[A Certain Place in Venisuela]
“Have you heard about the story Omelas’s Prosperity?” the man wearing clown makeup asked, eyes staring at the camera.
The red makeup made it seem as if the corners of his mouth were curled upwards, but his eyes were deadly serious. If anything, you could see the anger in his eyes.
“Once upon a time, long ago and far away, was a town named Omelas. Its inhabitants thought it was a paradise. Everyone was healthy and happy, living in delight. A bell chimed, resonating through the festive city and filling everyone’s heart with never-ending bliss. All children grew up receiving love and affection from everyone around them.”
“‘But where did Omelas’s peace and prosperity come from?’ you may ask,” Joker continued. “Well, under the city was a small room. That basement room had no windows, only one door, and was closed off with a heavy lock. It was barely lit, a small amount of light pouring through a little gap in the wall. Inside that room was a child, sitting alone on the floor. No one could tell if that child was a boy or a girl. They appeared to be around six years old, but they were actually ten years old. Lacking proper nourishment, the child had barely grown.”
“That child,” Joker carried on, “hadn’t been born in that small basement. They could remember the warmth of the sun and the loving voice of their mother. That’s why they kept calling out to the people outside the room. ‘Please! Let me out! I’ll be good! I promise I’ll be good!’ The citizens of Omelas never answered the cries of the child. In time, the child became unable to scream anymore. Their limbs were incredibly thin, and their belly was distended. All the child was given each day to survive was a meager half-full bowl of cornmeal and animal fat. They hadn’t been given clothes, and they shivered, all alone in the basement.”
“Why did they treat that child so poorly?” Joker asked. “That’s what you’re wondering, right? Well, the people of Omelas knew the child had to stay there. Some of them knew why. Some didn’t. But everyone was clear on one thing: for the town to remain prosperous and peaceful, the scenery beautiful, the people amicable and kind, the children healthy, the scholars wise, the workers skilled, the harvest bountiful, and even the weather pleasant, that single child had to bear the misfortune of the whole town.”
The clown halted his story briefly and lit a cigarette. He let out a puff of smoke before looking straight into the camera and continuing.
“If you were a citizen of Omelas, what would you do? ‘Making that poor kid bear all that misfortune is horrible! Let’s free them!’” Joker paused. “Well, it would be easy to make this kind of declaration, but letting that child out of the basement would mean breaking the peace of the city and bidding farewell to its prosperity. Many would become destitute and suffer from starvation. Jealousy and mistrust would plague the city, as people become unable to fulfill their desires. Naturally, you also would go through these hardships. Would you still free this child?”
“Our world is the city of Omelas. The diamonds worn by glamorous Hollywood actresses are mined by children in Africa. Silica, the main ingredient of silicon, is also mined by people paid a mere three hundred dollars a month. These people enter mines in spite of the risk of catching tuberculosis for such a ridiculous salary. And yet, the rest of the world refuses them better compensation. After all, the materials will also become more expensive if wages are increased, and many industries will suffer from the blow. If you’re able to watch this video, you are undoubtedly a citizen of Omelas.”
“Privileged people of advanced countries call me a terrorist. To protect their peace and prosperity, they need someone else to bear hardships. They think that allowing me to free that someone will destroy their way of life... And they’re right. In the eyes of the citizen of Omelas, I would naturally be a terrorist. Still, I would like you to ask yourself a question. Between the citizens of Omelas, who are ready to sacrifice a small child to preserve their own happiness, and me, the one trying to break this cycle, who’s truly evil?”
The camera was turned off, and the clown put out his cigarette. In fantasy stories, the Demon King would patiently wait for the hero to come to fight him. A real Demon King had no business waiting. He’d try to appeal to the hearts of the masses and have them doubt the hero.
Joker was biting into an apple when his underling walked in.
“Boss, the preparations have been made. We’re awaiting your orders.”
“Great, we’re finally ready. Time to deal with Brezil.”
The four dungeons located in Colombian had already fallen into his hands. The D-Rank dungeon had already been cleared, and progress had been made on the C-Rank dungeon. Soon, he’d have more Species Limit Breakers and dungeon Busters in his army. Once that happened, Joker would be able to bring forth many more monsters on the surface. If he threw a thousand Rank A monsters at them, the Brezilian army wouldn’t last long.
“Just to be safe, have the Colombian army remain on standby close to the Caribbean Sea. Once we’re done with Brezil, we’ll attack Panana. I wonder what Gamerica will do once we take control of the Panana Canal and seal it off,” Joker said before letting out a dark chuckle and leaving the room.
✦ ✦ ✦
[Venisuela — Capital City, Caracas — Executive Office of the President]
Nicolai Clyde, who had been acting as temporary president, had officially been appointed President of the Republic of Venisuela. His first job was to stabilize the country and start building relationships with countries in North Africa and the Middle East. The Slave Collar he wore sometimes forced him to take action regardless of his will. However, he wasn’t experiencing too much anguish at the moment.
Build a country where the inhabitants won’t have to go hungry, suffer from the cold, or be ruled by violence.
That was the order Clyde had been given, and it ended up aligning with his own wishes. He had made use of the dungeon item Jointly Sealed Covenant to get rid of all corrupt officials in one blow. Police forces were now working to the best of their abilities, and order was being restored. If he could manage to revive the economy, everything would be fine. He just needed foreign currency to make it happen.
“Mr. President, we have received an answer from the United Arabian Alliance. They have promised to invest if we stop magic stone production in every dungeon. They’re ready to invest one hundred billion dollars at the moment.”
That was good news. Middle Eastern countries relied heavily on their oil exports. If every country was able to undergo an energy transition and switched to using magic stones, the Middle East would revert back to a barren desert. He had expected that the oil tycoons wouldn’t hesitate to pay up in this situation, and he had been right on the mark. With that money, he should be able to kick-start the Venisuelan industry.
“We need to focus on electricity first. Ask the Republic of Woori to send us skilled engineers so we can reopen power plants as soon as possible. We also need working oil refineries.”
Although the Republic of Woori could boast about its technical expertise, its economy was currently in shambles. If Venisuela requested engineers be sent in exchange for Gamerican currency, the Republic of Woori wouldn’t be in a position to refuse. If Venisuela was able to seize Brezil, the biggest agricultural country in South Gamerica, the food shortage would also be dealt with in one fell swoop.
“How ironic. In the end, it’s not one of the many people preaching justice and freedom but a villain who calls himself the Demon King who saved our country...”
Adventurers could influence the economic situation of whole nations. This truth was sure to shock the world. From now on, a very specific type of human resource—adventurers—would become a country’s source of power. Clyde wondered if, on top of the current adventurer initiative system, he should try to incorporate adventurer training courses in the school system. He’d discuss that idea with his ministers at the next meeting.