I was irritated.
Fuming.
Utterly enraged.
In my room, the vessel—King of Heroes Gilgamesh—was seething with unparalleled fury. A maddening itch coursed through, deeply unsettling.
The anger from seeing that "Lev" was nothing compared to this. If rage could kill, one or two would already be dead.
And then—
"…"
Snap. The king's patience shattered.
"What is this bucket!?" Gilgamesh roared, his thunderous voice echoing in the soundproofed room.
"Olga Marie, you fool!"
"Eek! King of Heroes, what—argh!?"
His furious bellow startled Olga Marie, who was maintaining Chaldea's lifelines. Overwhelmed by his intensity, she nearly fainted twice, her face flushed as she wailed in panic.
"My patience, deeper than the sea, has limits! You've got nerve to incur my wrath!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'M SORRY! But, but, but—!"
…Oh no, I realize.
Driven by the vessel's rage, I stormed out—completely naked, fresh from a bath.
Olga Marie fainted again.
Huff… I take a deep breath, sitting to quell the anger.
"To lose myself… my apologies, Marie. Laugh it off," I say.
Olga Marie, pale and trembling, looks more despairing than when pulled toward Chaldeas. How terrifying was that?
"Lev, Lev, help… I'm gonna die…" she mutters.
"Hah! My bare form is too potent for mortals—near poison. My golden physique is fearsome!" I chuckle.
What sparked this fury? The room's sheer austerity. The king's vast patience gave out in five seconds.
"Threadbare cloth that barely covers! A pillow that assaults the skull! Stained, tasteless walls! Fine, those are trivial!"
"But unforgivable—the bathing space! Worse than a livestock pen! How does one cleanse there? As outrageous as that fool who called treasures filth!"
The vessel spits venom. I found it decent enough, but… others might not.
"But, but… Chaldea's not a resort! Funds went to Chaldeas and Sheba!" Olga Marie stammers.
"Mongrel! Don't boast of wealth exhausted on a lofty observatory!" I snap. "A facility thrives on its people! Neglect their mental care, and no organization prospers!"
"Y-Yes!" she squeaks.
I pity Olga Marie, caught in the vessel's rare storm. The design's likely her father's or grandfather's doing, not hers. Even to my mundane eyes, the equipment's barebones—built for minimal function, cost-cutting evident.
In peacetime, fine. But now, each staff member carries humanity's future. Overworking like manga artists chugging energy drinks will lead to burnout or worse.
High performance stems from quality rest. I genuinely want to help.
No—I'll do something. The world outside is hell until humanity's incineration ends. Why not build a paradise here?
"Olga Marie, give me Chaldea's blueprints," I demand.
"B-Blueprints? What are you planning…?" she asks warily.
"I, who designed Uruk's fortress city, am the Architect King!"
"Show them your brilliance!"
From that day, Gilgamesh spearheaded a complete overhaul of Chaldea's living conditions.
First, I reviewed the staff roster to gauge numbers. Distributed surveys to grasp preferences, pulling corresponding treasures from my vault. Replaced shoddy supplies with top-tier items—feather bedding, memory foam pillows. Rooms got carpets, walls tailored to individual tastes.
Space constraints limited room size, so I created portals to separate dimensions. Showers became lavish bathrooms, styled after Uruk's lamassu statues. Libraries gained direct data access for audio and TVs, with auto-playing sleep music. Hammocks, quilts, or beds were assigned per request, treasures installed accordingly.
Food was next. Kitchen equipment swapped for gleaming ancient tools. Drink and soup bars installed, tables draped with cloths that conjure any dish—Japanese, Western, Chinese, all covered. Machines dispensed personalized menus, emphasizing nutrition, with guides distributed. Non-compliance meant daily green juice punishment.
Sweets were overseen by Roman, inspired by his Japan trip. He'd nail the perfect treats.
"Sweets buffet on your dime? Score! Brain food galore!" Roman cheers.
"Fail to perform, and face judgment. This is an investment in your journey!" I warn.
"I'm on it! Everyone's thrilled—you're so generous!" he exclaims.
"I'm the uncompromising king! Nothing satisfies unless it meets my standards!"
"Keep up!"
No one's doing anything wrong, so I let it slide. Trapped in Chaldea, fighting on, they deserve some indulgence without decadence.
Chaldea's transformation continued under the king's wrathful renovation, morphing into a supreme resort, obliterating staff burdens. Upon completion, staff wept with joy.
"Is this luxury okay?"
"I'm staying in Chaldea forever!"
"We'll save humanity!"
"Long live King Gilgamesh!"
Their cheers filled the snowy peak.
To use this Chaldea resort, one contract was required: "Complete humanity's restoration."
From then, Chaldea's efficiency skyrocketed tenfold. Staff volunteered for extra shifts, perfectly adhering to Olga Marie's schedules, forming a disciplined unit.
Gilgamesh bore all costs, delegating management to Da Vinci-chan, hired with a lapis lazuli barrage.
Thus was born the ultimate leisure observatory, Chaldea, outshining any resort.
"Hahaha! This is bathing! Not quite Waku Waku Zabuun, but good enough! My golden rule knows no impossibility!" Gilgamesh laughs, soaking in his private dimensional bathhouse.
"Once done, Chaldea joins my treasury!"
I imagine Olga Marie's strained smile and Da Vinci stifling laughter, with Ritsuka and Mash savoring meals, Roman munching sweets.
"I am the supreme luxury king! 'Impossible' doesn't exist!"
The king's laughter rings out.
His mood's improved—good, good.
Chaldea's a fine place, come on by!
Self-funded travel, no life guarantees.
Those with grit to save humanity, warmly welcome!