Chapter 11: The Miracle Bloomed by the Wild Species (3)
What exactly was happiness?
No matter how much one thought about it, there was no answer.
No matter how much one agonized over it, it couldn’t be understood.
It had been like that for the past several days.
And perhaps, it would remain that way for quite a while—no, maybe for a very long time.
“……”
The level 9990 NPC, Aged Kimchi, lowered his gaze.
A pool of blood.
A vivid pool of blood spread thick across the floor. Of course it was. It had just been made. By his own hands.
“Hoo.”
How much farther would he have to walk to escape the Abandoned Land? How much longer would he have to wander before reaching a human village? Until then, how many more enemies would he have to destroy, turning them into pools of blood?
Still, he didn’t know.
There was only one thing he knew for sure.
That he had grown utterly sick of slaughter and struggle. That for someone like him—someone who had lost the hand of purpose—all of it had become meaningless.
“……”
In that moment, the blood on the floor slowly flowed toward him. Without realizing it, he took a step back. He was suddenly glad. Glad his shoes hadn’t been stained with blood. Glad that the footprints he would leave wouldn’t carry the scent of it.
‘I never want to...’
He didn’t want to return to a life of endless battle.
Probably nineteen times—it had been that many cycles of life.
Faint memories of his past lives surfaced.
He didn’t want to repeat what he had done back then.
“……”
So he would go.
To a place without meaningless struggle.
To a place where he could lead a peaceful life.
He didn’t know where that was just yet.
But someday—to a home where the rest of his life’s peace could settle.
“…Let’s go.”
In the dim cavern.
Likely the border heading out of the Abandoned Land. Perhaps a nest where true happiness could be found. Though right now, it was an unknown destination.
Aged Kimchi’s steps continued toward it.
♣
What exactly was happiness?
Looking ahead made it clear.
The messages pouring into his vision.
Seeing them brought the feeling into sharp focus.
And perhaps, from now on, this might happen from time to time—no, maybe even quite often.
“……”
Kim Jangcheol raised his eyes.
Message window.
A message window vividly filled his vision. Of course it did. It had just popped up. Triggered by the achievement he had accomplished.
Ding-dong!
[Some of your Demon Lord’s forces are experiencing an intensely flavorful sense of full-bellied happiness.]
[The happiness they are feeling is entirely a gift from you.]
[Your first Happy Point has been accumulated.]
[51 Happy Points have been accumulated.]
[Current Happy Points in your possession: 51]
‘Hoo-ah.’
So Happy Points were real, after all.
Truth be told, he had been uncertain all this time.
It probably started right after he rescued Baal at the coastal cliff of rock formations, when he first saw the Happy Point message. He had felt pleased, and yet, couldn’t fully bring himself to believe it. He had wanted to verify it. But there hadn’t been a way to do so.
‘After all, every single one of the guys living in this Abandoned Land had their happiness index completely shattered.’
Clutching their starving bellies was the default stance!
Pale, yellowed faces from lack of food were the standard look!
And not a trace of a smile to be found on any day!
There was simply no way any of them could feel happiness. In a situation like that, accumulating Happy Points was out of the question.
‘So to test it out—and to instill some confidence in potato farming—I made Chuño.’
And with this level of response, it was a smash hit.
Thanks to it, he had earned 51 Happy Points.
Enough points to purchase a portion of Demon Lord Credos’s stats.
‘Good. I’ll try using that later tonight, when I’m alone... but for now…’
Kim Jangcheol turned his attention to the reactions of the lower-ranking demons.
Each and every one of them was crying with emotion.
Naturally.
Because potatoes were delicious.
Because potatoes were a blessing.
Because potatoes were adorable.
Was he joking?
No, he was dead serious.
If someone were to visit Ronald González (male, 41, single), a Bolivian farmer from the highlands of the Central Andes, and suddenly jostled his cheeks in the middle of the night asking, “Bro, bro! What do you think about potatoes?”—they would absolutely get the same answer.
And these lower-ranking demons?
They’d go even further.
Why?
‘Because they’ve been starving and finally got to eat real human food again!’
To be fair, Chuño itself wasn’t an incredibly tasty dish. Technically speaking, it was just freeze-dried potatoes—essentially, dried potato snacks.
That’s why Chuño only truly shined when paired with various seasonings. Being a dried food, it absorbed seasonings like instant noodles soaking up broth, delivering flavor straight to the taste buds with a direct pass.
But now?
There were no ingredients available to make any seasonings.
So he had just doused it in salt.
And even that was more than enough.
“Ugh… sniff…!”
“…Huff, haub!”
“Smack smack smack!”
Even though their throats were likely parched, even though their mouths were surely bone dry, they were focusing intently to savor every last bit of flavor. Some of the more impatient ones who had already swallowed the Chuño were now licking their fingers clean, slurping up what remained.
Even though each one of them had only been given two pieces of Chuño—and even though each piece was no larger than something a cherry tomato might call a blood brother—they still reacted that way.
Honestly, it was a bit unexpected.
He had expected them to like it.
But he hadn’t expected them to be so moved, to the point of tears.
“……”
These lower-ranking demons—well, they were the ones stationed near the Demon Lord’s Castle, so they were considered high-level among the small fry. Back when he first played this game, each one of them had been a figure of terror.
But what was this feeling?
Why was he being flooded with such strange emotions?
Should he have made… a bit more Chuño?
“Tch.”
Kim Jangcheol quickly shook off the strange emotions that had suddenly come over him. Then, with a now-cool expression, he addressed everyone.
“Is it edible enough for you all?”
“Y-yes, Demon Lord, sir!”
“Thank you very much!”
Their replies came back, filled with genuine emotion. Which made him feel even weirder.
Kim Jangcheol deliberately lifted his chin and asked again.
“So, is there still anyone here who doubts the wild potato species?”
“……”
“No one?”
“None, sir!”
“Really? I can’t quite hear you.”
“Th-there’s absolutely none, sirrr!”
“For real?”
“Yes sirrr, absolutely!”
The lower-ranking demons shouted out with voices full of sincerity. They were truly experiencing a mix of surprise and wonder.
Because the Chuño was delicious?
That was true, too.
Among the lower-ranking demons gathered here, some had gone nearly a month without eating. Even for demons hardened by hunger, it had reached the point where they were truly at their limits.
And then, in the midst of that, they were given something edible—even if it was just dried potato. And it wasn’t just that—it was properly seasoned with salt!
They were happy.
In a place where they hadn’t expected anything.
In a moment they could have never imagined.
They had never dared hope they might put something decent into their mouths. They had never believed they might be able to fill their bellies with something that tasted even remotely like real food.
On top of that, their stomachs were pleasantly full.
The tiny pieces of Chuño, once ingested, soaked up moisture like any dried food and expanded rapidly inside their bellies.
A wave of fullness, swelling to the brim of their stomachs! The rare and unfamiliar sensation of satiation, given to those who had felt utterly worthless in this vast universe!
And that wasn’t all.
‘My mouth… doesn’t sting.’
He had eaten two pieces of Chuño, and yet his mouth was perfectly fine.
It was truly a strange thing.
Back when they couldn’t stand the hunger and dug up those wild potatoes to eat, the moment they bit into them, a numbing sensation had spread through their mouths. Even just forcing themselves to swallow one or two had ended with terrible stomach cramps.
But now? Nothing like that. They were fine.
That’s right.
Every last word of the Demon Lord’s bold claims had been true. All those seemingly pointless actions—drying, crushing, and wrecking the potatoes in bizarre ways—had been filled with meaning.
‘…Demon Lord, you’re the best!’
‘The Demon Lord really is a man of talent…’
‘Looking at him now, our Demon Lord is kind of… handsome?’
Fifty lower-ranking demons, blessed by the grace(?) of Chuño. A thin film of admiration now gently coated their eyes as they looked at Kim Jangcheol.
Kim Jangcheol didn’t miss that look in their eyes.
“Alright. I understand how you all feel. Potatoes—not so bad, huh?”
“THAT’S RIGHT, SIR!”
“Then what do you think you need to do from now on?”
“……?”
Kim Jangcheol gave them a meaningful, knowing smile.
“You all need to spread the word, right?”
“……!”
“From now on, go knock on your neighbors’ doors, the folks in front, in back, even the ones upstairs you argued with over noise—spread the word everywhere. Tell them there’s a way to eat wild potatoes without getting sick. That I’ve made it possible. So now they need to get out there, dig up those wild potatoes, and bring them to the Demon Lord’s Castle.”
“U-underst—”
“Voice.”
“UNDERSTOOD, SIRRRR—!”
“Good. Those who bring in good results will receive a special bonus ration of Chuño. That’s all. Dismissed.”
Kim Jangcheol made a casual hand gesture.
The lower-ranking demons scattered with excited faces.
It was then that Zephyros, who had been quietly observing by his side all along, finally spoke.
“...Judging by how fast they’re moving, it seems they’re eager to spread the news.”
“Seems that way.”
“Did you plan this all from the start?”
“Well, roughly.”
“Even the taste?”
…Crunch!
Zephyros asked the question while taking a determined bite of Chuño. His expression was tinged with a bit of confusion and surprise.
“To be honest, I didn’t expect this to taste the way it does.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. Back when General Baal was stomping on those soggy, mushy potatoes.”
“Sounds like you weren’t expecting much.”
“Well, General Baal’s feet aren’t exactly known for their fragrant scent.”
“Hey, that’s what we call hand-made flavor.”
“Wasn’t it… foot-made?”
“Anyway—”
Kim Jangcheol let out a sharp huff through his nose.
“Thanks to that, everyone probably trusts wild potatoes now. They'll spread the word. That’s enough.”
“Yes. Once the rumors spread, others will start digging up wild potatoes with a sense of anticipation.”
“And they’ll haul bags of them to the Demon Lord’s Castle.”
“Do you plan to turn those into Chuño and distribute them?”
“Some of them.”
“‘Some,’ you say…?”
“If I turn all of them into Chuño, what are we going to eat next year?”
“Ah, then…”
“You figured it out?”
“Yes. You're going to use part of them to make Chuño as emergency food, and plant the rest in the fields you’ve been preparing?”
“Exactly. That’s it.”
As expected, Zephyros was sharp—he really got it. Kim Jangcheol gave a satisfied smile and said,
“Plant them, grow them, and multiply them.”
“And then take some of those and turn them into Chuño again, and the rest…”
“Yeah. That’s what farming is, isn’t it?”
That was it.
And if that worked out?
No more starving.
That was Kim Jangcheol’s plan.
But then—
“You don’t have anything to say to me?”
“Pardon?”
“Something like, you were moved. Or touched. You know, like those other lower-ranking demons.”
He asked Zephyros.
The guy didn’t even twitch a brow. With his usual chilly expression, he pulled out a small notebook.
“…Year 320 of the Demon Lord Era, Month X, Day XX. Demon Lord Credos subtly asked whether I was moved or touched….”
“Eh?”
“…When I didn’t respond and continued recording the annals, he openly displayed disappointment and reacted with, ‘Eh?’...”
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“…You’ll see for yourself.”
“Are you seriously writing down everything I do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because documenting every action and word of the Demon Lord in the official chronicle is one of my primary duties.”
“Primary duty? Chronicle? You’re recording every little thing I say and do?”
“Yes. You didn’t know?”
“……”
He didn’t.
Not at all.
Kim Jangcheol was baffled.
“What is this, are you writing the Annals of the Joseon Dynasty or something?”
“What are the Annals of the Joseon Dynasty?”
“……”
“For reference, the chronicle I’m compiling is called The Official Record of the Demon Lord’s Reign.”
“Tch. That’s the most generic and boring title I’ve ever heard.”
“And its contents will be permanently archived in the Records Hall of the Abandoned Land. Open for anyone to view, of course.”
“……”
“…Demon Lord was clearly trying to maintain a cool and unfittingly handsome expression upon hearing that comment…”
“Don’t write stuff like that!”
“…he shrieked in protest…”
“……”
“…and clenched his eyes shut like he was seriously pissed…”
“……”
Kim Jangcheol looked up at the sky in silence, his heart sinking with the weight of quiet resignation.
Meanwhile, Zephyros smiled faintly to himself. And he thought, quietly. That earlier, when he had his first bite of Chuño—it had unexpectedly made him feel happy. And for that, he was grateful.
It all began on that day.
At the Demon Lord’s Castle, in Chavín de Huántar.
In this land where only hunger and despair had reigned, the demons who had, for the first time, caught a glimpse of hope, began voluntarily gathering up all the wild potatoes they could find.
And so, none of them knew.
That their gathering efforts were being secretly observed—by a scout ghost under the command of Sartul, the First Lord of the Demon Lord’s forces, who harbored treacherous ambitions.