326 Missing the Game of the Year Award

Aaaaah!

Ah, damn it!

You really did it!

I knew something like this might happen, but not this brazenly interfering.

Of course, from D’s perspective, leaving things as they are wouldn’t be interesting.

So this result was expected.

Expected, yes—but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t infuriate me.

You said you’d punch me, I braced myself, and then you actually did—of course it hurts, of course it’s infuriating.

My ideal was to remain hidden, operating behind the scenes, directly shaping the outcome without anyone noticing.

In short, my victory would have been complete if I could break the system unnoticed.

By the time people realized what was happening, the system would have collapsed—causing widespread death, yes, but saving the world and the goddess in the process.

From the perspective of humanity, devastated as it is, the event would feel like a sudden, catastrophic disaster with no prior warning. But from my standpoint, that would be the easiest outcome with no complications.

But would that D allow such a thing?

No.

Rhetorical.

In game terms, it would be like the final boss operating in secret, the protagonist unaware, receiving no hints, and suddenly facing game over.

What a terrible game.

There should be some indication somewhere—some clue that the final boss is manipulating events! It must be stopped! That’s how games are supposed to work.

And that’s precisely why the protagonists rise up to dismantle the final boss’s schemes.

Even if the game were to impose a sudden time limit with no hints, and the player were adventuring in irrelevant locations, then abruptly ending with game over—it wouldn’t function as a game at all.

But from the final boss’s perspective, that would be the easiest way to win.

Why must I give hints to someone who might be an enemy by choice?

It’s obvious that staying hidden and acting behind the scenes would be better.

I think the villain’s side is too disadvantaged in games.

And yet, this is reality—even if there are status values and game-like elements.

Then there’s no need to make it feel like a game, is there?

Infiltrate. Infiltrate.

Haha, by the time you notice, it’ll be too late.

Yes, that’s what I wanted.

This world isn’t a game.

But it is a divine playfield.

A nuisance, though.

Now all the conditions for a proper game have been met.

Now.

If I’m the game’s final boss, who would oppose me?

First, the Pope.

The Pope acts for humanity—especially for the human race.

Calling him humanity’s guardian would not be an exaggeration.

I will certainly oppose you, who seek to turn against humanity.

Reasoning or persuasion is pointless.

As that Demon King is known as a monster of the mind, breaking his will is impossible.

That old, stubborn fool hears less than a horse’s ear.

The Pope’s problem is that, knowing full well he will be an enemy, he possesses one of the ruler skills—Temperance.

He holds one of the administrator permissions that unlock the hidden menu of the system, the key to system collapse.

I could, in theory, force open that key with brute strength.

But the consequences of doing so are unpredictable.

Therefore, if I wish to take a safe approach, I must secure all administrator permissions.

Having one such permission in enemy hands is extremely problematic.

To obtain the Authority of Temperance, one must either persuade the Pope to surrender it or eliminate the Pope.

That’s why I said persuasion is impossible!

Thus, the Pope’s future is sealed.

The one certain adversary is Balt.

The man who has served as the Demon Lord’s aide for years.

Surprised?

That is not the case.

Balt has dedicated himself entirely to the sake of the Demon Clan.

Though the direction differs, he shares common ground with the Pope and with Argner, who also fought for the Demon Clan.

Balt followed the Demon Lord because he judged it best for the Demon Clan.

He did not oppose the Demon Lord, the absolute threat, but rather accommodated him to prevent the Demon Lord’s wrath from turning toward the Demon Clan.

If the matter concerns the survival of the Demon Clan, he would have resolved to oppose me—the root cause.

If Barth were to make the difficult choice—either challenge the Demon King and face annihilation, or wage war against humanity and survive at great cost—

…perhaps his stomach would split open in agony.

Then there is the greatest issue: Black.

He is a coward, but he will surely oppose me.

Because what I am doing goes against the will of the goddess herself—the one who is meant to be saved.

Black, who lives only for the sake of that goddess, cannot act against her wishes.

Hmph.

Yes, that’s right.

The goddess herself is the most complicated part of this problem.

We are doing everything to save her, yet she seeks to erase her own existence for the sake of humanity.

The one we are trying to save does not wish to be saved.

And the method we are using to save her—the mass slaughter of humanity—directly contradicts her will.

Naturally, the goddess is furious.

What we're doing probably looks like evil from an outside perspective.

Still, we'll do it.

Because the Demon King willed it.

The one who decided to save her—despite making enemies of the entire world, despite being hated by the one they saved—was the Demon King.

So, shouldn't the Demon King have allies?

That's settled.

No matter who tries to interfere, no matter who becomes an enemy.

But...

Isn't this timing wrong?

The teacher stares with a sharp gaze. Yes.

Aaaaah!

Aaaah, come on!

You did it!

...What now?