The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

Snick never dreamed that he, just a goblin from the lowest rung of the goblin community—insignificant like coal slag falling beside a mine cart—would be personally promoted by Lord Demon King after a single remark at the Lord's council, transforming him into an "official"—

Although he's just a pea-sized official, the director of the community committee in the goblin community.

Even so, this news stirred quite a ripple within the goblin community.

The goblins who once scrambled and crawled through the mud with him now respectfully address him as "director." Even those bigwigs who once looked down on him have had to reevaluate his worth, some even trying to cozy up to him.

The title "director" sounds formidable, but in reality, the committee's work is anything but easy.

Apart from checking and repairing basic facilities, he's responsible for community security, organizing security patrols, mediating various petty squabbles between goblins, and even devising seemingly "proper" development plans to display the professionalism of community self-governance.

And that's not all.

Beyond these daily chores, Snick received a task directly deployed by Lord Demon King—

As the community committee director, he must do everything possible to unite the entire goblin community, conduct a full census, and label all new goblins and suspicious figures.

To this end, Luo Yan specially allocated funds, allowing Snick to develop his "lower line" under the guise of organizing community events.

In other words, little brothers.

Gazing at the funding voucher in his hand, Snick's eyes sparkled with unprecedented light, so excited that his hands trembled.

He never imagined that there would come a day when he could touch and grasp "power" with both hands!

He could use the funds to host a barbecue festival, attracting more goblins to participate in community affairs; he could undertake construction projects within the community, cultivating a loyal group of subordinates; he might even treat at the goblin tavern, exchanging a glass of beer for intelligence and a barrel for little brothers!

This is not merely a "pea-sized official" position; it's an opportunity to climb upwards!

More importantly, he realized that Lord Demon King wouldn't promote him just to repair a few water pumps or mediate some goblin quarrels but to prepare for some "grand affair."

—But just what grand affair could it be?

Snick stroked his chin, eyes flickering.

He vaguely felt this wasn't just simple "community management."

Nevertheless, no matter what grand plan Lord Demon King might have, the top priority Snick faced was dealing with the community committee's office space.

Fortunately, this was quickly resolved.

On his first day in office, his flattering lackeys found him a marvelous treasure.

It was a ramshackle, overturned wagon on the roadside.

This wagon, abandoned by some unlucky soul, was half-buried in the mud near a sewer in Black Wind Castle, dug out by a gang of homeless goblins, and modified into a spot barely capable of sheltering against wind and rain. Then Snick's lackeys bought it.

Now, there was a crooked wooden sign hanging on the wagon's exterior, with awkwardly scrawled letters in charcoal reading: "Goblin Community Self-Governance Committee."

Of course, excluding Snick himself, probably no one knows exactly what this place is supposed to do, given how abstract those words are written.

Yet, this doesn't prevent him from swaggering around with his little chest puffed out, patrolling daily in front of the "office" and accepting the complex gazes thrown by nearby goblins—whether envious, suspicious, or merely curious.

After all, in the goblin world, the concept of "being an official" usually exists only in legends; most Lords prefer letting Hell Dwarves manage them, rather than having them manage themselves.

If it weren't that the goblins in Black Wind Castle were too numerous, and Hell Dwarves had angered the Lord due to their drinking, this community director position would never have fallen to a small fry like Snick.

Well—

Our new official showed his shortcomings just a day into his tenure.

On Snick's second day in office, his office soon welcomed the first official "case" of the goblin community.

The cause was simple—two goblins fought fiercely over the ownership of a roasted rat.

If they weren't equally matched, they probably would've settled the score right away without resorting to the community office.

"He stole my dinner!"

"Nonsense, I saw it first!"

"Nonsense! It was still crawling on the ground when you saw it!"

"But you can't seize my prey!"

"Which eye of yours saw it was yours?!"

"Look at my eye!"

The two goblins gesticulated wildly before Snick, pointing to their bruised faces and snarling at each other.

Snick sat solemnly behind his "desk"—and that so-called desk was actually just a piece of wooden plank salvaged from a trash heap, propped on two stones.

He raised a hand to press his forehead, cleared his throat, and put on a look of "naturally commanding" authority.

It was a look he learned from Lord Demon King.

Of course, to avoid being accused of overstepping by other goblins, he would never admit it to anyone.

"Ahem, I say, you two—fighting over a rat, really? Look at yourselves, you've swollen your faces; isn't that bad? Instead of wasting time, why not go work in a factory? Buy a rat with an hour's wages—that's pretty easy, right? Isn't that making sense to you?"