The Demonic Realm-Characteristic Economic Development Community (Continued)
The Lord of the Rotting Marsh's "tributes" and pleas vanished like a clay ox entering the sea—sinking into the endless darkness of the Thousand-Eyed Abyss, woven from countless writhing eyes—without stirring even a ripple.
That ancient being seemed utterly uninterested in the rise and fall of a few Demon Lords on the edge of the realm. Or rather, Lin Mo's "technical" way of erasing the Bone Monarch had not touched the fundamental interests of its tier, failing to rouse it to even open its eyes for a glance.
With the bubble of hope shattered, the Lord of the Rotting Marsh sank into deeper despair and mania. It locked itself in the core of the toxic swamp, surrounded by its most loyal yet twisted venomous derivatives, and reinforced its lair's defenses day and night. It layered hundreds of millions of known curses, poisons, and mental pollutants, turning its home into a Demonic Realm version of a deadly poison den. It was determined: even if that green-robed demon came knocking, it would make him pay—costing him a few teeth, or at the very least, tainting his power with the most malicious curses.
After a brief outburst of rage, the Lava Giant also retreated into a similar state of seclusion, though its style leaned toward building an absolute physical barrier with boiling magma and hard volcanic rock.
They stood on high alert, waiting for the sword that might strike from anywhere.
Yet the sword never fell, splitting their defenses with overwhelming force as expected.
The first step of Lin Mo's "peaceful reunification" plan was "technical poverty alleviation."
A "Community Technical Exchange Mission," composed of core members from the "Technology R&D Center" (mainly a few lesser demons who learned formations fastest) and the "Medical and Health Group" (newly established to research the nutritional ratio of black moss paste and treat simple bone injuries), appeared in a small toxic mushroom forest village on the edge of the Rotting Marsh.
This village relied on harvesting "sleep mushrooms"—which secrete a paralyzing toxin—for survival. Life was extremely harsh; the villagers (some low-level mushroom demons and swamp spirits) were gaunt and emaciated, their bodies covered in festering wounds from long-term exposure to toxins.
Under the banner of "promoting the joint development of Demonic Realm biotechnology," the exchange mission brought three key things:
First, an improved "basic antidote." Made by simply blending several types of glowing moss common in the Abandoned Land with a specific kind of bone powder from the Bone Monarch's territory, it could effectively neutralize the paralyzing toxin emitted when harvesting sleep mushrooms, greatly reducing the villagers' risk of poisoning and suffering.
Second, an "efficient mushroom cultivation method." By fine-tuning the swamp's humidity and introducing specific humus (bone powder from the Bone Monarch's territory and black moss residues from the Abandoned Land), the yield of sleep mushrooms could increase by 30%, while also boosting the purity of their toxin—and thus their value.
Third, free basic medical treatment from the "Medical and Health Group" to treat the festering wounds caused by toxins.
At first, the villagers reacted with extreme wariness and rejection. The Lord of the Rotting Marsh's propaganda machine had long been in motion, painting the Abandoned Land as a terrifying place that devoured demon souls.
But the pressure of survival and the tangible benefits eventually overcame fear.
When the first bold swamp spirit tried the antidote and found itself no longer dizzy and disoriented while harvesting sleep mushrooms, the tide began to turn. When the villagers saw that the cultivation method demonstrated by the exchange mission really made the mushrooms grow faster and better, doubt turned to curiosity, then to eagerness.
"Can… can you teach us this technology?" the oldest mushroom demon in the village asked, trembling.
"Of course we can!" The mission leader—a lesser demon with an unusually large head—enthusiastically pulled out a prepared, illustrated (though the drawings were very abstract) technical manual. "Our 'Community' upholds the concept of knowledge sharing and joint development! As long as you register to join, you can learn it for free!"
No coercion, no threat of force—only solid technology and visible benefits.
Almost overnight, the entire small toxic mushroom forest village "naturalized." They hung the "Community" symbol—an abstract pattern made of glowing moss and bones—and began cultivating sleep mushrooms using the new technology. The increase in yield and quality immediately brought them more income from energy ores.
The news spread like a virus among the oppressed lower-class villages in the Rotting Marsh.
More "technical exchange missions" were sent to different regions, targeting local specialties: some guided the optimization of venomous snake domestication and venom extraction techniques; others helped improve the weaving process of swamp cotton (a fibrous plant that grows in miasma); some even began researching how to safely extract and utilize the miasma energy naturally present in the swamp.
Every time technology took root, it was accompanied by the spread of the "Community" concept and the loyalty of the lower-class demons.
The Lord of the Rotting Marsh was horrified to discover that its territory was being "digested" in a way it could not understand. Its curse barriers remained intact, with no external attacks—but the foundation of its rule, the lower-class villages it had never bothered to look at, were "changing color" in large swathes. The inspection teams it sent often encountered ambushes by "unidentified" militias (spontaneously formed by local demons) before reaching the defecting villages, or were simply repelled by the simple yet effective defense traps newly set up in the villages.
It felt like a tree hollowed out from the inside—seemingly intact on the surface, but ready to topple with a gentle push.
Economic blows soon followed.
Using its integrated resources and technological advantages, the "Community" began dumping low-cost "universal antidote pills" (made from glowing mushrooms and bone powder from the Bone Monarch's territory) and "anti-toxin protective clothing" (blended from swamp cotton and shadow cloth) into the Rotting Marsh. These products were cheap yet far more effective than local alternatives, quickly capturing the lower-class market.
The toxin trade and high-end curse services that the Lord of the Rotting Marsh relied on to sustain its ruling elite were severely hit by the shrinking lower-class market and the loss of raw material sources. The high-ranking poison witches and curse masters under its command began complaining about reduced incomes, scarce resources, and wavering loyalty.
Finally, when another border town announced its joining of the "Community" and cut off the supply of a key poisonous herb to the Lord of the Rotting Marsh's lair, the Lord collapsed.
It never got the decisive battle it had expected; instead, it became a loner silently, trapped in a shrinking patch of toxic swamp.
Letting out a final, desperate roar, it channeled the terrifying venomous energy it had accumulated over ten thousand years, preparing to self-destruct—dragging the entire Rotting Marsh and that damned "Community" into the abyss of destruction.
But just as it gathered all its power and was about to detonate its core—
A figure in green appeared like a ghost, ignoring the countless layers of curses and poison barriers it had laid, and stood directly above the toxic swamp where it hid.
Lin Mo looked down at the massive poison tumor (the Lord of the Rotting Marsh's true form) churning violently at the bottom of the swamp, emanating destructive fluctuations as it gathered power.
He frowned slightly.
"Self-destruct tendencies go against the principles of sustainable development."
He stretched out his hand and pressed down gently.
An invisible, absolute force of "order" instantly enveloped the entire swamp. The boiling, impending destructive energy—like a wild horse被套 with a rein—was forcibly sorted, compressed, and guided.
The Lord of the Rotting Marsh felt its power slip out of control—not scattered, but forcibly "regulated" by a higher-level force, becoming docile and… useful?
Its venomous energy core, accumulated over ten thousand years, was torn away from the self-destruct state, transforming into a fist-sized, crystal-clear "Ten-Thousand-Poison Core" that emanated dangerous yet stable fluctuations. It floated into Lin Mo's hand.
Deprived of its energy core, the Lord of the Rotting Marsh's consciousness blurred and dissipated instantly. Its massive poison tumor body quickly shrank and solidified into a huge, pockmarked piece of strange rock.
Lin Mo weighed the "Ten-Thousand-Poison Core" in his hand, feeling the pure venomous energy within.
"High energy density, specialized attribute. Can be used for special material refining or biological toxin research. Classified as Grade A controlled resource; store in the warehouse."
He tucked the core away casually, then nodded to the "Reception Team" waiting in the distance—composed of naturalized demons from the former Rotting Marsh and core members from the Abandoned Land.
"Target eliminated. Proceed as planned: fully take over the Rotting Marsh, conduct environmental assessments and ecological restoration. Focus on developing characteristic poison breeding, biopharmaceuticals, and special material processing industries."
The demons of the reception team looked at the rock that had once been the Lord of the Rotting Marsh, then at the calm figure in green in the air, and bowed their heads in awe.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
When the news spread, the Lava Giant's territory fell into deathly panic. Even self-destruction was a luxury now? Then what use was the lava barrier they relied on?
On the map of the "Demonic Realm-Characteristic Economic Development Community," another vast region was dyed the same color.
Lin Mo returned to the command center, looked at the newly updated map, his gaze passing over the trembling lava river system, and toward the deeper, more obscure regions of the Demonic Realm where energy reactions were faint.
"The initial integration of basic means of production is completed. Next, we need to consider industrial upgrading and core technological breakthroughs."