Bug God's Territory
A tall, pitch-black figure emerged from the passage. Jack had returned from his power-up.
The moment their boss appeared, the Tiger-level Monsters scattered throughout the territory scrambled to assemble. The newer recruits still had some spirit left in them—puffing up, trying to look impressive. The veterans, however, were already sweating profusely. Their eyes darted nervously.
Please don't pick me. Please don't pick me.
Everyone knew what happened to Monsters who got selected for the boss's "meal delivery" missions.
None of them ever came back.
It was a horror story. A cautionary tale. Any Monster with half a brain could figure out that their missing colleagues hadn't been promoted. They'd been eaten. No survivors. Ever.
Jack settled onto the meticulously carved stone throne his subordinates had prepared. His sharp claws tapped a slow rhythm against the cold armrest. Tap. Tap. Tap. His gaze swept across the neatly arranged ranks below.
"Where's Sharp Fang?"
The moment the words left his mouth, an eager Tiger-level Monster sprang into action. It located Sharp Fang—currently balancing accounts in the storeroom—and let the corpulent rat climb onto its back before galloping over at full speed.
"Lord Bug God!" Sharp Fang's voice carried from afar. "Your subordinate is late! Please forgive me, my Lord!"
Jack: …
He stared at the rat Monster.
Sharp Fang was now at least two sizes larger than when Jack had first met him. He sat atop a giant tiger's back, his fur glossy and smooth, radiating the unmistakable sheen of a well-fed, well-pampered existence.
A rat borrowing an insect's power.
The small eyes still darted around with that signature shrewdness—sharper than ever, honed by survival. But what remained unchanged was the gaze they fixed on Jack: undisguised worship. Fanatic devotion.
(Loyalty)
Jack felt a flicker of gratification.
Then annoyance.
The rat he'd casually promoted was living better than he was. More comfortable. More prosperous. The roles had truly inverted.
Sharp Fang prostrated himself on the ground, his voice oozing fawning devotion: "My Lord! Please feel free to command your humble servant! Your humble servant will do his utmost—!"
"Alright, alright." Jack waved a claw. "Stand up. Speak."
"Yes, my Lord!"
Jack studied him for a moment. He suddenly understood Psykos a little better. That psychic older sister probably felt the same complex emotions when dealing with him.
"Sharp Fang. I'll be leaving for a period. Great Eyes has assigned me a mission."
At the name Great Eyes, Sharp Fang's small green-bean eyes went wide. He clearly understood the weight behind it.
His reverent gaze shifted—deepened—into something else. Profound satisfaction. The look of an old father watching his accomplished son. Or a shut-in watching his waifu reach max level with full gear breakthroughs. Pure, uncomplicated pride.
Jack: ???
Put away whatever strange thoughts you're having.
He glared at the rat. Then continued.
"While I'm away, you're fully responsible for territory affairs."
Sharp Fang nodded vigorously.
"Also—the daily food preparation for Lord Pochi. Do not let it go wrong. Understand?"
"Yes! Yes! Your subordinate understands!!"
Sharp Fang's head bobbed like a garlic pounding mortar. Jack had assigned him simple household management and pet-feeding duties. Sharp Fang reacted as if he'd just received a top-secret mission concerning the Monster Association's very survival.
"Please rest assured, my Lord! Your humble servant will handle everything perfectly. I will not fail your trust!"
Hmm.
Jack observed his fervor. An idea stirred.
"Work hard." His tone shifted—encouraging, almost. "When I return, if you've done well… I'll take you to meet Great Eyes. See if she can give you a chance to become stronger."
Sharp Fang's head snapped up.
His corpulent body trembled.
As a Wolf-level Monster from the humblest origins, Sharp Fang had survived by clinging to the new Bug God's coattails. But he remained cautious every single day. Terrified, really—that some powerful being who didn't recognize him would casually crush him.
Because at his core, he was still weak.
"M-M-My Lord…!" Sharp Fang's voice cracked with emotion. Words tumbled out, incoherent in their intensity. "Your subordinate's—your subordinate's loyalty to you—the heavens can bear witness! The sun and moon can attest! I am willing to go through fire and water for my Lord! To die ten thousand deaths without regret!!"
Jack watched the rat Monster, whose fervent demeanor now seemed to include an imaginary feathered fan and silk scarf.
He nodded. Satisfied.
Hmm. Clearly a cultured Monster.
Jack nodded inwardly. A grand vision. Appropriate incentives. This was how you maintained subordinate loyalty.
He hadn't always been good at this. But after dealing with Great Eyes—negotiating, wheedling, extracting resources—he'd inexplicably developed the skill.
(Self-cultivation of a capitalist.)
(Psykos, somewhere: ???)
Jack's gaze drifted to the tiger Monster still crouched behind Sharp Fang. He'd noticed this one before. One of the few clever Monsters among his generally dim-witted subordinates.
The really clever ones had already been taken on "feeding" missions. They hadn't come back.
"What's your name?"
The tiger Monster hadn't expected to be addressed. He genuinely trembled on the spot—massive frame shuddering—before answering in a simple, honest voice.
"Lord Bug God, your humble servant has no name yet. Whatever you're pleased to call me—that's what I'll be called."
Jack's eyebrow—metaphorically—rose.
Look at that. Ideological awareness.
He clicked his tongue twice. Considered.
"Since that's the case… from now on, you'll be Overlord Tiger."
A tiger Monster named Overlord Tiger. It made a certain kind of sense.
"Over… Overlord Tiger?!" ×2
The tiger Monster trembled again. Sharp Fang's face contorted with surprise—and something else.
The former repeated the name, turning it over in his mind. The more he thought, the brighter his eyes grew. Dominance. Authority. Presence.
The latter felt a sharp pang of jealousy. I was here first! My Lord didn't give me such an arrogant, resounding name!
"Overlord Tiger thanks Lord Bug God for bestowing a name!!"
The massive creature prostrated himself in genuine gratitude. Jack regarded him evenly.
"Overlord Tiger. From now on, you're Sharp Fang's deputy. Responsible for protecting his safety. Understood?"
The tiger Monster—newly named, newly elevated—lit up. His honest, broad face split into a joyful grin.
"Yes, Lord Bug God! I will not fail your trust!"
Sharp Fang, at this moment, was even happier.
His small eyes sparkled. His tail—vestigial as it was—practically wagged to the sky.
I am still in my Lord's heart!
Jack: ???
Lord Pochi's Territory
The mountain-sized black giant dog lay in deep slumber.
Then, without warning, his head snapped up. Nostrils flared. Sniffed.
The familiar scent in the air reached him.
Lord Pochi's six large eyes blinked in confusion.
Woof…? * (What's going on…?*)
The next second—a strong gust of wind surged.
The giant beast transformed into a blurred black hurricane. In a few earth-shaking leaps, he arrived at a wide intersection and lowered his massive head. Below him stood Jack—dwarfed in comparison despite his three-meter height.
Woof, woof woof? * (Didn't you just come today? Why are you here again?*)
Lord Pochi's expression suggested he was genuinely questioning his own memory.
Jack approached with practiced ease. He mobilized the violent power within his body until his pitch-black battle armor glowed with dangerous crimson patterns. He raised his sharp claws—gleaming with a chilling light.
And with practiced, familiar motions…
Began grooming the dog's already glossy black fur.