Of course, having a conversation with demons whose heads were completely different shapes was difficult. I wasn't even sure if they could hear me when I spoke, and they might communicate through gestures rather than language.

But with a good enough brain, this was an obstacle that could be overcome.

"The language system is exactly the same, just with different pronunciation. This makes it too simple. Let me try saying 'I'm extremely pleased to meet you, hello' to you, Abraham. Kyaak kak-kak kreuruk."

"......"

"But there are some sounds that human vocal structures can't produce. For this, let's make instruments using demon vocal cords. Like blowing hard through a straw to make sounds. Could you catch three demons of different types for me?"

"Indeed, you are the Creator."

I received an ambiguous compliment.

After that came meticulous repetitive work. I identified subtle power struggles and cleverly aggravated them to incite internal conflict.

I deliberately disguised the cause of death for some demon corpses and pressured the smarter, more composed demons until they were pushed out of their groups.

I also created noise pollution using vuvuzelas made from captured demons. Recording insults about their parents on auto-replay got quite the heated response.

The result was this:

"The realm divided into three. They've split into three factions fighting among themselves, so let's escape while we have the chance."

"The children walk slowly. And... some demons remain unaffected by your verbal manipulation. What shall we do about them?"

"Well, we'll have to fight them."

With more time, I could have engineered a full-scale war between the demons and let them destroy each other. But I needed to climb this tower quickly, and I had Abraham as my combat strength.

So I decided to make my move early.

Of course, I wasn't planning to rely solely on Abraham for all the fighting. Even without mana or magic, I had a way to help—guns.

Even a child can pull a trigger, right? With this, I could have considerable combat power.

I borrowed some firearms from Abraham's collection in the hideout. Two handguns and four magazines. Considering my weak physical specs, I avoided anything too heavy.

As I pulled the slide back with a click, Abraham asked:

"Do you know how to handle guns?"

"No."

I've never handled guns except during military service. Certainly never a handgun. But that wasn't going to be a problem.

I mentally replayed some YouTube videos about handling firearms and adjusted my stance. Now I got it.

"Now I know how. I just learned. Let's head to the 'Golden Gate.' I'll lead the children, and Abraham, you move separately on your bike like a special unit. We'll take Route A as I explained earlier."

"Yes, Creator. Leave the interfering demons to me."

"You can ignore the minor ones that can be handled with pistol rounds. I can cover up to six at once on this side."

With preparations complete and the plan set, it was time to move.

Vroooom!

Abraham departed first on his bike. I stuffed spare magazines into my leather belt and led the doll-like children in our escape.

"Follow me."

"......"

The children moved in a group.

They had no expressions and said nothing. But they quietly followed my commands. While this was natural for NPCs, I could sense their extreme obedience.

Our movement went smoothly.

The demons were busy fighting each other, so their numbers were thinned out, and Abraham was clearing the path ahead. We encountered at most one or two demons during our movement.

And that much was...

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Kyeaaaargh!"

"Kruk, kruk..."

The first shot was to zero in. The other two pierced right through the demon's forehead. Who am I? I'm the man who hits falling leaves with paper airplanes when bored. With my bio-aim hack, I couldn't miss.

Step. Step.

We walked across cracked asphalt roads in a collapsed, devastated city.

Occasionally, building windows displayed demons with their necks torn out, or curses suggesting horrible deaths. Quite a horrific presentation.

Abraham wouldn't have done this, so the intimidating interior design must be the demons' own work.

"...oppression and intimidation, huh."

I could guess their intention. I understood what the "Goat" from the past was thinking.

Test subjects must be thoroughly controlled. They should suffer enough to fulfill their purpose, but they shouldn't struggle to escape.

So they needed to plant deep in their minds the despair that "you cannot escape from here"—like an elephant with a chain around its neck.

That's why this stage was filled with demons and despair. It was designed to persistently crush any hope of escape.

The doll-like children who moved only as told—weren't they a hint of this? Since I don't know what actually happened, it remains speculation, but...

Anyway, people always want to do what they're told not to do.

"Just watch. I'm going to lead everyone out of here."

After renewing my determination and moving forward for about 30 minutes...

I saw Abraham waiting at the end of the road. Judging by the old man's not-so-bright expression, this wasn't a case of "I've taken care of all the demons and was waiting"...

"We have a problem, Creator. A chief demon wearing a goat mask is guarding the 'Golden Gate.'"

"Oh dear."

This bastard is causing trouble even in illusions.

===============================================================

Yes, I knew something would go wrong. That goat demon is based on the madman who liquefied his personality and carried it around in syringes.

He's the type to stay focused on his experiments regardless of the chaos and fighting around him. Unfortunately, the historical accuracy is spot on.

This means we'll have to break through.

I reloaded my gun and gave orders to the children.

"All of you, run to the 'Golden Gate.' Don't look back, just run. Escape."

"Creator, what about you?"

"I'll buy some time and then make a break for it. Abraham, you said you can't handle commander-class demons one-on-one, right? So I need to create an opening for you to escape."

"You're looking after this old man too?"

Of course.

Just as there's no parent who doesn't love their children, what creator doesn't love their creation? Especially when it's a stylish old man like Abraham with a prosthetic arm riding a motorcycle.

I hid behind a building corner and peeked out. I could see a large demon patrolling in front of the "Golden Gate." It had two pairs of wings and long claws that looked like they could easily tear a person apart.

Bang!

I fired my first shot. The casually fired bullet tore through the demon's left eye.

"Kiaaaaargh!"

Thump thump thump thump!

I could hear the demon approaching with heavy footsteps.

I'd drawn its aggro. Now I just needed to buy time until the children escaped, make sure Abraham got away too, and then reach the goal myself.

By my estimate, I had about 30 seconds before combat with the demon began. I took a deep breath and said something before the battle started.

"Abraham, let's not overdo it. You mean a lot to me too."

"...Creator, may I dare ask you one thing?"

There was a weight in his voice. I turned my head to meet the old man's gaze.

"......"

Abraham was looking at me with a hint of fear and trembling. Like a human standing before the deity they worship.

You know that story, right? If you died and met God, and God allowed you one question—what would you ask?

It seemed Abraham had such a question.

This was a man who appeared so rigid he would break rather than bend, who never lost himself even while inhabiting a deteriorating metal body—yet here he stood so precariously. What could he possibly want to ask?

"Of course. Ask anything."

I promised to answer. I felt it was my duty.

Abraham revealed his emotions with ten seconds of silence. Then, at the end of his hesitation, he asked:

"Did my daughter, Isaac, ever have a chance?"

"......"

Sub-villain Isaac, who was entranced by an evil star observed through a telescope, eventually went mad and sacrificed her father.

He seems to be asking if she could have been saved.

I answered honestly.

"Yes, she did."

"......"

There was a salvation route. It wasn't for Abraham's sake. It was prepared for players who wanted a perfect happy ending.

Although that session was disrupted when "it" intervened and the story was shaken, the salvation route wasn't completely destroyed.

The trigger would have been fulfilled by taking the mentally disabled Isaac to Abraham's burial site. She would have had a chance to correct her mistakes and, even if she couldn't resurrect him, she could have saved her father's soul from the evil god.

I wonder how this answer sounded to Abraham. I don't know. But I carefully prayed it would have a positive impact on him.

I hastily added:

"Don't blame the players. It's not that they didn't act. If there's any fault, it lies with me for not being more generous..."

"...No, Creator. No."

Have you ever seen misty rain?

The old man's tears resembled misty rain. Abraham put his hands together in prayer and smiled through tears. I couldn't tell exactly what he felt, but...

"That alone is enough. It's enough, Creator..."

After rain comes a rainbow. The determination shining like starlight from those deep-set eyes was bright enough that even a blind person could feel its radiance.

===============================================================

He had received an answer from the young Creator. An answer to the question he had been afraid to ask, postponing it until now.

And that answer was glorious.

There was a chance. There was happiness that the Creator had arranged. From that answer, Abraham could feel that God loved His creations. And that was enough.

Though he and his daughter had bodies made of data, were born with the fate of victim and villain, and died miserably after facing tragedy...

That did not mean eternal suffering and depression. Even they, made of parts, deserved to be loved.

It wasn't a life created just to die and become a villain. Salvation existed!

Abraham's determination to live as a human despite any hardship was finally completed with the Creator's generous acknowledgment.

It was also a promise.

Given the Creator's good-natured disposition, he would someday arrange for Abraham's daughter Isaac to be revived so they could meet and share joy.

Then what was there to fear?

Abraham gripped his shotgun. Though a powerful demon approached, the old man's heart was clear and without fear. He said to the Creator:

"The Creator gave chances to his creations, so who should give chances to the Creator?"

"...Abraham?"

"Go ahead with the children."

But didn't you say you would be defeated?

The young Creator's eyes filled with concern. Indeed, Abraham had never lied. If he fought a commander-class demon, Abraham would be defeated.

Then he would have to become something other than Abraham.

The old man recalled what Dr. Woo Chae-rin had told him:

-Thanks to your unique origin, you can wear this prosthetic arm... and modify your own information. But there are limits, of course. If the modification rate exceeds 50%, you'll find it difficult to maintain your self-awareness as "Abraham." You understand what that means, right?

So don't stray from the old man's form. Maintain the appearance of a sick, elderly man. Otherwise, you might no longer be yourself.

—No.

No.

With a series of clicks, the old man's body began to transform. His iron right arm grew in size, gradually replacing his body. Being consumed. The modification rate soared sharply...

But.

Even if his information was modified, even if he had a body of metal, even if only 1% of what constituted him remained—as long as he remembered his love for his daughter and the brilliance of humanity...

He would always be Abraham.

"Abraham, that form...!"

"I will be your chance. Young Creator, do what you must do. And... since I won't be seeing you for a while, let me speak comfortably."

Click.

Abraham completely transformed his right arm into a massive machine gun, ejecting a support stand that dug into the ground. Pushing up his sunglasses, he left one last word of encouragement for the young man climbing the tower for love.

"As the human Abraham, I say this: go save her in style. And give my regards to the Goddess."

"...Yes, Abraham. My creation. But seriously, don't die! If you do, Yuna will tear me apart!"

Is that so?

"Before I meet my daughter again... I cannot fall in a place like this!"

Ratatatatata!

The machine gun spewed fire, and demon flesh and blood scattered everywhere. Even amid the monstrous screams, thunderous noise, acrid gunpowder smoke, and fluttering bullets, the old man's heart never lost its light.

The Creator headed to the next floor.

===============================================================

And so, the wise magician used his intelligence to escape through the demons even in extreme circumstances.

But the young girl who wasn't wise enough couldn't do the same.

She had neither the eloquence to turn the magicians against each other, nor precious relationships to help her in dangerous moments.

All the girl could do was steel her heart.

"Everyone, don't give up. We can't... fall apart. Don't tear each other down, let's work together. We can, we can get out of here...!"

But no matter how much the girl pleaded with the other children...

"Please, stop talking nonsense. We're trapped in cages like livestock, crawling and whimpering—how exactly are we supposed to escape from this cursed tower?"

"Mom, I want to see Mom... I'm sorry, I won't eat anymore, just send me home..."

"If I, if I behave nicely, the magicians won't hurt me. Right? Right..."

All those voices and feelings scattered in vain.

Eventually, the children were divided into three groups: those trying to escape by any means, those complying with the magicians while looking for opportunities, and those who completely served the magicians.

And the experiment moved on to the next phase.

===============================================================

"Extra! Extra! The Heavenly Demon Sect, the righteous factions, and the demonic cult are clashing at Cheonmachong!"

"...Oh my?"

The next floor was wuxia-themed.