Seeing the village’s security system was working as intended, the Demon Lord finally smirked. “Not bad. Those two guards are impressive on their own, but Ren really brings it together.”
Although Ren was as permissive as a Gen Z parent when it came to the Demon Lord, with others she was the stereotype of a class president. She didn’t tolerate any disturbances of the peace. A squadron of enforcers who cleared her extensive interview process patrolled the village to maintain order by any means necessary.
Tron stared at Ren like she was an extraterrestrial organism. “Cold and scary. But kind.”
“That’s one way to put it...” the Demon Lord said, sympathizing with Tron’s paradoxical assessment. Ren seemed to him like a mixture of biting cold and sunlit cherry blossoms. “We’ve got a big crowd today... Too big.”
“Tahara said big audience for angel reveal,” Tron said.
“Angel... Ridiculous,” the Demon Lord spat.
In fact, the booming economy and marvelous facilities weren’t the only things drawing visitors to Rabbi. Many had come chasing the rumor that the Grand Angel was going to be summoned.
“Demon Lord summon angel?” Tron asked. “Friends?”
“Of course not! Is there anything more sleazy than an angel?!” the Demon Lord—the sleaziest of them all—shouted.
“Demon Lord friends with furry Anima. Demon Lord furry?”
“Don’t phrase it like that,” the Demon Lord said, casting his gaze downward again.
Many of the village’s visitors headed straight for the beach. Rumors must have already spread about the pristine white sand and endless turquoise sea. Beachgoers ran up and down the sandy shore or played in the water.
“Not to mention some are already swimming...” the Demon Lord said.
“I want cute bikini. Please, daddy?”
“Don’t ever call me that!”
In parts of the sea open to the public, some nobles already showed off their new swimwear and refined form in the water. Each morning, nobles lined up at Bingo’s store to order swimwear with extravagant adornments. Bingo had jumped with joy at first...until the orders didn’t stop. Even other small traders that handled fabric, thread, and materials weren’t overjoyed for long as every scrap of their inventory melted away. If they tried to fulfill Bingo’s every order, they would run out of stock for their long-standing clients, passing the blame to him. The only solution in the end was to increase production from the ground up.
Every Area the Demon Lord carelessly whipped out had a profound impact on the lives of people in this world, even society at large. As they spoke, laborers swarmed Ren with requests to move into the ancient neighborhood that had materialized out of nowhere.
“Perhaps a public beach would do some good in this sweltering country,” the Demon Lord mused.
“I swim too! Call furry friends!”
“I’m not calling any furries!” the Demon Lord barked.
While Tron and the Demon Lord wasted time bickering, nobles who had their fill of the beach wasted no time, exploring the Business District where they would indulge in gourmet meals and drain expensive wine. Each night, the inns were packed with nobles who would pay any price to stay longer in Rabbi, putting the construction of more large-scale lodging high on Tahara’s priority list.
Staring at the sea, the Demon Lord lit a cigarette with frustration. “No catches yet...?!” He watched rows and rows of boats bob in the waves without any indication that there was a hit. Mostly to eat seafood with his drinks, the Demon Lord had obsessively ordered fishermen to try their luck—all in vain.
“Strange sea,” Tron said sleepily. “Fishermen, nobles, Bunnies... No one fish a hit.”
“They probably need the Fishing skill. Dammit...! I should have designed it so anyone could fish in it!” the Demon Lord raged.
Back in the game, Fishing was a legitimate skill that required SP to obtain. Players without it never so much as saw a prompt to fish in their UI. Even the fishermen of the Island Legion were powerless against this particular sea. His designs had saved the Demon Lord’s hide time and time again, but this one had come back to bite him.
“Buy fish from other countries,” Tron suggested.
“No good. All they’ve got are blocks of salt and vinegar,” the Demon Lord said. On this continent, most fish were pickled or cured with salt. Without modern technology to preserve them, by the time they reached Holylight those fish tasted like little more than straight vinegar or salt. For someone like the Demon Lord, who was accustomed to the fresh, flavorful food of the modern day, it was torture. “My dream of a perfect nightcap... It’s falling apart... Salted sea urchin, soy-sauce-soaked roe, octopus dipped in wasabi...” the Demon Lord sighed.
“Light bulb. Become Zero. Fish,” Tron said.
“You think that meathead has the Fishing skill?!” the Demon Lord snarled.
However, Zero did have the Sewing skill—an homage to the main character of a certain bosozoku comic book leading the sewing club. The skill was a powerful one that recovered the durability of all armor to its maximum. If Zero were to ever open a tailoring shop, there would be lines out the door.
A Communication from Tahara pinged in the Demon Lord’s sulking head. The advisor had avoided the Demon Lord over the past few days, sensing the irritable mood his boss was in. Now, he spoke so cheerfully that it was uncanny. “Sorry to interrupt, Chief. Things are gearing up, all thanks to you. Why don’t we do the grand reveal for the Grand Angel?”
Is he joking... Or is he serious? the Demon Lord wondered.
Ironically, Tahara was merely executing the plan he thought his boss had orchestrated. Now was the perfect time—the Demon Lord had drawn all eyes in Holylight to Rabbi through a series of miraculous public displays. With the addition of foreign dignitaries, like the minister of Euritheis and the Paladin, the stage was perfectly set. So many world-shaking events had coincided at this moment: the civil war and regime change of Holylight, the resurrection of the Fallen Angel, the blessing upon the Madam, the arrival of the dignitaries, the refugees’ arrival from the slums, the emergence of the ancient town, the opening of Rabbi to the sea through the disappearance of a mountain range, the appearance of the mines...
To Tahara, it felt as satisfying as watching a series of perfectly placed land mines going off all at once. Even he could hardly believe that the Demon Lord had pulled this off. Of course, he made sure to chat in a way that unintentionally chased him further into a corner. “How you brought every piece to the perfect board state... I knew you were a master gamemaker, but I didn’t think I’d see another perfect play so soon.”
Perfect game?! I need to invoke the mercy rule! At this point, the Demon Lord was so clueless as to the progress of these events that he could only pray for some kind of downfall to flip the board and reset the score. He decided to throw out the word “angel” to gauge Tahara’s reaction. “Summoning an angel can be quite impactful...”
Tahara guffawed. “Perfect closer, don’t you think?!”
The Demon Lord silently groaned. He had told Tahara that he’d summon his sister, but hadn’t mentioned anything about an angel. “But an angel would be—”
“Grand Angel, Chief. That’s twice now.”
Grand Angel, my ass! You’re bordering on incest! the Demon Lord wanted to shout, realizing that the line between genius and folly was a thin one. Manami was no angel—just an ordinary civilian without any powers. He had no one else to blame, though, as he was the one who’d designed Tahara this way.
Tahara continued, oblivious to the Demon Lord’s headache, overly excited by the prospect of seeing his little sister again. “If you ask me, Chief, a Grand Angel’s something like White who’s got a halo on her head, but my Manami’s...”
One word echoed in the Demon Lord’s head like a thunderclap—at last, he’d found an opening to get him through this mess. “You’re right. Let’s set the stage for Manami’s arrival,” the Demon Lord said with conviction.
“A-All right...?” Tahara replied with a moment of hesitation, but his excitement quickly won out as he moved on to discuss the date and procedure.
After the Communication ended, the Demon Lord returned inside with a confident smirk on his face.
“What, Demon Lord?” Tron asked.
He laughed maniacally. “If there is no angel, I can just build one! Create Item: Angel Wings.”
From the void, a set of typical costume angel wings came out—an accessory that contrasted Fallen Angel Wings back in the game, with a garbage Defense value of 2. Just like the Angel’s Ring he had given White, it was merely meant to be worn for fashion, which was a common thing for items in the game. By design, it emitted a pointless pulse of holy energy and even claimed that it allowed the user to fly...merely because Akira Ono had been listening to a musical that claimed everyone deserved a chance to fly.
“Demon Lord... Your soul is muddy,” Tron said.
“And why shouldn’t it be?! I’m the Fallen Angel, aren’t I?!”
“Clearer now... You’re owning it. Somehow, it’s impressive.”
The Demon Lord cackled again. “All right, let’s have that squirrel earn its keep!” The Demon Lord strode away with long steps, heading for the stage that was about to con the entire world.