During the afternoon as I peer through the window, I watch Elysia and Elene disappearing down the street, walking side by side. A strange, fleeting pang stirs within me, but I quickly dismiss it. This charade of caring for a human—it doesn’t suit someone of my caliber. I’ve played along enough. Tonight, I’ll leave, but for now, I need to enjoy every second of my vacation.

Without a second thought, I slip out of my apartment and take the opposite route, avoiding their path.

The town unfolds before me in its dull monotony. Cobblestone streets, flickering lamp posts, and muted chatter from the few lingering souls—none of it holds my interest. A filthy, stagnant place like this is beneath me. Why did I stay so long in this boring place?

I pick up my pace, doing some sprints. The wind rushing past as I dash through shadowed alleys and deserted roads. It's aimless, a need to move rather than stay rooted in thoughts that threaten to pull me under, I keep running for an hour or more. Eventually, I find myself near Muse Park, a modest sprawl of greenery tucked within this drab little town.

I pause, catching my breath. I enter the park to remember where I met her for the first time. The faint glow of the moon filters through the branches above, casting dappled shadows on the worn path.

“This... is interesting,” I mutter between gasps. My heart pounds, and I feel an odd strain in my chest. “Getting tired…”

I clutch my knees, trying to steady myself. This sensation—it stirs something deep within, a memory I can’t quite grasp. For a moment, I feel almost... mortal.

But no, that’s absurd. I shake the thought away, forcing my breathing to slow. I glance around the park, the stillness of the night almost taunting me.

The night air is thick with the usual scent of this dreary town—cheap food stalls, exhaust fumes, and the occasional whiff of wet concrete. I walk down the poorly lit street, barely paying attention to my surroundings. A group of four thugs leans against a wall up ahead. Their stares are heavy, like mosquitoes buzzing in my ears. Annoying, but hardly worth swatting.

When our eyes meet, one of them smirks and gestures with a finger across his neck, as if to warn me. Pathetic. I ignore them and keep walking. It doesn’t take a genius to notice the sound of their footsteps trailing behind me, closing the gap with each step.

Before I can deal with them, a girl passes by me—quick, delicate steps, almost floating through the humid night. She radiates an unassuming presence, something innocent yet... off..

The thugs take notice of her, their interest shifting in an instant. Like moths to a flame, they veer toward her, abandoning me without a second thought. Humans are so predictable.

I slow down and observe as one of the thugs grabs her wrist. She flinches but doesn’t cry out. Instead, she looks at them with wide, startled eyes. They surround her like hyenas circling prey, spouting lines about phone numbers and addresses.

I decide to take a view of the event, as I am watching a movie. Soon when the girl reveals her face completely

“ I remember her,” I murmured to myself. She is Murasaki Hikōki.

My body acts without a second thought, redirecting myself.

“Humans,” I mutter under my breath. “Always thinking numbers hold power. The weak cling to the weak, while the strong remain untouchable at the top of the food chain.”

Sheal tilts her head, her lips parting as if about to protest, but she doesn’t. Her silence draws their confidence higher.

One of the thugs steps closer, knife in hand, gleaming under the dim streetlight. “Got a problem, pal?” he sneers, looking past Murasaki Hikōki and directly at me.

I can’t help but smile, the kind that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Oh, I see. Toys. Nice toys you’ve got there. But even toys can be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Toys?” The leader scoffs, his voice laced with bravado. “Alright, boys, let’s show him what these ‘toys’ can do.”

As one steps toward me, I move. Not with urgency, but with precision—like water weaving through cracks. By the time he’s fully raised his knife, I’ve already dashed past them.

“Wha—?” one of them sputters, confused.

I slow to a halt and hold up my hand. Four wallets dangle from my fingers, their leather edges reflecting the light.

“Oh, were these yours?” I ask, inspecting the contents casually.

“You’re dead meat!” the leader growls, his face contorted in rage as he steps forward.

“Am I?” I flip open one of the wallets, skimming through its contents. “Hmm, a debit card. I wonder—do you think it’s stolen?”

“That’s mine!” he shouts, lunging at me with all the grace of a drunken ox. I sidestep effortlessly, watching him stumble past me.

“Not anymore,” I reply, sliding the card into my pocket.

I take off, sprinting down the street, hearing their curses and heavy footsteps pounding behind me.

“I’ll spend every last cent!” I call over my shoulder, a grin tugging at the corner of my lips.

The remaining thugs, infuriated, abandon Hikōki entirely to chase after me. I don’t bother looking back; I can hear their ragged breathing and furious shouts closing in. It’s almost amusing.

Why Am i doing this? I can’t stop thinking about it, she is not part of the equation anymore.

I feel warmth, a burn of minimum grade in an abstract sense. I usually feel hot and cold because of this human body because it is normal for these creatures to be delicate.

I feel it again while I keep running from these thugs, but it is not physical—that warmth. It’s not like the burn of anger or the fleeting cold of pain that comes with this fragile body I wear. This warmth is... mine. To compare is like blushing, but I do not feel embarrassed in any way. Is not something inflicted on me, but something I create. It’s the same warmth I’ve only known when I talk with Elysia.

I remember her asking me why I had such a long face, and in that moment, I noticed it myself. Her words linger, even now: "Love requires selfless acts." At the time, I thought that task would be too complex for me. The great Azazel, Demon Lord, unable to complete something so simple for humans? Even now, I can't help but think that being a demon lord isn’t enough to grasp such a concept.

Then why her? Why now? She’s a stranger, insignificant, mortal. And yet, as much as I try to push it away, there’s something undeniable in the way my body reacts to her. Something that drives me to act, no matter how much I try to convince myself she doesn’t matter. Maybe unconsciously Elysia's words resonate, that I should do this selfless act.

I make those fools run themselves ragged while I barely break a sweat. Every twist and turn through the narrow streets is deliberate—left, then right, sometimes slowing my pace just enough to give them a flicker of hope that they might catch me. It’s almost too easy. By now, I’ve led them far away from Muse Park, deeper into the maze of this decrepit town.

When their gasps for air echo through the night, I know they’ve reached their limit. I stop abruptly, turning on my heel to face them.

The thugs stagger to a halt, their faces pale and drenched in sweat. For a moment, they look like cornered rats, realizing too late they’ve run into a trap.

I approach the leader, his bravado melting into uncertainty. Before he can react, I perform a quick backsweep, knocking him off balance. In the same fluid motion, I snatch the knife from his hand and press its cold, sharp tip against his neck as he hits the ground.

“I told you,” I say, my voice calm but edged with menace. “Toys can be dangerous.”

His wide eyes dart between me and the blade. “Last words,” I continue, tilting the knife slightly, “before you wake up in the butcher’s section of the kitchen?”

He spits out, “Screw you.”

I laugh, low and unhurried. “Gutsy,” I admit. “I like that. But you see, there’s a price for guts. Insulting me? Oh, no, no, no. You’re the one who’s screwed now.”

I glance at his trembling friends, each of them frozen in fear, then return my gaze to their so-called leader.

“I’m going to make you cry,” I say, and with a serious tone I exclaim my words, “and then I’ll make all your friends cry too.”

Before they can fully process my words, I grab a fistful of their leader’s hair and yank hard. A swift tug, and the strands come away, leaving a shiny bald patch.

One by one, I repeat the process with each of his friends. They scream, they beg, they flail—but none escape my grip. When I’m finished, all four stand before me, their heads gleaming under the faint glow of the streetlights.

“Yeah, this is a special technique,” I say, dusting off my hands. “Even succubus can’t handle it.”

The thugs burst into tears, clutching at their scalps.

Satisfied, I turn and run back toward Muse Park. The path is straightforward now—just a driveway ahead, a turn at the stop, and a straight shot forward. As I run, I call back over my shoulder..

“Next time you decide to attack someone, remember this: there’s always a bigger fish.”

Their sobs fade into the distance as I leave them behind. Tonight, I’ve had my fill of teaching lessons.

As I make my way back, I spot the girl sitting on a bench. Her arms are wrapped around herself, but she doesn’t look as shaken as I expected. I approach cautiously, taking note of her calm demeanor.

“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice low and steady.

She looks up, her eyes catching mine. “Yes… Thanks, but why did you do it?”

I can’t say, I was stalking her before I arrived on earth and decided to make you one of my guinea pigs. Based on Elysia, in this case honesty will screw this up.

Elysia? I hate to admit, even though I do not understand her logic most of the times. She is right in these types of human cases.

“I did it because… that’s what a gentleman does, isn’t it?” I say, forcing a charming smile.

Her cheeks flush slightly, and she smiles back. “So charming. So, you believe you’re my blue knight?”

“Blue knight?” I blink, caught off guard. Humans and their baffling references. Why blue? Why not green, black, or even red? What significance does blue have?

“Why are you making that face?” she teases, giggling. “It’s like you’re not from this world or something.”

The laugh catches me off guard, and I find myself smiling despite myself. She’s becoming too friendly. Far too friendly.

When I watched her back in hell through the magic TV—yes, that very contraption the demons had rigged to spy on humans—she never seemed like the type to talk so much, let alone smile so easily. She’d always been reserved, quiet, almost invisible in her world.

And yet here she is, smiling at me like we’ve known each other forever.

“It’s from a story. You know, the kind where the brave knight rides in to save the day? Blue symbolizes loyalty and protection.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

It feels awkward. I don't know why so it is better to stay out of this.

"I think I’ll go," I say abruptly, the words spilling out before I can stop them.

I’ve met many humans, but this one feels... different. Is it her charm? I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about her presence that makes me uncomfortable. It’s as if I’m doing something wrong, a sensation I’m unaccustomed to.

"So fast? After you saved me?" she protests, clasping her hands together with a smile. "At least let me treat you to something to erase that sad face of yours"

I decide to ignore her last words.

"Sorry but I actually ate before," I reply, hoping that’ll be enough to excuse myself.

"After all that running, you must be hungry. Don’t be shy," she teases, nudging me lightly with her elbow.

I’m starting to lose my cool. Still, I decided to humor her. Perhaps this will offer me some insight into her behavior.

During the night we end up at a restaurant with an Italian theme—predictably human. She, of course, chooses pasta.

"So, you weren’t kidding when you said you were full," she remarks, mid-bite.

"I wasn’t." I stand, pushing my chair back slightly. "I think this is enough. I don’t see any purpose in staying here. Have a nice day."

Honestly, I expected this girl to be more interesting besides the uncomfortable moment I am feeling, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s just another dumb human.

"Don’t be like that," she says, leaning forward slightly. "Let’s see… what if we play a game?"

"A game?" I echo, my interest piqued. Humans have games, sure, but can they compare to the ones I know—psychological warfare and deadly battles of wit?

"Yeah. Or are you going to chicken out… Azazel?"

My eyes narrow. Did she just challenge me, me, the demon lord, and call me a chicken?

"I don’t care what game it is," I reply, keeping my voice steady. "I’ll show you the difference between us."

"Great! But it’s not exactly a game," she says, her tone smug. "It’s more of a question. One you can’t answer."

"Sounds dumb. Nothing gets past me. But fine."

I’ve mastered the sciences of the universe, delved into the depths of politics, history, mathematics—she can’t possibly stump me.

"If you can’t answer," she continues, "you have to do something for me."

"Like what?"

"You’ll see," she says with a mischievous grin. "But since you’re so confident, you’re not scared to accept the deal, are you?"

"Not at all. But if I answer your question, you will shave your head bald."

The terror of human females when it comes to their appearance—it’s a masterstroke. She’ll be too distracted by the stakes to focus, and victory will be mine.

"So, do you accept it?"

"Sure," she says calmly, her eyes radiating cocky amusement.

"Go ahead, then."

"Alright," she says, folding her arms. "In three steps, how would you put an elephant in a refrigerator?"

I blink. What kind of ridiculous question is this?

"First, call an engineer. Then—"

Wait. That’s already one step. Think! No, an engineer won’t do.

"First, call a zookeeper. Then use heavy machinery—"

No, that’s even worse! How big is the refrigerator?

She giggles softly, and I grit my teeth. This avatar’s brain is infuriatingly limited.

"I see," I say finally, smugly. "It’s a trick question. Here’s my answer: First, I hire an engineer to design a shrinking ray. Second, I shrink the elephant to the size of a rat. And third, I throw it into the refrigerator."

"Why are you assuming the refrigerator is already open?"

I pause, stunned.

"Then I’ll throw it with enough force to force my way in. The point is, the elephant will be inside."

She laughs, holding her stomach. "You’re crazy!"

"So? Was I right?"

"Not exactly," she says, still laughing. "But that was... imaginative. Alright, let’s play a real game instead."

Before I can respond, she pulls out a deck of cards, shuffling them with surprising skill.

I sit back down, narrowing my eyes. Humans. Always full of surprises.

The warm atmosphere of the Italian restaurant wraps around me like a blanket, but I remain unmoved by the comfort of it. The human chatter and laughter swirl around me like a background hum, irrelevant to my purpose here. I am focused entirely on one thing:Beat Hikōki .

She sits across from me, her eyes twinkling with that same mix of curiosity and amusement that humans always seem to wear like a mask. I can’t help but feel a slight tension in the air. She looks confident, too confident, but her little tells are already visible to me. The way her fingers twitch slightly when she picks up the cards. The way her posture straightens, her shoulders almost too rigid. This is the kind of nervous energy that comes from someone who isn’t entirely comfortable with the situation.

I, on the other hand, am more than comfortable. I’ve been through battles, wars, the manipulations of hell itself. This—this little card game—is nothing more than a distraction. But I’ll make sure it’s an interesting one.

Sheal shuffles the deck with the grace of someone who’s trying too hard. Humans, always so eager to impress. She seems to know the basic rules but there’s a slight fumble in her motions, a hesitance that would be unnoticed by anyone else. But I see it. I notice everything.

“Same deal as before, are you ready?” She asks, her voice light, almost teasing.

I meet her gaze, the smallest of smiles tugging at my lips. "Ready for what?" I answer, my tone low and steady, a little amused by how she’s acting. I’ve dealt with much more dangerous situations than this, so this human challenge is no threat.

She smiles back, her green eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "The game, of course. What else?"

I lean back slightly, my gaze never leaving her. I wonder, just for a moment, if she understands what she's getting into. But I quickly dismiss the thought. Humans are simple creatures, and I am superior to them in every way. This game will be no different.

Hikōki deals the cards with a flourish, and I can’t help but note how she tries to seem confident. But it's all just a show, isn’t it? I can tell she’s nervous—her movements are exaggerated, almost too careful, as if she's afraid of making a mistake. Good. This will be easy.

“We’re playing Cheat,” Sheal says, breaking my focus for a moment. “The goal is to get rid of all your cards. You place them face down and say what they are, but you don’t have to tell the truth. If I think you’re lying, I call ‘Cheat.’ If I’m right, you pick up the pile. If I’m wrong, I pick up the pile.”

I listen carefully, then nod. "A game of deception." I can’t help but smile. Perfect. This is a game I can control. This is what I do.

“Two Sevens,” I declare, placing my cards down with an air of superiority, watching her every movement. Her expression remains neutral, not even a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

I’m waiting for it. That moment of hesitation, the nervous twitch, the subtle movement of her hand that will betray her. Any tic she has or involuntary response of her will give me an advantage.

“Are you going to call me out?” I ask, keeping my voice casual, though inside I’m beginning to feel a small spike of frustration.

Hikōki looked at the cards for a long moment. Her gaze shifts to me—no hint of doubt. Then, she shakes her head. “Nope. I’ll let you have this one.”

The game continues. I’m winning. Every time I play, she hesitates just enough for me to see her uncertainty. She’s not as confident as she lets on. Her posture is stiff, too rigid—she’s trying to hide the cracks, but I see them. It’s like watching a mouse trying to hide from a cat—except in this case, the mouse is pretending to be a lion.

“Three Kings,” I announce, placing three cards face down. I give her my best cocky smile, watching her closely.

Hikōki looks at the cards, her lips twitching slightly. She doesn’t have the calm demeanor of someone who’s about to challenge me. But I know this game well—too well. I’ve seen every bluff, every subtle twitch in expression. There’s always something.

She tilts her head, considering the cards for a moment. She’s thinking, calculating.

“Cheat,” she says with a grin that’s far too confident for someone who’s supposed to be an amateur.

I almost scoff. She’s so predictable. I reveal my cards—three Kings, just as I said.

She doesn’t flinch. She smiles instead. “I guess I misjudged you.”

I lean forward slightly, my confidence growing with each round. “You have much to learn.”

But as the game progresses, I begin to notice something strange. She’s still calm. Too calm.

I study her more intently now. Her lips don’t twitch. Her pupils don’t dilate when I lie. Not like the others. This is... frustrating.

I try to catch her off guard, but each time, she calls my bluffs or lets them slide, and I feel my control slipping. How is she doing this?

We reach the final round. I have only a few cards left, and Hikōki has one. Her victory is within reach, but there’s something about the way she’s sitting now—too calm, too collected. She’s been pretending to be the amateur this whole time, and now I see it. She’s been toying with me.

I place three cards down. “Three Kings,” I declare confidently.

Hikōki stares at the cards, her face unreadable. The silence between us stretches, and I can feel her eyes on me, analyzing me just as I’ve been analyzing her. There’s no hesitation, no sign of doubt. It’s almost as if she’s waiting for me to make the mistake.

I watch her, trying to read every muscle, every small shift in her posture. But nothing. Not even the tiniest twitch.

“Cheat,” she says, her voice calm, her eyes sparkling with something I can’t quite place.

I reveal my cards—two Kings and a Ten.

For a moment,

I can feel my patience thinning. How is she so good at this? Every tiny movement, every shift of her eyes, her smile—there’s nothing, not a single hint of doubt. I’ve been playing her, or so I thought, but now I realize she’s been playing me all along.

Hikōki places her card down with deliberate slowness, the Ace of Hearts staring up at me, mocking me with its simplicity. I know what she wants from me: to call her out, to make the mistake. But I won’t. Not this time.

“Cheat.” I say the word, my voice growing sharp as I try to match her calm demeanor. My eyes remain locked on hers, scanning her face for even the slightest quiver. This has to be a lie. It has to be.

She flips the card over.

The Ace of Hearts.

I freeze. My heart skips a beat, and for the briefest of moments, I feel a rush of confusion. I look down at the card, then back at her, unable to hide the shock that flickers across my face. How…?

Hikōki 's laugh rings out, light and sweet, but there’s a knowing edge to it, as if she’s been waiting for this moment. “I win, Azazel. Looks like you’ve been outplayed.” Her grin widens, clearly enjoying my frustration.

I sigh, feeling the weight of the game’s aftermath. “I guess I was. So, straight to the point, what is the favor you wanted?”

Hikōki pulls a chocolate bar from her pocket. “My boyfriend did cheat on me last week, and I want to make him jealous. I want you to take pictures with me as a fake boyfriend to publish it on my social media. We’ll share this chocolate together in the pictures.”

I blink, confusion spreading across my face. “Huh?”

“Don’t give me a ‘Huh,’ you lost fair and square,” she teases, her smile almost mischievous.

“Sure,”

Sheal’s eyes glint as she continues, “But not here. Let’s go to the park again. It’s kind of embarrassing to do it with another man here.”

“Sure…” I reply again, scratching the back of my neck. She’s even weirder than I thought.

We walk to the park, the air cool as the sun begins to set. We sit on a bench, and Hikōki immediately starts snapping pictures of me. I can feel the awkwardness settling over me, but I have no choice but to go along with it.

“This chocolate was his favorite,” she says as she takes a picture, her eyes distant for a moment. “We shared it many times on Valentine’s Day, but now, I’ll share it with you.”

I frown. “You know I’m not a replacement, right? I’ll leave after the pictures.”

Hikōki doesn’t seem to care, grinning as she holds up the chocolate. “Sure, but let’s make the best pictures then.”

She hands me a piece of the bar. “Put it in your mouth, and let’s take the picture.”

It’s a weird request. But as a demon lord, I have my pride. I’ve given my word. I can’t back down now.

I take the piece of chocolate and pop it into my mouth. This is so ridiculous.

Hikōki sets the camera and snaps a few pictures, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. When she finishes, I’m about to throw the chocolate away, feeling ridiculous.

“What are you doing?” Hikōki snaps, her eyes wide in alarm. “That’s expensive chocolate! Don’t throw it away like that.”

“Then eat it,” I say, my tone flat.

She rolls her eyes. “That was from your mouth. Don’t be such a dummy.”

She makes a silly face and then adds, “Unless you want an indirect kiss?”

Indirect kiss? The words echo in my mind. What is she talking about? Humans are weird.

I don't think I will ever stop repeating these words.

I feel my patience wearing thin, but I still play along. “Fine. I’ll eat it.”

I bite into the chocolate, trying not to think too hard about it. It’s just chocolate.

But the moment it hits my tongue, something strange happens. The sweetness lingers, but it’s more than just the taste. I keep eating, thinking it is just an exotic kind of chocolate.

A sudden warmth spreads through my chest, a heat that makes my heart beat faster. I grip my chest, suddenly feeling like I’m burning from the inside out.

What is this feeling?

My heart thuds against my ribcage like a drum. What the hell? This sensation—it’s nothing I’ve ever experienced. I can’t focus. I can barely breathe.

Is this what Elysia felt? The thought hits me like a bolt of lightning. The warmth. The pounding heart. The strange sense of vulnerability. Is this what she felt when I used my eyes on her?

The world around me starts to spin. My head feels light. My legs wobble beneath me as I try to stand, only to stagger backward, clutching my head.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

My legs are finally giving away and I collapse onto the grass,

But the confusion is too much. My vision blurs. “Sorry, Elysia…” I whisper.

“Sleep, Azazel. I have to be somewhere else” I hear Hikōki faintly whisper, almost as if it’s coming from far away.

The last thing I can focus on is the thought of her name. How does Hikōki know my name?

The darkness is taking over my consciousness. How does she know my name If I never told her?