Near the bakery, multiple demons surrounded Laid's unconscious form, shocked at the sight. A demon flying out of the sky and smashing into the ground was unusual—no one in the demon city possessed that much power. Unless this demon had somehow crossed someone powerful, which seemed likely, this shouldn't have happened.
"Should we do something?" one demon asked, stepping forward to peer down at the crater where Laid lay.
"Of course we should do something, unless you're some deranged demon who doesn't care about other demons, and if that's the case—" The demon stopped himself. "All right then, let's take him to the chamber. After all, don't we lay every demon we find in critical condition there? Or is this guy too special for the chamber or something?"
"Be quiet," another demon hissed. "You do know the other demons are around."
The other two quickly shut their mouths.
"Exactly. Just pick him up. We'll take him to the chamber if that's what must be done."
All three demons lifted Laid from the crater and carried him behind the bakery. One demon placed his hand on the ground, muttering to himself, "I hope my power is still sufficient." He pressed harder and harder until the ground finally broke apart, revealing a large chamber with multiple beds, chairs, and other furnishings. Still holding Laid, all three leaped down inside.
They landed in the chamber without a sound. The stone floor remained undented, and the unconscious figures on the beds didn't stir.
"There's a free bed over by the left," one demon said.
"It's by him," another whispered, pointing to a young black-haired boy who wore a hoodie with a sword lying beside him.
"Are we sure we should do this? What if he wakes up?"
"I doubt that boy will wake up. We nearly found him dead. I'm sure this kid will be fine lying beside him."
The other two sighed. "Fine, but if this kid dies, it's not on us."
The logical one smiled. "You're right—it's on me, since I suggested this."
The demon walked over and placed Laid beside the young black-haired boy, who strangely lacked red eyes. Usually demons had red eyes, with some exceptions for outcasts. This boy didn't even possess a demon's aura, which shocked the three demons, though they didn't dwell on it.
They positioned Laid beside the boy and stood up in unison.
"Now that that's over with," one demon said, "I believe we should take our leave. If one of them wakes up, we'll be notified by our staff."
The other two nodded.
"Yes, but where exactly would we go? You said we're leaving and will be notified when either demon wakes, but where are we supposed to go? You just want us to wander around? That doesn't seem ideal."
Dame sighed. "Look, I get you're the more logical one of us three, but can you just listen to me for a moment?"
"I can't listen to either of you, to be honest. I don't even know why I have you along with me. You're just—" He paused, and those words made both of them freeze. "Dead weight," Dame said. "That's exactly what you are. I promise you, I could handle this way better if it were just me. I only have you for protection, but as soon as I get strong enough to defend myself, I'll kick you to the dirt. And frankly, just because I'm saying this doesn't mean you can back talk me, because you forget—my only defensive move allows me to easily remove your blood and absorb it into mine, making me stronger. The reason I haven't done this is because I need you both for protection against enemies too powerful for me to handle. But when you come in handy for that, I recommend you not leave."
Both of them shuddered. They didn't want their blood taken, and they definitely didn't want this young demon to grow stronger—they had no idea what would happen then. Yes, Dame was smart, but something was wrong with him. He was cold, showing empathy only for demons who deserved it. If they left, they feared he would become a menace they couldn't stop.
"We're staying here for the rest of the day," Dame announced. "Any objections?"
Both shook their heads. "No, sir," they said in unison.
Dame smiled. "Amazing. Now, I've prepared some beds for us to sleep in. Follow me."
They followed Dame out of the medical room and down several corridors. The entire underground area resembled a mansion—they marveled at Dame's work, building such a magnificent structure entirely from stone. He led them to a large room with three beds not made of stone.
"Now," Dame said as he sat on one of the beds, "if any of you wish to sleep here, I won't stop you. If you wish to go into any other area besides the kitchen, you'll need my permission. If you go without it, well—I'll leave that to your imagination."
Hours later, while nearly everyone slept, Maine got up. "All right, I know I'll go in one of those rooms without his permission. Still, he's asleep—he won't notice anything."
Dame moved. Maine quickly ducked. "I'm speaking way too loud. I must keep my voice quiet. I can't afford to get caught."
He stood back up and quietly left the room, walking down several corridors until he found what he sought—the invention room where Dame spent most of his days. He grasped the door handle and slowly opened it. Surprisingly, it wasn't locked.
This was terribly suspicious. Why wasn't the door locked? He could just walk in as if nothing was wrong. This made him stop and reconsider, but he'd gone too far now. He couldn't turn back.
He walked into the room. What lined it was shocking—multiple inventions the demon race had never seen before filled every corner. Every single one could revolutionize the demon city, and all of it was accessible to him. He could take some, make a profit, sell them off for hundreds, maybe thousands of demon stones, perhaps even a few demon cores if he was lucky. His eyes shined with greed. He knew Dame was asleep.
He walked forward to grab one of the inventions, but before he could, he heard someone behind him.
"Remember what I said."
Maine's body went stiff. His hand froze inches from the invention. Behind him, footsteps echoed across the stone floor—slow, deliberate, predatory. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Maine's breath caught in his throat as he felt something cold press against the back of his neck.
"I did warn you," Dame's voice whispered, closer than Maine had expected. "I told you what would happen if you entered without permission. I left it to your imagination, didn't I?"
Maine's heart hammered against his ribs. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The pressure against his neck intensified.
"So tell me, Maine," Dame continued, his voice carrying an edge sharper than any blade, "did your imagination prepare you for this?"