An Economic Development Tale of the Demon Realm
Invited to share—here I am in the Demon Realm, just became the new Great Demon Lord.
As the strongest cultivator in the Cultivation World, I was forced to ascend, only to accidentally fall into the Demon Realm's starter village. Staring at a group of starving little demons in front of me, I fell into deep thought.
"Lord, we're hungry, we want food!"
Fine, let's set a small goal first—boost the Demon Realm's GDP.
I started livestreaming, developed tourism, and promoted the Demon Realm's characteristic cultural industries.
Until the Immortal Emperor led a million celestial soldiers to press forward: "Demon, meet your end!"
I silently took out the "Demon Realm Model Worker" trophy: "Sorry, but this place is under my management now."
The Immortal Emperor looked at the prosperous, harmonious new scene of "Demon Realm with Distinctive Socialism" before him, and fell into deep thought.
The ascension tribulation clouds finally dispersed.
The terrifying energy that had roiled for months, almost tearing a hole in the sky of the Cultivation World, drained the last trace of spiritual energy and reluctantly faded away. Radiant rays pierced the clouds, celestial music lingered, and the guiding immortal bridge loomed faintly. Lin Mo—the undisputed strongest cultivator in the history of the Cultivation World, the "monster" who had absorbed all the spiritual energy of this world—was finally about to ascend.
Below, cultivators who had flocked from all corners of the Cultivation World knelt in a dense crowd. Their eyes mixed with awe, excitement, and a hint of barely noticeable relief—this supreme expert was finally leaving; if he stayed any longer, everyone would barely have enough spiritual energy to maintain their cultivation levels.
Lin Mo stood with his hands behind his back in the void, his expression indifferent. He showed no interest in this standard ascension spectacle, even yawning softly. However, just as he lifted his foot to step onto the guiding immortal bridge, an unexpected change occurred!
A chaotic, twisted force appeared out of nowhere, like an invisible giant hand, roughly disrupting the ascension passage. The radiant rays shattered, the celestial music turned into a shrill noise, and the guiding immortal bridge "cracked" and broke. Lin Mo only felt his feet go empty, and his whole body was dragged by an irresistible suction into an unknown dimension filled with the stench of sulfur and decay.
"Tsk, shoddy work." These were his last thoughts before losing consciousness.
When his consciousness returned, the first thing he smelled was a strong, pungent sulfur odor, mixed with the stench of rotten moss. Under him was hard, jagged black rock, emanating a cold chill.
Lin Mo opened his eyes and sat up.
Looking around, the sky was an eternal dim yellow, as if covered by something dirty. Twisted, menacingly shaped strange rocks jutted out everywhere; the ground was cracked and dry, with only a few glowing ferns barely clinging to life. Thin, violent demonic energy filled every inch of the air—a place that was nothing short of poisonous for cultivators.
Well, environmental assessment: extremely harsh, uninhabitable for normal living beings.
Then he heard rustling sounds, and… the sound of someone swallowing.
He turned his head.
Not far away, a group of creatures—barely qualifying as "living beings"—were staring at him timidly. They were short, with wrinkled skin the color of spoiled potatoes, small horns on their heads, and thin tails behind them. Their large, cloudy eyes were filled with confusion and… hunger.
There were about twenty or thirty of them.
So these were demons?
Compared to the descriptions in the Cultivation World's classics—with green faces and fangs, standing ten feet tall, bloodthirsty and brutal—they were not even remotely similar.
The two sides faced off (mostly the little demons tensing up unilaterally) for a long time.
Finally, one demon that seemed a bit bolder took a small step forward, tilted its wrinkled face, and looked at Lin Mo with a tearful, slurred tone, eyes full of longing:
"L-Lord… we're hungry… want food…"
Lin Mo: "..."
He stared silently at the group of "starter village demons" that would fall over in a gust of wind and were crying out for food, then felt the "Demon Realm" where demonic energy (spiritual energy's counterpart) was so thin it was ridiculous and resources were so scarce that not even birds would nest here.
Even with his Dao heart honed by ten thousand years of cultivation, he couldn't help but feel a slight ripple at this moment.
This was a far cry from the post-ascension life he had imagined.
His original plan was: after reaching the Immortal World, find a quiet cave with beautiful mountains and clear waters, continue secluding himself to cultivate, and outdo all those Immortal Emperors and Venerables. But now…
"Food…" Another little demon mustered up the courage to echo softly.
Lin Mo rubbed his eyebrows.
Fine.
Since I'm already here.
He looked at the little demons staring at him eagerly, then glanced at the desolate, barren Demon Realm around him.
Let's set a small goal first.
Like, boosting the GDP of this starter village.
In the Demon Realm, there was no alternation of sun and moon—only eternal silence and hunger.
The little demons originally thought that this new "Lord," who had fallen from the sky and had a strange aura (no demonic energy but intimidating), would be like the previous leaders: leading them to fight for territory, only to be beaten and flee, or starve so much they had to gnaw on rocks.
But this new Lord was different.
First, he spent a few days walking around this barren corner called the "Abandoned Land" with a blank expression. From time to time, he squatted down to pinch a handful of soil or tap those black rocks.
Then, he instructed the little demons to draw a huge, complex pattern on the ground in a way they couldn't understand—twisted lines that looked messy (a modified version of the Spiritual Concentration Array, renamed the "Energy Concentration Array"). This array slightly tamed and concentrated the violent, thin demonic energy in the air.
Next, he found a type of black moss that grew in rock crevices—something they had always regarded as weeds. The Lord roasted and ground it with a strange flame (a weakened version of the Samadhi True Fire), mixed it with a stinking swamp mud (after a certain purification process), and finally produced a… black paste that actually filled their stomachs and didn't cause stomachaches!
"Food!" The little demons erupted in excitement. Their eyes when looking at Lin Mo changed from fear to admiration.
But this was just the beginning.
The Lord said: "Just filling our stomachs isn't enough—we need to generate income."
He told the little demons to collect those glowing ferns, strangely shaped bones, and weirdly colored ores. Then, using a method they couldn't comprehend (the basics of artifact refining), he turned these "junk items" into… "night lights" that automatically emitted faint, shifting glows, "bone flutes" that played eerie, whimpering tunes, and even some rough but oddly cute stone statues (by Demon Realm aesthetics)!
"These things are called 'commodities'," the Lord explained concisely.
After that, he somehow opened an extremely unstable, intermittent "passage" connecting to a low-tech plane.
A shabby light screen—apparently picked up from some garbage dump—was set up.
Lin Mo adjusted the angle to focus on the "commodities" and the desolate but exotic Demon Realm landscape behind them.
"Livestream e-commerce?" A little demon looked at the scrolling text it couldn't understand on the light screen and asked in confusion.
"Mm," Lin Mo nodded. Facing the light screen, he read the advertising copy in a flat tone: "Demon Realm specialty—dark light fern potted plants. They create a cold atmosphere, perfect for those practicing shadow-element techniques. Free shipping… but no delivery."
Surprisingly, viewers from that low-tech plane seemed fascinated by these "otherworldly" and "Demon Realm-style" items. Although the signal was erratic and orders were scarce, when the first order was completed, the little demons stared at the few shiny low-grade energy ores (defined as "currency" by the Lord) transmitted through the unstable passage and cried while hugging each other.
For the first time, the Demon Realm had "income."
Tourism soon followed. The Lord marked off a relatively "safe" area and named it the "Demon Realm Abandoned Land Characteristic Scenery Experience Zone." Through that unstable passage, a few bold tourists from the low-tech plane—dressed in strange clothes—would occasionally pay a hefty "transmission fee" and "risk deposit" to come "adventure."
Following the Lord's training, the little demons tried their best to put on what they thought were ferocious expressions (which actually looked like they were constipated), performed "daily demon survival routines" (mainly digging moss and avoiding the occasional weak demonized scorpion), and sold those handmade "specialties."
Although the number of tourists was negligible, the prototype of the "Demon Realm characteristic cultural industry" had finally taken shape.
Days passed. The range of the Energy Concentration Array expanded, the output of black moss paste increased, and they could even add dried demonized worms to their meals occasionally to improve their diet. The types of "commodities" grew more diverse, and the number of steady viewers in the livestream room exceeded single digits. The little demons gradually gained some weight; their eyes were no longer filled with pure hunger and apathy. A few particularly clever ones even learned to bargain in broken universal language from other planes.
Lin Mo looked at this land—still barren, but now glowing with a faint spark of vitality—and nodded.
GDP growth was slow, but the trend was positive.
He even received a crudely made "Demon Realm Model Worker" trophy—made by the little demons from discarded bones and glowing stones—for his "outstanding contributions to promoting economic development in the Demon Realm's Abandoned Land and boosting employment and social stability for low-level demons."
He casually placed it on a flat black rock that served as a table.
However, the Demon Realm was more than just this forgotten corner.
The small commotion Lin Mo had caused, the faint but continuous energy fluctuations, and that inter-plane unstable passage were like a small stone thrown into stagnant water—ripples eventually spread outward.
On this day, the dim yellow sky was suddenly torn apart by an extremely bright, blazing golden immortal light!
Countless auspicious clouds spread across the sky; the thunderous sound of celestial drums and thunder shook the heavens. A murderous aura instantly dispelled the Demon Realm's inherent sulfur smell.
A million celestial soldiers and generals—clad in bright armor, their banners blocking the sky—formed a majestic battle formation and surrounded this tiny "Abandoned Land."
The powerful immortal might pressed down like a tangible tsunami. The little demons, who had only had enough to eat a few days ago, trembled under this terrifying heavenly might, huddling together, unable to even stand straight.
At the front of the immortal formation, on a palanquin carried by nine dragons, the Immortal Emperor was surrounded by nine-colored divine light. His face was shrouded in boundless majesty, and his eyes held no emotion, as if he were looking down at ants. His voice was loud and powerful, carrying the weight of judgment, rolling across the land:
"Demon from the lower realm, you dare to disturb the planes and steal energy instead of staying in your place! Today, I, the Emperor, lead the celestial army in person to crush this demon lair, execute the chief evildoer, and uphold the heavenly laws! Demon, come out and meet your end!"
It's over, it's over, it's over… The little demons turned ashen, feeling like doomsday had come. They had just started to have enough to eat, and their good days had barely begun—were they going to end already?
Amid the desperate silence and the terrifying pressure from the million celestial soldiers, a figure slowly walked out from behind the largest black rock.
He was still wearing that green robe, spotless.
Lin Mo rubbed his somewhat sleepy eyes, as if he had just been woken up. He glanced at the grand formation in the sky, his face showing no reaction.
He didn't even acknowledge the Immortal Emperor's murderous declaration. Instead, he slowly took out something from behind him.
It was a crudely assembled trophy made of bones and glowing stones—lopsided in shape, shoddy in craftsmanship, with a few twisted Demon Realm characters carved on it.
He held up this "Demon Realm Model Worker" trophy and casually showed it to the Immortal Emperor and the million celestial soldiers.
Then he lifted his eyelids slightly, his tone flat, even carrying a hint of annoyance at being disturbed. Facing the Immortal Emperor—who held power over all celestial beings—he spoke:
"Sorry, but this place is under my management now."
For the first time, a crack appeared in the Immortal Emperor's eternal majestic expression. His gaze involuntarily passed over Lin Mo and fell on that "demon lair."
There were no piles of corpses or seas of blood as he had imagined, no soaring clouds of demonic energy, no ferocious demon army.
Only a group of thin (but healthier now) little demons who looked harmless to humans and animals, huddling together, sneaking glances at them with fear and curiosity.
In the distance, there was a reclaimed field planted with black moss (basic agriculture), piles of weirdly shaped handicrafts next to it (cultural industry), complex arrays carved on the ground that they couldn't understand but seemed to regulate energy (infrastructure construction), and a light screen flickering with unstable static, on which text from another plane seemed to be scrolling (inter-plane trade)…
A scene of… busyness and backwardness, but somehow filled with strange harmony and vigorous vitality—a scene of "construction"?
The Immortal Emperor: "..."
The murderous aura gathered by the million celestial soldiers behind him faltered.
The Immortal Emperor looked at this "Demon Realm" that was completely different from his perception, and at the green-robed man holding a shabby trophy with a matter-of-fact expression. For the first time, his eternal, unchanging way of thinking fell into a state of shutdown-like deep thought.
What… is going on here?