TPDGR 09

Chapter 9……

I still remembered the air of that day.

It was one of those days when I skipped a proper lunch and buried myself in work all day, just so I could leave on time.

Normally, my idea of “culture” was catching a random movie playing on TV.

But that day, for some reason, I lost my mind and impulsively booked a VIP seat for a musical.

After finishing up work quickly and leaving on time, I hopped into a taxi.

Just as I was about to arrive at the theater, I got a call from my team leader.

— This is Manager Park. I heard you left early today? You weren’t at your desk. And by the way, where’s the report you were supposed to submit today?

“What? What report?”

What the hell was he babbling about?

From the moment he started nagging about documents, chills ran down my spine and my mind went blank.

This bastard really called me on my way to the theater just to nag about paperwork?

Had he finally lost it?

— You know, the report I said I needed to get signed? The one we also had to give the contractor.

“You told me that wasn’t due until next week.”

— What? When did I ever say that?

I almost spat out curses.

This was his specialty.

Every time something happened, he’d say “When did I ever?” or “You must have misheard” and then dump the responsibility on someone else—an S-rank skill.

But I was sure of it. He had told me to hand it in next week, after finishing other tasks first. I remembered it clearly. You son of a—

But it was no use. His tone over the phone made it clear he was about to go off.

— So, what, you’re saying I’m wrong? You have proof? Wow. I thought you were working hard today, but actually you were slacking off, huh? Leaving on the dot without even doing something this basic? What was so urgent that you had to leave? Ever think about me, waiting all this time? Kids these days, unbelievable.

“No, that’s not what I meant—”

— What, you think I don’t have a family? Unlike you, I’ve got a son. And yet here I am, working overtime while you run off. Must be nice. You think leaving on time is some kind of right? Get back here immediately!

In the end, I turned the taxi around and went back to the office.

My 170,000-won VIP seat? Of course, it wasn’t refundable.

If I’d known I’d die early and end up possessing the Demon King, I would’ve just said “screw it” and gone to see that musical.

The next day—after ruining my 170,000-won ticket—the manager and his precious son flew off to Singapore for vacation.

Thinking back on it now, my grip tightened around the puppet’s neck.

Damn it, I still want to kill him.

“M-Milord Demon King…?”

Muttering to myself while recalling his face, I reluctantly let go of the strangled puppet.

At that moment, the puppeteer looked at me and asked:

“If the Demon King wishes… shall we put on a show for you?”

It turned out he wasn’t the only puppeteer.

No fewer than five of the refugees made their living performing puppet plays.

Sitting on the grass in front of the Gate, I hugged Gyu tightly.

Next to me sat the saintess, the hero, and the three orcs, all looking bewildered.

“Then, let us begin.”

My heart thumped as I fixed my gaze on the little stage.

Even if it was only puppets, it was still a play—and I had never seen one before.

Hyehwa Theater District had been way too far, three transfers just to get there, so I’d never even tried.

Two adorable puppets hopped lightly onto the stage.

The puppeteer moved his fingers, and the dolls opened their mouths and spoke.

“You dare covet my daughter, you lowborn? She’s the only child of three generations, the one destined to inherit the family business! You think a penniless nobody like you could be worthy of her? Know your place!”

“Father, but she loves me and I love her. Isn’t that enough? You don’t understand the beauty of love. It’s pitiful, really! I want to teach you from A to Z what love is!”

“What? You insolent brat…! Don’t call me father, I’m no father of yours! You sly fox! Here, eat this and get lost from my daughter!”

Smack, smack!

The dolls slapped each other while someone backstage made exaggerated slapping sounds with their mouths.

The audience sat in silence.

“How much? How much money will it take for you to leave her?”

“Heh. No matter how much you offer, I’ll never let her go.”

Even at the climax…

“Ah… in truth, I am your real father. That is why I cannot allow you to marry my adopted daughter. Please, forgive this wretched man!”

“Father!”

“My son!”

When the secret of his birth was revealed, the orcs’ faces went pale, and Gyu quietly groaned.

The saintess and the hero looked like they wanted to die, sneaking glances at me.

But I was utterly enthralled.

Behind the stage, the performers sweated buckets as they shouted with passion, throwing themselves completely into the trashy melodrama.

They were amazing.

That passion—they had it.

So this is why people go to plays.

This is what theater is. This is art!

Moved to tears, I whispered:

“This is… really touching.”

“…Are you serious?”

The saintess, pale as a ghost, asked me.

★★★★★

Meticulous acting and character weaving, a perfect journey of a father who knew not love but discovered family. At the peak, the grown son builds a pyramid of narrative.

— Demon King Anastasios

The play was moving.

Deeply, profoundly moving.

And I wanted that organized troupe system for myself.

When I returned to the castle, the orcs were sweating nervously.

“Y-you really mean to accept those refugees? Truly?”

“Yep. For real.”

“…You seriously like that third-rate, trashy puppet troupe?”

“Yep. I love it. The village has plenty of empty houses, right? Give them a few. Have them put on a new play once a month. I liked it.”

“B-but…”

I locked Orc No. 2 in a headlock.

“Listen, Number Two. You know what a jester is, right?”

“Urk—y-yeah.”

I looked down at him smugly.

“As you know, kings have always had jesters. Why? Because a king needs amusement! Governing is exhausting, and the king needs relief!”

“Well, sure, but…”

“And the people need culture.”

“Huh? Us? All of a sudden?”

The three orcs looked utterly confused, as if asking why they were dragged into this.

“Yes! Because life is more than just bread!”

“No, no. We’re fine with just bread. Besides, we’re orcs, not people.”

“You’re wrong. Inside, your artistic soul is crying out. I can hear it. Your souls are screaming.”

I released him and pressed my ear to his belly.

From inside, it was as if I heard a cry:

‘I’m starving… for art!’

Up till now, it was just the three orcs, Gyu, and me, enjoying a slow pastoral life.

But peace alone wasn’t enough.

Just that didn’t make it healing.

Who knows how long I’d be the Demon King, but a Demon King’s castle needed some entertainment.

A troupe, dedicated to me, for me, by me.

“That’s what a Royal Theater Company is!”

After seeing just that one perfect puppet play, my heart burned hotter than ever for it.

“So let’s bring them into the village. Fifteen people, living together happily, like a tiny kingdom of their own. What do you say?”

“No matter how you phrase it…”

I shrugged at their protests.

“Ah, fine. If you hate it that much…”

“Yes!”

“…Then will you guys perform the plays instead?”

“…What? How did we get here?”

“Well, I don’t actually care who puts on the plays. If you don’t want the refugees, then you three can do it. Make puppets, write scripts, and perform for me every day.”

A king needs jesters.

If we don’t bring in new ones…

Then the existing staff will just have to take on the role.

Their faces turned deathly pale as they caught my meaning.

“What? You can do it, right? Just give up a little sleep, work in the fields, stand guard, clean, and in your spare time, make dolls and scripts and put on plays. Easy.”

“Th-that’s…!”

“Hey, who knows? Like with cleaning, you might discover new talents. Sure, you’ll overwork a little, but you’re demons, you won’t die from it. Or, if you hate it, you can pack your bags and leave with the refugees…”

I trailed off, watching them squirm, until the orcs shouted as if biting their tongues.

“L-let’s accept them right away! L-lock—no, house them in the village and make them perform plays forever!”

“For whom?”

“For the Demon King… n-no, for us!!”

Hmph, about time.

“Then hire all ten of them as the first members of the Royal Theater Company! Now!”

“Yes, sir!!”

“From this day on, the name of the one you serve is Demon King Anasta… ah, too long. Just call me Kim-Ana.”

“That’s way too half-assed!!”