The first time Minji summoned a demon, it wasn’t for something noble like power or revenge. It wasn’t even for something dramatic, like bringing back a lost love. No, Minji wanted a demon because her ex-boyfriend still hadn’t returned her air fryer.

“It’s not about the money,” Minji muttered, squinting at the scrawled text of Demonic Contracts for the Desperate and Petty. “It’s about the principle.”

The textbook-sized tome was borrowed—okay, stolen—from the university library’s Restricted Section. Who even knew colleges had Restricted Sections? She had stumbled upon it while trying to nap away her anxiety about rent, midterms, and the fact that her dorm fridge was currently hosting one sad, single yogurt cup.

After arranging the summoning circle with expired ramen seasoning and a bottle of nail polish (because blood was just too messy), she lit the candle she got for free from a self-care seminar. Lavender-scented. Classy.

“Alright, here goes.” She cleared her throat. “Demon of the underworld, lord of darkness, harbinger of chaos and—”

The circle burst into flames. Minji screamed, dropping the book and nearly setting her pajama pants on fire. The flames died down almost immediately, leaving a smoky, sulfurous figure standing in her tiny dorm room.

The demon—who looked suspiciously like a very bored, underpaid intern in a secondhand suit—glanced around. His glowing red eyes landed on Minji.

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“You rang?” he asked flatly, pulling out a clipboard.

Minji stared, still clutching the yogurt cup she’d grabbed for moral support. “Uh… yeah. I have a job for you.”

The demon sighed. “Right. Name’s Kaltazar. Level-one demon. I handle breakups, parking disputes, and minor acts of vengeance. What’s the job?”

Minji hesitated. Saying it out loud felt a little… ridiculous. “My ex-boyfriend has my air fryer, and I want it back.”

Kaltazar blinked. “Your… air fryer?”

“It’s expensive!” Minji snapped, crossing her arms. “And he’s a jerk. He cheated on me, stole my Netflix password, and now he’s holding my kitchen appliance hostage.”

The demon scribbled something on his clipboard, muttering under his breath. “Air fryer retrieval, class B pettiness. Alright, sure. What’s the payment?”

“Payment?”

Kaltazar gave her a look that said You’ve got to be kidding me. “Yeah. You summon a demon, you make a deal. That’s how this works. You’ve read at least one book, right?”

“Uh…” Minji thought quickly. “What’s the cheapest option?”

Kaltazar shrugged. “A fragment of your soul? But don’t worry, it grows back.”

“That sounds… fine? Probably.” Minji offered her hand, though she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to shake his or, like, bleed on it.

Kaltazar ignored the hand, tapping his clipboard. “Done. Your air fryer will be returned by sunrise. Pleasure doing business with you, Ms…?”

“Minji.”

“Right. Minji. Enjoy your evening.”

And with a faint pop of sulfur, he vanished.

The next morning, Minji woke to a knock on her door. Bleary-eyed and still in her pajamas, she opened it to find her air fryer sitting on the hallway floor.

It was charred, dented, and filled with what appeared to be fried chicken bones.

Taped to the side was a sticky note:

“Contract fulfilled. No refunds. – Kaltazar.”

Minji groaned. “What the hell did I just get myself into?”