God-Tier Enhancement: My Upgrades Never Fail-Chapter 245: Episode _Thug of Light and Darkness (2)

2.

The “necklace” Simin had put on Aria was nothing fancy.

“Since you’re treating me like a dog, it reminded me of this,” Simin said.

“...It was one of the artifacts I cherished most,” Kardian muttered.

“You didn’t even remember it existed until I pulled it out.”

“Even so, to use that... You’ve gone too far, human.”

“What’s yours is mine. Got a problem with that?”

“...No.”

“Good. We live in a world where we all help each other, so let me borrow a few things. Besides, I stuffed your lair full of things you could never get your hands on otherwise, in exchange for your stuff. Remember?”

Kardian remained silent.

It was an artifact from a dragon’s lair, and a Special-grade one at that.

The so-called dog collar.

[+13 Rope of Subordination]

Grade: Special

Special Option 1: Can be placed on a target with their consent, forming a Mark of Subordination.

Special Option 2: The subordinated target swears obedience to the owner of the rope.

Special Option 3: The Mark of Subordination remains in effect until either the subordinated or the subordinator perishes.

Those were its options.

It had no ordinary options, only special ones. At a glance, it might have seemed useless—no regular stats, just three special effects—but with mutual consent, it could become an incredibly powerful artifact.

And in practice, Simin had just masterfully used it on Aria.

It looked more like a warm leather choker than a rope, but regardless, the Rope of Subordination was now fastened around her throat.

First, he’d made demons sign a contract without reading it, and now he’d staked his own life just to slap a dog collar on an angel.

“Do I really have to wear this?” Aria asked, holding the robe.

“You’d rather walk around naked?”

“How dare you subject a Celestial to such humiliation...”

“I’m the one who was humiliated. Even now, my whole body shakes when I think of the shame of being stabbed to death for no reason.”

“...I truly am sorry about that. But if you oppress a Celestial like this...”

“Then what?”

“You might be struck by divine punishment.”

Despite the many eyes on her, Aria unhesitatingly began to peel off the scraps of cloth she wore, warning Simin with a serious expression. Her face held genuine conviction.

Everyone else averted their gaze, but Simin met her eyes directly.

Well, his gaze didn’t stay fixed only on her eyes. He was a man, after all, and his eyes wandered. In any case, her warning fell on deaf ears.

“A damned god? You mean that BetaGo bastard? I’ve been screwed over by this game’s system so many times since the beginning that I’m not even scared anymore. Account deletion might worry me, but that’s not something I could stop anyway.”

Aria bit her lip.

“Here. Hurry up and put this on.”

“You’re too cruel.”

“I’ll say it again: you’re the cruel one here. Dammit. What’s the point of taming a high-rank Celestial if one of my extra lives just goes up in smoke?”

Not believing in God was his default setting. That disbelief was now compounded by the very real loss of his Necklace of Resurrection—an item he did believe in.

He’d already prepared for item drops upon death and had long since given up on leveling, so those weren’t the issue. But in the current climate, death translated directly into financial loss, and that meant he had to be careful.

Two days. In the next two days, the plans in his head could net him hundreds of millions of dollars. If he died, he’d be locked out, forced to watch from the sidelines, unable to control anything. That would be unbearable torture.

So yes, he was, quite sincerely, in a foul mood.

“What am I supposed to do with a muscle-headed angel who only knows how to hit things?” he muttered.

No one answered him.

“Trading my life for some angel who just kills people on sight... Ha. Of course my life would be this damn unlucky.”

Still, there was nothing to be done. The Necklace of Resurrection was gone, and the angel was his.

“Hey.”

“...Yes.”

“Stay by my side and cover me. If I get even the slightest inkling that I might die, I’m throwing you straight into the middle of the warlocks. You know I can give you an order you can’t resist, right?”

She nodded silently.

“And if you’re under the illusion that being a high-rank Celestial means you can break an artifact like that, you’re making a huge mistake. You’ve probably already tried, but that thing was personally collected by a Black Dragon with peculiar tastes. Don’t waste your energy. Just behave.”

In any case, he had to squeeze the best possible outcome from the hand he’d been dealt.

His voice and footsteps were laced with even more irritation than before, and the strike team instinctively went on high alert, keeping their mouths shut.

One by one, their resentful gazes drifted toward Aria.

She was a high-rank Celestial who looked like a literal angel. In a strike team full of grimy men in black, such open hostility would normally be unthinkable. Unfortunately for her, they were more afraid of Simin’s tantrums than anything else.

A heavy silence fell.

Less than an hour after her grand entrance, the high-rank Celestial Aria had been reduced to walking on eggshells around her new companions.

3.

The battlefield was a living hell.

Grokile had joined the fray, bringing with him the demons he had painstakingly gathered, along with hordes of monsters. By nature, demons thrived in a hellscape far more than humans did, which gave the warlocks a distinct advantage.

They were mages, after all. Though they had lived rough lives and trained enough to handle themselves in close combat, they were far more adept at casting dark magic from a distance.

With demons and monsters solidly drawing aggro on the front lines and their own inventories stuffed with mana potions, what did they have to fear?

After a long, brutal fight, the Continental Army had no choice but to fall back, resulting in a brief standoff.

The warlocks couldn’t recklessly charge, either. The ground that favored them was the cursed, plague-ridden hellscape where their demons and monsters ran wild. Anywhere else, the Continental Army still had priests blessing them from the rear, mages providing support, and knights looking for the perfect moment to charge.

Of course, they could charge in now and cause bloodshed. But it was better to wait for an opportunity to cause even more. The war was no longer unwinnable for the warlocks. With the arrival of the demons, a sliver of hope had appeared. If they fought smart, they might even win. Having made that calculation, they saw no need to take unnecessary risks.

Thus, both sides were given time to rest.

Specialist returned from the front lines to quench her thirst, her body drenched in blood. The feeling of fighting alongside monsters and fellow warlocks, killing both users and NPCs—it was exhilarating.

“This is insane,” one of the users said. “I never thought I’d get to play a game like this. It’s absolutely sick.”

“Don’t get too hyped,” Specialist warned. “Fight smart. If you die, the Main Quest is over for you.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s just so fun! Seriously, what other game lets you have this much fun fighting on the villain’s side?”

It was absolutely thrilling; it couldn’t help but be. Every human being has that instinct buried deep inside: the desire to stand on the side of the villains and act however they please, without worrying what anyone thinks. The reason people don’t is not because of a guilty conscience, but because of social scrutiny and the personal consequences that follow.

But here, none of that existed.

This wasn’t just some marketing slogan about “realism”; it was a world where you could truly play however you wanted. Of course, that realism came with a price, but unlike the real world, it didn’t force you to conform. Because of that, they didn’t have to read the room and side with the Continental Army.

“I should stock up on consumables for the next fight. I’m running way too low on mana.” 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

“Ugh, here we go again.”

“Leave her be. The EXP gain is great.”

It was the same for the other users who had sided with the warlocks. They weren’t just chatting among themselves; they were posting on the community boards, too. In a game like this, how could they not be excited?

Fueled by that excitement, the morale of the warlock camp soared. In the very first battle, they had seen a glimmer of hope in a war that had seemed utterly hopeless.

A festival-like atmosphere broke out.

The warlocks were still outnumbered more than ten to one. But what did that matter? What mattered was that despite their overwhelming numbers, the Continental Army’s camp felt like a funeral, a gloomy mood so palpable it could be felt all the way across the field.

Thanks to this, Grokile, the undisputed hero of their victory, was being worshipped.

“Ku-ha-ha-ha-ha! Just swat away the annoying attacks from behind, and I will kill every last one of these pathetic humans!”

“Wooooo!”

“Not even the Pope himself could stop me!”

His confidence was soaring. The memory of his brief, ill-fated encounter with Han Simin was already fading. He didn’t even notice someone approaching.

*

“Wow. What a spectacle.”

The commanders fell silent.

“See? Nothing works without me.”

A chill fell over the command tent. In the middle of the leadership circle, where no one dared to speak lightly and everyone was carefully reading the mood, Han Simin had casually tossed out those words. He said them right in front of the Emperor, a man who had never known defeat.

The commanders around them swallowed hard. These were men who, under normal circumstances, could meet with the Emperor alone and even make demands of him, but in an atmosphere like this, they were all walking on eggshells. For someone to be so provocative—and when they hadn’t even lost yet.

“It is not over yet,” the Emperor stated calmly.

He knew Simin was right, so he didn’t get angry. The atmosphere was grim. The momentum of a war was often decided in the first battle, and you couldn’t fix morale with a simple pep talk after suffering heavy losses. Morale had sunk far too low.

At Simin’s words, the Emperor brushed off his cloak and stood.

Simin, who hadn’t intended to provoke him into action, continued speaking as if he didn’t care in the slightest.

“From what I saw, demons have shown up and everything’s gone to hell. Should I lend a hand?”

“Lend a hand?”

“Ah, of course, I don’t mean I’m going to charge in as a mercenary in a war that will decide the fate of the Continent. The Imperial Knights and paladins I brought are all sponsored, so they’re fighting for free. What I mean is, I’m willing to rent out some of my personal artifacts... for a fee.”

The Emperor looked intrigued.

“You’ll be tempted when you hear what it is. I brought an artifact that’s perfect for a situation like this. And I’m preparing others as well.”

“What kind?”

The Emperor took Simin’s playful words seriously. For all his flippant talk, Simin wasn’t a man who peddled useless junk. And a moment like this was the perfect opportunity for a profiteer like him to make a killing.

Satisfied with the Emperor’s reaction, Simin glanced around before sidling up to him. Normally, only the Princess was allowed to get so close, but the Emperor waved away the knights who moved to block him.

Simin leaned in and whispered in his ear, so quietly that no one else in the silent tent could hear.

“...! Is that true?” the Emperor exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“Of course. As long as we can agree on the price, you can use it as much as you like.”

The corners of the Emperor’s mouth curled upward. Money? That was no problem at all. In fact, spending it on this was far more efficient than pouring it into some pointless project.

“Excited for tomorrow, aren’t you?” Simin asked with a grin.

“I am.”

The Emperor clasped the hand Simin held out.

It was the signal flare announcing the second act of the war.