A scream filled the cabin.
It was sand. No, judging by the absence of that unpleasant crunching sensation, it was sawdust. Or both?
Questions ran wild through his spinning mind. The outside had looked perfectly fine, but the inside of the bread was full of rough, dry things mixed in. His teeth ground against them. His tongue was scraped.
Jaewon covered his mouth with his hand and twisted his body.
Log stopped the claw he had been using to shell nuts and said,
“Serves you right.”
“What the—! This can’t be happening?”
Jaewon set the bread down on the table and peered inside. When he cut it open, large, coarse fibrous powder was visible to the naked eye inside the bread.
“This can’t be. Seriously.”
“Isn’t mill bread always like that?”
“No, wait.”
Jaewon frowned and sank into thought.
“Log, do you remember when I was wandering around the wheat fields not long ago?”
“I remember. You were sneaking around.”
“What was the state of the wheat back then?”
Log thought for a moment, then answered.
“It was a bumper crop. This year’s harvest looked quite good. Now that you mention it, if I could just have a little of the wheat you brought back then—”
“Then has the mill owner gone bad? If it was a bumper crop, there’s no way they’d be short on wheat.”
“Who knows? You never know what’s in a person’s heart. And you said you bought it earlier, but in truth, you stole—”
“Let’s move past that.”
“I don’t think we should.”
Jaewon ignored Log’s gaze and picked up the bread again.
“That mill in town isn’t just any place. Even noble young ladies sneak in there from time to time. It’s a pretty reputable place. I don’t think it’s likely bread like this would come from there.”
“So, if it’s bread from that kind of shop, then you didn’t buy it, Director, you—”
“I said move past that.”
Jaewon closed his eyes and chewed once more.
Forcing himself. Slowly.
He savored the rough texture on his tongue. There was definitely sawdust, but it seemed like there was something that wasn’t sawdust as well. It had a more delicate texture. Hard, long, and tough.
‘……Cellulose. It feels like I’m eating a book.’
“It’s tough.”
Jaewon muttered.
“Then spit it out.”
“No, wait. This is the taste of cellulose. I don’t think it’s wheat bran either.”
“Isn’t that all the same?”
“It’s different. Wheat bran is the outer husk of the wheat kernel, but this is closer to the stalk. If wheat is abundant, and yet this mill’s bread tastes like it has sawdust mixed in—”
Jaewon’s eyes slowly widened.
“They collected a lot of wheat.”
“……”
“They took away only the wheat grains in bulk and made bread with the leftover scraps. That’s why it tastes like this.”
Log tilted his head.
“It could just be that they levied a lot of taxes. That leap is—”
“Then why did they levy so much? Listen. For a mill of this caliber, who would do it? And why?”
Log seemed about to say something, then closed his mouth.
Jaewon raised a finger.
“The dwarves made cannons this time, didn’t they? If cannons spread, do you think the human lords will just sit still? Of course they’ll want to buy them. But the dwarves won’t just hand them over, so they’ll have to trade. What’s difficult to cultivate directly in the Dwarven Mountains?”
A brief silence.
Log slowly blinked.
“……Wheat?”
“Wheat beer. Dwarves love wheat beer. The human lords are trying to supply wheat in large quantities as payment for the cannons. That’s why the wheat around here is being swept away right now. What do you think of my insight?”
The cabin fell quiet for a moment.
Log seemed to think for a while as he rolled the half-shelled nut with his claw.
“……That is an extremely severe leap.”
“Exactly. Genius worthy of staking my pride on.”
“……”
Log shut his beak tight. He had instinctively realized that in this sort of situation, offering another logical hypothesis would be useless.
The parrot, small compared to a human, decided to slowly acknowledge it.
“...If we look only at the prediction itself, it does sound plausible.”
Jaewon set down the bread and grinned.
“Right?”
Jaewon rummaged in his clothes and took out a small pouch.
“Take it.”
When he tossed it over, Log snatched it with his claws. He looked inside the pouch and his eyes brightened slightly. It was wheat grains. Ones that had not yet been milled.
Log began picking them up one by one with his claws and eating them.
One grain, two grains.
Then he suddenly raised his head.
“By any chance.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you giving this to me as compensation because I evaluated your far-fetched theory positively just now, Director?”
Jaewon did not stop sorting the pile of parchment.
“I merely needed to satisfy my desire for affirmation.”
“You’re not denying it.”
“Just organize.”
Log asked no further and began eating the wheat grains again.
Jaewon flipped through the parchments on the table one by one. Patch records, divine power balance calculations, early world design documents. They were things he had piled up while thinking he would have to organize them someday. His hands moved familiarly, then stopped at one sheet.
It was an old parchment. The handwriting was different. It belonged to his predecessor.
- Omnipotent, yet do not reveal yourself. -
- The one who maintains the balance of the world must absolutely uphold this principle. -
Jaewon stared at the sentence for a while.
Omnipotent, yet do not reveal yourself.
A cabin halfway up a mountain that no one knew about. A place without windows or a signboard. Even when he added patches, he never put his name forward, merely writing “Patch Director” at the end of notices.
Perhaps he was upholding it better than anyone.
Jaewon folded the parchment and pushed it into one corner of the table.
Then he propped up his chin and thought.
‘If humans are buying cannons, their purpose must be invasion.’
The problem was which side. An opponent the human lords might pick a fight with. Politically and religiously, the side they had been at odds with the longest was the demons. The conflict with the demons had a long history, and it was bait the Constellations also took an interest in.
But the recent flow was different. The issue of logging in the Great Forest. The elves were quietly seething. If it developed into a border dispute, there was a possibility that a human-elf front would open.
‘Either way.’
Jaewon spread out a map and drummed his fingers on the table.
‘How can I design content with this as cheaply as possible?’
Conflict was already occurring naturally. Even without pouring in divine power, a stage that could interest the Constellations was being set. If he just nudged the spark a little here—
‘...’
He suddenly stopped drumming his fingers at a sense of dissonance. Then he turned his head toward the window side, where the human village would be.
So the village where these humans live looks this small on this little map too—
When he first took this position, designing war content had been extremely uncomfortable. The thought of people inside the world getting hurt bothered him, even if it was something happening within the system.
But now...
“If this world collapses because the Constellations run out of divine power, everyone dies anyway. What else can I do?”
“...?”
At his mutter, Log quietly nodded.
“Well, that’s true.”
The cabin fell silent for a moment.
Jaewon looked up at the ceiling and spoke.
“Should I just turn it into a healing game altogether?”
“……Pardon?”
“Get rid of combat. Get rid of disputes. Make it a world where adventurers tend flower gardens, cook, and get along with their neighbors. How’s that?”
Log slowly looked at Jaewon.
“In my world, Pokémon was the number one IP.”
“……”
“You catch them, raise them, battle with them, and everyone gets along. That sort of thing.”
Log let out a long sigh.
“Jaewon.”
“Yeah.”
“Even the Constellations you have now will all leave.”
“Well, if it doesn’t suit their tastes, then there’s nothing I can—”
“And if a fierce, brutal competition world suddenly changes into a healing game, there will be franchise consistency issues. Even new Constellations won’t trust it. They’ll say, ‘Is this going to pretend to be a healing game and then change again?’”
Jaewon thought for a moment, then raised a finger.
“Fine. I’ll just keep doing what I’ve been doing.”
Without a word, Log set the empty wheat pouch down on one side of his perch.
Jaewon picked up the parchment again.
The memo from his predecessor, which he had pushed into the corner of the table, was sticking out.
Omnipotent, yet do not reveal yourself.
Jaewon pushed it firmly back in.
...Then he suddenly leaned forward.
“I’ve got it.”
Log raised his head.
“A good idea.”
Log’s eyes narrowed.
“……What kind of idea?”
“The good kind.”
“Your standard of a good idea and the world’s standard of a good idea have never coincided even once so far.”
Ignoring Log’s grumbling, Jaewon had already opened the patch notes.
“I mentioned Pokémon earlier.”
“You did. And the conclusion was that recklessly changing the foundation of the world would, on the contrary, be a bad—”
“That’s not it.”
Jaewon picked up his pen and spoke in an excited voice.
“Why do you think people in my world went crazy for Pokémon?”
“……”
“Because they’re cute. Or incredibly cool. It’s one or the other. The reason Constellations spend money in the end is because they grow attached. And for attachment to form, you need characters.”
Log said slowly,
“Don’t tell me.”
“We create a new species. Something cute. Or incredibly cool. Something that makes the Constellations open their wallets the moment they see it.”
Jaewon’s pen began racing enthusiastically across the patch notes.
Appearance concept. Ecological settings. Habitat. A narrative that would make Constellations want to sponsor them—
A faint light appeared above the notebook.
And immediately went out.
Instead, a line of red text appeared.
⚠ Warning: Insufficient divine power.
Unable to create new ecosystem element.
Jaewon’s pen stopped.
Log said,
“Of course.”
“……”
“Didn’t you personally check how little divine power remains just now? Creating a new species is among the highest-cost tasks in world design. You have to design everything, including appearance, ecology, language, reproductive structure, and even links with the surrounding ecosystem.”
“……”
“And haven’t you experienced enough this week what happens when elements are added without considering organic integration?”
Jaewon stared at the red warning message for a while.
Then he put down the pen and leaned back against the chair.
He looked at the ceiling.
He thought.
There was no divine power. He could not create a new species. If he touched the ecosystem and another bug exploded, he would not be able to handle it.
But he had to give the Constellations attachment.
He could not make something new.
He had to use what already existed.
If he was going to create attachment using what already existed—
Jaewon’s eyes slowly fixed on something.
“Log.”
“Yes.”
“There are existing species, aren’t there?”
“There are.”
“Those.”
“Yes.”
“What if we made them cute?”
The cabin fell silent.
Log looked at Jaewon.
Jaewon looked at Log.
“Goblins, for example. Kobolds. Orcs.”
For instance, a Pocket Orc.
Even if the company that made Pokémon back on Earth found out about this, this was so unlike plagiarism that they probably would not sue.
“……”
“Just looking at them, they’re races the Constellations don’t sponsor, right? Their appearance is the problem. Their appearance. But if we just slightly—”
“Jaewon.”
“Yeah.”
“That is.”
Log paused, choosing his words.
“A grotesque idea.”
“Is it?”
“Have you thought about what it means to make an orc cute before saying it?”
Jaewon pictured an orc’s face in his mind.
Some had pig noses like in Japanese RPGs, while others looked vicious, as if they had come from hell.
“……Just a little.”
“What is the standard for ‘a little’?”
“Make their eyes a bit bigger, maybe.”
“……”
“Make their eyes look bright and sparkling.”
“……”
“For goblins, bring out their petite charm.”
Log drew in a long breath.
Jaewon had already begun writing something in the patch notes.
This time, no red warning appeared.
Adjusting the appearance of existing species. Minimal divine power consumption. No need for ecosystem linkage.
Without cost.
Without bugs.
An idea that might open the Constellations’ wallets.
The corners of Jaewon’s mouth slid upward.
Log quietly closed his eyes as he watched that expression.
Praying that, whoever the targeted race might be, they would prepare themselves.