Half a month later—
"I heard something bad is going to happen."
Golarial, who had been waiting nearly all day, spoke gravely to Orsaga, who was still buried in his work.
"Could you do a divination for me?"
In her eyes, Orsaga's methods of divination had always been bizarre. He might randomly pull someone's spine out and count the vertebrae, or pluck a few hairs from a passerby.
But the results? Always surprisingly accurate.
So now, with no clear leads on the ominous feeling looming over them, she naturally turned to him.
Orsaga, who was currently remotely adjusting the spread of his diseases across multiple planes, paused and asked curiously.
"Bad thing? What kind of bad thing?"
According to his precognitive ability, [Void – Revelation], if some catastrophe were imminent in this area, he should've had at least a vague premonition.
So he was honestly curious—who had started spreading that rumor?
Golarial, still serious, replied,
"I'm not sure of the details either. But Master Cluster, Master Astrell, Master Chase, and Master Yashod… they all independently divined the same outcome through astrological reading—something terrible is about to happen!"
The "masters" she mentioned were all prophecy-based mages, legendary Rank at minimum, and two of them were even Demigods.
That's why unrest had begun to spread through the Elsella Kingdom. When so many masters reached the same conclusion at the same time, it was hard to dismiss.
Which was why she wanted Orsaga to take a look and find the real cause.
"Star-based divination?"
Hearing her explanation, Orsaga looked up. His eyes seemed to pierce through the ceiling, straight into the "starry sky" above—the one projected by the planetary barrier's dynamic wallpaper.
A short silence followed.
"…How do I even begin to explain this to you…"
He scratched his head, then casually snapped his fingers.
Instantly, the starry sky above shifted—the constellations began to spin, and the stars rearranged themselves in entirely new formations.
"!"
The prophecy mages across the Elven Kingdom who were still analyzing the skies went pale on the spot. They stared upward with expressions like they'd just seen a ghost—their entire worldview shaken to the core.
None of them had ever imagined such a thing was possible.
After doing this, Orsaga turned to Golarial and said simply,
"Problem solved."
"…What?"
Seeing that all he did was snap his fingers, Golarial asked, puzzled,
"That's it?"
Orsaga waved it off casually.
"Just turned off the dynamic wallpaper. No big deal."
"...?"
Golarial had no idea what he was talking about.
But since the issue was apparently resolved, she didn't press further.
After all, Orsaga had a habit of saying strange and cryptic things. Sometimes, she couldn't make any sense of him—and sometimes, not even he could explain what he meant.
With that settled, she looked at him curiously. His expression was serious and focused—a rare sight.
"You've been in here all day. Working on something important?"
It was rare to see Orsaga devote himself so intently to anything—
Well, besides women.
Still hunched over his work, Orsaga replied offhandedly while processing and modifying disease data:
"I'm fighting for my basic income."
Seeing him actually motivated for once only piqued Golarial's curiosity.
"Basic income? You need that kind of thing?"
"It's the equivalent of your social welfare programs—you know, like food assistance for the unemployed."
He answered without even looking up.
"Oh… I get it. But no offense, you don't really seem like someone who needs that."
Golarial's confusion only deepened.
Orsaga shook his head.
"A high-quality demon like me always attracts weirdos. So I have to be prepared for anything. If one day I get unlucky and someone blasts me into mush, these little tricks might come in handy."
To him, his 'Multi-World Plague Inc Strategy' was insurance. Not only did it accelerate his power growth, it also gave him a reliable source of fallback energy in case of sudden death.
Of course, if it still wasn't enough to save him—
Well, at least he could die in a dignified pose.
After spreading for over a century, his diseases had infected around 1.3 trillion intelligent lifeforms in the Wizard World.
Held back by population size, poor infrastructure, and the vast distances involved.
But the this Plane was a different story. With the Steller Empire as the origin point—a vast interstellar nation with dense populations and efficient transit—the spread had been explosive.
In just a few years, over 100 trillion carriers had been seeded across countless planets.
Even if 99.9% of them only experienced mild cold-like symptoms, the sheer scale provided Orsaga with an enormous population base—
A perfect reserve of long-term resources.
Under his design, the diseases typically presented only as minor ailments.
They would slowly siphon off bits of vitality and soul energy, weakening the host subtly.
Then, through a link to Orsaga himself, all the harvested energy would be transmitted to him remotely.
If the host had decent resistance, the illness would pass in a few days with no serious impact.
Even more severe diseases followed the same logic—
As long as the body could hold out, there was no fatal harm. Most were entirely curable.
Because for Orsaga, sustainability was key.
He wasn't looking to wipe people out—he just wanted to harvest them indefinitely.
Oh, and one more thing—
Even when the disease was "cured," it never truly disappeared.
It would instead lie dormant in the host's body, waiting to be reactivated under certain conditions—
A cyclical farming strategy to repeatedly "trim the crop."
And if the patient did happen to die from it, the disease wouldn't completely devour their soul and vitality.
Instead, it would only extract a percentage, preserving most of the soul's remains.
The body would appear to have died from natural illness.
Even soul searches and autopsies wouldn't reveal anything unusual.
No one would ever suspect soul-harvesting.
That allowed Orsaga to farm in safety and stealth.
Up to this point—
After years of development and continual optimization, the diseases had grown highly efficient.
Even after factoring in remote-transmission losses, Orsaga now earned around 8 million evolution points per day, with a steady upward trend.
At this stage, the Multi-World Plague Inc Strategy was finally showing results. And all of his years of effort had paid off.
Just a little more work, and he could truly live his dream of lying around while collecting resources.
No labor, just dividends.
After all, working? That was never part of the plan.
Lazing around and collecting free income? That was the real dream.
Of course, if the pay was high enough. He could pretend that principle was nonsense and take the occasional side gig.
From night guard to brick hauler—he wasn't picky.
But if the money wasn't enough?
Then forget it.
Because a man of culture never settles for cheap work.
__
T/N:
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