Thanks to Joseph and Maria, I’m finally out of the hospital. Right now, I’m resting in the backseat with Maria, while Joseph and Sebastian are up front. My head’s still spinning, with a little nausea kicking in too. All I can think about is that Azazel guy—he’s got to be totally unhinged. And dragging Maria or Joseph into this? No way. We’re not family, and our friendship is still in that budding stage. They’re here for the good times, sure, but who’s to say they’d be around for the bad ones? The last thing I need is them saying, “A stalker? Ely, I’m out—don’t want to be next,” or, “A stalker? Handle it yourself.”

All my problems, I’m blaming Azazel. That stalker guy and his so-called research have been the root of all my headaches lately. His over-the-top declaration of love—please, like that’s even real—was just the beginning. Obviously, he wasn’t feeling a thing.

And the ultimate insult: calling me a guinea pig. Seriously? A guinea pig?! I’m not some experiment for his twisted entertainment. Just the thought of it makes my blood boil.

But I swear, “I’m going to make Azazel regret having treated me that way. Somehow.” I whisper unconsciously

“Excuse me?” Joseph’s voice breaks in, sounding curious. “I couldn’t hear you, Elysia.”

“Oh, nothing. Just… are we almost there?”

“Yes, Ms. Elysia.” Sebastian answers my question

Sebastian pipes up with a mischievous grin. “Only respectful for Mr. Joseph’s new partner.”

Joseph chokes, coughing wildly. “Sebastian! Don’t go saying inappropriate things!”

“Apologies, Mr. Joseph. And Ms. Elysia, I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble.”

“No worries,” I reply, feeling my cheeks heat up.

As we near my neighborhood, my stomach tightens. The thought of Azazel lurking around has me uneasy. What if he really is crazy, and all this time I’ve been dealing with someone with a serious screw loose?

“Ely, you seem off,” Maria says, her gaze warm with concern. “Is something bothering you?”

“Just tired, that’s all. I can’t wait to get home and sleep a bit more.”

“We’re here, Elysia.” Joseph’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and as I step out, I glance at my apartment building, thinking that maybe Azazel is lurking around.

Joseph and Sebastian help me to my door, despite my protests. “You really don’t have to, I’m feeling fine now,” I assure them.

Joseph gives a light chuckle. “What kind of gentleman would I be, leaving such a delicate flower to fend for herself?”

I roll my eyes, but smile. “Thanks…”

With a wave, I say goodbye and watch them pull away, the car’s hum fading. Once they’re gone, my nerves resurface. If Azazel knows they’ve left, he could show up any second. I shove a chair against the door, add the chain lock, and survey my makeshift barricade.

“He doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt me,” I mutter, frowning. But it’s hard to tell with that look in his eyes—half joker, half danger. He’s like a wildcard.

“No,” I whisper. My safety could be at stake, and I should probably call the police, just in case. Quietly, I slip into the bathroom to muffle the sound and dial the emergency number, heart pounding as the line rings.

Finally, a voice answers. “Police department. How can I help?”

“Hi, yes—there’s someone stalking me,” I whisper urgently. “He’s my neighbor, and I don’t feel safe. I really need someone to come check it out.”

There’s a pause. “Miss, we understand, but just because you share the same path to the building doesn’t necessarily mean he’s stalking you.”

“No, you don’t understand! He’s dangerous!”

“Has he hit you? Made any threats?”

“Well… not exactly, but—”

“Then what’s he done?”

“He told me he’s a demon lord!” I blurt, frustration rising. “And he’s got this intense look—like he’s not normal! I don’t know, he could be a killer. I’m not safe!”

Silence stretches on the other end, then the officer sighs. “Ma’am, with all due respect, I’m strong too. Doesn’t make me a demon lord. And my boss may be grumpy, but that doesn’t make him a murderer. Please don’t waste our time with pranks. We have real emergencies to handle.”

Before I can protest, the line goes dead.

I sigh, glancing at my phone screen. “I guess I really can’t count on anyone else for this.”

But if I somehow defeated him… would it even be enough? What can I do? He’s stronger, a sneaky stalker extraordinaire, and with his skills he somehow found me at the hospital. This guy is on another level.

Think. Think, Elysia. Think!

My mind is blank.

Ugh, I can’t believe I’m actually considering this… but there’s really only one person I can call for “advice.” Someone I vowed never to contact again. Family is family, my mom always said, though Aunt Chi is… well… annoying, nosy, and a little… overly theatrical. But I’ve got no choice now.

I unblock her number and hit “Call,” immediately regretting it but a little talking can’t be so bad, can it?.

The phone rings, and the time goes but soon she answers the phone.

“Little Ely?!” She’s instantly sobbing—oh boy. “Ohhh, you called me!”

“Yes, Aunt Chi, it’s me,” I say, trying not to roll my eyes.

A loud sniffle. “Y-you blocked me!” she wails, as if it’s the end of the world.

“No point in denying it now,” I murmur. And before I can say anything else, she’s launched into a passionate speech about family and how family is the only real support and family will always be there, unlike friends who disappear the minute things get hard and so on. I endure every single word, nodding along to my empty room.

“Aunt Chi, I’m sorry I blocked you,” I finally say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “But you keep meddling in everything! It drives me nuts. I have problems, too, okay? Like, rent, work—”

“Oh, honey, that’s no excuse!” She’s sniffling again. “You’re my precious niece, the only thing that reminds me of my dear sister.”

"Thanks, Aunt Chi. If I'm calling, it's because I need some advice," I say, trying to hide the nervous edge in my voice.

"Little Ely! What's going on? Is it about a couple problems? Or perhaps—"

"Aunt Chi, please listen!" I cut her off, feeling my patience thin.

"Okay, okay. But don't raise your voice like that, alright? Fury can make you age, you know."

"Aunt Chi!" I can't help but snap back, my voice getting louder despite my attempts to stay calm.

"Okay, okay, fine," she relents with a dramatic sigh. "What's going on?"

I take a deep breath. "I have a friend, and well, this friend—" I hesitate. Talking about this feels like I’m opening a box of worries I don’t want to deal with. "She told me she’s being stalked by someone. What should she do?"

"Ohh," Aunt Chi’s tone changes immediately, now serious. "I see. So, she’s a potential target of a crime. In other words, is this stalker a threat to her? Could he hurt her?"

"I... I don’t know. She’s not sure, but she feels unsafe. she called the police, but they said there’s not enough evidence to do anything. They said it’s just... just an 'uncomfortable situation.' So they won’t act."

I can hear Aunt Chi pause for a moment, processing what I’ve said. "That’s tough," she finally responds. "But she can move out of her place, right? I mean, her safety should be more important than anything."

I wince, unable to hide my frustration. "But she can't just leave her life behind like that, Aunt Chi. She has a job, friends, a life she’s built. You can’t just ask someone to throw all that away."

"How can she call that 'life' when she’s being stalked?" Aunt Chi insists, a sharp edge creeping into her voice.

I bite my lip, fighting back the urge to shout. "So, what, you think she should just run away from everything and everyone because of some guy? And what if he follows her to another city? What then? Should she keep running forever?"

"Well, honey, if the police aren't helping, what else is there to do? Sometimes, we don’t have control over things like this." She sighs again. "She might have a family who can help, maybe move in with them. She shouldn't be so proud to ask for help."

I can hear the concern in her voice, but it only makes me more upset. "She’s not being proud, Aunt Chi! She just wants a real solution! Not to be treated like some fragile thing that’s just gonna break."

Aunt Chi chuckles softly. "Little Ely, you really do have a big, heavy character. Your voice right now—honestly, it could scare anyone."

A give a moment of silent, an idea comes to my mind

"Scare the stalker... that sounds logical," I say, a little too dryly.

"Haha, honey, I was joking. You can’t solve everything with just force. Tell your friend to leave that place, maybe go to her parent's house for a bit, until things calm down."

"No, Aunt Chi, I think I can handle this." My chest tightens as I say the words.

"What? Ely, you—" Aunt Chi starts, but before she can finish, I hung up.

I grip the phone tighter, heart pounding. Moving out is not the solution, I won’t live in fear. I’ll figure this out. If Azazel is watching me, I’ll confront him. The only way to make him stop is to face him head-on.

"Well, since I have time, I might as well check the stack of mail that piled up during my absence," I mumble, rifling through the envelopes with half-hearted interest.

Pay the electric bill by next week. Water bill’s due soon. Yeah, nothing surprising there. At least I don't have to worry about work next—

"Day..." My voice breaks, and my heart lurches. My eyes widen as the dreaded realization hits.

"Nooo..." I whisper, then louder, "Nooo!" I collapse to the floor in melodramatic agony, clutching my head and groaning. "I remember now! Boss Raian fired me over text!"

I clutch my chest, feeling the agony all over again. I do have a doctor’s note! This isn’t the time to wallow—Azazel hasn’t come knocking yet. Maybe he’s lost interest. Maybe he’s busy stalking someone else. Gross, but good for me. I have to make a run for it.

I shove the chair I’d propped against the door out of the way and peek outside. Coast clear. Taking a deep breath, I slip out of my apartment, knowing full well what’s at stake. If I can’t get my job back, I'll have to live with Aunt Chi. Terrifying thought.

Desperate, I dial Joseph’s number for a ride, but of course, he doesn’t answer. "Oh, you’re so getting guilt-tripped later," I grumble, already imagining my revenge. But right now, I have no time to dwell.

With no trains running and a taxi out of my budget, running is my only option. I take off down the street, feeling the suffocating humidity wrap around me.

Sweat drips from my forehead. My arms, my legs, even my hair—everything’s sticky and gross. My clothes cling to me, and my legs ache, but I keep pushing forward.

Then, as if the universe pities me, I spot a miracle: a bike, sitting there without a padlock.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"You can live without a bike," I whisper, "but I can't live without a job." My guilt eats at me as I hop onto the bike, cheeks burning with shame. "Sorry, whoever you are," I mutter. "I’ll return it. I promise. As soon as I get my job back."

And with that, I pedal furiously, clinging to a hope as desperate as my escape.

Finally, I arrived at the office building, panting and drenched in sweat. My mind raced. Would the boss give me a second chance if I begged and agreed to work for less pay? Ugh, the horror. But anything is better than ending up as my Aunt Chi's eternal errand girl.

I parked the bike carefully. Sorry, bike owner. I swear I'll return you, pinky promise. Just as I started to march toward the entrance, a voice as smooth and condescending as ever stopped me in my tracks.

"Not so fast, guinea pig."

I froze, dread crawling up my spine. I turn around to face Azazel, blocking my path. He casually moves to the side, fully cutting off my access to the office door.

"Azazel," I breathe, my voice barely a whisper. We stood eye to eye.

He feigned a disappointed look. "You didn't even visit me while you were in your apartment this morning. I waited all day, only to find out you ran away like a coward. Perhaps I misjudged you. All humans are the same," he sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Coward?” My voice came out low, simmering with irritation. I clench my fists, take a deep breath, and exhale slowly. "Listen," I say, trying to keep my tone level, “I have things far more important than you.”

His eyes lit up, a curious smirk dancing on his lips. "More important than me, the great demon lord?" he drawled, clearly entertained.

“Yes,” I said, glaring. “Like my debts, perhaps?”

“Debts?” He tilts his head. “Such a ridiculous human concept. But, fine, I understand that humans often owe things. But what exactly are you talking about? An economic debt?”

“Yes some, now please stand aside”

“I see in other words you need money, but this is not bank why would you come here in the first place”

“This is my job place but, because of SOMEONE drugged me, i have been absent for almost 4 days now, and I have been fired, so I have to recover my job”

His smirk faltered for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “Too bad, but you have to help me with some important research,” he declared, as if that settled things. “Prosecute my feelings of love.”

“After I talk to my boss,” I shout back, my voice rising, each word sharpens by my growing rage.

“I don’t care,” he replies, grabbing my arm before I slip away. His grip is strong, but so is my determination.

“You’ll come with me, Elysia,” he gives a commanding voice, my eyes narrowing. The pain is there, his hold bruising, but it is nothing compared to the ache of desperation pounding in my chest. I glared up at him, feeling the seriousness settle over my face.

“Oh? Aren’t you going to beg for release?” he taunts, clearly expecting my spirit to waver.

But he doesn't understand. He can’t understand. “Someone like you,” My voice shaking not with fear but with indignation, “will never know what it’s like to live off instant noodles every night. You’ll never understand the fear of the landlord threatening to change your apartment’s lock if rent isn’t paid on time. Or counting every penny from the change you have given after you buy groceries grocery store just to gather all of the change and go to the bank and change for solid dollars. You don’t get how important this job is, especially now! You don’t scare me, Azazel!”

For once, he seems... stunned. The tension in his grip slackened, his usual confidence wavering as he look back at me. “Chill,” he says, his voice softer. “I was just... playing. Don’t take it too serious”

He releases my arm, and for a moment. Had I actually hit a nerve? It is oddly satisfying.

“Then excuse me,” I said, squaring my shoulders and walking past him, trying to ignore the way my heart is still pounding.

As I step into the building, a wave of uneasy stares washes over me. It feels like everyone is whispering behind their hands, either because word has spread that I’m already fired or because they witnessed my public showdown with Azazel outside. My cheeks burn, but I plaster on my brightest, most awkward smile.

“Look at the time! Haha, good afternoon, everyone!” I call out, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. A few people mumble greetings out of sheer courtesy, while others avoid my gaze like I’m a bad luck charm.

Swallowing my embarrassment, I head to the front office. Behind the glass window sits Mrs. Myrtle, the receptionist, who could intimidate a lion with her disapproving glare.

“Excuse me,” I say as politely as I can, “I’m looking for Raian Grimsby.”

Her eyes narrow. “Mr. Raian is busy. You’ll need to make an appointment.”

My heart skips a beat. “But I’m one of his employees!” I blurt out. Instantly, I realized my mistake. If she asks for my employee ID, my cover is blown.

Mrs. Myrtle doesn’t miss a beat. “Hand over your employee ID.”

Panic spikes through me. I let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, about that… Boss Raian has mine! You see, I’m… a new hire.” I pause to gauge her reaction. “He told me to come see him personally and pick it up.”

She gives me a skeptical once-over. “You? A new employee? Haven’t I seen you here before?”

My laugh sounds more forced this time. “Nope! First time here. Fresh employee, full of energy, ready to be exploited—uh, I mean, ready to work!”

Mrs. Myrtle raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing!” I clear my throat. “So, can I see Boss Raian?”

With a tired sigh, she gestures dismissively. “Third floor, second door to your right after the elevator.”

“Thank you!” I chirp, pretending not to know the layout as well as I do. My heart pounds, but I’m not backing down now.

I just need to open this door and face Mr. Raian. Easy, right?

Clink.

The door swings open, and there he is, the dreaded Raian.

"Hey, Mr. Raian! Long time no see!" I force out with a smile that probably looks more like a grimace.

He narrows his eyes, fingers already hovering over the button to summon security. "What are you doing here?"

"Wait! Mr. Raian, hear me out—I’m not angry!" Even if I should be. But hey, today is not the day for demands.

He pauses, suspiciously eyeing me as I fumble for the crumpled doctor's note. "I got fired," I start explaining, pushing the paper toward him. "But everything was a huge misunderstanding. See? Doctor's orders. I was in a coma—literally! So, could we... reconsider?"

He snatches the note, scans it, and then, without missing a beat, folds it up like a useless napkin.

"Huh," I say. And just like that, sweat breaks out on my forehead.

"No need," he adds with a casual shrug. I had never seen him talking to me that way before. "I already hired someone better. More efficient, too, and they’re willing to work for half your pay."

My jaw drops. "You can't just fire me!" I burst out. My face is hot, and not in a good way.

He raises an eyebrow, like I’m some naive little kid. "What can I say? Things happen for a reason."

"I'll sue you! This company!" I yell, because what else is left?

"So naive, Elysia," he sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Go ahead. Waste your money if you want. But the contract you signed states—in the fine print, of course—that we can terminate your employment for 'justifiable reasons,' including lack of performance."

I blink. "Lack of performance? What do you even mean? I was unconscious!"

"Not our problem," he says, sounding way too pleased with himself. "Life's rough. You should've had someone notify us within twenty-four hours. Otherwise, it’s a strike against you. Company policy."

"But I don’t have any family here! That’s not—"

"Not my fault," he interrupts, flashing a fake, pitying smile. "Take it as a life lesson: don’t get sick at inconvenient times."

The unfairness of it all hits me like a truck. My chest tightens as I think about how empty my savings are. Lawyers cost money—money I don’t have. Mr. Raian and his army of managers could drown me in legal fees.

I’m done for.

He studies my defeated expression and sighs. "Elysia, I’m not a monster," he says, though I highly doubt it. "The new guy’s on probation for two weeks. If he doesn’t impress me, I’ll consider giving your job back. Can you wait two weeks for an answer?"

Two weeks. But my rent is due in eight days, and I’ve only got enough saved to pay three-quarters of it.

"I... I don’t know," I mumble.

He leans in, flashing a grin that I don't trust. "Don’t worry. If I take you back, I’ll even bump your salary a little." He winks, like he’s offering me the deal of a lifetime.

A salary increase? My hope flickers, but it's barely enough to keep me standing. Two weeks of uncertainty is better than nothing. Right?

"Fine," I say, plastering on a fake smile that almost cracks my face.

"Good girl," he replies, already dismissing me. "Now run along. I have real work to do."

As I leave the door, I can hear how he is holding his laughter, slowly releasing that annoying sound.

I stumble out of the building, head hanging low, feeling as though life has chewed me up and spat me out. My face? A picture of pure defeat, eyes fixed on the sidewalk like it might offer me some sage wisdom about why everything is spiraling.

“This isn’t just a bad day… Nope! It’s not even a bad week—try a cursed month! Or, better yet, a whole rotten year!” I yell dramatically at the sky, as if the clouds might pity me and rain down good luck.

A voice interrupts my solo pity party. “Yelling at the sky, huh? Hate to break it to you, but it’s deaf.”

I snap my head around and there he is: Azazel. I guess he was waiting for me all this time. But not for the good reasons.

His poker face looks just as miserable as mine, like we’re competing in some contest for the most tragic expression, but his is natural.

“Come on,” he sighs, grabbing my hand and dragging me along. “You had your chance in there. Now it’s my turn. I need your help for my ‘human love research,’ guinea pig.”

I trail behind him in silence, too exhausted to argue. We walk for a few moments before he suddenly halts. He stands there, waiting, like he’s bracing for some reaction I haven’t given.

…

…

“It’s not fun if you don’t say anything,” he complains. “What’s with the dead-inside look? Where’s the fire? The rage-filled girl I just saw?”

“Huh…” I exhale, my shoulders slumping further. “They didn’t even care about my doctor’s note. I don’t know if I’ll ever get my job back. And if I can’t… I’ll have to leave this city.”

Azazel tilts his head, confused. “What’s so bad about that?”

I sigh. “You wouldn’t get it. I’ve always dreamed of being independent, of paying rent without constantly stressing about next month, or maybe even treating myself to a fancy dinner once in a while. You know, normal adulting.”

“All this because you overslept a few days?”

“A few days? A few days was all they needed to get rid of me!” I fling my arms up in exaggerated frustration, banging his chest with my fists.

“It’s all your fault!” I can’t but some tears just sneak out.

He is infuriatingly calm “Crying huh. Why are you telling me this? Weren’t you convinced I was some ‘scary stalker’?”

I manage a weak chuckle. “Yeah, but Mr. Raian is scarier than you by a mile.”

I can’t help but smile slightly at the absurdity. “Besides, not everything revolves around you, Azazel. Sometimes I just need to vent, and you happened to be here.”

I start wiping the rest of my few tears with my hands.

He huffs, annoyed. “Boring. So, this Raian didn’t budge? That’s bad for my research. Fine, I’ll help you.”

“What?” I stare at him, baffled. “You? Help me? How?”

Azazel looks serious for once. “ Wait here. I’m getting your job back.” He pauses. “If I do, will you smile again?”

I gape at him, incredulous. “What? Are you out of your mind? You can’t convince Mr. Raian! Nobody’s ever managed to sway any of the managers, let alone that monster.”

Azazel smirks. “Those ‘nobodies’ are mere humans. I may be stuck in this form, but let’s not forget: I’m a demon lord.”

Again with that. He’s absolutely insane, I think. Or maybe he just has no clue how companies work. As he strides confidently toward the building, I’m left watching him, half-expecting him to be thrown out in seconds. He didn’t even ask which floor Mr. Raian’s office is on! He’ll have to start at the reception desk, and, oh boy, the receptionist doesn’t take fools lightly.

I sit on a nearby bench, bracing myself. One minute passes. Two minutes. Three. I prepare myself to witness Azazel getting tossed out, but... the anticipation only makes me more anxious. What on earth is he doing in there?

Exactly ten minutes pass when Azazel strolls out of the building, scanning the area until his gaze lands on me. With a triumphant grin, he strides over.

“Now, smile. I got your job back, guinea pig.”

I blink at him, utterly bewildered. He’s at it again, spouting nonsense like he’s some delusional hero in his twisted reality where he believes he’s an actual demon lord. I almost feel pity for him—poor guy has clearly lost touch with what’s normal.

Before I can voice my doubts, my phone buzzes. I fumble to pull it from my pocket, my hands trembling as I read the message from Mr. Raian: You can restart your labor this Monday.

“Wha—” The words choke in my throat, and I tug at my own cheek to make sure I’m not dreaming again.

...

Azazel’s brow arches. “What’s wrong? I thought getting your job back would bring your spirit back to life. Show some gratitude or at least a smile.”

“How’d you do that?” I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you had some pictures of him doing something... dirty and use it as a blackmail”

I pause, blinking. “Wait, no, that’s not possible. You’ve got stalker skills, but that’s beyond the limit. You didn’t even know who Mr. Raian was until recently!”

He smirks, as if he’s enjoying the confusion. “I’m not a stalker,” he says with a dismissive wave. “I told you before, I am in top in the food chain of all demons I’m the king of Hell in this realm. A demon lord in the flesh. ”

I stare at him, an odd chill running down my spine, but not out of simple fear—something more profound, unexplainable. Yet, despite the goosebumps, I can’t help but burst into a fit of nervous laughter and then a genuine one.

“You… hahaha, hahaha—a demon lord, huh? Sure. And I’m the queen of space.”

I laugh, partly from disbelief and partly at myself for ever doubting. I mean, could demons be real? I have no clue, but what I do know is that no ordinary human could pull off what he just did in less than ten minutes.

“But for real, tell me how you did it?”

“Let’s drop the topic for other day, I got your job now smile again”

I stand up straight and finally smile at him. “Why were you so adamant about making me smile?”

“Because as my guinea pig, I need you to be full of reactions, impulses, life. You’re not the perfect subject, but I can’t afford to be picky with the limited time I have.”

I poke him in the chest with my finger, emphasizing my point. “Look, I’m grateful for what you did, really. But let’s get one thing straight.” I poke him again for good measure. “Don’t. Call. Me. Guinea pig again. Clear?”

Azazel’s lips curl into a smirk. “That’s what I admire about you. You’re in my presence, yet you’re fearless. If you can’t be afraid of me, don’t fear anyone else, either. Fine, no more ‘guinea pig.’ In return, stop calling me a stalker.”

It’s not like I don’t feel fear. It’s just… it’s hard to believe this guy is a demon lord when he’s standing here with all-too-human features. Maybe he’s some undercover government agent hiding his true identity? Who knows. But for now, I let it slide.

“Looks like we have an agreement.”

“Close enough,” he says, holding out his hand. “So, will you help me, then?”

“Fine. I’ll help you with your search for love or whatever it is,” I say, shaking his hand.

“Great,” he says, eyes narrowing with determination. “Then first step: my confession. I love you.”

“Thanks, but… I do not love you.” His expression does not change, but I can almost hear the gears in his head overanalyzing every syllable I just spoke.

“What? I agreed to help you find love, but not with me,” I tease, chuckling at the sight of his poker face.

“ So are we clear about that?” I look at him with a smirk.

He sighs, he softens his expressions “ fine”

Azazel might be a demon lord—or a human with some major identity issues—but one thing is for sure: my life just got a whole lot weirder.