The night in Iron Fortress was now brighter than the day.
Rows of stones known as the "Light of Evernight" were neatly installed atop stone pillars lining the streets. They emitted a soft, steady radiance that rendered every alley and thoroughfare clearly visible, casting long, peaceful shadows against the masonry.
Kaito strolled down the main avenue without a single guard in tow. He could feel it—faint but inexhaustible ripples of power converging from every corner of the city, eventually flowing into his Soul Fire.
Faith.
Pure, unadulterated power generated by belief.
Ever since he had issued the decree requiring a daily prayer from every Citizen and Resident, the rate of accumulation for this energy had ascended to an entirely new tier. He was satisfied.
He passed a young girl in clean linen clothes leaning over a windowsill. Under the glow of a streetlamp, she was intently reading a picture book. Her mother sat nearby, busy with needlework, a gentle smile touching her face. Further down, several Dwarven craftsn, finished with their day's labor at the foundry, erged from a tavern arm-in-arm. They humd discordant folk tunes from their holand, wobbling slightly but looking utterly content.
A skeletal patrol marched past them in perfect synchronization. The two groups passed each other with the casual indifference of people who had grown used to the new status quo.
Order. Stability. Prosperity.
Everything was unfolding exactly as he had envisioned.
But...
Kaito stopped, surveying the harmonious night scene. Sothing was missing.
People finished their work, ate their dinner, perford their mandatory prayer, and then what? They slept. They woke up. They worked again.
This life is... incredibly boring, Kaito thought.
As a modern soul who had been raised in a world saturated with subculture and entertainnt, Kaito found the lack of "fun" intolerable. His subjects couldn't live like worker ants who only knew productivity. They needed a distraction. They needed a "vice."
Theater? Troubadours?
Kaito shook his head. Theater required venues and specialized actors; the coverage was too limited. As for bards, they were currently busy singing epics about his greatness across the continent. It was nice for the first week, but even he was getting sick of hearing about "The Benevolent King of Bone."
It had to be sothing low-cost, easily replicable, wide-reaching, and—most importantly—addictive.
A spark of inspiration struck his mind.
Novels!
Yes, webnovels! This world had books and printing technology. Though primitive, the foundation was there. If he solved the content problem, he could trigger a brand-new era of entertainnt!
His mind made up, Kaito turned and headed toward his residence. He needed a tool who could execute this plan with chanical perfection.
Greed's Office.
Greed was currently buried behind a literal fortress of paperwork. Three different quills were laid out on his desk. He was using both hands to simultaneously process two different docunts at different speeds.
One was a reform proposal for the vassal state taxation system.
The other was the selection criteria for the next wave of Imperial Civil Servants.
Suddenly, the air before him rippled with a slight distortion. Greed's hands went still. He stood up and bowed to the empty space.
"Master."
Kaito stepped out of the shadows. He gave a casual wave of his bony hand, signaling for Greed to dispense with the formalities. He scanned the stacks of parchnt that nearly reached the ceiling.
"Busy lately?"
Greed answered without a heartbeat of hesitation. "Reporting to the Master: everything is within paraters."
Kaito walked to the wall where a massive map of the continent hung. "Greed, I have a new assignnt for you."
Greed snapped to attention. "I await your instructions."
"I intend to promote a new form of entertainnt within the Empire. My subjects require a richer spiritual life to supplent their work and prayer."
Greed blinked, appearing genuinely puzzled. "Entertainnt?"
"Please enlighten , My Lord. Who is the target demographic for this initiative? What are the projected social trics? Do you require a cost-benefit analysis and a three-year ROI projection?"
As Greed spoke, Kaito felt his phantom temples begin to throb. "Stop. Just... stop."
"Don't try to apply your MBA business models to this. The 'entertainnt' I'm talking about is pure, unadulterated... fun."
Kaito rubbed his jaw, searching for the right term. "For example... reading storybooks."
"Storybooks?" Greed thought back to the few texts he had seen. "Do you refer to the illustrated prirs for toddlers? To my knowledge, their pedagogical value far outweighs their entertainnt index."
"No, I an stories for adults."
Kaito decided to explain it in a way Greed's bureaucratic brain could grasp. "I intend to establish a brand-new departnt: The Imperial Ministry of Literature."
"Its duty will be to solicit high-quality narratives from across the Empire. We shall print these stories in bulk and sell them to every Citizen at a minimal cost. These stories must be gripping. Addictive. They must allow the reader to forget the fatigue of the day and sink into another world."
"I see..." Greed murmured. "The Master intends to provide 'Spiritual Commodities' to boost the populace's Happiness Index. This will indirectly increase labor motivation and further solidify the Empire's cultural hegemony."
Kaito patted Greed's shoulder. "If you want to fra it that way, sure. Go with that."
"In any case, the task is yours. Issue a decree. Tell the world that the Evernight Empire requires their imagination. Regardless of birth or race, anyone who can pen an engaging story shall be rewarded handsoly by the Throne."
"By your command, My Lord."
"I shall draft the 'Evernight Imperial Literary Revitalization Charter' imdiately."
"Step one: Establish the Imperial Literary Review Board. It shall consist of five linguistic experts and three psychologists to determine narrative 'Retention Ratings.'"
"Step two: Initiate a one-month nation-wide open call for manuscripts. Entries will be graded across four dinsions: Plot Complexity, Character Magnetism, Value Alignnt, and rchandising Potential."
"Step three: Filter the top one hundred authors and sign them to Imperial Labor Contracts. We shall provide standardized creative training and issue a mandatory weekly quota of 30,000 words, with a million-word ceiling per volu. All intellectual property will belong to the Throne."
"Authors shall receive a base salary and a tiered commission based on sales volu. We shall also implent a 'Negative Feedback Elimination' chanism. Any author whose work remains in the bottom decile for three consecutive months shall have their contract terminated."
Greed finished his pitch in a single breath, looking at Kaito with a gaze that said: Is my plan not perfect?
Kaito had no words. He had asked for a renaissance; Greed had built him a literary sweatshop.
"Greed."
"I am here, Master."
"In your opinion... what constitutes a 'good' story?"
Greed didn't hesitate. "A good story is one that maximizes user paynt conversion, generates the highest volu of derivative rchandise, and creates the greatest asurable value for the Empire."
Kaito sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "Fine. Whatever. Start with your plan."
"However, before you begin your 'open call,' I'm going to set the standard myself."
"Setting the standard?"
Kaito didn't explain. He strode to Greed's gargantuan desk, swept a pile of tax reports onto the floor, and smoothed out a blank sheet of high-quality parchnt. He picked up a quill and dipped it in the inkwell.
Under Greed's bewildered gaze, Kaito began to write. Before the blood-sweat-shop factory opened its doors, he was going to teach the authors of this world a lesson by writing a true "Power Fantasy" (Narou-style) webnovel.
Kaito's quill paused for a heartbeat, then etched the title onto the page:
[Regarding the ti I was hit by a carriage and reincarnated into another world as the Demon King]
He nodded with satisfaction. Perfect. The flavor is spot on.
Then, he wrote the opening sentence:
"I, Sato... am just your average gar shut-in."
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