Chapter 4: How to Fix Nitrogen (3)
……Crack!
A red flash struck down.
It tore through a corner of the barren land.
A sense of awe filled the bloodshot eyes in the sky.
The Demons, who saw the scene through those eyes, erupted in fervor.
The Four Great Demon Generals, who witnessed it directly before them, were horrified.
“……!”
The Cold Monarch, Sirgi, felt a chilling dread grip her heart. The Archduke of Fog, Hartok, instinctively swallowed dryly. The Black Boulder Tyrant, Baal, became acutely aware of the uncontrollable tremor in his shoulders.
And they all shared the same thought.
It was a relief they hadn’t stepped forward.
They had narrowly avoided disaster.
‘That bastard Credos… he’s perfectly fine……!’
All eyes turned to Asurat. The Prince Who Drinks Blood, who had boldly stepped forward, had now turned pitch-black like a lump of charcoal. Was he dead? No, he wasn’t. Asurat’s body, kneeling on the ground, was faintly twitching.
“…….”
Perhaps death would’ve been better.
Cold sweat trickled down their spines.
Before the remaining Demon Generals could even fully process it, Demon Lord Credos—Kim Jangcheol—stood imposingly in front of Asurat.
“…….”
Kim Jangcheol’s heart was pounding wildly too.
Just one strike.
Seeing Asurat kneeling, shattered in an instant, made everything feel surreal. At the same time, he recalled the intimidating presence of Asurat in the game, who had mercilessly cut him down over and over.
‘Back in my first playthrough… when I first met this guy, I couldn’t even put up a fight.’
It had been difficult.
Not just regular difficult.
It made him question if the game was even meant to be cleared.
Fast movements with offbeat timing.
Fake-outs were standard, and the attack range was wide.
Even the post-attack delay was nearly broken.
How many times had he died just trying to beat this bastard? How many times had he tried again?
Died once.
Died three times.
Died ten times.
It wasn’t until his 128th attempt that he finally managed to defeat Asurat in that first playthrough.
And by the 19th playthrough?
He fought with no equipment at all.
Completely barehanded.
With his eyes closed.
Without getting hit even once, he could take Asurat down.
Somehow, without meaning to, he had become a complete pro.
“…So, do you still intend to challenge me?”
Tucking away those memories—
At the edge of them, he asked Asurat.
Asurat couldn’t even manage a proper reply.
“S-sor… sorry… I… am…”
……Twitch, twitch.
Clinging to his breath just before it slipped away—barely managing not to pass out—that was the best Asurat could do!
But Kim Jangcheol was not satisfied.
He couldn’t afford to be arrogant or let his guard down.
‘It was just good luck today.’
Asurat had conveniently charged in alone. Thanks to that, the other Demon Generals had stayed out of the fight. But what if they had all attacked together? If that had happened…
‘By now, I’d be nothing more than a mangled meatball.’
No matter how well he’d memorized their patterns from the game, that knowledge was only useful in one-on-one scenarios like a boss fight. If they attacked all at once, it would be a completely different story. He was certain he wouldn’t last even thirty seconds, let alone a minute.
‘Besides…’
He recalled what was truly terrifying about Asurat. In truth, the bastard’s strength didn’t lie in his flashy attacks, his complex feint patterns, or even his jaw-dropping damage output.
Sirgi had the flashiest onslaughts. Hartok had the most insidious mind-game patterns. When it came to earth-shattering single-hit damage, no one could outdo Baal.
So then, what was Asurat’s real strength?
It was this:
‘Regeneration.’
……Squirm, squirm…!
Kim Jangcheol’s gaze fixed on Asurat.
The tendons and veins across the bastard’s body pulsed like writhing tentacles. Along with that, the burn marks and shock damage etched across his body were visibly healing.
‘Which means…’
You couldn’t afford to relax after taking him down once.
Right now, he might be bowing his head and muttering apologies, but the moment you let your guard down, he’d drive a blade into your back. Even now—it was there. He could see it. Despite being on his knees, head bowed, Asurat’s eyes were secretly gleaming. A glint probing for an opening born from his opponent’s carelessness.
‘One more time.’
He had to make sure the bastard would never dare to challenge him again.
To crush him so thoroughly, he wouldn’t even dream of trying something like this again.
With that resolution, Kim Jangcheol raised his hand.
And flung it toward Asurat. The same hand with the torn skin. Blood still dripped from the wound on his hand, and he didn’t hesitate to hurl it.
……Crackle!
“Kihaaaaghhh…!”
Asurat’s entire body was once again engulfed in crimson lightning. But Kim Jangcheol didn’t stop the barrage. He threw it again, and again, and again.
‘Two… three… five…’
Slowly counting each one.
Between the numbers, memories suddenly slipped in.
The summer when he was six, with the sun shining bright.
His mom smiling, saying they should play hide and seek.
Telling him to count to ten—ten times—before opening his eyes.
Somehow, his mom had been holding his hand tightly, teary-eyed.
Had he counted carefully?
Afraid to get it wrong, he counted clearly and deliberately.
With joy at having finally finished counting—
Had he looked up with a wide smile?
And from that day on, had he never seen his mother again?
Was that why, even now, that game of hide and seek had never ended for him?
Crack!
“Eleven… huh?”
A memory surfaced briefly, unintentionally.
Buried in the lingering traces of that thought, Kim Jangcheol mechanically cast the eleventh lightning bolt, then paused. He wrinkled his nose slightly.
“…Ah? I went all the way to eleven?”
Well, it couldn’t be helped.
He had to make it a full ten.
Otherwise, it would leave a bad feeling.
Besides, he needed to keep casting lightning anyway to fix nitrogen.
“So for now, just nine more.”
Crackle!
“Gyaaaaahhhyaaaack!”
Thanks to that (?), Asurat’s clothes had by now completely burned away into ash, leaving him stark naked! A sight devoid of compassion, mercy, compromise, or insurance—causing the rest of the Four Great Demon Generals to tremble in horror!
It was around that time another message popped up in front of Kim Jangcheol.
Ding-dong!
[You have violently torn Asurat’s clothing and rendered him naked.]
[This exotic(?) experience grants you the benefit of unlocking a new system.]
[Inventory equipment removal function, UNLOCKED!]
“……”
Well, okay. Got it.
But right now, he was in the middle of something far more important. He had just struck with lightning twenty times with utmost care. He needed to finish this first.
It was the first step toward solving the food crisis—setting up nitrogen fixation.
Kim Jangcheol turned to the remaining Demon Generals, who were shaking.
“Sirgi.”
“…Yes?”
The Cold Monarch, Sirgi, flinched, still clutching the four blades that had emerged from her back. Kim Jangcheol, who had called her, pointed at Asurat.
“Bind this guy up tight and hang him up.”
“…!”
Sirgi’s face flushed red in an instant. A wave of immense humiliation swept over her. She thought, Tying up a naked man? This was nothing less than a cruel act meant to humiliate both her and Asurat simultaneously.
“But…”
“You don’t want to?”
“……”
Sirgi’s face twisted. Honestly, she didn’t want to. But she couldn’t refuse. If she did, she would end up just like Asurat.
“I… will obey the order.”
Sirgi nodded with a contorted expression on her face.
Seeing her reaction, Kim Jangcheol quietly let out a sigh of relief. One hidden worry had just been lifted from his shoulders.
'Whew, that was close. Honestly, the idea of touching this bastard Asurat to tie him up was kind of scary.'
Asurat was an incredibly cunning and resilient bastard. Even if he was now barely twitching in a near-dead state, no one knew when he might regain his strength and start plotting something again.
And if he had approached that kind of guy to tie him up, struggling right next to him?
The moment he let his guard down, he might’ve had his throat cut.
So he had left it to Sirgi. Thankfully, she had obeyed the order. That was a relief. Thanks to her, Asurat was now tightly bound and set up like a scarecrow on a stake.
…Thus, the living lightning rod(?) was complete!
Now it was time to kick nitrogen fixation into high gear.
Kim Jangcheol turned his gaze toward the Archduke of Fog.
"Hartok."
"Yes?"
"Spread fog over this entire area. Make it thick—thick enough for water to drip from it."
"…!"
The Archduke of Fog, Hartok, widened his eyes in shock. As the most tactically-minded among the Four Great Demon Generals, he immediately thought he understood Kim Jangcheol’s intent the moment he heard the order.
'No way… is he trying to moisten everything so the lightning hurts even more…?'
Of course, that was a misunderstanding.
Kim Jangcheol's actual reasoning was different.
'The lightning I keep striking down… the nitrogen that gets fixed into nitrite… for that to seep into the soil, moisture is essential.'
So he laid down a thick mist of foggy moisture.
That’s when it began.
"Bloody—!"
Crack!
He scattered droplets of blood.
He struck down lightning.
He fixed the targeting on Asurat, who had been forced into the role of lightning rod. Waited briefly while the bastard recovered from his near-death state. Then struck him again. Waited for recovery. Then struck again—spending fulfilling time fixing nitrogen into the soil.
Of course, his hand hurt like hell.
Whenever the bleeding started to stop, he had to tear it open again.
But he didn’t stop.
The success of the crops was on the line.
That’s how he’d ensure his own survival.
'Even if it hurts… I endure it. That much more nitrogen will seep into the soil. A bountiful harvest. Yes. May we reap a bountiful harvest! Trahahahahaha!'
Days passed.
Pain and pride came and went.
The soil gradually became rich with nitrogen.
And as it did, the faces of the Four Great Demon Generals grew more and more pale.
But Kim Jangcheol’s plan did not end there.
'…Even if I’ve scattered quite a bit of nitrogen, this is still far from enough.'
His gaze shifted to the surrounding soil. After days of dedicated effort, the nearby land had begun to hold some nitrogen and moisture. But this was only the beginning. There were still many mountains left to climb.
Among all that, the first priority was the improvement of soil structure.
'The problem with this soil isn’t just the lack of nutrients—its structure is the worst kind: single-grain.'
Soil’s physical structure is divided into single-grain and granular. Single-grain structure means the particles are loose and crumbly, yet end up clumping together without gaps.
'Exactly like dry, tightly packed flour.'
In that state, there are no gaps between soil particles. Water becomes sludgy and doesn't drain. Air doesn't circulate. Deeper layers lose their moisture retention. Crops can't extend their roots deep into the ground. It's the worst possible condition for plant growth.
That’s why—
'I need to turn it into a granular structure.'
As urgent as nitrogen fixation was, so too was the task of improving the soil. And to do that, the next step he had to take was…
"…You guys."
How many lightning strikes had it been by now? How many times had Asurat passed out and recovered?
By the time everyone had given up on counting—
Kim Jangcheol raised his head.
He slowly turned his gaze toward the now-pale Four Great Demon Generals.
"In the name of the Demon Lord, I command you—"
Hssss.
The Demon Generals tensed even further.
He issued his command toward them.
Utterly heavy.
Utterly grim.
"Bring me poop."
"……!"
"As much as you possibly can."
"……!"
The moment that incomprehensible command entered their auditory nerves, the shoulders of Sirgi, Hartok, and Baal stiffened. And in that instant, a massive misunderstanding—shared with 100% mental sync—flashed across the minds of all three.
'Poop? Did he just say… poop?'
'No way… just because Asurat tried to challenge him once…'
'Burning him, tying him, soaking him… and now he’s going to smear him with poop?'
Creak…
Their disbelieving gazes creaked toward Kim Jangcheol.
He simply smiled, as if wondering what the problem was.
'…Cruel. He’s unbelievably cruel!'
Somehow, the misunderstanding of the Four Great Demon Generals only grew deeper and more detailed with each passing moment.