Chapter 22: Debt Restructuring
"Eat him, Boss," I transmit, my internal persona watching the blue dome close over the grey giant. "Just don't expect me to help with the indigestion afterward."
The marsh falls into a silence so profound it's practically audible. The 200,000 Orcs—the "Disaster" that was supposed to liquidate the entire forest—stand like statues of grey stone. I am still pulsing the Satiety lie through the [Command Law], but the strain is starting to show in my magicule core. My obsidian-sheened membrane feels like it's being squeezed by a hydraulic press.
Warning. Maintaining a group-wide biological rewrite [Satiety] is consuming 0.8% Magicule reserves per minute. Soul Capacity stabilization at 39% is creating significant internal friction.
Azathoth, tell me something I don't know. My internal Deadpool is currently screaming about the "energy bill" we're racking up. But if I let go now, these 200,000 hungry pigs wake up and realize they're still in the red. I'm not a fan of being a buffet.
Finally, the massive blue sphere that was Rimuru begins to shrink. It collapses back into his standard, bouncy form. Beside him, there is nothing. Orc Lord Geld has been officially repossessed.
"It's over," Rimuru says, his voice sounding uncharacteristically weary. He turns to face the silent army. "Your King is gone. But his hunger... I've taken it. You don't have to suffer anymore."
I deactivate the [Command Law].
The aura of the [Transaction Domain] snaps back to my immediate vicinity. Instantly, the Orcs stagger. The collective gasp of 200,000 pairs of lungs re-entering reality sounds like a gale wind. They aren't attacking, though. They're looking at Rimuru with a mixture of confusion and a strange, hollow relief.
"Lord Rimuru," Benimaru says, landing softly in the mud beside us. The Kijin are covered in Orc ichor, looking like they've just finished a very messy day at the office. "The threat is neutralized. What is the plan for the surplus labor?"
"Surplus labor?" Rimuru blinks. "You mean the Orcs?"
"Boss, let's look at the balance sheet," I pulse, floating toward him. My body feels heavy, the [Enhanced Physical Constitution] I copied earlier making me feel less like a slime and more like a lead weight. "We have 200,000 units with zero resources and a massive reputational deficit. If we turn them loose, they starve. If we kill them, we waste a generation of heavy-lifting muscle. The only logical move is a debt-for-equity swap."
"A what?"
"A merger, Rimuru. They work for the Forest Alliance. We provide the infrastructure and the food supply. In exchange, they become the construction and defense force for the entire Jura region. It's the only way to avoid a total write-off."
Rimuru looks at the Orcs, then at the Dryad Treyni, who has materialized out of the mist like she was waiting for the closing bell.
"Shinji is right," Treyni says, her smile as serene as ever. "The forest needs a new order. An Alliance of all races, led by the one who took on the Orc Lord's burden."
The next few hours are a blur of high-level negotiations. We set up a camp that actually has some standards—thanks to some [Luxury Manifestation] I used to create a dry, silk-carpeted meeting area. I refused to sign a treaty while sitting in a puddle.
The Lizardmen, led by a much more humbled Gabil (and his far more competent sister), the Goblins, the Kijin, and the High Orcs—now led by Geld's son, who Rimuru named Geld—all gather.
"As of today," Rimuru announces, standing on a stump, "the Jura Forest Alliance is officially formed! We're going to build a place where everyone can live together!"
The cheers are loud, but all I see are the logistical hurdles. 200,000 Orcs need houses. They need a sewage system. They need a supply chain that doesn't rely on cannibalism.
"Rigurd," I pulse, my external persona projecting a cold, indomitable calm. "Get the Orc foremen to me. We're going to map out the first housing district. And someone find Myrd. If we don't start the drainage project by tomorrow, this 'Alliance' is going to be underwater."
Notice. Magicule Reserves: 84.2%. Soul Capacity: 39%. The first major expansion phase has been successfully initiated. Note: User's internal complexity is nearing a threshold. Formal evolution is recommended to stabilize acquired traits.
Evolution, huh? I think, looking at my dark, obsidian surface. I hope it comes with a better office and an actual chair. This floating is starting to feel like a lot of unpaid overtime.
Current Magicule Reserves: 84.2%. Location: Marshland Negotiation Camp. Status: Alliance formed. Construction phase pending.
Chapter End.