Welcome to Building World Peace!
You're in for a ride.
Quick disclaimer before we start:
I'm… not like most authors here.
Beautiful, poetic prose?
❌ Not me.
Misery porn where everyone suffers beautifully for 300 chapters?
❌ My god. Are they okay?
Perfectly tracked stat progression with spreadsheets and charts?
❌ Way too lazy for that.
But what I can promise you is this: ENTERTAINMENT.
If we share the same deranged wavelength, I'll make you laugh, giggle, or at least smirk at your screen like an idiot. And maybe—just maybe—I'll give you something that makes you smile today.
Let's be honest.
The world out there is already depressing enough.
(And no, I'm not talking about me. Probably)
So anyway, welcome to this novel.
Explosions. Absurdity. Dark comedy. Satire. Parody.
And a completely irresponsible approach to "world peace."
Hope you enjoy this rocky, explosive, ridiculous ride.
Muahahaha.
---
---
White.
Everything was white and glowing. Endless white, softly luminous, with a thin mist drifting lazily in every direction. No walls. No floor. No ceiling. Just white.
That was the first thing the man noticed.
The second thing was that he was standing.
The third thing was the creeping, uncomfortable thought that this place felt suspiciously like either heaven… or an Apple store.
Given that he was an Android user, the first option seemed more likely.
"Shit…" he muttered. "Did I actually die?"
He tried to recall his life.
Nothing particularly impressive came to mind.
He wasn't a criminal. That was something. But he definitely wasn't saint material either. Just a millennial who spent most of his thirty-four years staring at a screen—occasionally pausing to eat, shit, work, and sleep.
Then again, he had probably done the first three while still staring at a screen.
His last memory surfaced.
Japan.
A holiday in Japan, no less. An achievement, considering his very average income as a freelance online journalist. He wasn't an otaku, but he did consume an unhealthy amount of Japanese media, so the trip had genuinely been enjoyable.
It was supposed to be five days.
But on day three…
He remembered the moment clearly.
A crossroad.
A cat crossing the street.
A truck approaching fast.
He'd immediately recognized the setup. Anyone who spent enough time online would.
His mind, trained by years of overthinking, presented two options.
Option one: Save the cat. Get crushed horribly. High chance of death. Small chance of getting isekai'd. Or worse—survive and wake up in a Japanese hospital, uninsured, and bankrupt.
Option two: Do nothing. Let the cat die. Accept the guilt. Move on.
Statistically speaking, about 5.4 million cats died every year in the U.S. from traffic accidents alone.
Realistically, he chose Option Two.
He was more of a dog person anyway.
He took a few steps back and stood beside one of those iconic Japanese red mailboxes, content to be a bystander in his own life.
Unfortunately, the truck driver—someone who had passed Japan's notoriously brutal driving test, unlike the one in manga and anime—realized he wouldn't be able to brake in time.
Thinking quickly, the driver swerved.
Toward the mailbox.
Being sued by a Japanese pet owner, after all, was far more expensive.
"Eh?"
The man and the driver locked eyes for one surreal fraction of a second.
Then—
---
"THAT FUCKING TRUCK-KUN!!"
The man's scream echoed violently through the glowing void as reality finally caught up with him.
So.
He was dead.
"…Oh, you poor hero… beset by confusion."
A sweet, beautiful voice spoke.
He spun around.
Descending from above was a glowing figure wrapped in divine light—radiant, elegant, and dressed in what could only be described as the primary reason many men attended cosplay conventions.
The light slowly faded.
His jaw dropped.
She was gorgeous.
Unreasonably gorgeous.
The kind of gorgeous that once convinced a Japanese man to legally marry a 2D character—except this time, she was very much 3D.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
This isekai shit is actually real?!
His mind screamed internally as the poster girl for every isekai story stood before him.
With theatrical timing, the goddess slowly opened her eyes.
"I welcome thee to the Goddess Realm, oh my fated and divine he—ro?"
She stopped.
Her smile froze.
Her eyes scanned him.
A man in his thirties. Mild beer belly. Receding hairline. Not ugly. Not handsome. Just… average. Painfully average. The kind of average that could be improved with effort—effort that required money.
And his appearance clearly reflected his wallet.
"O Hero," she continued, forcibly restoring her divine smile and tone. "I am the goddess Celes. Pray, tell me thy name, oh fated hero."
"Uh… my name is Alex Solomon," he said. "But I prefer Solo. There are already too many Alex..."
Her eyebrow twitched.
With a flick of her finger, a female angel secretary popped into existence. The goddess immediately grabbed the angel and dragged her close, whispering furiously.
Solo watched the scene in silence, mentally noting how wildly unprofessional and out-of-character this divine protocol appeared to be.
A moment later, the angel vanished again.
"Apologies for the intrusion," the goddess said, clearing her throat. "Ahem… O Alex Solomon. As thou may already surmise, thy previous life has regretfully ended. Yet the universe, in its mysterious way, bla bla bla…"
As the goddess continued her speech, Solo realized something.
This was normally the part where he'd mash the skip button as fast as humanly possible.
But… damn.
Seeing the goddess in person hit differently.
So for once, he didn't mind letting the tutorial run a little longer.
With another elegant motion, the goddess waved her hand.
A door-shaped portal appeared in midair. At its peak, a massive crystal rotated slowly, glowing brighter with every turn. The space within the frame shimmered, then resolved into the image of a blue-green planet.
It was definitely not Earth.
"And this," the goddess said proudly, "is Planet Talvaris. A fair and beautiful world, where bla bla bla magic, dragons, elves, bla bla bla—yet beset by the Demon King, bla bla bla bla. Thus I have chosen thee, O fated Hero, to save Talvaris and its people from certain doom."
Solo stared at the planet.
The continents looked… familiar in the worst way. Jagged coastlines. Random inland seas. Shapes that suggested someone had clicked "generate" a few too many times.
"And I guess that's the demon realm?" Solo asked, pointing at a small southern continent perpetually wrapped in dark thunderclouds.
"Correct, O wise hero…"
Solo exhaled slowly.
His past life flickered through his mind—his family, his friends, his job. It had been simple. Uneventful. But not bad. If this new world offered him a purpose, maybe starting over wouldn't be so terrible.
The goddess clasped her hands together.
A ray of light descended toward him.
"And now, O Hero," she declared, "I bestow upon thee three gifts."
"The first gift is from the universe itself, also known as the System. A unique skill, shaped by thy previous life."
A glowing panel materialized before Solo's eyes.
His heart started pounding.
An attack skill?
Overpowered stats?
Time stop?
Anything but that rewind-when-you-die skill. That anime was depressing as hell. Please, God. No.
The panel finished loading.
Solo stared.
His expression twisted into something between confusion and betrayal.
The goddess noticed immediately.
"O Hero," she asked cautiously, "what ability hast thou received from the System?"
"It's… it's a…" Solo squinted harder. "…Is this Google?"
Floating in front of him was a familiar sight.
A plain Google homepage.
White background.
Colorful logo.
A single search bar.
Not even dark mode.
"T-the description said… the ability to access Earth networks…" Solo stared at the floating search bar in horror. "Oh fuck no. No. No. This is just like that bringing your smartphone bullshit! What am I supposed to do—use G-Maps to escape a dungeon and leave a one-star review?"
"W-worry not, O Hero," the goddess said, her smile twitching dangerously. "Two more goddess-given gifts remain for thee to receive."
For the first time since his arrival, doubt crept into her divine heart.
Had this… been a mistake?
Still, she straightened her posture, inhaled slowly, and restored what passed for professionalism. With another elegant motion of her hand—
RPG-style icons burst into existence.
Swords.
Shields.
Staves.
Skill symbols glowing with promise.
"Now, Hero," she said, forcing her voice back into ceremonial cadence, "choose two skills thou believest will suit thee for—"
The angel secretary suddenly popped back into existence.
She leaned in, whispering urgently.
The goddess froze.
Then she exploded.
"I FUCKING KNEW IT!!"
She flung her arm violently. The icons vanished as if swatted out of reality. The air trembled, raw magic rippling outward as she stomped toward Solo, divine fury rolling off her like heat.
"You!" she snarled. "Mortal! Answer me this—are you Japanese?"
Solo blinked. "Uhh… no? I was just on vacation in Japan. Why?"
"FUUUUUUUCK!"
She kicked over a floating altar, shattering it into glowing fragments and fully abandoning all pretense of divinity. The angel rushed in, panic-stricken.
"B-but, dear Goddess," the angel pleaded, "you said you wanted something different this time. Not the usual hero archetype—"
"YES!" the goddess screamed. "But not to the point of ignoring the Japanese teenager part! They are naïve! Vanilla! Virg—well, at least those chunis obey the fantasy trope rules! My fucking rules!"
She pointed at Solo.
"But this!? This is a full-grown pig with thirty years of porn history!"
"Okay, rude—"
"Silence, you fucking pig."
A beam of scorching divine light slammed into Solo, blasting him off his feet. He crashed hard against the glowing floor. Blood sprayed as a smoking hole tore through his shoulder.
"OW! WHAT THE FUCK, BITCH!?"
"You dare call me a bitch!?"
Another beam struck him square in the chest, engulfing him in smoke.
When the smoke cleared—
Something was wrong.
He felt wrong.
Bigger.
Heavier.
And… green.
"…oink?"
He looked down.
Reflected faintly on the glowing floor was a hulking, green-skinned body.
An orc.
He had been turned into a fucking orc.
"Oink oink—oi—FUCK!"
The goddess burst into laughter.
"Heheh, relax, pig," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "You barely look any different."
She snickered.
Solo charged.
Rage surged through his newly green veins as he rushed straight at the goddess. His fist slammed forward—
And hit nothing.
A shimmering magical shield flared into existence, stopping him cold. He struck it again and again, but only faint ripples spread across the barrier, barely acknowledging his effort.
"D-dear Goddess," the angel stammered nervously, "you shouldn't waste your power like that…"
"It doesn't matter!" the goddess snapped. "We're still in the Goddess Realm. It costs almost nothing here."
She spun toward the angel, eyes blazing.
"Now hurry—find me a new hero! And execute the operator who picked this pig!"
"R-right away, goddess! But… what should we do with the current—uh—pig?"
"Just erase him," Celes said flatly. "I'd rather spend what divine energy I have left on a proper hero."
Solo's eyes widened.
Erase.
His survival instincts kicked in immediately. He glanced around. Endless white nothingness stretched in every direction—no walls, no exits, no hiding places.
Except one.
The massive portal.
The choice was easy.
He bolted.
"G-goddess! He's—!"
"NO!"
Celes summoned more angels, but Solo was already diving headfirst toward the portal. The giant crystal at its peak spun wildly as the entire structure began to shake violently.
"YOU FUCKING PIG!! MY PORTAL!! NOOO!"
Solo felt himself lifted, dragged forward by a beam of light pulling him toward Talvaris. Behind him, the goddess's hysterical shrieking echoed through the realm.
He didn't know exactly what he had done.
But making the goddess furious was clearly his newfound talent in the afterlife.
Mid-flight, he twisted his body, faced the shrinking portal, and proudly raised his middle finger.
"I WILL KILL YOU, YOU STUPID, FILTHY PIG! I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!"
Back in the Goddess Realm, the angel frantically tapped at multiple floating, computer-like panels.
"G-Goddess! Portal energy will deplete in eighty seconds! We still have a connection—we can still erase him!"
Celes's snarl slowly melted into a wicked grin.
She raised her hand to issue the kill order—
Then paused.
Her grin widened further.
"No…" she murmured. "I don't want to make it that easy. I have a better idea."
She tapped her temple. "We still have enough divine energy to grant him the final two Goddess Gifts, yes? Listen closely."
"For the first gift—make him unable to level up."
"…Done!"
"And the second—make him unable to die unless he's killed by a Hero Weapon."
"…Done."
"Good. Also, change his summoning coordinates to the Demon Territory."
"Updating… complete."
"Portal energy depleting in three… two… one…"
The crystals slowed to a halt. The portal dimmed. The light vanished. Silence filled the realm.
"We've lost connection to Talvaris, goddess," the angel reported softly. "May I ask… what is your plan?"
Celes chuckled darkly.
"Fufufu… it's simple. By making him a weak orc who can't level up, he'll be helpless in the demon territory. And since he can't die unless struck by a Hero Weapon, demons will use him as an infinite food source."
She laughed.
"Again and again. Hahaha!"
"What magnificent genius, O Goddess! So that is why you sent him to the Demon Territory!"
"Well, that—and because I don't want him wandering into elf territory and finding a Hero Weapon to kill himself with." She waved dismissively. "Now—give me the recalculations. When can I activate the portal again?"
"One moment… calculating…"
The angel hesitated.
"You will have enough divine energy to reopen the portal in approximately… one hundred and thirty years."
Celes froze.
"…Wha—WHY? Why so fucking long?!"
"G-goddess," the angel explained carefully, "since we did not disable the Divine Barrier over the Demon Kingdom this time, there will be no demon invasion. And without world-scale war, divine power replenishes very slowly."
"Oh dear me…" Celes muttered. "What a blunder…"
She clicked her tongue, then exhaled sharply.
"Fine. At least I know that pig will suffer far longer than I planned."
Her eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with venom.
"Alex Solomon… no one calls me a bitch and gets away with it. Enjoy your one hundred and thirty years of suffering."
"In the end, you will beg me to end your pathetic life."
---
130 Years Later
Malvorath Continent, 1312 EC
Ravendawn Kingdom
King Luxtor stood on the balcony of his castle, gazing down at what his generals insisted on calling war preparations.
Troops moved below in loose, uncoordinated clusters. Orders were shouted, ignored, repeated, misunderstood. There was no urgency in their movements—only routine, like actors rehearsing a play everyone already knew would end badly.
There was no fire left in the king's eyes.
Once, Ravendawn had been respected. Its army was battle-seasoned, disciplined, feared. When demon invasions came, Ravendawn was the shield. The first line of defense. The rest of Talvaris would pour resources into the kingdom—weapons, food, gold, reinforcements—anything to keep the demon army away.
Then, one hundred and thirty years ago, the Divine Barrier held.
For the first time.
It happened during the reign of Luxtor's great-grandfather. A miracle, the church declared.
And the world changed.
The invasion never came.
Not once.
The oracles proclaimed it proof that the people's prayers had strengthened the goddess. The faithful celebrated. Bells rang across the continent.
Then the bills came due.
Kingdoms had drained their coffers preparing for a war that never arrived. To recover, they turned on each other. Ravendawn was one of the casualties—dismantled piece by piece, stripped of territory and influence until only the unwanted southern lands remained.
They were allowed to rule it.
As vassals of the Vandoria Kingdom.
"Father, I'm leaving now."
Luxtor turned.
"Please, my son," he said quietly. "Reconsider. You don't need to be on the front line."
Prince Luxius stood tall despite his worn armor. "I do. If no one from the royal family is present, the Vandorian won't acknowledge anything we accomplish."
"Accomplish what?!" Luxtor snapped, gesturing toward the camp below. "Look at them! These 'reinforcements' are slaves in rusted gear and low-rank nobles who don't know a damn thing about command!"
Luxius smiled faintly.
"Vandoria has promised to end our vassal status if we help stop the Demon Army," he said. "This is our chance. Maybe the Goddess will bless us again. Maybe there won't be an invasion at all."
He bowed.
"Goodbye, Father. May I return with victory."
Luxtor watched his son walk away, his vision blurring.
"Oh Goddess…" he whispered. "I've cursed you so many times. But please… please bring my son home."
---
Solis Continent
Divine Empire of Celeste
Celestial Palace – Main Hall
Far from the Demon Kingdom's border, the Celestial Palace's main hall shimmered as a massive magic circle activated.
At its center stood a young priestess.
Isabel.
Her voice, impossibly pure and saintly, echoed through the hall as she completed the summoning chant. Behind her, officials waited in rigid silence, hands clasped, expressions tense.
Light erupted outward, blinding and theatrical.
Several nobles raised their arms to shield their eyes. When the brilliance finally faded, a young man stood at the center of the circle.
Black hair.
Modern clothes.
The only person in the room who didn't look like he belonged there.
Attractive, too—though he carried himself like someone entirely unaware of it.
A textbook isekai protagonist.
"W-where am I?" he asked.
Hell yeah. Isekai time! he thought.
"O Hero from another world," Isabel said quickly, ensuring she was the first face he saw. "Welcome to the Divine Empire of Celeste."
"I've never heard of that country before," he replied.
Yay. Cute saintess, he thought.
The emperor stepped forward.
"O Hero, I am King Gregory," he said solemnly. "I welcome you to my humble castle. Please, tell me your name."
"I'm Nobuyuki Sora," the young man replied. "A high schooler from Japan."
"I am deeply sorry for taking you from your world, Nobuyuki Sora," Gregory said. "But our world is in great peril. At this very moment, in the far south, the united army of humanity prepares to face the dreaded Demon Army invasion."
He paused.
"Yet… few of us believe the army will fare well."
"…Myself included."
---
Great Demon Gate
For something officially titled the Army of Humanity, there were remarkably few humans in it.
Most of the soldiers filling the ranks were beastmen of various races—furred, feathered, horned—armed with equipment that looked like it had already survived at least two previous wars and lost both. Rust dulled blades. Leather straps cracked. Armor creaked in ways armor really shouldn't.
At the rear of the formation, Crown Prince Luxius of the Ravendawn Kingdom surveyed the army with the expression of a man doing mental math he already knew the answer to.
On parchment, the formation was supposed to be:
3000 Foot Soldiers800 Archers150 Magicians400 Cavalry80 Wyvern Riders120 Avian Warriors35 Ballista
On the field, reality was… flexible.
A messenger sprinted up to Luxius, saluted sharply, then immediately started talking too fast.
"Sir! All of the mercenaries have disappeared! They most likely ran away during the long march!"
Luxius pinched the bridge of his nose. "Those gold-grubbing cowards. And the Vandoria Army? Where are they?"
The messenger hesitated.
"Uhh… they are technically present, sir."
"Technically."
"Yes. Their envoy says their regular army is currently occupied by an unforeseen event. So instead, they sent their brave militia who volunteered for the war."
Luxius followed the messenger's nervous pointing.
Off to the side of the formation stood a loosely gathered cluster of peasants. They trembled openly, gripping pitchforks, shovels, farm scythes, and one particularly confused man holding what appeared to be a frying pan.
"…Those are villagers," Luxius said flatly.
"Yes, sir."
"Rounded up for war."
"…Yes, sir."
Luxius exhaled slowly.
And thus, the Army of Humanity was updated accordingly:
3000 2200 Foot Soldiers800 500 Archers150 Magicians400 250 Cavalry80 60 Wyvern Riders120 Avian Warriors35 Ballista+300 Peasant Militia
No one announced the revision aloud. Everyone simply pretended this had always been the plan.
---
The border of the Demon Kingdom was unmistakable.
The Malvorath Mountain Range loomed ahead, a jagged wall of stone slicing the continent in two like a scar that never healed. At its center stood the entrance to Demon Territory itself—the Great Demon Gate.
It was colossal. Ancient. Covered in demonic sculptures twisted into snarls and screaming faces.
Anyone from a modern Earth might have thought of Gate of Mordor.
Everyone present thought of death.
As the army stared at the gate, prayers spread through the ranks like wildfire. Quiet murmurs. Desperate bargains. Last-minute confessions to a goddess who had been very quiet for a very long time.
No one wanted the gate to open.
"LOOK UP THERE!"
A shout broke the tension.
High above, a bright blue sphere formed in the sky, humming with divine energy as it descended.
Hope surged.
Then the sphere slammed directly into the Divine Barrier.
The invisible wall rippled once—then shattered.
"The barrier…" someone whispered. "It's collapsing."
Fragments of light dissolved into the air like dying embers. When the last trace vanished, the army's gaze returned to the Great Demon Gate.
Silence.
Then—
VOOOOOOOOOMMMMM
An otherworldly trumpet blast thundered from behind the gate, vibrating through bone and soul alike. A heavy clunk followed as ancient mechanisms engaged.
The gate began to move.
The massive doors split apart, grinding outward with the sound of stone screaming against stone. Dust clouds erupted where metal scraped the ground, billowing forward and swallowing the battlefield in gray haze.
That was when discipline finally snapped.
Soldiers—especially the Peasant Militia—broke formation and ran. Weapons were dropped. Shouts turned into screams.
Luxius watched them flee without reaction.
He turned instead to the soldiers who remained.
"Everyone!" he shouted. "Ready your weapons!"
Those who stayed tightened their grips. Bows were raised. Spell circles flickered to life with unsteady hands.
Sweat poured freely.
The gate was fully open now, though the dust obscured whatever lay beyond.
Then—
HRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMM
BATA-BATA-BATA-BATA-BATA
Sounds poured out of the gate—alien, mechanical, rhythmic.
Silhouettes emerged through the haze.
They grew larger.
Closer.
More numerous.
---
Divine Empire of Celeste
Celestial Palace, Main Hall
A messenger burst into the hall, breathless.
"Your Highness! A report from the Army of Humanity via mana-comm!"
"Speak," Emperor Gregory ordered.
"The Divine Barrier has fallen. The Great Demon Gate is opening."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"The Demon Army is advancing," the messenger continued, voice shaking. "They are accompanied by massive, hellish monsters and contraptions never before recorded. Hundreds of demonfolk wear identical uniforms and wield strange demonic staffs. Dozens of hell chariots and demon elephants march alongside them, each mounted by demon riders. In the sky, several hell dragonflies hover in formation."
Isabel shivered.
"Demon elephants? Hell… dragonflies? There are no records of such creatures. Is the Demon King summoning new species from hell?"
The messenger swallowed hard.
"A-and the one leading the Demon Army is one of the Demon Dukes himself… L-Leviathan."
The name detonated through the room.
Panic. Whispers. Faces drained of color.
Sora stared at the reactions, unease settling into his gut.
Did I get isekai'd into hard mode? he thought.
"And finally," the messenger said, "this is Leviathan's message."
---
Great Demon Gate
A figure stepped calmly out of the dust.
Tall. Well-groomed. Wearing sleek modern businessman suit and glasses.
Unarmed.
But behind him marched a company of demonfolk infantry, each holding an M4A1 rifle with practiced ease. Dozens of Humvees rolled forward, their mounted .50 caliber M2 Browning machine guns glinting in the light. A platoon of M1 Abrams tanks rumbled behind them.
Above, four AH-64 Apaches hovered steadily.
The man cleared his throat.
"Heed my words! Heed my words!" his voice carried effortlessly across the field.
"My name is Leviathan, and I am here to deliver the message of the Demon Kingdom!"
He spread his arms.
"People of Talvaris," he said calmly,
"We come in peace."