#824 An Economic Undead

Back when the Lifeless King, now known as the President, was still a living human...

He was summoned to this fantasy land from another world about half a century ago, right during the period of rapid economic growth in Japan.

People back then were all about work, barely glancing sideways as they dedicated themselves to their jobs.

Since the economy was booming, the more you worked, the more tangible the rewards. 

It must have been quite fulfilling to work in such times.

The President (still mortal) was a frontline businessman, always on the move.

Even after being abruptly summoned to another world, his nature didn’t change. He swapped his business card for a sword and continued to work tirelessly.

To work. 

That was his raison d’être, his “life’s work.”

Even in death, becoming a zombie, his essence remained unchanged.

He would continue to work, and that unyielding spirit in his undead form led to him being named the President.

But what’s truly frightening about him is...!

“Where shall we work?! What shall we work on?! I want to work every minute, every second! Without even pausing to breathe!!!”

Look at that zest toward work.

“Yes, that’s what made him a match for us, the Three Wise Lifeless Kings. Lord Saint, why do you think people work in the first place?”

I pondered silently before answering Sensei’s question.

“Isn’t it... to earn money?”

People need money to live. Work is the means to earn it.

And to earn that money, they must work—a grind, so to speak.

In other words, to work is to live.

But then, I feel like something’s amiss.

“Yes, we Lifeless Kings are undead... We are already dead. Being dead, there’s no need to live, hence no need to make an effort to survive the day... Work should be irrelevant to us.”

Those who are freed from the effort of living are the undead.

However, there exists a Lifeless King who is still bound by what should be a thing of the past.

That is the President, a skeleton Lifeless King in a business suit.

“You know, I was surprised when I became an immortal being. First off, the undead don’t die! Already dead, naturally! What do you think happens then?”

“Uh...”

What an enthusiastic undead he is.

“First, no need to eat! No need to sleep! Both are functions for maintaining life, so they mean nothing to me, who’s already dead! What happens then, in light of my workaholic nature?”

What does happen?

“No need to rest! No weekends required! No need to clock out! I can work 24 hours!”

...

Wait.

Isn’t there something fundamentally wrong with this premise?

“Furthermore, I don’t even need a salary! Undead don’t need to eat since we’re no longer alive, so what would I even do with money? I don’t need a salary or time off; I can work endlessly! Is there anything more fantastic than that? No, there isn’t!”

I almost nodded along with his emphatic argument, but...

That’s not right, is it?

There’s a flaw in that logic, right?

This sense of something fundamentally off...

If you’re already dead, you don’t have to work.

That’s the crux of it.

Yet, the President, who should be freed from this necessity, dedicates himself solely to work, making him a truly fearsome being. 

His peculiar horror could indeed rival that of the Three Wise Lifeless Kings...!

“I have a dream.”

He continues talking even though no one asked...?

“To work, one must have an employment goal. I plan to unite with those who share my vision, establish a company, and create a unique undead enterprise! Isn’t it wonderful? A company where all employees are undead, needing no breaks, no wages, no benefits! A cozy workplace!!!”

A pitch-black ‘cozy’ atmosphere, if you ask me.

Listening to him, I began to understand the President’s “terror” that Belphgamilia mentioned.

A zombie that works without the need for the efforts of living.

What happens then is that employing zombies for work means no labor costs.

After all, mobilizing people in the world is one of the most expensive endeavors.

The undead, who don’t need money to live, don’t require financial compensation.

And since they don’t need rest, there’s no need for breaks or holidays.

They can work thousands of consecutive shifts.

No human can compete with such productivity. 

It’s better than slavery in terms of cost-effectiveness.

What if the President brings such a zombie company into the human market?

Completely cut the most expensive labor costs.

Operate 24/7 without breaks.

Existing businesses would be outcompeted and driven out.

Human industries would wither, leaving a world run by zombies for humans to simply ride along.

At first, it might seem fine.

Delegating bothersome work to the dead, the living could laze around as they pleased.

But can the human spirit endure a life without goals or challenges?

A stagnant mind slowly rots.

Eventually, the body ages, decays, and upon demise, one becomes an undead, joining that eternal labor force...

“Doesn’t this sound kind of dystopic?!”

Terrifying! A horrifying future awaits us!

So, this is the essence of the terror that the President holds, rivaling even the Three Wise ones?!

“In a sense, he might be the Lifeless King most capable of influencing human society. Work is also seen as a form of service, after all.”

“And at the core of his actions is nothing but goodwill. To him, work is a virtuous act, and objectively, it often is, so we can’t easily stop him.”

“If he had obvious malice like a certain Emperor, he’d be easier to stop.”

“That kind would be swiftly met with divine retribution.”

“Agreed.”

Sensei and Belphgamilia converse heartily.

President, the Lifeless King, is an undead spreading the goodwill of work, leading to a stagnant dystopia.

It’s a crisis for the world as it stands...!

“But why has such a dangerous being been allowed to roam free until now? Considering his work ethic, the President’s share could have already been 100% of the world, right?”

“That’s thanks to the young lad over there,” says Sensei, pointing to Belphgamilia.

Belphgamilia scratches his nose sheepishly and says, “During my wanderings, I happened to meet the President. I immediately realized how dangerous he was, trembling at the thought. So, I devised a plan and offered him a ‘never-ending job.’“

A never-ending job...?!

“In the northernmost part of the Demon Kingdom lies a vast desert. It’s big enough to fit a whole territory. That’s where I met him.”

― “Wowwww, if only someone could count all the sand grains in these dunes. That would be SUCH a big helpppp.”

― “Is there no one to take on this job, I wonder...”

So he said.

“The work-loving President fell for it hook, line, and sinker. To this day, he’s been counting sand grains for decades on that forsaken, bewitched desert.”

“A clever trick by the young lad. On a dune, the wind blows, and new sand flows in as the old is whisked away. The counting would never end.”

For those who can think of nothing but work, giving them a task that’s neither harmful nor beneficial can be a way to waste their efforts harmlessly.

Thanks to that, our world has managed to stay peaceful until now.

“Well, being a natural-born slacker like me does have its perks. I could instantly sense the President’s potential danger. Plus, my training under the Sage helped. Anyone else new to the sight of a Lifeless King would’ve probably freaked out and run away first thing…”

In that sense, it was incredibly fortunate that Belphgamilia found the President. 

Truly a savior’s deed.

But now, the President, having abandoned his task of counting sand grains, stands right before us.

...Is it my fault? 

Did I inadvertently speak of labor, luring him here with its scent?

If things continue as they are, the President, freed from the shackles of his sand-counting task, might just bring human society to ruin.

This is my responsibility...!

I must stop the President with my own hands!