------------------
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
------------------
Chapter 41: I Made Friends First.
The actual landlord of this laboratory, Elneor Grants, the Blue Tower Master, continued to visit occasionally, always leaving in shock.
-...Ahhh, commanding high-ranking demons with a mere gesture... Even the greatest archmages in history surely couldn’t have done this...
Last time, she was astonished to see me subdue and manage a demon.
This time, she was horrified that I was outright commanding them.
Honestly, I had only planned to summon demons to kill them — I hadn't intended to actually use them like servants.
[The Goddess tilts her head, wondering whether you are a Hero or the leader of demons.]
Seriously.
Though things escalated a little, my reason for securing a secret laboratory was actually very simple and clear.
After all the effort my friends and I put into running dungeons and finally crafting potions, everything was nearly ruined by those damned black mages and a senile old woman.
Both were problems, sure, but since I couldn’t purge all the senile elders of this world, I decided to at least deal with the other scum.
Of course, even then, I couldn't just destroy everything indiscriminately — some selection was necessary.
Unlike before, where killing anything in sight was enough, here, apparently, there were also “good” black mages.
'Not that I believe that for a second.'
Anyway, even if random shooting wasn’t an option, it seemed reasonable to primarily target those who were drawn in like moths to honey.
I mean, those who summon demons are usually genuinely insane, right?
Or criminals who secretly commit atrocities to prepare their offerings.
If they're that rotten, they're more fiends than humans, and there was no need to consider their rights.
Might as well build a factory to contribute to the world by putting those bastards to use.
Thus was born my secret laboratory, which was basically a prison.
[Screeeeech!!!]
This applied not only to black mages but also to demons and demonkin.
Demons who wanted to be summoned into the real world were inevitably going to cause trouble.
So while I was at it, I decided to kidnap and subjugate them in advance.
I had already met far too many demons to believe there might be some "good" ones.
Could there be good demons?
I didn't believe it.
As a virtuous Hero, my experience told me that the only good demon was a dead demon.
Therefore, as demons crossed over from hell, I either turned them into mana sources or slaughtered them if they were unusable.
While slicing them down, I suddenly recalled — when I first became a Hero, I had struggled a lot against demonkin.
Demonkin were already stronger than most high-level mages, and demons with noble titles were even more monstrous.
'Ooh?'
After crushing noble-class demons and eliminating a few irredeemable black mages, some of the restrictions on my powers started lifting.
My abilities, once stuck at about 10% of my prime, were now around 20%.
Thanks to the powers granted of the Hero by the Goddess — the Authority of Demon Eradication and the Authority of Growth — and because, apparently, this world deemed that demon hunters needed to be this strong.
'Not bad. Smash the bad guys and regain my strength? Win-win.'
If I kept maintaining this secret lab for a while longer, I figured I could recover up to about 30% of my full strength.
Not much more, though.
Capturing only weakened enemies had its limits, and demons and black mages do have some intelligence.
Surely, if they noticed that those who entered weren't returning, they'd grow cautious.
That was fine by me.
The more careful they became, the fewer evil acts they'd attempt.
Maintaining this secret lab-prison until that point was a crucial goal.
[Hey, are you gathering mana properly!? Didn't you hear the master command you to summon our kin!?]
A sort of "drill sergeant" appeared, making everything much easier.
A demon of count rank, Albania of the Illusions.
She wasn’t just sly — she was the strongest being here.
'If she were in her true, unweakened form, she'd be far stronger than any archmage.'
In hell, she held the rank of Count and governed the concept of "Illusion."
Unlike demonkin, who merely carried demon blood, demons each had their own fated, specialized magic.
[O great master—! The summoning preparations are complete! Shall we commence immediately?]
I hadn’t interrogated her in detail yet, but surely this hellish Count, Albania of the Illusions, possessed some deadly ace up her sleeve.
A hidden move, so to speak.
Even I, a Hero, might fall victim if I let my guard down.
Thus, I had to use her — but never trust her fully, watching her carefully at all times.
[Huff, huff, we caught another noble demon! If you keep trusting me—! I'll capture all our hellish brethren according to your wishes!]
I should have been wary, but...
[Master! After interrogating the demons, we learned some new intel! There's going to be a black mage gathering and summoning ritual this month...!]
This guy was unbelievably, almost suspiciously, competent and loyal.
[O great master! This fool hid an elixir in his clothes, so I immediately confiscated it! How dare he not offer it to you directly...!]
What was this?
She was strangely diligent.
While I was basically on autopilot, passively watching her, a jet-black gem landed in my hand.
A fragment of the Black Sun.
A jewel with a luxurious, ominous black glow.
Even just as an ornament, it looked valuable — but if used correctly, it was said to be a precious elixir even in hell.
If steeped in mana water and consumed, it would supposedly have several times the effect of the greatest potions known to mankind — or so my "drill sergeant" Albania explained.
I hadn’t seen it before and wasn’t sure, but seeing a demon crying tears of blood over it certainly suggested it was precious.
'Hmm. Not bad at all.'
I felt pretty good, as if I had somehow acquired a pet that automatically collected loot for me.
Of course, feeling good and trusting someone were two separate matters, so I kept a close eye on things.
I watched for a while, suspecting there might be some hidden agenda, but she even went ahead and crushed rebellions without me having to say a word.
[Albania! How could you, a fellow demon, betray your own kind!]
[Do you still call yourself a noble of Hell?!]
[You wretched woman—so evil even the Demon Lords would recoil!]
------------------
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
------------------
[Silence! Because of you fools, our great master—! What will you do if he grows wrathful?!]
If all this were just an act, I was willing to be completely fooled.
The way the other demons glared at Albania was filled with pure hatred.
At this point, she wasn’t just a lackey — she had practically defected from her race altogether.
Should I say she was admirable?
I was still suspicious, though.
I even gave her a chance to run away secretly, but she didn’t even show the slightest sign of hesitation.
‘If she tried to escape, I was going to kill her immediately.’
Seriously, if she was this diligent and meticulous, well, fine.
She deserved some respect.
“I am deeply moved, Albania. I appoint you the manager of this lab.”
[Oh, great master!]
The lackey, Albania, bowed deeply to me with an expression of overwhelming gratitude.
A dramatic negotiation had taken place: she would work even more diligently in exchange for her life.
Having created the perfect manager-lackey, I felt a little more at ease.
It seemed like I could finally put the lab on full auto-mode.
Of course, I didn’t just trust Albania—I secretly placed several magical restrictions on her.
‘If she betrays me, her heart will explode. If she leaves the designated area, her soul will be extinguished.’
I didn’t particularly want to see her die horribly while stuck halfway through a portal to Hell, so…
I sincerely hoped she wouldn’t betray me.
Honestly, it would just be a hassle to manage everything or kill everyone myself again.
[The goddess shakes her head, doubting your sincerity.]
Well, anyway, after several long days of managing the secret lab, I was finally free and returned to focusing on my studies.
Lately, I had been bothered by black mages here and there, but at the end of the day, my true duty was to be a student.
Going to school and studying was, in a sense, the most natural thing in the world.
Especially since it was now mid-April.
That time had arrived.
The dreaded midterm season.
* * *
“Okay, I know you all think practical skills are the most important. I thought the same when I was a student here too. Of course, for a hunter, real-world ability is crucial.”
Despite it being midterm season, Professor Shin Arin maintained her usual nonchalant, almost playful demeanor as she shrugged.
“But! Remember that written exams also make up a significant part of your grade. Not quite half, but still a solid 30%.”
For reference, her course, "Combat Theory and Practice," graded students with 60% based on practical performance, 30% on written exams, and 10% on class participation.
“So! If someone still manages to screw up after I pointed out today’s key points—I'll make sure to remember her face.”
She made serious eye contact with the class, causing the students to laugh and nod in acknowledgment.
The only male student, Shin Yuseong, reviewed his lecture notes carefully once again.
It was no wonder the professors liked him so much—he paid full attention and took notes diligently.
That kind of wholehearted effort was part of his charm.
Still…
‘Damn it.’
Sephine Alavad.
A teammate of Yuseong’s both in class and in their weekend dungeon party, she had been struggling with a troubling thought lately.
Skipping a dungeon raid recently because of an emergency still weighed on her mind—but more than that, something far more painful kept bothering her.
“Yuseong, did you finish your notes…?”
“Hmm, almost.”
“Then, shall we go eat?”
“Where to?”
“How about the staff cafeteria? They’re serving pork cutlet today.”
“Sounds good.”
Once known for attending classes with a loner vibe, Shin Yuseong was now accompanied by a certain female student.
An unexpected and surprising figure.
The genius of the Blue Tower, nicknamed the Ice Flower, Seol Yeonhwa.
Even now, she was shyly trailing behind him as they went off to eat together—an absolutely sickening sight for Sephine.
“…I was friends with him first.”
Sephine Alavad trembled with teary eyes.
They’re not dating yet, right?
Surely not?
She knew she looked pitiful, being so sad without even asking him directly, but she couldn’t help it—her mind was a mess.
At that moment:
“His birthday is coming up.”
“What?”
“You didn’t know? Yuseong’s birthday is next week.”
Thanks to Maho, whose network was mysteriously wide, she stumbled upon a golden opportunity.
His birthday, huh?
That meant there would be a birthday party… and gifts.
“Oh.”
This was it.
* * *
Meanwhile, due to various reasons, black mages had almost gone extinct within Korea.
“So, you’ve discovered something important?”
At the headquarters of the Secret Mystic Order, Yeongnak First School,
Cheon Juyeon, the next grandmaster, received a report on a person she had been keeping a close watch on this year.
Naturally, the informant was a spy placed inside the academy,
a fellow student and teammate of Yuseong’s, named Emir.
Imir, bowing her head in loyalty to the future of the cult, spoke gravely:
“His birthday is coming soon.”
Cheon Juyeon nodded solemnly.
Yes, this was it.
Though the reasoning was different, coincidentally, someone else had reached the exact same conclusion.
------------------
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
------------------
