Chapter 38

  Now it was my turn to lose my fucking mind. This was terrifying. Pure chaos. Heavy metal spears flew in all directions at insane speeds. Streets were blanketed in green poison clouds, with dozens of demons coughing up their lungs. On one side, an icy tornado raged, leaving frozen statues in its wake. On another, a sandstorm tore through, effortlessly stripping demons’ tough skin and muscles. A few hundred demons were slaughtered by a small group in mere seconds. These guys are on some god-tier level. Like a hyper-elite spec ops team compared to the rest. No point even trying to fight them.

  - Sorry, sir.

  - What’s up, Riz?

  - It’s about your order. I can’t follow it.

  - What? Why? Tired of killing?

  - No, that’s not it. The Lord ordered me to kill no more than a hundred demons a day to avoid screwing up the population. So I have to count every one I kill.

  - Do what you want…

  - Thank you, sir.

  The demon walked off but came back twenty seconds later.

  - I’ve already hit a hundred.

  - Then stay put.

  - Thank you, sir. Also… it’s getting chilly. Could you…?

  - Oh, right, of course… Ulrik’s going wild again. We need to put a cap on him too.

  Ash waved his hand, and a massive crystal dome formed around us. Suddenly, amidst the chaos, there was absolute silence. The shift was so jarring my ears rang. The vibe was weird. The air reeked of a bittersweet stench of death mixed with sulfur. Body parts littered the ground. The earth shook from the wild magic attacks outside. Meanwhile, Ash was excitedly inspecting me from every angle, ignoring it all. He got right up in my face. Patted my cheeks. Counted my teeth. Tapped my horns. Yanked my hair. I was scared he’d gouge out my eyes, but he held back. Then he made a small cut on my cheek and tasted my blood.

  - Riz, you got a level chart?

  - Yes, here you go.

  I stayed quiet the whole time, clueless about what to expect from this researcher. This whole situation was freaking me out. I’d already been a demon’s training dummy—only thing missing from my collection was being their lab rat. Oh, and don’t forget victim of demonic gang rape with power tools! Thanks, imagination. You’re welcome. Call me anytime. I could also— Shut up!

  - Fascinating… Half-demon?!... Level seventy-one, slave. Hm… Hm… Concentration, sensitivity… Interesting. Mana control, thinking? Endurance. Oh… lightning. Not bad… Martyr and demon slayer. As I thought, you’re a demon slayer. Whoa, even Death’s Breath? At level seventy-one? You’re a dangerous guy.

  - Nah, I’m harmless as a butterfly in a spring garden.

  - First time in my life I’ve seen this race. Half-demon… How? You can’t be half a demon. Were you born like this? No, you were human. You came here as training fodder. Your specialty and martyr title say so. From the title, I’d guess you’ve been here over five years. (uh, no, I saved up for a couple of years) And the demon slayer title means you’ve killed about a thousand demons. Stunning! The weakest doggos are level one hundred. Your current level says you started crazy low. How’d you pull it off? And that’s not all. After you got the title, everyone lost their shit. No surprise there. Most of these demons haven’t felt bloodlust in ages, and their brains are scraping the bottom. Yet you escaped them. Incredible. Lucky I was passing by.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  - Lucky’s an understatement… Didn’t think my whole story could fit in one paragraph.

  - Escaping captivity, disguising as a demon, killing a thousand stronger creatures… You must’ve been born the gods’ favorite.

  - Awesome. Now it’s one sentence. “Born the gods’ favorite.” Those gods are probably busy pulling legs off beetles right now.

  - But the big question: how’d you change your race?

  - It’s a real pain in the ass.

  - I’m all ears.

  - So, when I fell off that cliff, I… Wait, why am I telling you this?

  - ‘Cause I asked.

  - Holy na?veté. What’s in it for me?

  - Nothing.

  - Ha! Fuck off. I ain’t saying shit.

  - You stingy or what?

  - No way… Why should I do anything for free?

  - ‘Cause it could solve our problems. Sure, the Lord’s nearly broken the magic holding us, but not all demons can leave. Honestly, that magic can’t be fully destroyed—just weakened. We don’t tell the others to avoid chaos. Demons below roughly level two hundred can’t leave. That’s a big hit to our forces. But if they change race, like you, the magic affects them less. That’s my theory.

  - So you want me to help you wipe out humanity?

  - Uh… Kinda awkward to ask, but yeah.

  - Fuck off. And if you’re such an altruist, doesn’t the mess outside the dome bug you?

  - Nah, I don’t give a shit about these dumb redneck thugs.

  - Got it. I’m enjoying the show too, but I’m not helping you for free.

  - Damn… I wanted to play nice. Hate doing this… Riz, make him talk. Here’s his legs.

  Suddenly, my legs were free again. Riz gave my cubic armor a light shove, and I fell on my back. That painfully familiar grin spread across his face.

  - Don’t bother. I don’t feel pain.

  - Seriously?

  - How you think I escaped?

  - How? Spill.

  - For three years, I… Oh, you sneaky bastard. Not falling for that again.

  - Riz?

  - Yes, sir.

  The demon started slicing my skin with his claws. I just yawned widely.

  - For real… Is that a race trait? No… It’s skills… Concentration and sensitivity. I’ve only seen that combo in myself. It lets you detach and better sense attributes. But lightning’s attack magic—you can only generate it. Weird stuff. Also, never seen a “thinking” skill. What’s it do?

  - Trigonometry.

  - What’s that?

  - The science of triangles.

  - What? A whole science for triangles? What’s there to study?

  - Yeah, I thought that too once. Basically, it helps solve complex problems.

  - Hm… As I figured. But… I need to know how you became a half-demon.

  - Alright, you let me out, and I’ll lay it all out.

  - Honest answer: that’s impossible. Doubly so for you.

  - Why?

  - First, the Lord forbade it.

  - That’s temporary. Look around—there’s no reason for the ban anymore.

  - True, but second: you’re a slave. That seal on your chest isn’t just for show. It’ll kill you if you try to escape.

  - Kill me?

  - To death.

  - Like, completed death?

  - Yup, deadly death.

  - No chance at all?

  - None.

  - Not even a tiny bit?

  - Nope.

  - A teeny-tiny sliver?

  - Sorry…

  And that’s it… Done… My shattered hopes turned to dust, scattered into the void, and annihilated. Life’s shit. No way out. Now what? Accept it? Or just come out swinging? Sounds so easy. But it takes real guts to end it all. Not sure I’ve got that in me. And in this position, I don’t know if I could even do it physically. So what? Do nothing? What can I do? Ugggh… This is such bullshit.

  - Although… There’s one option. – Ash said suddenly. – Few know, but there’s a portal that can get you out. Local magic doesn’t affect it. Problem is, no one’s figured out how it works. I’ve tried for centuries, no luck. To activate it, you need to decipher ancient inscriptions and use them with the machine.

  - What? What machine?

  - It’s been here forever. It activates the portal. At least, that’s what the Lord said. There’s a seat in front of it, and if you open the lid, you’ll see ancient inscriptions and a bunch of buttons that make weird noises when pressed. The Lord said you need to press them in the right order. And you need imagination or something like that. I’m guessing your thinking skill could help decipher it. Maybe that’s what the Lord meant. So, what do you say? Help each other out?

  (Is he talking about a laptop?…)

  - Look… I get it, asking me to help destroy humanity is a bit…

  - I’m in! Kill those idiots quick, and let’s go! Screw ‘em! Let’s roll now! The only IT guy in this world wants to go hoooome!