John stood there, seething in anger. Watching the four men tremble in fear. His question hanging in the air. The scent of blood filling the room. A man in ornate blue and gold robes started to step around what looked like an old audio mixing console. Large thick ropes of wires crisscrossed in every direction, a chaotic web. Sprouting from every metal box are old lightbulbs. John’s burning anger blinding him to all the curious sights.

The old man in the red robes, who first spoke to him, put a hand on the shoulder of the blue man. Stopping him from getting any closer.

“Do not be afraid Demon, we have summoned thy to complete a task.” The old man commanded in a shaky voice. “I can assure you that whatever family you have in Hell is as safe as they usually are.”

“My family is not in Hell! You stole me from them! WHY!” John’s last scream echoed around the room. The devastation reverberating, dancing around everyone’s ears. The man in red paled, his tan skin draining of color. His loose sleeves shook. John could see the calm façade start to crack, tears appearing in his eyes.

One of the men in back stepped behind the king and said something into the King’s ear. The man in red stopped trembling, slowly wiping at his face. The blood that was slowly leaking from his nose gone, hidden on the red sleeve. John’s anger was growing, he started to walk off of the platform. Bare feet slapping on metal then stone rang through the chamber, John’s advance making all but the blue robe retreat.

John stopped his advance so close to the blue robe, he could feel breath on his chest. John was head and shoulders above the tallest person there. He gazed into everyone’s eyes. Looking for any bit of remorse, he saw only fear. John knew that fear was important for any negotiation, but too much leads to ruin. John knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to go home, he wanted his wife, he wanted his money. Now he needs to know why they brought him here.

John put on his fake smile, the one that he always plasters on during difficult negotiations. “What are your names?” John asked, his deep base trying to emulate the practiced grandfatherly voice he practiced for decades.

The man in red stood straight, his fear disappearing into a neutral expression. In a confident baritone he proclaimed, “I am King Robard, Protector of this realm, He who was chosen by the Tribunal, Survivor of the Purge, Holder of the Relic of St. Tobias the Mad.” He waved his hand to the blude robe, “This is my court sorcerer, Benedictus the Sane, Maintainer of the Ritual, the wisest man in the kingdom” He pointed behind him to the man that whispered in his ear, “This is Duke Thyme, a most loyal confidant. His family has been a boon to this kingdom for centuries.” He pointed to the last man, he was in his early fifty’s, which was younger than all of his contemporaries. His gold hair only having some white streaks. He was obviously muscled and stood tall, glairing directly through John. “This is our great general, Vasily Zhukom. He commanded my army just last year, defending my kingdom from a great coalition bent on destroying my capital.” the general bowed his head imperceptibly.

John noted the names. With his rage hidden behind a smile, “We should clean up, and sit down to discuss exactly why you brought me here.” Usually John would be more circumspect, but he didn’t care right now.

“Yes, of course, we shall have you clothed and fed, then we shall meet in my chambers to tell you why we summoned you, oh great Demon.” The sorcerer Benedictus remarked, his voice trembling.

John tilted his head at the remark, ‘clothed?’ He looked down at himself. He was completely naked. Thick course black hair covered his chest. His stomach, unlike his previous body was extremely muscled. In fact, all of this body was toned and bulging with muscles. John was never fit in his old life; he always had some sort of beer-belly. As John continued to stare at his pristine body, he felt wrong, something was tickling the back of his mind. He would ponder on what later.

They all waked to the bank vault door, candle flickering off the dull metal. John was able to make out his face; he has a wide strong jaw, long black hair, sharp nose, and high cheekbones. He thought that he looked fairly handsome, but a far cry from what he actually looked like.

The king stood before the door, hand about to turn the handle but stopped. He looked to the General, “Zhukom, give The Demon an outer robe. We cannot let the women see him as he is.” Zhukom took off his yellow robe and handed it to John.

John tried to put the clothing on, and it barely fit. The seams bulged from his muscles; the back would rip if he wanted to hug someone. The front of the yellow robe was unable to close, so a deep neckline exposed his front down to his navel being closed by a belt. Thankfully, the robe was able to hide his manhood from being seen.

With that King Robard opened the door. Standing there, in organized lines were all of the King’s retinue that was unable to make it into the vault. About fifty people lined the dark halls, some hurrying to stand from the floor, others that seemed to have stood the whole time. And some that had the correct idea have some stools and chairs to wait on.

The king walked through the people, John directly to his right. Everyone stared at him. Everyone knew. A servant came to the king, who told the servant to feed and clothe John or as the servant was told ‘The Lord Demon.’

Walking through the castle with the servant John was surprised to see how archaic everything was. There were tapestries hanging on every wall, the walls were plastered white. Windows shown the absolutely stunning view of a gold and green valley, emerald green pastures with small hamlets dotting the countryside. At the base of the mountain that the castle was carved into was a city. Nowhere as big as the metropolises that John was used to dominating. He could see the smoke from all the chimneys lazily drifting upward.

John and the servant walked up many stairs, through maze of hallways, across many gilded rooms. They walked outside in the brisk mountain air; shear drops just beyond carved handrails. John did not spot any type of tower, only windows and doors into the mountain.

After what had to have been an hour John was led into a room. Beautiful wooden wardrobes, a massive four poster bed, massive shelves bare of any possessions, a huge desk looking out onto a large stone balcony.

“My Lord, these are to be your quarters. The Sorcerer is in the room directly to your right, and the Bishop of the region is to your left. The Master Tailor will be here soon, along with refreshments from the kitchen.” The boy quickly bowed, his head going past his knees, then ran from the room, slamming the door in fright.

John stood there, his borrowed robe chafing, his new body warmed up for more exercise, his anger bubbling. He looked at his new possessions, not what he would have bought. John was more art deco.

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John sat in the large chair behind the desk. His thoughts turned to what his family was doing right now. How was Aira doing? Was she devastated? Did one of her friends come? What was she thinking right now? What about Tommy and Eliza, they just saw their grandfather be sucked into a black hole. Were they going to be alright? What about his many companies? He was the sole owner of many of them, he didn’t have a succession plan. Entire economies would collapse. The board of directors for each business would fight for who would be the rightful owner. It would be chaos for years with assassinations, lawsuits, and bribes. He knew that his family would be safe, he had squirreled away hundreds of billions in various places in various means. His family would never want for anything. But still he wondered what his family will do. Would Aria take the reigns of all the companies? Would his daughter? Or, god forbid his son in law? If that dumbass took over, everything would be worse off than the boards squabbling. That boy could barely decide on what to have for breakfast, much less how many assets should be leveraged to get a lone, or for how long that loan would last, or what percentage it would be. Hell, the boy probably didn’t even know of a bank that could give loans, even though he was the president of one.

John sat and waited. He needed to calm down, his rage would only make him sloppy. Just like when he went into a union dispute pissed at the factory strike. He was so pissed he fired everyone it brought the factory to a stand still for two years. It was a mistake, a costly one.

As John was ruminating on his life, a knock came from his door. A meek man stepped in, not waiting for Johns acceptance. Following him was a cart pushed by the same servant boy that led him to the chambers. The man bowed low, “My Lord, I bring you food and wine from the kitchens.” A large silver tray with a silver dome was placed on his desk. With a flourish the man lifted the dome to reveal an uncooked haunch of meat, blood dripping onto the tray, the ‘wine’ was just a silver goblet filled to the brim with blood. The coppery scent filled the room. The man and the boy both waiting for John’s reaction. After a few seconds they started to wilt, and cringe. John just stared at the meat. A questioning gaze at it, then to the man.

“Ah, this is an excellent steak. Take it back to the kitchens and have the chefs cook the meat until there is only a little pink on the inside. Make sure to use lots of salt. Also bring me wine, I prefer a sweet white wine.” John, knowing that insulting the help only brings about theft and other pointy things. He tried to keep his tone civil, but his words came out in a low growl.

The silver dome quickly slammed on the tray and everything was quickly wheeled out of the room with another slammed door. John sat, contemplating about the treatment. Obviously, they thought that he was some demon summoned by the King. What would the king want? What would John give? He wanted to go home, and he would give everything. What the King wanted would be answered in their meeting. John needed an action plan. What were his advantages, his disadvantages, what would make his disadvantages into advantages?

Advantages

One he was considered a demon lord.

Two He had nothing.

Three he was an outsider with what seems like a lot of information about technology and theories that these peoples have not created yet.

Advantages One he was considered a demon lord. Two He had nothing. Three he was an outsider with what seems like a lot of information about technology and theories that these peoples have not created yet.

Disadvantages

One- He knew nothing about this culture.

Two- He di not know what he would be tasked to do.

John was unsure about that last one. He was in a castle that was hewn directly from a mountain, so central air was unneeded. He did not see a radio or tv, but in some of the more high-tech hotels all that was needed was a flat surface and a pinhole in the ceiling for a micro projector. There was no monitor, but again they only needed a pinhole, or even just a tablet. The place was an obvious monarchy, with dukes, so it was probably a feudal system. But again, there was not enough info for John to make a good action plan.

They thought John was a demon, so what type of demon should John play? Or should he convince the people that he was not a demon. What would be the advantages, the disadvantages?

Advantages: One-People will fear him, fear is a good motivator for people to do as he wants. Two-Being a demon will allow him to introduce new technologies and technologies into the world with little explanation for why. Three-It gives him automatic clout with many people, as being a being from hell. Four- It would excuse any fopas that he committed Five- It would allow him to be condescending and dismissive and evil. Disadvantages One- People tend to kill demons. Two-People tend to fear demons, and fear leads to resentment and ultimately death if the fear gets too oppressive. Three- Whatever church there is will not like him around leading to constant decrees for his death.

Well John didn’t mind death. Afterall he knows he died, and his sudden reappearance into his own world would only cause more chaos. With his kidnapping/murder he also has nothing to lose. Which brings the downsides of being demon down to one. So, John decided to play as a demon.

“What type of demon should I be? A Faustian Demon, making deals that bite you in the ass in the end? A contract demon signing away the soul of their firstborn? Obviously, they think that by summoning me they have bound me to them. Maybe I should just leave this place and go into the countryside and live like an ordinary person?” John had to chuckle after that last thought. John would never be an ordinary person.

John knew that the king kidnapped him here to be an advisor to solve some types of problems. After all, that is what demons always do, solve problems.

A knock at the door startled John out of his thoughts once again. Another man, clothed in extremely vibrant blues and greens cam in. His cloths were not so much robes as they were layers of vests and tight hose with an enormous gold cod piece. With him came in with a boy carrying in a large steamer trunk, the boy placed it like a wardrobe and opened the door to reveal piles and piles of clothing, and tools.

“Good evening, my Lord. I hope that I am not intruding upon you. Our majesty has commanded me to outfit you with robes and other clothes. If you could stand here an allow me to measure you, I can quickly alter a robe to match your presence” The man said huffing and puffing. Sweat dripping down his forehead, large belly shaking from such laborious breaths.

John stepped up and waited. Looking into the wardrobe, wondering what colors the tailor had. What color should John choose. White would not be fun when he needed to eat. Black is a bit too on the nose, useful in many a situation. Would it be useful right now is the question.

“What color do your people consider to be appropriate for peo-beings of my origin?” John tried to sound sinister, growling deep in his throat. To John it sounded silly. Like a child at a haunted house trying their best to be intimidating. John knew that in his world those types of people were never intimidating. The pedophiles in office that had a revolving cadre of children to parade around all of their parties. The business leaders that also had ties to the mafia and made liberal use of those connections. No, instead of being an over the top cartoonish evil, John needed to play this as a cool and confident type. The ones that could smile to your face while also texting a hitman to kidnap and sell your kids. That part would be easy. John had dealt with many a persons like that.

“A deep red my lord. Red is the color of your people.” The tailor also looked toward the wardrobe, quickly reaching in and pulling out a bright red cotton robe with many geometric patterns painted onto the fabric. The tailor reached into a hidden pocket on his vest and pulled out a cloth tape measure. After measuring John in every which way, the tailor started to alter the red robe. The tailor estimated the alterations to take at least two hours, as the tailor described it, “My Lord is exceptional in all measurements.”

As the tailor pins and sews, needles swimming in fabric, the door opens once more. The servant boy comes in again with the silver tray and dome. He quickly places the food on the desk and unveils it. The servant boy stands there hands trembling, eyes darting around the room going everywhere except to John.

John leans forward, having been seated for quite a while as the tailor worked, and cut into his steak. “This is good, thank you.” Really the steak was charred to ash with no salt. Was it a mistake, overcorrection or deliberate. Honestly, John was too hungry to care at that moment. He ate and watched the tailor continue his work.

“Boy” John said, snapping his fingers to get the servant to look at him, “Bring me to the Sorcerer’s chambers. I am having the meeting now.” Standing up John walked to the door, opening it, stepped into the hallway, and turned back. The servant stood there, wide eyed. “Boy, bring me to the Sorcerer”