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visuals, and detailed settings of a player’s home.

What awaited the players who set off for adventures in such a world was a colossal map. Nine

homeworlds consisting of Asgard, Alfheim, Vanaheim, Nidavellir, Midgard, Jotunheim, Niflheim,

Helheim, and Muspelheim.

A vast world, innumerable classes, and fully customizable visuals.

It had ignited the artisan spirits of the Japanese players and caused a phenomenon that would

later be called ‘visual popularity’.

With such explosive popularity behind it, it had reached a level of acclaim where Yggdrasil and

DMMO-RPG were considered as one and the same in Japan.

—Alas, that was a story of a generation past.

*

A grand round table of obsidian lustre was in the center of the guildhall, surrounded by 41

luxurious seats.

But most of them were vacant.

Only two silhouettes were visible now where all the members once used to sit.

One wore an elaborate, jet-black academic gown adorned with gold and violet edges. The

decoration around its neck seemed somewhat excessive, but strangely, it was rather fitting.

However, the head that should have been sitting above the lavish collar was nothing more than

a skull, devoid of skin and flesh. There was a dark red glow inside the empty eye sockets, and a

dark halo-like object glimmered behind its head.

The other individual sitting in another seat was not a human, either. It was a lump of black goo.

Its surface, reminiscent of coal tar, quivered and never maintained a consistent shape even for

a second.

The former was an Overlord that ranked top even among the Elder Liches — Magic Casters

who had turned into the undead in the pursuit of ultimate magic. The latter was an Elder Black

Ooze, a race with powerful acidic abilities that was close to the strongest among the slime types.

Yet, they were not monsters.

They were player characters.

The selectable races in Yggdrasil were divided into three diverse categories: classic, humanoid

races such as humans, dwarves and elves; demi-human races with hideous appearances such

as goblins, orcs, and ogres, favoured for their physical prowess; and the heteromorphic races

who possessed monster abilities and higher stats than any other races, but were given

restrictions in various aspects. If you include the high-tier races for these three, the number of

all the races reached a total of 700.

Of course, Overlord and Elder Black Ooze were one of the high-tier heteromorphic races that

players were able to pick.

Between those two people, the Overlord talked without its mouth moving. Despite being the

previous generation’s top DMMO-RPG, it was technologically impossible to change expressions

to go with the conversation.

“Wow, it’s been a real y long time, ‘Meromero’-sama. Even though it’s the last day for Yggdrasil,

I honestly didn’t expect anyone to actual y show up.”

“I agree. It’s been so long, ‘Momonga’-sama.”

The Elder Black Ooze replied with a voice of an adult male, but in comparison to the Overlord,

there was no trace of what could be called vigor or liveliness.

“This is the first time since you changed your job in real life, so how long has it been? … Hasn’t

it been like two years?”

“Ah — that seems about right. Wow~ It’s been that long already… Oh boy, my sense of time is

out of whack because I’ve been doing nightly overtime shifts everyday lately.”

“Isn’t that a real y dangerous sign? Are you okay?”

“Physically? I’m in complete rags. It’s not so much as to visit a doctor, but I’m almost on the

verge of it. I seriously want to run away. Stil , I have to earn money to make ends meet, so I’m

working for my dear life while being whipped like a slave.”

“Wow…”

The Overlord—Momonga tilted his head back and made an irritated gesture.

“Real y, it’s unbearable.”

Meromero’s gloomy voice, laden with an incredible sense of reality, flew towards Momonga as if

to inflict a follow-up strike.

His complaint in regards to work in the real world accelerated further.

Stories about impudent subordinates, plans that were completely altered overnight, criticism

from his superior for failing to meet his quota, days pulling all-nighters due to shitloads of work, abnormal weight increase from his ruined biorhythm, the growing number of drugs with each

passing day.

Eventually, the conversation turned one-sided as Meromero’s gripe burst out like a broken dam.

There are a lot of people who avoid talking about reality in the virtual world. The feeling of not

wanting to drag the real world into the virtual world was understandable.

However, the two people here did not think that way.

The guild — a team formed, organized and operated by an assembly of players — that they

belonged to, Ainz Ooal Gown, had two rules for joining.

First, you have to be a member of society. Secondly, you had to be of a heteromorphic race.

Due to the nature of the guild, there were many cases where complaints about work in real life

became the topic, and this was accepted by the guild members. It could be said the

conversation these two were having was an everyday scene in Ainz Ooal Gown.

After a good amount of time had passed, the words of grievance from Meromero’s mouth came

to a halt.

“… I’m sorry for my endless complaining. I don’t get much chance to vent on the other side.”

Meromero wiggled what appeared to be its head as if to bow. In response to this, Momonga

quickly replied.

“It’s okay, Meromero-sama. I was the one who asked you to come, even though you were

exhausted.

Compared to earlier, a faint laughter with a bit more vigor was heard from Meromero.

“Thank you very much, Momonga-sama. I’m glad that I logged in and got to meet up.”

“I'm glad to hear you say that."

“… But I'm afraid it’s about time for me to …”

Meromero’s tentacle moved in the air as if it was touching something. He was operating his

console.

“Ah, you’re right. It’s gotten very late.”

“I’m sorry, Momonga-sama.”

Momonga sighed softly to conceal the emotions that had risen inside him.

“I see. That’s a shame. … Honestly, fun times fly by so fast.”

“I real y want to be with you until the end, but I’m exhausted.”

“You must be worn out. Please, do log out and get some rest.”

“I’m real y sorry. … Momon- no, Guildmaster, what wil you do?”

“I’m planning to stay online until I’m disconnected when the service ends. There’s stil time…

who knows, another person might show up.”

“Is that so. … Frankly, I didn’t expect this place to stil exist.”

At this sort of moment, it was truly a good thing that there was no ability to show facial

expressions. Because if there was, one would have seen his grimace in a single glance.

Momonga closed his mouth shut to suppress the sudden surge of emotions, since they would

be revealed in his voice.

He had desperately maintained the guild because they had created it together, so it was only