Chapter 237
“Lloyd-nim? Why are you sighing so deeply like that?”
A voice that came without warning—Javier’s question, right behind him.
“……!”
‘So this is what it means when people say their heart sank.’
Lloyd flinched.
No—he forced himself not to show it.
Without thinking, he bit down hard on his lip.
He held his breath for a moment, eyes darting, head spinning as he scrambled for an excuse.
Only after remembering that Javier had approached from behind—meaning he hadn’t seen his face—did he turn around.
He let out a stifled laugh.
“Does it look like I wouldn’t sigh right now?”
He deliberately pointed toward the roadbed construction site and grumbled.
“See that? That roadbed over there. I’m going crazy, seriously.”
“Is there some problem?”
“Yeah, there is. The construction surface on the upper section of the upper roadbed. It’s a complete mess. I specifically told them not to compact it like that, but no. Those damn Satans really don’t listen.”
“Hm. From what I can see, it doesn’t look like there are any major issues.”
“Just because you don’t see any issues doesn’t mean I don’t see a dozen. If we lay sleepers and rails in that condition, everything’s going to warp later.”
“Is that so.”
“Yeah. I’ll have to call those Satan bastards over and make them compact it again. I’m at the point where I can’t trust them to do anything properly.”
“You must miss Sir Bayern.”
“Yeah. Him, the Engineering Corps, and the Bone Corps too.”
Lloyd’s smile turned bitter.
He’d brought it up as an excuse, but that part was sincere.
He missed Sir Bayern, the Engineering Corps, and the Bone Corps back in the Frontera Estate.
They were the ones who’d worked with him through countless projects, moving in perfect sync.
Veterans he could trust.
“But why did you come here?”
“It seemed to be time for your meal.”
“Please tell me tonight’s menu isn’t grilled lava centipede belly fat again.”
“Unfortunately, tonight’s menu is also grilled lava centipede belly fat.”
“Is that really the best option?”
“It must be. It’s the only thing we can procure and cook here.”
“There’s steaming or frying besides grilling, right?”
“Water is too scarce for steamed dishes, and we have no flour to make batter for frying.”
“Then can’t we just eat it raw?”
“Raw, you say?”
“Yeah. Like soy sauce marinated crab—no, anyway, just raw.”
“Do you truly wish to do that?”
“……No.”
Lloyd deliberately let out a deep sigh.
It had already been about three months since he’d thrown himself into the roadbed construction.
In that time, he’d eaten so much centipede meat he was sick of it.
It was practically the only food available here.
At first, it tasted pretty good, but now just the smell made him nauseous.
“Well, what can we do. Let’s go, let’s go.”
With an even bigger sigh, he started walking.
He kept a step ahead of Javier.
Unbeknownst to Javier, a faint smile tugged at Lloyd’s lips.
At the same time, he wiped his brow in relief—only inwardly.
‘Whew. That was close.’
He’d barely managed to change the subject.
And from the look of it, Javier hadn’t noticed anything in particular.
‘If he had, it would’ve been a problem.’
Lloyd patted the chest area of his outer garment.
The slightly bulging inner pocket.
Frontera—the wastrel’s specter—was hidden inside.
Just a little while ago, they’d been going back and forth loudly.
So Lloyd had been worried Javier might’ve heard.
But as he steered the conversation away and watched Javier’s reaction?
Fortunately, Javier seemed calm.
He didn’t look like he’d noticed anything.
Only then did Lloyd’s pounding heart finally settle.
His steps grew a little lighter.
In contrast, Javier’s gaze grew heavier.
‘……’
Somehow, Lloyd-nim was strange.
He couldn’t shake that thought.
‘Because Lloyd-nim isn’t someone who complains about food.’
At least, the Lloyd Frontera Javier knew wasn’t.
At least, ever since he’d stopped his wastrel ways, he truly wasn’t.
He rarely refused even plain, crude meals.
He wasn’t picky about taste.
He didn’t tire of things easily.
He could eat the same food for ten days, a month, without complaint.
Even if he felt dissatisfied inside, he didn’t show it.
He was like someone who’d lived in poverty for years—someone who deeply understood the value of food.
But just now?
‘He openly said he was sick of centipede meat.’
Someone who hadn’t been like that at all until this morning.
And then, by evening, he’d reacted with clear disgust.
Javier couldn’t help finding it strange.
‘And that muttering earlier was definitely strange, too.’
Lloyd’s back as he walked ahead.
Javier’s gaze on it sharpened.
In fact, just before he spoke to Lloyd, he’d heard Lloyd’s voice.
‘It felt like he was talking to himself. No—more like two Lloyd-nims were having a conversation.’
As unbelievable as it sounded, it truly felt that way.
The nearby volcano’s noise had drowned out the actual words.
But the tone—the atmosphere—he could still grasp.
‘It felt like Lloyd-nim was talking to Lloyd-nim. And what’s even stranger… two different tones kept alternating.’
As if two personalities sharing the same voice were conversing.
Or two people with the same voice were arguing.
It was exactly that kind of muttering.
‘And one of those tones… it sounded like the way Lloyd-nim used to speak.’
It really was exactly like that.
Back when Lloyd hadn’t come to his senses.
Back in the period when he’d been doing all kinds of wastrel things.
It was the same tone from that time.
So what Javier had overheard sounded like the wastrel-era Lloyd and the current Lloyd snapping at each other.
‘……’
Could it be that Lloyd-nim has a split personality?
‘No. That doesn’t seem right.’
Javier shook his head slightly.
No matter how he looked at Lloyd, there were no signs of that.
Which only made him more confused.
‘And last time, the King of Hell called Lloyd-nim by a strange title. Kim Suho. What does that even mean?’
Lloyd had said then that he didn’t know what it meant.
But from Javier’s perspective, it felt different.
‘Lloyd-nim knows something.’
But he was deliberately not revealing it.
The more Javier watched, the more certain he became.
‘Well… it’s not like there’s only been one strange thing. There have been plenty, for a long time.’
To be exact, it had started a few years ago—the day Lloyd suddenly began building ondol.
From that day, Lloyd changed.
He changed as if he’d become a completely different person.
Back then, even while finding it strange, Javier had also thought it wasn’t a bad thing.
A hopeless wastrel turning earnest overnight.
Everyone around him—Javier included—had welcomed that change.
But now?
Javier felt uneasy.
He became afraid that Lloyd might suddenly revert to his former self.
He’d already changed completely once.
There was no guarantee he couldn’t change again.
So the unease only grew.
‘Lloyd-nim… I want to protect your earnest self now.’
Even if Lloyd was petty and underhanded at times.
Even if Javier often pointed it out.
Still, the current Lloyd was far better than the wastrel he used to be.
No—deep down, Javier truly believed he could trust him and follow him.
That was why he felt even more uneasy.
‘If Lloyd-nim returns to his former self… what should I do?’
He had no answer.
He could only hope it wouldn’t happen.
So that everyone wouldn’t fall into misfortune again.
He wished for it—again and again.
And quietly, he steeled his resolve.
‘I don’t know how much help I can be… but to protect Lloyd-nim’s current self, I will do anything.’
Lloyd walked ahead.
A determined light rose in Javier’s eyes as he stared at his back.
♣
The railway construction continued.
There still didn’t seem to be any immediate way to help Frontera’s specter.
So Lloyd focused on the construction for now.
From the edge of Hell to Hell Castle at the center of Hell.
The roadbed construction spanning a full 110 kilometers was entering its final stage.
During that time, Lloyd drove and exploited the 30,000 Satans even more efficiently.
The secret was simple.
He just had to cosplay as the most vicious employer imaginable.
“You all know, right? Another all-nighter today!”
Overtime pay for the all-nighter?
Of course not.
Welfare benefits for the miserable working conditions?
Of course not.
He just drove them hard, then drove them harder.
He didn’t even let them leave the site.
And if their efficiency dipped even a little?
He dragged them over, unloaded every kind of scolding, and pressured them relentlessly.
“Now, repeat after me! The reason you’re tired and sluggish is because you lack passion and perseverance!”
“Passion! Perseverance!”
“Your voices are too small!”
“Passiooon! Perseveraaance!”
“Good! Work harder with that energy!”
“…Sniff! But it’s too painful and difficult!”
“Shut up! It has to be painful and difficult to be a Satan!”
That was the style.
Of course, it was the complete opposite of Lloyd’s usual principles—something he would never do.
If you make people do hard work, you pay them accordingly.
If the work is dangerous, you provide safety measures and hazard pay.
And for all of it, you write a proper labor contract.
That was Lloyd’s standard.
The bitterness and humiliation he’d endured countless times on construction sites in South Korea—even the misery of having his wages docked.
He didn’t want that kind of filth happening on his site.
But now?
It was different.
‘Because this is Hell!’
Hell was truly a strange place.
If you treated workers like this anywhere else, the site would’ve already erupted into chaos.
But here in Hell, it was the opposite.
The harsher he drove them, the more the Satans liked it.
The more brutally he worked them, the more the Satans cheered.
The more he ignored welfare and comfort, the more the Satans went wild.
‘…Aren’t they all completely insane psychopaths?’
He couldn’t help thinking so.
In other words, if you treated Satans softly, gently, and reasonably, they saw you as a pushover.
They looked down on you, climbed all over you, and ignored your orders.
That was why—
‘It doesn’t match my site policy at all, but there’s no choice. This is localization. I have to run the site in a way that fits local customs.’
Lloyd strangled the voice of his conscience, kept up the self-hypnosis (?), and drove the Satans without mercy.
Thanks to that, the roadbed was completed at an absurd pace.
Once the roadbed—the foundation of the railway—was finished, he immediately began laying track.
‘No need to make it grand or complex. The train that transports souls just needs to run smoothly at an appropriate speed, both up and down.’
There was no need to build anything as luxurious or complicated as the KTX high-speed rail back in modern South Korea.
Lloyd decided to stick to the fundamentals.
‘First, the ballast that supports the tracks on the roadbed.’
He chose a ballasted track foundation.
In simple terms, it meant spreading gravel over the entire base.
‘The gravel provides friction, and it absorbs shock and vibration to a degree. Construction is simple, and the structure is straightforward.’
There were downsides: dust would kick up when trains ran, and maintenance took effort.
But none of that mattered.
‘Because this is Hell. Fine dust is the least of anyone’s problems, and there will be plenty of Satans to throw into maintenance work anyway.’
Right now, a whopping 800,000 Satans were transporting souls one by one with carts.
But once the railway became fully operational?
A huge number of Satans would obviously be driven into unemployment (?).
It would be easiest to shove the surplus into track maintenance.
‘Phew. So let’s work, work!’
Spreading gravel was easy.
Hell was overflowing with stone.
Rocks formed from cooled volcanic debris were scattered everywhere.
They scraped them up, spread them flat along the full 110-kilometer roadbed, then laid sleepers and rails on top.
Even then, Lloyd didn’t insist on the latest methods.
He could’ve manufactured modern high-performance vibration-isolation fastening systems like the ALT-System, widely used in places like South Korea, Germany, the United States, and Switzerland.
‘But there’s no need to go that far.’
Sure, the newest techniques reduced vibration and noise, making the ride more comfortable.
But here?
Choosing something like that would only make construction unnecessarily complicated and drag the schedule out.
‘Besides, it’s a train hauling Satans and tiny souls in bulk. Ride comfort, my ass.’
So he picked a relatively old, simple method instead: STEDEF.
‘Out of what I’ve studied, it’s the oldest and simplest.’
STEDEF was first developed in France in 1964.
It was also widely used in South Korea’s early rail lines—national railways, and Seoul Subway Lines 1 through 4.
“Lay the sleepers! Place the rails! Fill the fasteners properly! Follow the construction guidelines!”
The sleepers—laid horizontally on the ballast to fix the rails and distribute the load—were made from lava centipede legs.
Four sturdy centipede legs were woven together into a single sleeper.
Those centipede-leg sleepers were driven into the ballast, and rails were laid atop them.
The rails—the parts the train wheels would actually run on—were made from centipede shells.
And who made them?
Javier.
How?
With the dazzlingly powerful Aura he’d gained upon reaching the Grand Master realm.
Scrrkk!
With a single sword swing, dozens of streams of Aura burst out—fwoosh!
They tore into the centipede corpses.
The thick, hard shells were dismantled in an instant.
They were cut and processed—slice, slice—into specifications so uniform it was almost eerie.
Those countless shell-rails were then laid over the sleepers.
Centipede antennae were used as fasteners.
Like cable ties, they bound the holes beneath the rails to the ballast.
Then the whole sleeper-and-rail assembly was fixed down even more firmly, as if being hammered in.
“Ppodong! Stomp!”
“Ppo-dong!”
Ppodong—who had grown huge after eating the rare red sunflower seeds—jumped with glee.
His solid, plump belly and butt jiggled as he put his full weight into each stomp.
Bang, bang. Thud, thud. Thump, thump. Bang, thud, thud.
Heavy, deafening noise shook the site all day long.
Of course, Lloyd didn’t care about the noise.
The reason was simple.
Because this was Hell.
‘It’s Hell. No one lives here anyway. Why would I care about noise?’
There was no need to worry about surrounding damage from noise, dust, or anything else.
Thanks to that, the construction screamed forward at an unbelievable pace.
But because of that, Lloyd had no idea—not even in his dreams.
Because it was Hell.
Because there were no people.
He hadn’t paid the slightest attention to the noise.
And because of that, the site was slowly becoming dangerous.
– ……Rumble. So noisy.
At the bottom of a lava lake near the railway construction site, something had been sleeping soundly.
But now?
It was angry.
All because of the construction noise—like someone writhing in fury at loud, inconsiderate upstairs neighbors on a Sunday morning.
– Rumble… Should I… kill them all.
The most dangerous, most violent existence in the wilds of Hell.
A lava giant was opening its eyes, filled with destructive rage.