I woke up to the sound of cheerful birdsong. They had started singing at dawn when the first rays of sunlight began to illuminate the sky. Despite the noise, I couldn't be angry with them. I turned over and fell back asleep, surrounded by their joyful melodies. It wasn't until the sun had risen higher in the sky, casting its warm rays on my skin, that I stretched and yawned, deciding I had slept enough.

I went to the window, rubbed my eyes, and saw a deer looking surprised at me from less than ten meters away. It seemed to decide that I wasn't a threat and calmly took a few steps further.

What a silly deer!

I sighed and pushed aside thoughts of a potential barbecue; I didn't have time for that. I yawned once more and headed for a cold shower. The brisk water brought my blood flowing and my mind into focus: I needed to get to school!

The next problem arose when I went to put on my leather suit and found it still riddled with holes and full of blood. A shudder ran down my spine as memories of last night's horrors flooded back: the dust, the cramped space, the rods piercing my back!

With an effort, I pushed those images aside. Memories are just memories, after all; they can't harm you, can they?

I glanced again at the holes in my suit. This is what happens when you have only one outfit for both dungeons and school!

Examining the suit, I noticed that the repair process had begun, but it wasn't yet complete. I headed to the bathroom to wash away the blood. Luckily, it worked quickly since the suit itself repelled dirt.

Once finished, I placed the suit outside on the wooden table.

"Well," I thought, "there's no use waiting for it to dry normally if I want to use it today!

Time was ticking away. I decided to treat it with its special maintenance oil. You couldn't do that with a regular leather suit, but this was my special armor; it wouldn't have any issues, and it would speed up the recovery process.

I glanced at the small oil bottle: unfortunately, I would soon run out of that oil. Maybe Cala had some in her inventory, but I didn't have access to that.

Oh well, I decided to leave that problem for another day. Vapors began to rise from the suit as the oil started to take effect.

I debated whether to wait for the process to finish but then decided to put it on.

Once dressed, I went inside and glanced at my reflection in the mirror.

It didn't look that bad; it almost seemed as if those holes had been made on purpose, and the emitted vapors were adding a really cool effect to it. A pity it would end long before I got into town! Maybe I could use this on stage sometime?

Instinctively, I identified myself: "Demon,..., level twenty-six (??????? ??????).

Oh, the same as before? Why? I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Was this something resulting from the sudden cancellation of the summon by Meowra, or was there something else? This situation had dampened my good mood, but what could I do?

Why was I disappointed? I shouldn't be! In the last summon, I did learn a new cool spell! That's so out of the ordinary that it should have been enough to make me happy, but I did learn much more! I learned how to avoid further summons! I could now live my life here undisturbed.

That catgirl must have misunderstood something. I can't imagine what was going through her mind, what she thought had happened, but who am I to fix all misunderstandings in this world? I did what I could!

Oh, well, a good breakfast should do me good! Instead of making myself a breakfast or eating some sandwiches, how about having a real good breakfast somewhere?

I stepped out of the cabin, closed the door, and climbed onto the bike. Feeling this monster between my legs brought a smile to my lips. Only a horse or a motorcycle rider can understand the feeling. It's like an extension of your own being, totally different from driving a car or riding in a coach.

As soon as I turned the key, the motor roared like a beast, frightening the little birds that had woken me up. I chuckled: take that, little birds!

The fresh air, the wind blowing through my hair, and the road winding through the beautiful woods improved my mood. It felt like I arrived much too fast down on the highway!

Just after the junction to our road, there was a small gas station on the opposite side of the highway that also had a small restaurant with a couple of tables. I decided to check it out. To save myself a dozen kilometers, I made a very illegal crossing over the highway and headed straight for that station. In my enthusiasm, I almost forgot to hide my horns.

My expectations were richly rewarded: a cheerful waitress promptly approached to take my order. I got a genius inspiration and asked:

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"I'm starving. Can you bring me food to make me forget a very shitty night?!"

She laughed.

"What's your limit?" - she asked, looking slantwise at me.

"Uhm? Fifty?"

I was no longer that broke since money was entering my account from our songs, and I wanted to give her a chance. She answered cheerfully:

"All right, that's something I can work with!"

She started with a mountain of crisp, sizzling bacon, their savory aroma filling the air, then juicy sausages, perfectly grilled, releasing bursts of flavor with every bite. There were fluffy scrambled eggs, creamy and velvety, seasoned to perfection with a hint of fragrant herbs.

Once I was done with those, golden-brown pancakes, fluffy and warm, drizzled generously with rich maple syrup followed. The syrup was glistening in the morning sunlight!

I was not finished with them when she brought another plate, a medley of fresh fruits, their vibrant colors and sweet scents tantalizing my taste buds. Succulent strawberries, ripe blueberries, and juicy slices of watermelon mingled together, creating a burst of freshness with every bite.

Of course, accompanying the feast had been a basket filled with an assortment of freshly baked pastries: buttery croissants, flaky Danish pastries filled with sweet fruit compote, and warm, cinnamon-infused muffins that crumbled deliciously in my mouth.

To wash it all down, there was a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee, its rich aroma wafting through the air, and a refreshing glass of orange juice.

"Now, that was good!" I thanked the waitress, paying the fifty dollars.

"You know, we have an all-you-can-eat buffet for twenty-five. All truckers stop here for it! I only serve the coffee. There must have been something today, as I've seen just a few so far." - she said, looking conflicted at the money.

I laughed. I glanced at her name tag.

"Well, thanks, Matilda, keep the rest, I'm happy!"

It was only then that she looked at me with that look.

"You... you're... you're... that girl from Fata Morgana! Yes, I knew I know you! Oh, I should have taken pictures of you eating that mountain of food! A selfie, please! A selfie!"

Well, shit. That girl from Fata Morgana... Still, she did recognize me! I let her take a couple of selfies, and she took some more when I got on my bike. Oh, well, the food was in a class of its own. I wonder if I should have gone inside to learn from the magic cook who made all that food?

Now this is how I like my mornings!

*

The hours in school went by as usual.

At noon, I met and chatted again with Michael during lunch. It had become a standard feature for us to meet at noon. The kid reminds me so much of Spartacius in the way he speaks and behaves, that it is hilarious. Hilarious because I was used to seeing these mimics and gestures on a twenty-something, well-endowed young man, to recognize them in this scrawny copy of him, which is actually the original.

Most of the time, we talked about Mephisto's world. He's still playing in the revamped rehearsal of the old world and updated me about it. The company was attempting to revamp one of the parallel worlds used for training as the new Mephisto World, but the experience was far from the perfection achieved previously in the real Mephisto's World. Well, I guess it's no wonder after the computer meltdown catastrophe and the loss of many servers at the time.

I asked him if he would be interested in coming with me and the band to visit Dreamland offices over the weekend, and he enthusiastically said yes. Oh, well, I'll have to talk to Hew about it. It shouldn't be a problem to add a person to the group... I hoped. I was planning to meet the boys at Matt's house in the afternoon after school, so I planned to discuss this, too.

*

As my bike weaved through the heavy afternoon traffic, I relished the warmth of the sun on my back as I headed towards Matt's house in the North-East districts. That was the only enjoyable part, though, as the heavy traffic was caused by demonstrations blocking the main roads. Even on a bike, I couldn't simply fly over the traffic.

It was a beautiful, sunny day in May, but for some reason, many people had chosen it as the perfect day for demonstrations. I heard it was somehow linked to the Bounty County and the whole shitshow surrounding it.

To avoid the blockades, I decided to cut through the slums.

The slums stretched across most of the eastern part of the town, although they weren't confined to just that area. Some referred to them as the ferallands since there was little to no police presence, with various gangs controlling the area.

The residents of these slums were mostly people living on federal grants, often derogatorily referred to as "useless eaters."

It wasn't always like this; it happened gradually and partially at first, but now these areas were officially recognized as some kind of no-man's land and simply excluded from most communal services.

The adjacent districts wanted to establish checkpoints and surround the slums with a fence, but there was always huge opposition to it based on the argument that it would be discriminatory. Interestingly enough, the same argument didn't work for wealthy districts like Sunny's, which had their own checkpoints and fences.

Well, whatever. It worked for me, as I could drive through without having to stop for ID checks and frisks at checkpoints.

The main problem with the slums was that all kinds of good-for-nothing clowns were dwelling in the lawless zone, but I trusted that I was fast and strong enough to avoid any interactions.

There was less traffic, and the streets had not been maintained in ages, so I had to drive with care to avoid huge potholes. Some manholes were missing their covers, and a general sweet-and-sour smell permeated the air—a characteristic blend of drugs and sewage odor.

Strange shops lined the streets, most of them with two tiers—one for the front and another for the backdoor, where mostly illegal trade and trafficking occurred.

The authorities had initially tried to combat these illicit activities, but in the end, they had to give up. They still conducted raids from time to time, confiscating goods and arresting people, as all this trade avoided taxes, which angered them. However, they were unable to eradicate it. Most transactions in these shops didn't involve official currency; instead, bartering was common. You had to bring something of value to exchange for another valuable item—that's how most deals worked. Food coupons or other types of entitlements were also accepted, but the prices for those were relatively low. Bringing packaged food directly fetched more value than using a coupon.

Previously, I would have avoided these areas like the plague, but now that I was more capable of defending myself, I didn't fear them as much.