t you?”

Instead of denying it, Shia hugged my neck tighter with renewed enthusiasm.

“Now it’s at one-point-one percent.”

“…Will you even hit full charge before the year ends at this rate?”

“Down to zero-point-nine percent.”

“…Why is it going down!?”

“Good question. Guess I’ll need high-speed charging.”

“High-speed—hey! Don’t pinch! Don’t hit! Don’t bite! Are you a piranha!? And what’s with pulling my hair now!?”

I grumbled at her violent affection, but instead of pushing her off, I just stroked her head.

“Hee… up to three percent.”

“Fine, do whatever you want.”

Shia sprawled across me like a lazy cat for a while, soaking up my warmth. Finally, she let out a satisfied sigh and rolled off to the side.

“Heeey…”

“Charged enough?”

“Mmm… thirty percent.”

“Why stop there? Why not go all the way to one hundred?”

She shook her head with a sly grin.

“That’s for future me. For now, thirty percent is satisfying enough. The tastier the dish, the more you savor it in moderation, don’t you think?”

“…What a gourmet you are.”

Instead of answering, she sprawled wide beside me with a smug look.

“Anyway, finally. I feel alive again. Ugh. Efficiency be damned, we should’ve stuck together. Why did I brag about checking beyond the wall alone? Five days felt like forever.”

“Drama queen.”

“It’s not drama. I spent two hundred years gnawing on loneliness before fortune finally gave me a companion. To be alone again after only days together—it was unbearable. Like they say, once you’ve had meat, you can’t go back. The trauma nearly broke me.”

“……”

“The longer it went on, the more I doubted myself. What if it was all a dream? What if meeting you and being freed was my delusion, and I’m still asleep against the cold walls of my ice fortress…?”

I tried to laugh it off, but stopped when I saw her hand trembling faintly.

“So whenever that thought came, I looked at this.”

She gave a small smile and lifted the sword-shaped pendant hanging from her chest, jingling it softly.

“…If I hadn’t had this, it would’ve been unbearable.”

I searched for comforting words, but instead just pulled her into a tight hug.

“…You did well. Next time, if something like this happens again, we’ll stick together like you said.”

“…Mm.”

Later, we spread the piles of documents across the bed and shared what we’d discovered.

And what we pieced together left us both stunned.

“Wait—you’re telling me they supplement food shortages with monster meat?”

“Yeah. Here, check this part I marked.”

“…It’s true. Then the strange rations I saw… were really processed monster meat.”

“They must have plenty of that. But… is it really safe to eat?”

“…For some creatures, it isn’t completely impossible. But only if it’s purified with mana or divine power first. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise?”

“It triggers mana mutation in the body.”

“Mana mutation? What happens then?”

“Death—or survival, but twisted into something inhuman… Ah!”

Shia suddenly gasped.

“What now?”

“No wonder. They were scrawny but still unnaturally active and strong. They’re not just plugging food shortages. They’re deliberately mutating the peasants—suppressing their intelligence while boosting labor output.”

“And when the mutations become too obvious, they haul them off, kill them… and feed the remains right back to the others. Hah… efficiency at its finest.”

“Hold on. If they did that, the population wouldn’t stay this steady. What trick are they using?”

Her words jogged something in my mind. I quickly grabbed a stack of papers.

“This.”

“…What’s this?”

“A copy of the order forms. The barony’s been buying livestock aphrodisiacs in bulk.”

Here, aphrodisiacs weren’t just words on a label like Earth’s. Magical processing made them real. Feed it to beast or human, they went into heat.

“…Oh?”

“And this—records of birthrates in the Peasant District over the past decade.”

Shia’s eyes widened as she compared them.

“The first order year matches the sudden spike in births. Then that means… they mixed the aphrodisiacs into the monster meat? To force higher birthrates?”

“Looks like it. Crank up the ‘production line’ to replace the losses.”

“Worse, the parents’ mana addiction passes to the child in the womb.”

“That means lower intelligence but faster physical growth. By seven or eight years old, they’d already have bodies ready for hard labor.”

“This… this is literally livestock breeding. Years of systematic research to maximize efficiency.”

“The Baron bragged about it too. Said the Peasant District ran on a flawless system perfected through trial and error. That bastard, seriously…”

We kept cross-checking, updating each other with what we’d dug up. The more data we piled up, the clearer the plan became.

At last, Shia pressed a hand to her forehead and gave a bitter laugh.

“…Honestly, I’m starting to think this guy should’ve been the Demon King, not me.”