Damn Necromancer

Chapter 388: Galaxy (7)

“Shoot! Turn those bony bastards into scrap metal right now!”

The main base of the massive gang, Black Dog, which divided the slum into three.

The plasma lasers and rocket launchers spewed by hundreds of gang members brightly illuminated the night sky like broad daylight.

A concentrated barrage of firepower said to melt even high-strength alloy.

However…….

“……Kuhahaha! It's warm! Very lukewarm!”

Vulcan, who walked out piercing through the gunsmoke, smiled as if he had just finished a pleasant sauna.

There was no way such crude firearms could pierce the physical body of a Demon Realm Grand Lord.

“Such toys don't work on me, you tin can bastards!”

Peoeoeoeong―!

With a single swing of Vulcan's whip, the fortress of Black Dog melted down whole.

In the sky, Cedric was shooting down their hovercrafts like swatting flies with his blood-red spear aura.

Behind that overwhelming massacre.

[Using skill, Land of Death (SSS)!]

Udeudeuk! Deolgeureok!

The corpses of the gang members that Vulcan and Cedric had finely sliced stood up in unison.

The skeletons shoved the chips held in their hands roughly into the mechanical skull slots like plugging in USBs.

“Uh? I, I'm moving…….”

It was the moment the personalities dwelling in the chips gained control of the physical bodies and were about to let out confused voices.

In an instant, Kim Minwoo's thought struck like a thunderbolt into the minds of the hundreds of tin can undead that had just woken up.

―I bestow upon you intact physical bodies and eternal resting places. I am the God of Death, so enter the sanctuary (subspace) and offer infinite prayers to me.

There was no need for lengthy words.

He directly slammed into their brains in just 1 second and made them understand the miraculous fact that they were saved and what they had to do cooped up in the subspace from now on.

“Ahhh……! Oh great God of Death!”

“I will believe! I will praise you forever until my soul wears out!”

The chip personalities, having finished grasping the situation in a single breath, wailed, overwhelmed with emotion.

The undead believers began to rush into the Belt of the Death Lord on Kim Minwoo's waist, which he had opened, diving in competitively.

[Corpse Supply] ―> [Land of Death] ―> [Chip Insertion] ―> [Thought Transmission] ―> [Direct to Subspace].

Every time Kim Minwoo flicked his finger, the summons sliced down the materials, and the undead with chips implanted walked right into the subspace on their own.

It was a perfect believer infinite copying conveyor belt without even a single second of error or unnecessary conversation consumption.

Yoo Honbi, who was watching this bizarre and suffocatingly efficient process, pressed her forehead as if fed up.

“……You are truly, in a sense, a more terrible guy than the Outer Gods.”

At that pointed criticism, Kim Minwoo tilted his head as if he genuinely didn't understand.

“More terrible than the Outer Gods. Your words are a bit harsh. Just what exactly did I do?”

“Are those words truly coming out of your mouth even after committing this bizarre act?”

Despite Yoo Honbi's flabbergasted reaction, Kim Minwoo rather put on an expression of being wronged.

“No, just what part is terrible?”

It was a criticism completely incomprehensible to Kim Minwoo's way of thinking.

“Think about it. Those data scraps, what would have happened to them originally? They would have been sold cheaply and shoved into other people's head slots. Then they were destined to collide with the original body owner's personality and lose their ego, or go terribly crazy as a dual ego.”

“…….”

“But I gave them a physical body they can operate and control completely in their right minds without having to walk on eggshells around others. Furthermore, I gifted them move-in tickets to a comfortable and pleasant paradise for free.”

Kim Minwoo very confidently retorted while counting on his fingers one by one.

“The only thing I ask of them is one thing. To pray to me. Did I even force them to lie down and only pray 24 hours a day holding a whip? They are doing it on their own, banging their heads and praying out of inspiration.”

“…….”

“I am merely a very merciful and rational savior who provides an intact resting place for poor souls destined to go crazy and receives autonomous faith.”

Kim Minwoo's miraculous logic running at the extreme of shamelessness.

Yoo Honbi, having lost her grounds for rebuttal, swallowed a hollow breath and only moved her lips.

She realized that talking about morals to a guy like that cult leader was a luxury itself.

Paying no mind to Yoo Honbi's fed-up gaze, Kim Minwoo hummed a tune and slyly pushed his consciousness into the interior of the belt's subspace.

The interior of the Fortress of the Dead.

There, massive construction was already in full swing.

Ttaktak! Kwang! Kwang!

The Dragon Tooth Soldier Advanced Architects who had mastered dragon architecture were moving endlessly, floating three-dimensional blueprints in the empty air, expanding the infrastructure inside the fortress and manufacturing facilities.

Of course, the tin can undead that had come in right now didn't particularly need such grand facilities.

Since they were guys without taste or touch, they couldn't taste even if he built a top-tier restaurant, and they wouldn't know coziness even if he provided fluffy beds.

They would merely offer blind prayers while banging their heads on the bare floor, inspired by the single fact that they gained a body they could move as they pleased.

However, the gaze of the stagnant water Kim Minwoo was looking far further into the future.

‘Right now they play like that because they don't have senses, but if I scatter cocktails as performance bonuses later, the story changes.’

What happens to the very few outstanding believers who taste the Cocktail of the Dead as a reward and regain the senses from when they were alive?

Naturally, they will crave taste, touch, and all sorts of pleasures.

Delicious alcohol and meat, comfortable resting places, and even awesome entertainment.

Because the moment their lost desires explode, they will compete fiercely while offering faith.

‘It's too late to start building facilities at that point. I have to lay down the 5-star infrastructure in advance to be able to completely extract every drop when the desires of the VIP believers burst.’

That was why he was fully mobilizing the Dragon Tooth Soldiers to remodel the empty space of the fortress into a grand sanctuary of entertainment and pleasure in advance.

Thorough demand forecasting and proactive infrastructure investment.

This was exactly the huge big picture of the stagnant water Death Lord to perfectly run the infinite faith mining server room.

Kim Minwoo smiled satisfyingly and withdrew his consciousness from the subspace.

‘Good. I just have to leave the hardware to the Dragon Tooth Soldiers.’

What remained was the software, meaning the quantity of believers to fill the server room.

Kim Minwoo's gaze headed beyond the slum.

The night streets where bright red neon and acid rain were entangled.

“I'll have to move quickly-quickly.”

＊ ＊ ＊

A few days later.

A shabby pub in a corner of the slum.

Lower-class people who had come in avoiding the acid rain were buzzing while downing cheap synthetic alcohol.

“Hey, have you heard of the God of Death?”

“God? Did you shove a defective hallucination chip into your head? What god in this cyberpunk world where super-massive megacorps reign in the sky and money is life.”

In the cyberpunk worldview, faith was no different from a barbaric relic of an old era that had disappeared a very long time ago.

They might believe in a corporation that would upgrade their chrome, but there was no idiot who prayed to an unseen god.

However, the voice of the man who brought up the rumor was secretive yet full of certainty.

“No, listen to me. You know the Black Dog and Scrap Metal Faction bastards all died, right? It's the story of the new factory manager who took that spot.”

“Ah, that angel-like factory manager?”

“Yeah! They say if you believe in him as a god and just offer some prayers, he distributes three meals a day featuring a menu with real meat and real vegetables for free!”

“……Crazy, real food?”

The drunks buzzed in disbelief.

A lie.

But if that was true, they could offer unseen faith a hundred or a thousand times.

It would be an idiot who doesn't believe when such an amazing reward that solves hunger and guarantees safety returns in exchange for that petty belief.

From the bottom of the slum, rumors of false fanatics blinded by capitalistic rewards began to spread like a virus.

＊ ＊ ＊

The dirty slum teeming with the lower class, Under City.

The only decent steel fortress arrogantly looking down on that endless gutter.

The Director's office of the Under City Integrated Control Bureau, established under the pretext of maintaining order in the slum.

“……You're saying this month's tribute still hasn't come in?”

The Control Bureau Director, lighting a highest-grade synthetic cigar, scanned the hologram report with chilly eyes.

“Yes. Scrap Metal Faction, Black Dog, Rusty Blade. All three gangs that directly managed the lower levels of Under City and offered tributes to us have completely lost contact.”

“Lost contact?”

The Control Bureau Director frowned.

This Under City Control Bureau nominally wore the signboard of a decent government security agency, but in reality, it was no different from a massive PMC (Private Military Company) that was entirely subcontracted the authority to control the slum by the super-massive corporation, Megacorp.

Bottom-feeder jobs that Megacorp found tricky to handle directly, such as illegal unauthorized extraction of personality chips or the supply of forbidden biological test subjects.

The Control Bureau passed those dirty jobs down to the back-alley gangs as secondary subcontractors and fattened their bellies with the massive tributes and bribes they offered.

But useful hunting dogs suddenly shut their mouths simultaneously overnight and cut off contact?

‘Are they daring to cut the leash and crawl up? No, they aren't guys with that kind of guts. Then does that mean some crazy lunatics newly rolled into the bottom of this massive garbage dump and kicked our rice bowls?’

Whichever it was, it was a clear challenge to the authority of the Control Bureau, the ruler of Under City.

The Control Bureau Director nervously rubbed out his cigar in the ashtray and gestured with his chin.

“Send down the mobile strike force directly under the Control Bureau. Dig up entirely just what the hell is happening at the bottom of the slum.”

The Control Bureau Director's eyes shone chillingly like a snake.

“If there are any bastards interfering…… erase them without a trace under the legal pretext of maintaining public order.”

Kim Minwoo's perfect and quiet infinite faith mining business was finally beginning to poke the temper of the Control Bureau, the true predator and massive armed group of the slum, in earnest.

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