chapter 229

Chapter 229

“We have found the place that seems most likely.”

The crow delivered the welcome news.

“There is nothing in the forest that could call you, and in that fake world above, no living creature can survive any longer. We examined every corner of this narrowed land... and as a result, we concluded that only your grave could be possible.”

“My grave?”

“The place called the evil god’s grave. I understand it is where you once stayed.”

“Ah...”

Gio felt rather taken aback.

“Why on earth would it be there?”

At most, he had expected it to be hiding in the black forest he hadn’t fully looked through, or in the fake world above. No matter where it stayed, it would surely be far more comfortable and safe than the “home” where Argio had stayed.

“Are you certain it will be there?”

“If it is not there, we judged it would be impossible to draw you out.”

“I understand.”

Then there’s a good chance it isn’t staying there of its own will.

“Thank you for the kind answer, Balf.”

“...It is an honor.”

“Could you not go there yourself?”

Balf answered cautiously.

“It was not a space that small creatures like us could dare enter. If you wish, I can attempt it, but that would be to make the impossible possible, and though it may displease you, for me the safety of the crows must come first.”

“So you ran away?”

Wise.

‘If it won’t work, you run.’

As always, Argio smiled lightly.

“You did well.”

“...I apologize for bringing you a result that is not entirely satisfactory.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll eat you. There’s no need to be so afraid. You brought a good result, so I will give you a gift as well. What do you desire?”

“May I, relying on your mercy, dare ask you a question?”

“As much as you like, my friend.”

“...”

The crow, silent as if gathering its thoughts, soon opened its beak.

“Do you like this world?”

“That’s a peculiar question.”

Gio rubbed his chin.

“It is my homeland—how could I not like it? I love this place; I have for a very long time, and it will be the same even if eternal ages pass. Is that a sufficient answer?”

“Then will you once again become this world’s god?”

“Our beast friends truly have no fear.”

Even while seeing him as an “evil god,” they readily entrusted their fate to him. The wolves could do that because once they believed, they believed forever, and even if the foxes were simply flattening themselves because they had been driven to the edge—

The crows’ choice was unexpected.

“Why did you make that choice?”

“It is the same answer as the wolves’ chieftain, Gargal.”

“You want a future? You know how I might handle that future.”

“...You...”

The crow, trailing off, confessed its view.

“You have shown a side vastly different from the rage in history.”

“It could be an act.”

“All life acts, in order to live.”

For the crow, whether the mercy and affection he had shown so far were sincere or false was not all that important. What mattered to it was whether that embrace was fiction or reality.

And the crows concluded that the evil god’s mercy and affection were real. He was already far too different from the rage in history. In the very fact that he could imitate such a thing, they saw hope.

“I remember the longest history among the beasts left in the black forest. I also know the most about the ‘Erased Rage.’ In history, you were an ominous evil spirit crazed with hatred, a monster with hundreds of arms, and a calamity that devoured the world with tens of thousands of enormous mouths.”

But the evil god they saw with their own eyes was entirely different.

“You are not an evil spirit, but life. I cannot even see those hundreds of arms made of condensed hatred, and with a mouth as small as a human’s, you may show cruel interest, but you do not brutally tear someone apart alive and devour them.”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but you would taste bad. You’re just packed with fur and terribly scrawny—what are you talking about?”

“Even the fact that you would make such a joke is different from the records of history. I do not know if it is a shred of mercy toward a small creature, but you wish for me to regard you with familiarity, don’t you?”

“...”

Gio thought to himself.

‘...Our beast friends are fairly good at taking jabs at me, too...’

This feeling was like looking at Juhyeon and Yoo Seongun, who laughed it off as if he were saying something absurd. It was welcoming, yet strange.

‘Is it not that those two are becoming like this, but that I was shaping them into that form?’

Separate from Gio’s unstrained thoughts, the crow continued.

“You have shown that you are a being capable of mercy and affection, and that it is real, so we all dared say, in one voice, that we were satisfied with that. We have heard and seen, with our own eyes, that it can be possible.”

It was enough that he was not merely an evil god of endless death and pain and rage. That alone could be called a far more hopeful future than what lay before them right now.

“So please, rule us. Return to this barren and grotesquely twisted land of rebellion. Though the reason you visited your homeland was because of one who spoke a name I cannot even remember... now we beg for your mercy.”

“You are truly brave. And clever.”

He wanted to, because they were cute, stroke that fluffy fur. He was far larger and more richly feathered than the crows of Earth.

‘But I shouldn’t. Endure it—the other party is a 114-year-old chieftain.’

Perhaps because his basic perception of them as ‘my children’ was strong, Argio was brimming with the desire to dote on them regardless of age or position. With miracle-like patience, he preserved both sides’ dignity.

“...To wish that the evil god whom the dimension rejected and sealed would now become the main god. This is quite an interesting story. My love for my homeland is profound, so you need not fear so much.”

“Then will you become our god?”

“I already have. You were born from the death of ‘me.’”

“...”

The crow chieftain Balf blinked.

“...Were we born not from your footsteps, but from your death?”

“Yes.”

“So you truly were human.”

“I was.”

“The sin... is great.”

Balf was truly wise and clever. With only one short sentence from Gio, he seemed to realize what the humans had done. Then he bowed his head.

“I see a father.”

“Yes, my son.”

How could he be so admirable?

“You may think of me as anything you like. If you want a friend, I will appear so; if you want a parent, I will be so as well; and if you want a god who will newly shape the world, I will appear so too.”

That was because Gio was very great. Thanks to his versatility—enough for Juhyeon to praise and Yoo Seongun to clap—Gio, who could do everything from one to ten all by himself, often took on different images depending on who looked at him.

So you will be the same.

“See me as you wish.”

“I will do so.”

The crow saw the greed packed behind the interest of the evil god before its eyes. What a covetous being he was. And how varied. The crow chieftain Balf did not doubt the evil god’s omnipotence.

“What should I call you?”

“I am Gio.”

“...‘Gio’?”

The crow tilted its head.

“You call yourself a beast.”

“You know that? I have no name.”

The name he had been born holding, he had discarded, and afterward no one ever gave Argio a “name.” All his life he lived as a cruel beast, and Gio was quite satisfied with that.

“So what you call me will become my name.”

This was the height of convenience. A specialness that existed nowhere else in this world gave Gio quite a lot of pleasure. He loved his own variety—the fact that he could become anything.

“Isn’t it convenient?”

“How can a living being have no name?”

“No, it means that the things of all creation can become my name.”

“Is that so. That is in the same context as what you said earlier.”

“You truly are a very clever crow.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“That is fine as well.”

Gio let his imagination spread.

“Yes, if it becomes like this...”

“...”

“...Good.”

And then he laughed.

“I like it.”

Now he had a sense of what he should do.

No—truthfully, he had laid plans for this quite a long time ago. It only took a little longer because his homeland had changed unexpectedly, and he had to adapt and apply new variables.

“Is it fine if I overturn this world however I please?”

“I believe it will become better than it is now.”

“You do not believe it—you know it. And I approve of that reason of yours.”

“May I ask what you intend to do?”

“I will do what I am best at.”

It was simple.

“I will draw, and I will receive rage.”

Gio planned to turn this place into a dungeon, and become its Demon King.

“Do you happen to like amusement parks?”

* * *

“Meow.”

When they returned to Argio’s “home,” Dana was sitting at the entrance.

“Meow.”

“Yes, you worked hard.”

At his daughter’s coaxing, he held her cheek and gently, gently stroked her.

“How many lost children did you meet?”

“Mmmmmmng...”

“There certainly were many. Is it because the world has ended?”

What to do with those lost children would now be Gio’s share as well. Quite a lot of the creatures left in this narrow, barren land had agreed with him, so Gio would naturally have to answer that expectation.

‘Before that, I should see the face of the one who called me.’

Even while standing on this land, the voice of the one who had first called Gio no longer reached him. As Juhyeon said, he did wonder if it had died in the meantime, but—well, someone who knew the name “Argio” did not seem like someone who would die so easily.

What that meant, he would have to see for himself.

“Dana, go back home. There will be far more lost children in here than you think. There will also be many you won’t like, so there’s no need to tire yourself unnecessarily.”

“Mngmangmang...”

“Alright. When you get back, let’s have a delicious meal.”

When Gio grasped the hem of the black cloak and opened the shadow, Dana slipped right inside. She would probably go back to her father like this, act cute to her heart’s content, and when Gio set the table, enjoy a pleasant meal.

‘So cute.’

If it was true that cuteness and size were proportional, Dana, who had grown as large as a wolf on Earth, had a joy to holding in one’s arms. When he buried himself into her fluffy fur—made soft and plush by the Sun God teddy bear managing it—the bliss was beyond words.

Feeling proud of his daughter’s fur, Gio called Honey.

“Honey, there will be something I need you for.”

“Grrrrk.”

As if it were only natural, Honey popped out of the hood and sat on Gio’s shoulder again. Newly moved by that imposing figure, Gio stepped into the “home.”

“...It’s truly been a long time. You wouldn’t have received any maintenance, yet it’s still here even after the world ended—so much so that it’s amazing. I don’t think I ever did any particular maintenance...”

This place, now called the evil god’s grave, had become the most dangerous place in this dimension with every kind of curse, poison, and trap left behind, yet even so, Gio felt himself filling with longing.

Because it was steeped in memories.

“Good.”

He was happy.

‘When I was mad with rage, even a home didn’t feel like a home.’

A wicked divinity of the century, forged from countless saints’ pain on top of the people’s rage and screams—that was the “Argio” the people of the world knew.

It sometimes took a human form, but more often it had the form of a monster or demon. And like that ominous shape, all that remained in it was rage and hatred—there was nothing one could call reason.

So it was only natural that Argio, who had regained all that was his and overcome what was not his, would take joy in this renewed longing.

“...”

The “home” was silent.

“...?”

And it was far more of a mess than he remembered.

“What? Why is my home like this?”

“Kunggungkung...”

“What wicked bastard did this? Did crustal upheaval happen here too?”

Why had my sweet home transformed into a demon den?

(To be continued in the next part)