Amidst the despondent contemplation of a bleak future, Murphy glanced around to discover that the demon tribe's predicament could indeed worsen. Just look at the grand halls; the demon king's palace had now transformed into a construction site and he shuddered to think what the demon tribe had become.

As a peace-advocate, Murphy initially thought he could restore the demon tribe's glory, but now he'd considered it a success, if only his subordinates didn't starve to death.

"I've more or less understood the current situation," he spoke, "Let me formally introduce myself. I am Murphy, your new Demon King from today. I hope we can get along well. All of you, being the lords of your respective tribes, must be important figures within our clans. Please introduce yourselves, starting with you," he pointed to the ogre kneeling at the edge.

"Your Majesty, what is a name?" The ogre wore a puzzled expression.

"Your Majesty, what does 'introduction' mean?" The gargoyle lord asked, all his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

[What is a self?] The colossal slime twisted its form, its message clear to all demons present.

"... Damn it，What a f**k!" Following the brief silence, Murphy exploded. The demons in this world were a darn mess! As someone saddled with this ill-fated moniker, he was indeed experiencing a bad omen. What did this place need a hero for? The tribes were blundering themselves to extinction.

Murphy had to admit, he was momentarily hopeless, feeling the urge to abandon the ridiculous name of the demon king. Humbly cross the River Styx in humility and drink its water, then start afresh. In the debate of giving up or struggling, Murphy decided to do this job well. Whether to avoid dying young, become the ruler of the world, or simply spice up a mundane existence.

Moreover, the caliber of these demons was woefully low, far below the average of this world, piquing his curiosity to determine if this was an intellectually backward world. For now, he had to sugar the pill.

"I swear on the name of Demon King Murphy Ferrers!"

"I promise to lead you to victory, and as for you fools from the demon tribe, I only have one demand of you!" The skill [Arrogance] engaged, all the lords bowed. "That is absolute obedience."

Murphy's long-awaited assertion of authority finally unfolded without any buffoon losing face. The rainbow slime on the throne liquefied again; Murphy gathered it in his hand and took his seat.

"You obey me, and I'll lead you to victory. It is a fair trade. Do not worry, my lords, my arrogance prevents me from backtracking my promise to ants."

Henry closed his eyes, relishing his grand standing. He began to sense an air of arrogance creep up on him. The power belonging to the demon king was surging within him; the title of the Demon King was more than a facade, its attributes were more than mere numerical stats, both identity and power were one. Upon opening his eyes, only [Arrogant] Demon King—Murphy Ferrers occupied the room.

"Stand up, all of you. It will take our collective effort to salvage the faltering tribe."

Even after the bewildering merger, Murphy appreciated humility, quickly reverting to his approachable demeanor and expressing his intentions: "Before we start, I believe every demon needs a name."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Fortunately, in this world's rules, there were no imagined exhaustion of magical energy upon naming a demon, making one faint. But unfortunately, Murphy was terrible at naming, and his brain was drying up.

He planned to name every member of the demon tribe, but there were legions of them. Even if he resorted to numerical sequences, it could take decades.

There was no time! The pressure was on; Murphy was genuinely frantic!

He then issued his first decree as the new Demon King:

All sentient demons must find themselves a name, and those who don't aren't good demons.

Under the influence of the skill, the Demon King's decree accurately reached the consciousness of every demon present.

A humanoid demon lord stood up and proclaimed, "Your Majesty, not all of us are so foolish as to not have been given a name. It's been a consequence of the lack of human contact over the years and the absence of a ruling demon king. My race was favored by the previous Demon King; currently, we possess the strongest foundation amongst all tribes."

He sneered at the ogre lord surreptitiously.

Murphy examined the demon: humanoid, a young man, good-looking, wearing an old suit. Tiny devil horns, a pair of wings on his waist, a small tail behind him... No need for the panel anymore!

"You're an incubus?"

"I'm the Incubus Lord, Tyre."

"You're male?"

"As you can see, Your Majesty."

"Aren't there any female incubi in this world?"

Tyre looked puzzled, realizing that the Demon King was earnestly seeking an answer. So he replied, "Of course, there are male and female incubi. Otherwise, there'd be no newborn incubi.”

Murphy realized his assumption was incorrect, he continued, "You mentioned that the incubi are well-established. Tell me more."

Thus, for the next ten minutes, Tyre explained in detail how, over ninety years of truce, the incubi had evolved from dire hunger (lacking humans to feed on their spirit energy) to self-sufficiency (feeding on their own or fellow's spirit energy), and, regardless of hard times, never crossed the line of nudity.

The new demon king greatly admired this spirit and expressed a desire to inspect the incubi's domain: "I'm visiting the incubi domain soon, after my current tasks at hand!"

By now, Murphy understood that "there are numerous ways to unroll a toilet paper roll". Since the demons' arrangement varied in different worlds, he decided it'd be best to make plans after seeing for himself. Yes, absolutely not due to personal inclination, no indeed.

Scanning the crowd, Murphy noticed for the first time that the Skeleton Lord had been scribbling onto a piece of parchment, seemingly documenting the unfolding events.

Suddenly, his eyes welled up, this was the second pleasant event of the day, only second to the realization of the female incubi's existence in this world.

In this culturally barren demon tribe, there existed such a prodigy. Recalling how the Skeleton Lord had seemed mundane ever since his arrival, Murphy was surprised by the revelation of this famed genius of culture amongst the skeletons.

Walking over, Murphy picked up the parchment, read it, his facial expression gradually twisting.

"Why are you using the common human language?" The question plaguing his heart, Murphy finally asked.

"I was educated as such when I was alive. Although those memories are hazy, I do remember some elements of the language and syntax. After my death, as a skeleton, I found no demon spoke the common demon language. Hence, upon assuming the role of the Secretary of the Demonic Lords' meeting, I've been using the common human language to document," he explained.

The sincerity of the Skeleton Lord moved Murphy, who was filled with mixed emotions. Surprisingly, the most literate figure in the demon tribe was a midlife convert to the skeleton.

"You're doing great. What's your name? If you don't have one, I'll give you one." No matter which world you're in, scarcity makes things precious, an axiom Murphy bore in mind. For the sake of such a prodigy, Murphy was willing to squeeze his own mind.

"My name is Byron. I've been dead for too long and have forgotten the rest," Skeleton Lord Byron tapped on his head, producing an empty sound.

"I hope you won't forget your name."

Murphy turned to the other lords, and after weighing his thoughts, he decided not to make his bias towards the incubi too apparent. Hence, he planned to first hear the current status of the other various Demonic Lords' domains.

"Everyone, please share the current situation in your respective demon territories."