Ch.201Chapter 201. Epilogue (1)

Chapter 201. Aftermath (1)

“Herald of Malak! Come witness innovation and progress like never before!”

The voice of Harry, filled with excitement, echoed through the science research center—the only one in the tribal federation.

“Look! This is humanity’s pride!”

‘Hmm, is that so.’

Everything is humanity’s pride to him. Since he used that line when we got the giant god, he’s now on verse two and heading for verse three.

I scratched my cheek with my intact left hand while examining the result of Harry’s months of seclusion in his lab.

Unnecessarily large wheels. A seat so high it required a stepladder to climb into. An engine that vibrated violently with a “vroom~” sound.

What stood before me was something like an apocalyptically modified truck. It looked like it belonged in “Mad Max: Fury Road.”

“Uh…”

No. Has this old man gone mad? I clearly ordered him to create a mass-producible car. Why does the result look like this?

This isn’t even an outdated April Fool’s joke.

“No matter how I look at it, this doesn’t seem mass-producible. It’s too high for children to get in.”

Lakye, standing beside me with folded arms, furrowed her brow.

“That can be solved with a folding ladder!”

“That’s too cumbersome. Why make a complicated folding ladder when you could just lower the height?”

“B-but still!”

Harry began to protest at my words.

“I had to make it taller to fit more magic stones as fuel! It’s essential for long journeys!”

So basically, he made it bulkier to extend the battery life.

“Is there really a need to put in so much at once? You could just carry spare fuel in the cargo area.”

“Then we’d need to enlarge the cargo area, which might compromise this ‘automobile’s’ performance. Because…”

It was just an excuse about cutting-edge technology still having unstable aspects, so he prioritized specifications.

What a lie. It’s obvious he just threw in everything he wanted.

It reminds me of “Men’s Mecha Romance Requirements” I saw online:

1. A machine that shouldn’t exist

2. A machine that must not exist

3. The zeroth machine not in records

4. The 13th machine in a series that only has 12

5. Output no pilot can withstand

6. A hastily built machine using ancient technology

7. A non-standard machine no one can handle

Was that it?

Honestly, despite the grandiose words, it’s just:

“In the end, isn’t it just an unstable failure?”

Ah. I accidentally said that out loud. Anyway, grandpa, there should be limits to men’s fantasies.

“Kuk…!”

Harry, who had been trembling, nodded.

“Very well. I shall try again.”

I’m glad he seems to accept it. Despite appearances, he’s not completely stubborn.

I told him I’d come back later and left the lab with Lakye.

“Indeed… not an ordinary human but a herald… doesn’t understand human hearts…”

I ignored Harry’s muttering as we walked away.

“Hmm.”

Maybe it’s because of the bandage on my right arm, but my balance feels off, making walking uncomfortable.

“S-Sans-nim. I’m sorry…”

Lakye became dejected. I was limping slightly, and she must have noticed.

“It’s fine.”

A few days ago, Lakye broke my right arm. It wasn’t intentional—it was an accident that happened while she was trying to help me.

Since then, Lakye has been blaming herself for failing to control her strength and won’t even touch me.

Sigh. If I had a sturdy paladin body like other possessors, I wouldn’t have been injured.

“These things happen.”

That’s right. I didn’t receive the incarnated body of true Malak, nor the robust physique of paladins.

I, who inherited the will(?) of true Malak and became the second Malak, became an ordinary Korean man in his 20s. In other words, I returned to my original body.

Well, I preferred it this way. At least I’m not a limbless totem. I can walk on my own feet and touch things with my own hands while enjoying all kinds of food.

Now I transfer my consciousness to the totem only when necessary, pretending to be Malak.

“Shall we go get some sandwiches?”

“…Yes.”

Lakye nodded. Though she couldn’t express joy honestly due to her guilt, her eyes were sparkling.

As we walked toward the plaza where the sandwich shop was located:

“Ah, Sans-nim!”

“Herald of the Storm God!”

“Hello!”

A civilized woman, a barbarian man, and a mixed-race child greeted me.

“Oh, Sans. How’s your arm? You were in the hospital for a while.”

“It’s manageable?”

“Take care of yourself. You’re not a paladin anymore.”

“I will.”

There were also possessors who approached casually to chat. This one’s username… honestly, I’ve forgotten.

To people, I wasn’t the “Second Malak” but the “Herald of Malak.”

The story goes that true Malak, despite being a paladin, appreciated my hard work and used his power to return me to my original body… something like that.

It couldn’t be helped. If an Asian man suddenly claimed “I’m the second Malak,” it would only cause confusion. I had to coordinate with Lakye, who knows the truth.

When I transfer my consciousness to the totem, I’m Storm God Malak. When I’m walking around like now, I’m Herald Sans. This was our compromise.

After walking a bit more, we arrived at the sandwich shop in the plaza. It was bustling with civilized people, barbarians, and possessors alike.

“Popular as always.”

This shop with the terrible name “Earth-style Bakery” is run by Bramanda and DinosaurPunch.

They created it with the intention of “making food that both Earthlings and otherworlders can enjoy,” and it’s quite tasty.

It was also reasonable to utilize the abundant wheat—a result of the “Storm God’s Power”—in various foods. That’s also why it became a bakery rather than a restaurant.

“How much is it?”

“Five coins.”

Bramanda smiled kindly. He has a warm appearance.

Ah, we also created and circulated currency. While it wasn’t a familiar concept to barbarians (though civilized people understood it), it was necessary.

“Wow, prices went up again. Wages don’t increase but prices keep rising…”

MonkeyUncle, who received his sandwich at the front of the line, grumbled.

“It’s organic, you know. Be understanding.”

Siwoo, or MorningTentInstaller, who came with MonkeyUncle, consoled him. They seemed close, probably because they both posted nonsense on the community.

“But there’s only organic options. Don’t you have something like ‘Exploitative Plantation GMO Environmental Destruction Imperialist’s Generous Sandwich’?”

“As if. You crazy bastard.”

Siwoo lightly flicked MonkeyUncle’s forehead with a “tap!” They’re quite the playful duo.

“Hello.”

“Wow, Sans! The herald himself has graced us with his presence.”

Bramanda whistled playfully.

It was good to see him looking happy, considering how he used to be heartbroken whenever he saw possessors like Abraham who had lost hope.

“Two sandwiches. No, make it three.”

“Okay~!”

DinosaurPunch, who was kneading flour in the back, grinned. Was she a baker before? Or maybe a baking student?

Anyway, watching her whisk eggs and remove air bubbles from the dough with a wooden rolling pin, she definitely seemed professional.

In this rebuilding world, a trained chef was a precious occupation, and DinosaurPunch received special treatment.

She probably earns quite a lot even among possessors (most of whom are unemployed).

But the one who earns the most is probably…

“It’s been a while. UltraSansMadWithMoonlightMassacreMode.”

This bastard.

A man in black armor stood behind me with a solemn face. The idiot who wants to be called EunuchBro, MeleeSpy.

“I see you’re on a date with the region’s most beautiful girl. A herald’s privilege?”

I swallowed the words ‘what bullshit-‘ and forced myself to answer.

“I thought you hated bread. Didn’t you say it chokes you?”

“It’s not bad occasionally.”

What nonsense. He’s obviously running an errand for the extremely busy Rachel.

MeleeSpy became Rachel’s knight.

‘Now that we’re in peaceful times, it’s time to fulfill my dream.’

MeleeSpy’s original dream was to be a novelist.

He had grand ambitions to post novels on the community, gauge reactions, and eventually publish them as books, but this unattainable dream was quickly suppressed.

[MeleeSpy: Hiding Chicken with Status Window in the Apocalypse Chapter 56]

– Comments –

[LuluTV: Throwing chicken bones is cliché]

[OhDoGreatMan: Did you think the novel industry was that easy?]

[WolfBug: Tender Braised Beef Ribs Recipe – Pour enough water to cover the ribs…]

[MonkeyUncle:

EunuchBro – Master! Don’t be angry! I’ll handle these trolls! You bastard!

Smack!

Troll – Argh!

EunuchBro – Hmm, weak?

Troll – You punk!

Bam bam bam~! Smack smack bang bang~!

EunuchBro – Uwah! (coughing blood)

Troll – Heh, this is my power

MeleeSpy – How dare a mere troll hurt my reader?

Troll – Come at me, punk

Smack!

MeleeSpy – Hehe. That tickles.

Bam bam bam bang~! Thump thump crash~!

Troll – Argh! Stop! I surrender! I’ll never leave bad comments again!

MeleeSpy – Muhahaha!

EunuchBro – Hooray for Master~!

And so MeleeSpy wrote fun novels without any trolls!]

Just looking at the reactions, you can tell, right?

So-called novelist MeleeSpy, who had been enjoying his unemployed life in his room, was formally hired by Rachel.

She couldn’t let the second strongest person after Lakye go to waste, apparently.

As I was about to leave with my sandwiches:

“…Sans?”

I came face to face with Hannah, the red-haired short-bobbed paladin.