Daddy is too Strong-Chapter 363

Many had made a name for themselves in the Deep Realm, but when speaking of those who stood at the very top, there was always one name that never failed to be mentioned: Baal, the so-called Demon King, the strongest among Solomon’s Seventy-Two Demons.

Lately, he had developed a new hobby. One could say it was his one and only joy in the harsh environment of the Deep Realm.

Ever since his audience with the King of Earth, Baal had spent his days in relatively peaceful exchange with the Transcendents, including Imfelheim. Thanks to that, he had the opportunity to be introduced to Earth's culture.

“This is harder than I thought,” he complained.

Tucked under his armpit was a book titled Gardening for Beginners. Using a watering can filled with clean water, he sprinkled the soil that had reportedly been brought from Earth.

Lush plants were growing in a large rectangular planter about ten meters long. The crops were none other than the world’s favorite beginner crop, tomatoes.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling because just watching the sprouts grow filled a corner of his chest with an aching warmth. If any of the seedlings looked weak or droopy, he would give them extra care. And when one of those delicate shoots finally stood upright, green and strong, he was moved to such an extent that he nearly shed a tear.

However, the peaceful moment shattered in an instant as dark clouds gathered above and the air turned murky. At the same time, Baal’s head throbbed sharply.

Something had awakened within him. It was Solomon, who had been slumbering deep in his soul. Though Solomon was not physically present, Baal instinctively dropped to one knee with a loud thud.

“I am honored to be in the presence of the great Solomon,” he muttered as crushing, all-consuming fear gripped his entire body.

Baal knew all too well that there was a vast difference in power between Solomon and himself—a difference so overwhelming that fear was instinctual. After all, he was nothing more than one of Solomon’s creations.

He’ll ask about the keys... He knew what was coming.

The Cosmos and Origin—Baal had been investigating the Uncharted Zones in search of those two keys, but so far he had found nothing. The anxiety churned within him.

However, the real issue was his garden. He wasn’t sure what to even say if Solomon asked about the tomatoes. If Solomon were still asleep, he might not have noticed the tomato garden. But now that he was awake, manifest, and watching, he would see everything.

Cold sweat dripped from Baal’s temple as he audibly swallowed. Yet Solomon’s first words were not about the keys or the tomato garden.

—Baal.

“Speak, O Solomon.”

—Convene the Demon Assembly.

That was completely outside Baal’s expectations. It meant summoning all seventy-two demons to one place.

The Demon Assembly had only ever been held twice. The first time was when Solomon bestowed his power on the chosen seventy-two demons at the altar, and the second was to prepare for the Great War.

War was not something fought alone, but as many against many. Thousands of years ago, during that war, each of the seventy-two demons had led their own legions into battle.

“O Solomon, does that mean...?”

—Until I have fully regained my strength, you shall act as my avatar. Preside over the Demon Assembly and prepare for war. Once I am complete, I will use your body as a vessel to return, and with the prepared keys, I shall go to Ouroboros.

Two monumental tasks now stood before Baal: uncovering the whereabouts of the Keys and preparing for war through the Demon Assembly. Neither was easy.

Right now, the King of Earth is stronger than Solomon, Baal thought. But if Solomon were to obtain both the Cosmos and the Origin and gain recognition from Ouroboros, even the King of Earth wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“I shall obey your command.”

With that, the darkness receded, and the corrupted air returned to normal. Baal felt the oppressive pressure lift. Solomon had once again fallen into slumber for recovery.

Baal looked ahead at the tomato garden he had been tending. Then, lifting his head, he saw the wasteland beyond the altar, where waves of demonic energy rolled across the blighted land. It stood in stark contrast to the rich Earth soil beneath the tomato plants.

He clenched his fist tightly and raised it toward the air, and a sharp crunch echoed from his grasp. Black smoke leaked through his fingers. After a brief moment, he opened his fist, and horrendous birds resembling crows burst forth in every direction. There were exactly sixty-five of them, the same number as Solomon’s demons still alive. These creatures served as messengers, delivering a simple message to each demon that the Demon Assembly had been called with mandatory attendance.

What should I do...? Baal pondered whether he should inform the King of Earth of this matter.

He hesitated. He had once asked the King of Earth to kill Solomon, if possible. In a way, that made them allies. But the reality was that he was still working for Solomon. Not just working but playing the most crucial role in his resurrection. Who was he supposed to side with? The conflict tormented him deeply.

What do I really want...? What do I want to do? Maybe... it wouldn’t be a bad idea to tell the King of Earth.

***

After finishing lunch at the employee cafeteria, the Fissure Management Division staff were relaxing in the break room next to the office, watching TV.

⌜Is the Core Going to Bring Earth to Its Demise?⌟

On-screen was a rebroadcast of a Core-focused debate special titled “90-Minute Debate.”

“That doomsday crap again. It pops up whenever folks get bored.” Cheol-Soo took a break from slurping his iced coffee through a straw and laughed dryly.

He nudged Hyuk-Soo beside him with his elbow and motioned with his chin toward the two people on TV who were having a heated argument. “Hyuk-Soo, you think we’re really doomed?”

“Personally, I don’t... really think so.”

“Exactly. With the heroes we’ve got, doomed my ass.”

By “heroes,” he of course meant Behemoth. Anyone who had seen Behemoth’s broadcasts as they blazed through the Core like an unstoppable force would nod along with Cheol-Soo a hundred times.

“Who are the strongest guys in the Core again? Baal and Imfelheim, right?” Cheol-Soo asked.

“Uh, probably... among those who are still... remaining in the Core...” Hyuk-Soo, knowing the truth, stammered a vague response.

“See? No need to freak out. You saw Hunter Lee Kang-Hyun’s sword skills, didn’t you? If he really wanted to, he’d smack the life out of them before they even had a chance to react. Or how about my flyswatter sword technique, eh?” Cheol-Soo said, starting to swing his hand through the air.

It was a reenactment of his legendary “Flyswatter Sword Art,” the one he used last summer in the office to slaughter dozens of mosquitoes.

A phone rang, disrupting Cheol-Soo’s mini-demonstration.

“Huh? Whose phone is that?” he asked, looking around.

“It’s mine.” Do-Jun picked up his smartphone from the table and answered the call. It was from the security office at his villa. “Hello, this is Lee Do-Jun speaking.”

—Ah! Hello, this is Lim Young-Sik from the security office. Sorry to bother you when you’re busy.

“No worries, sir. I was just on break. Is there anything I can help you with?”

—You have a guest who says he needs to see you right away. His name is...

There was about five seconds of silence.

—He’s a foreigner. Says his name is... Ba... Al...?

“Baal?”

—Yes. Would it be all right if I gave him your office address? I figured you might be busy with wor—ah, w-wait, just a moment!

Suddenly, faint shouting echoed through the receiver. It was unmistakably Yong-Yong’s voice.

—Hey! You son of a bitch, what the hell do you think you’re doing stepping foot on our holy home, you brainless dumb bast—

Then the call abruptly dropped, leaving Do-Jun frozen in confusion for a second.

“What was that? Something wrong?” Cheol-Soo asked Do-Jun.

“Someone came to see me, but I don’t think I need to go.”

“Really? Huh...” Cheol-Soo turned his attention back to the TV.

***

Yong-Yong had gone to Changshin Supermarket with Kyu-Kyu to buy snacks. But the moment he spotted Baal, he bolted straight toward him.

Young-Sik, who had been on the phone with Do-Jun, panicked and hung up, rushing to stop Yong-Yong. Fortunately, he managed to grab him before Baal’s skull got caved in.

“Grandpa! Let me go! That son of a bitch is a real fucking piece of...” Yong-Yong’s mouth spewed a barrage of profanity.

Thrashing in Young-Sik’s arms, he hurled his heavy coin purse straight at Baal, who took the blow squarely in the stomach with a soft thud and dropped to the ground.

Flustered, Baal stepped back, waving his hands. “W-wait! This is all a misunderstanding! I didn’t come here to fight—”

“Shut up! You think I’m dumb? I know what you did to Cecilia, that sweet little girl who loves my kimchi jjigae. You sick bastard!”

“T-that... there’s my side of the story too! Just calm down and listen!”

Cold sweat poured down Baal’s face, but he wasn’t wrong to panic; the Overload’s strength rivaled that of Solomon. If the Overload unleashed his fury, he would be utterly annihilated, without a trace.

“Yong-Yong! If you hit people, you’ll go to jail!” Young-Sik pleaded.

“Let me go! Jail or not, that bastard’s gonna—"

“If you go to jail, you won’t be able to buy snacks from the store!”

That worked. Yong-Yong immediately stopped struggling. Only then did Young-Sik carefully lower him to the ground.

“Thanks, Grandpa.”

“Do you know this person?” Young-Sik asked, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead with a sigh of relief.

“Yes. I may have gotten a little worked up. I’ll talk to him calmly now,” Yong-Yong promised.

“Hmm. Then, what should I tell Mr. Lee Do-Jun?”

“Tell him Yong-Yong’s going to take care of it.”

Take care... of it... he says... Though it left a bad feeling in his gut, Young-Sik decided to leave for now. He had only rushed over in the middle of taking out the trash anyway.

Once Young-Sik was out of sight, Yong-Yong looked up at the sky, exhaled, and gave his neck a quick crack-crack.

“So?” he said.

“So, what...?” Baal asked, confused as to what the Overlord wanted him to say.

“What’s your real reason for coming to Earth?”

Baal swallowed hard and replied, “I came... to deliver a message to the King of Earth.”

“What kind of message? Is it important?”

“It is. Very. There are two things.”

“They better be ‘very’ important. If it’s some random useless, demon crap, I’m gonna beat the living shit out of you.”

Baal faltered, wondering whether the “Demon Assembly” was really that important. He decided it was. No matter how he thought about it, it was critical for the King of Earth to know. Solomon preparing for war, recovering his power, and seeking the key to receive Ouroboros’ blessing and shared strength—all of it was important.

“First... the Demon Assembly is about to convene. All seventy-two demons of Solomon will gather to discuss preparations for the Great War,” Baal reported.

“Hm... that’s kinda borderline important, I guess.” Yong-Yong rolled his eyes upward and said to Kyu-Kyu, who was sitting on his head, “But it doesn’t sound crazy important, does it, Kyu-Kyu?”

Kyuu? Kyu-Kyu tilted his head, confused.

Baal clamped his mouth shut. What is happening...?

He decided to continue.

“Anyway, that’s the first one. But the second one is even bigger. But before that... what is that thing on your head?” Baal asked, pointing at the baby snake on Yong-Yong’s head.

“It’s my master’s Status Window Snake. He goes by Kyu-Kyu. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“A Status Window Snake? Really? You even gave it a name?”

It looked nothing like an ordinary one.

“Yeah, its original name was Oro, Auro... Ourobo... Ouroboros, or whatever, but apparently he likes Kyu-Kyu better, so that’s what we call it. Not that it matters.”

Baal’s eyes went wide, so wide they seemed they might pop out of his skull.

“Did you say... Ouroboros...?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the Status Window Snake of the King of Earth...?”

“Ugh, how many times do I have to say it?! You’re stalling on purpose, aren’t you?!” Yong-Yong cracked his neck side to side again. “So? What’s this huge piece of news?”

There was no response.

“Hurry up.”

Only silence.