God-Tier Enhancement: My Upgrades Never Fail-Chapter 253: Episode _A Born Swindler (3)

4.

It was a long while before Han Simin’s group could start moving again.

She remained silent.

“Stop pouting.”

“Tch.”

“Tch? Sounds like you still need more ideological training.”

“You’re terrible. How can you treat an upper-rank Celestial like this? Are you not afraid of God at all?”

“Nope. Not scared. The only thing I fear in this world is money.”

She was speechless.

Pouting, Aria grudgingly draped the robe over herself, covering only the bare minimum, as she walked along with the group.

After a long, half-day sermon, Aria had at least reached the point where she would listen to what Han Simin said.

“You’re seriously amazing, Simin. Isn’t this basically on the level of converting a head monk to Christianity?”

“It’s more than that. From Aria’s point of view, demons are practically a cult that rejects her god. It’s like convincing a devout Hindu that eating beef isn’t wrong. That’s about what you just pulled off, Mr. Simin.”

“At this rate, you’re going to have her eating steak in no time, telling her it’s good for her health.”

They fell silent.

Even as they said it, they could hardly believe their own words. The situation was so absurd it defied understanding.

What made it even more absurd was that it might actually become reality.

Aria ground her teeth whenever she saw a demon, especially since it was demons who had inflicted upon her a wound of irreparable humiliation. Yet that same Aria wasn’t rejecting Han Simin, who was openly standing on the demons’ side. She was just sulking and obediently following his words.

That alone made it more than possible.

“It must be the collar.”

“I’d really like to believe that.”

“Still, you really talked her into a corner with it, Mr. Simin.”

Even as she said it, Specialist knew better than anyone that wasn’t the whole story.

Aria had never been afraid of death to begin with.

Submit?

She wasn’t the type to submit just because someone held her life as collateral.

It had to be the combination of appropriate physical restraint followed by that long speech that had done the trick.

“Man.”

In any case, a day had passed since they arrived in the Demon World, and the party finally began to move.

They walked on with no particular destination.

“At least tell me where we are going.”

It wasn’t until Grokile, the local expert, finally asked a puzzled question that Han Simin tilted his head.

“Why are you asking me?”

He looked confused.

Everyone’s footsteps stopped at the same time.

Then, as one, their gazes turned to Grokile.

“Why are you all looking at me?”

No one answered.

They couldn’t exactly glare at Han Simin.

Everyone forcibly held back the urge to look at Simin and kept staring at Grokile instead.

Buoyed by that silent support, Han Simin shamelessly delivered his line.

“Who else would we look at? Imagine the master of a house asking a guest for directions. Does that make any sense?”

’House, he says.’

“Do you have any idea how vast the Demon World is...?”

“Don’t care.”

“In any case, if you tell me the objective, I will guide you.”

“Mm.”

He wanted to argue more, but Grokile was smart enough to know that opening his mouth would not only be a waste of breath, but he’d also end up getting hurt. He had already experienced that once.

He had no desire to experience it again, so he tucked his tail.

After thinking for a moment, Han Simin spoke up with a serious expression.

“The Demon King.”

“The Demon King?”

“Yeah. The Demon King. Take us to the Demon King.”

Silence descended.

Everyone was stunned.

At those words, all the gazes that had been desperately fixed on Grokile swung back to Han Simin as if on cue.

Those eyes were full of disbelief and questions.

And Grokile’s were the widest of all.

“Are you serious, human?”

“You think I’m just saying this for fun?”

“...The Demon King is—”

“Look, we can either wander around here until the warlocks finally flee and we get so old we can’t even turn on our capsules to log out, or we can go to the Demon King, negotiate, and tell him to cough up a solution. Either way, it makes no difference to me.”

Despite their doubts, Han Simin remained completely unruffled.

His composure had the welcome effect of quelling everyone’s anxiety.

“You’re right. We can ask the Demon King, and if there’s no way, then there’s no way. From what I’ve seen, the warlocks outside look like they’d sell their souls just to find a place to hide and breathe, never mind opening a Demon World Gate. If we can’t solve this ourselves, we’re out of options.”

Maybe it was a privilege unique to users.

Demon King or not, they could at least go talk to him.

The demons had to want to invade the continent too; surely they had some kind of last-resort method.

It also helped that they had seen the contents of the fourth Scenario Quest through the community.

“The current Demon King is more wicked, cunning, and powerful than any who has ever sat on the throne. Even I have never dared to think of speaking to the Demon King... It would be better to hope that one of the warlocks sacrifices his soul to open the Gate...”

“Hey, you dense idiot. Think about it. The entire continent is drunk on victory, ready to flay any warlock or demon they see and hold a festival with their hides. Do you really think a warlock is going to open a Gate shouting, I’ll summon demons even if it kills me!?”

“Still...”

“Guide us or die.”

“I will guide you.”

After a long, drawn-out negotiation, they finally settled on a direction.

*

The Emperor stood outside the magic circle, studying it closely.

“How is it?”

“There are no particular anomalies, Your Majesty. The circle itself is single-use, and while we cannot discern the detailed circuitry of the spell, judging by the massive leakage of dark magic and the fact that no demons were summoned—only the warlocks were sacrificed—it appears the circle misfired due to some abnormal phenomenon during activation.”

“What are the chances it could be activated again?”

“Extremely slim.”

“And the chances of dismantling it?”

“Those are also extremely slim. Warlock circles combine the magic circles used by mages with the knowledge of demons. Even warlocks themselves often fail to activate them if they lack highly specialized knowledge and a perfect understanding. Misfires are the least of their worries—many times the circles simply don’t activate at all. If, on top of that, this circle is the large-scale dimensional transfer circle linking the continent and the Demon World that Your Majesty mentioned...”

“I understand.”

This was the Tower Master speaking, not just anyone.

The Emperor had only asked because he wanted to get rid of the eyesore; he hadn’t seriously expected it to be possible.

“Post a permanent guard detail and order that any changes be reported as top priority.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

They still had no idea what the circle really was or why nothing had happened when it activated, but that was a blessing, wasn’t it?

If demons really had poured out in droves through this circle...

If that had happened, it might not be the warlocks who were running for their lives right now, but the Continental Army.

With that optimistic thought, he put the circle out of his mind for the moment.

It wouldn’t be too late to respond if something unusual happened.

Right now, the priority was hunting down the warlocks who had tucked their tails and were fleeing for their lives.

Having passed one critical hurdle, the Emperor headed for the palace.

The mere thought of seeing the Princess after so long seemed to wash away his fatigue.

At the same time, he felt a pang of guilt.

“The Princess asked me to bring that fellow with me, but it seems I will not be able to keep that promise.”

That fellow, Han Simin.

He felt the guilt of a father unable to grant his daughter’s request. She had been more insistent than ever lately, begging him to bring Simin back once the war was over.

Had he known what had recently transpired in the princess’s chambers, he wouldn’t have felt the slightest bit guilty. As it was, the Emperor even spared a small worry for Han Simin.

“I hope he wasn’t swept up by the warlocks and met some misfortune.”

It was only a faint concern.

After all, the man was an adventurer. He’d just resurrect and be running around somewhere, shaking people down for money again.

He was the kind of man who inspired relief before worry, even when you tried.

The Emperor let out a chuckle.

5.

Kenji, too, was thinking about Han Simin.

In his case, it was less worry and more unease.

’That bastard was running all over the battlefield, then after becoming the very man who led us to victory, he vanished like a ghost?’

It was possible.

Han Simin was one thing, but in the Specialists’ case, it meant she had, one way or another, cleared Act 3 of the Main Quest Scenario.

Or maybe not. He couldn’t be sure.

In a game this realistic, the quest itself could very well fail and the story would simply move on.

In any case, it made sense that she might have moved to secure the next quest ahead of everyone else.

Given that Specialist moved with the warlocks, she was both the most dangerous quest target and, simultaneously, in the best position to monopolize the Act 4 Main Quest Scenario.

If she’d made a move to get a head start, it would make sense.

However, in the real-time holographic rankings for Act 4, there was no sign of Specialist’s name, let alone Han Simin’s.

He flipped through page after page of the rankings, just in case, but he couldn’t find them.

’Maybe they went back to their base to bide their time and look for an opening?’

No, that didn’t make sense either.

If you wanted to earn merit, now was the perfect time.

The warlocks weren’t idiots. They had already scattered to the winds, each trying to save their own skin; there was no way they would have some designated rendezvous point.

And even if they did, and you went there and fought all the warlocks at once and won?

Even on the run, they still had enough power to swat users like children.

So what was it?

He couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

If that wasn’t it, there was no reason for them to have practically vanished.

’They just logged out because they were tired?’

A user who was estimated to play more than twenty hours a day?

Even if he entertained that ridiculous assumption, too much time had passed.

It had already been days.

For a guy who wouldn’t think twice about showing up to the Emperor to demand a reward and make a big show of it, his absence could only mean one thing.

Something had happened!

He might even be dead.

It had now been exactly two days since anyone had seen Han Simin.

If he still hadn’t shown up, the theory that he’d died was starting to look plausible.

’If he’s dead...’

But Kenji wanted, as much as possible, to think in a different direction.

The thought of him dying was pleasant, but it didn’t actually change anything.

If he came back and started rampaging again, everything Kenji was enjoying now would lose its luster.

So he prayed.

’Whatever happened, just don’t come back.’

This time, when he had achieved great merit in the war—if not on the level of the Sanctuary, then at least alongside a Legendary-grade mage—he wanted to enjoy the glory fully and undisturbed.

His prayer was, fortunately, answered.

Although his plan to quickly mobilize his guild members and territory NPCs to sweep up all the valuables from the battlefield had failed, an opportunity had arrived.

“His Majesty has summoned you.”

He was stunned.

“You are to arrive at the palace by the morning three days from now.”

It had been five days now, and Han Simin still hadn’t shown himself.

And in the midst of that, the Emperor was holding an investiture to reward contributions!

Which meant—

’I’m the top user now.’

It wasn’t just a title.

They were now in Act 4 of the Scenario.

The rewards that came with that might be on a completely different level from the low-tier items users got from farming Named Monsters.

He swallowed.

Every passing day felt like walking on thorns.

’Please don’t show up.’

Every time, it had always been like this: he would pray, and that guy would inevitably appear and get in his way.

It had been an almost superstitious string of bad luck.

He had a feeling this time would be no different.

But this time, it was different.

Up until the very morning of the appointed day, even as the Emperor stepped up onto the platform, Han Simin did not appear.

Kenji offered a silent thanks.

’As expected. Money never betrays you.’

It was a fitting mindset for someone who had become Han Simin’s personal cash cow.