After placing an order for blades with Nimaiya and requesting iron nails, plates, mortars, and cauldrons from the other blacksmiths, I delivered all the supplies to Hell before returning to the hut.
It had been four weeks. Roughly a month had passed.
If you're wondering why I returned to the hut instead of staying in Hell for the past month...
It's because if I'm not here, there's no one to deliver the swords Nimaiya finishes.
It's definitely not because I'm afraid Kagaya will catch me and dump a mountain of chores on my head the moment I step foot in Hell. That is absolutely not why I'm hunkering down here.
I'ing telling you, it's not. F*ck off. Leave me alone.
"I'm back."
"Ouh!"
"I'm sleeping."
"Ouh!"
Clang! Clang!
The rhythmic metallic ringing struck my eardrums repeatedly, but it couldn't interfere with my sweet slumber. The sound of Nimaiya pounding steel and the blistering heat radiating from the forge were nothing to me.
Sure, it was a bit annoying, but compared to the agonizing screams of sinners and the suffocating heat of boiling magma, this was child's play. It was practically background noise.
And so, I drifted off to the steady tempo of the hammer, using it as a lullaby. My first sleep in fifty years... God, it felt f*cking amazing.
Even though there was no bed or pillow, and nothing but a cold wall to lean my head against, it was enough. I was grateful for every second of it.
Just as I was slipping into that blissful state of semi-consciousness with a satisfied smile, Nimaiya's voice jolted me awake.
"One blade complete-ou!"
Now... how many was that? About thirty-four?
Ever since I gave him the title 'God of the Sword,' his processing speed has reached a level that defies common sense.
What's even more surprising is the quality. Every time I inspect a blade, I'm genuinely impressed. If I'd known he'd be this efficient, I shouldn't have called him the God of the Sword. I should've gone with something like the God of Metallurgy or the God of the Forge.
Maybe then he'd be pumping out three blades a day.
"Yaaaawn... Smack. Damn, you're fast. Hand it over."
With a bizarre kiai of "Tou!", he tossed the katana. I caught it mid-air and threw it straight into the Hell of Blades.
Far below, the sound of steel piercing flesh echoed through the dimensional rift—thwack—followed by a pained scream. Some unlucky sinner had just been skewered by a fresh delivery.
"They're sounding lively today too, hey-o!!"
"They can't hear you anyway. It's total Pandemonium down there."
"Hahat! It is Hell, after all! It fits the vibe-ou!"
Perhaps because we'd spent nearly a month together, we'd reached the point of exchanging trivial banter. Of course, considering the topics of our jokes were usually Hell, sinners, and agonizing screams...
Both he and I are definitely a few screws loose.
...Well, it's a bit late to be surprised by that. I let out a dry chuckle, leaned my head back against the wall, and closed my eyes again.
[Master.]
Ugh, f*ck. Seriously? Do I have to see your face in my dreams now too? I'm sick of it. I wanted you to achieve enlightenment and be happy, but I didn't intend for you to become a brat who exploits your master.
[Master. Can you hear my voice?]
Who do you think you are, the Fire Keeper from Dark Souls? What now...
I dug my pinky into my ear and cracked one eye open.
"What is it..."
[I believe you need to come to Hell for a moment.]
Holy sh*t, he really was talking to me.
I blinked in surprise for a second, but then the realization that something else had gone wrong hit me. My motivation evaporated instantly.
"Aaargh... Ahh! I don't want to work!!"
"Hahaha! If you can't avoid it, enjoy it, Big Brother! Besides, you've been sleeping this whole time, what's with the sudden 'hard work' complaints!?"
"Something happened in Hell, I have to go check it out. Just stack the blades next to me as you finish them. I'll be back soon to pick them up."
"Ouh! Understood-ou!"
"I told you to stop dragging out your sentences like that. Either do it right or don't do it at all."
"Eh? What's wrong with my speech!? It adds rhythm-ou!"
What rhythm? Who does he think he is, Michael Jackson? Actually, if I look at him for 0.1 seconds, he does kind of look like Michael Jackson... but since Nimaiya was born first in this world, I guess Michael Jackson is a 0.1-second Nimaiya.
"Anyway, I'll handle the mess in Hell and then we'll talk. I'll teach you some proper English then."
"English?"
"Don't worry about it. I'm going. Keep it up."
Leaving him with those brief instructions, I tore through the boundaries and returned to Hell.
The Hell I returned to looked surprisingly normal at first glance.
Even though the Hell of Blades and the Hell of the Forest of Swords were incomplete, the sinners were still receiving punishments based on their crimes, and the first four of the Ten Kings were doing their jobs well.
This was all achieved in just one month. Their efficiency was commendable, but...
A 'rush-it-out' mentality always breeds unforeseen problems.
Just like what I was seeing right now.
"What the f*ck is this?"
Sinners were killing other sinners. Is it fratricide? No, it wasn't that. These bastards were 'punishing' other sinners with their own hands.
A sinner punishing another sinner? What the hell kind of logic is that?
If they were trying to be some kind of Dark Hero, I wouldn't even be complaining.
These guys were beating other sinners to death while sincerely believing that doing so would somehow reduce their own negative karma. This is just... seriously.
"Hey, Kagaya. Where are you?"
[I have been beside you since you arrived.]
"Explain this. What exactly is going on?"
[It is a manpower shortage.]
Kagaya's answer was somewhat expected. I had to work literally all day without sleep just to keep the executions going, so there was no way these people—who didn't have even a fraction of my physical power—could maintain that grueling schedule.
And this was the result.
Hell had morphed into a bizarre state where the sinners themselves acted as the punishers.
"Haaa..."
I should have resolved this first. After telling everyone not to work by 'winging it,' I ended up being the one winging it the most.
Regret always comes too late, and right now, all I could do was sigh. Sure, if I had prepared in advance... would it have happened? Probably.
Thinking about it made my blood boil. I've been working like a dog for fifty years without even sleeping, unable to prepare anything because I was drowning in labor, so why the f*ck is this my problem to solve now?
...It is my problem, but it's still infuriating. I feel so incredibly shafted right now.
"Haaaa... fine. What can I do? We *are* short-handed."
My anger flared up like a boiling pot of noodles and then simmered down just as quickly. I had to stay calm. The fifty years of fatigue hadn't fully drained yet, making me more irritable than usual.
I couldn't exactly kill the morale of the people working hard just because I was annoyed. Of course, by 'working hard,' I don't mean these bastards over here pulling other sinners by their hair and whipping them.
Those guys should be on the receiving end too. They aren't 'working'; they're committing a dereliction of duty.
"Explain those guys first. You must have had criteria for choosing them."
[They were selected as Hell Wardens through an extremely rigorous screening of 'model sinners.' First, the weight of their sins was measured, and then those who feel guilt and pain—not pleasure—when harming others were recruited... or so I was told.]
Kagaya, as he spoke, made a sour face for the first time since he'd descended to Hell. Seeing a man who had shed all five desires and seven emotions—one who had reached enlightenment—make a face like that...
It told me exactly how sh*tty things were going. I gave a small smirk and tapped Kagaya on the shoulder with the back of my hand.
"Hey, even you think this is ridiculous, right?"
[Using evil to fight evil... It is nothing more than self-cannibalization.]
"There's that, but if we leave them like this, it'll be a disaster."
No matter how extreme a stimulus is, if it's repeated, it becomes a routine. And once a stimulus becomes mundane, humans look for even greater stimulation. That is the nature of the human brain.
"Eventually, there will be those who torment their victims far more than the sentence dictates. If they're a different gender... well, you can imagine the rest."
There's an old saying: if you run, you want to walk; if you walk, you want to stop; if you stop, you want to sit; and eventually, you want to lie down. That's the human heart.
The thing we have to fear here is 'routinization.'
Take the slaughtering industry, for example. Specifically the 'slaughter' part, not the processing. At first, the stench of blood is so nauseating you can't even go near the facility. But once you get a little used to it, you can step inside.
However, the moment you witness what's inside... well, I'll leave that to your imagination.
In any case, once even those horrific sights become part of the daily routine, they are no longer viewed as 'stimuli.' It just becomes a boring daily routine.
"There will definitely be those dissatisfied with the current situation, and if this pain becomes a routine, they'll eventually band together, form hierarchies, and generally act like a bunch of f*ck-ups."
I didn't create the Ten Kings' Hell just to watch that sh*tshow happen. Those who deserve punishment should receive the punishment they deserve, while simultaneously shedding their karma. That was the purpose I intended when I designed this system.
But look at this mess.
"Gwaaaah!! Why?! Why just you?! Why just youuuu!!"
"Die! Die!! Just f*cking die!!"
Those who should be suffering and writhing in guilt were instead screaming in malice, cursing and resenting the sinner-wardens, drifting further away from salvation. Meanwhile, the wardens were accumulating even more negative karma by beating other sinners to death, rather than atoning for their own.
"It's a vicious cycle..."
In the end, managing sinners must be done by flawless beings. Flawless yet indifferent entities that aren't swayed by the appearance or words of a sinner.
"How many trials have been completed so far?"
[The trials for those already in Hell are finished. That is why the four of them are currently meeting to devise a countermeasure.]
"Guess I need to go where they are first."
[Do you have a good plan?]
"I have one thing in mind."
The Kushanada.
Maybe not quite as ridiculously massive as the ones in the stories—I'll keep them more compact.
Though, the ones who'll be doing the actual work of creating them are those four, not me.
========================
The website for reading paid chapters is available on my Patreon. The number of chapters on Patreon: 88
Link: patreon.com/UltraMagnus_T