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Summon Imp!
50. A Look Inside

50. A Look Inside

The next time history-devil-man comes, his story is about something completely unrelated. It's frustrating, but at least I get to study his reactions with my additional senses. It nets me nothing. He's not using some kind of ability in order to track what we're doing. Still, nothing is something. If it's not something he is actively using, then maybe it's something he is passively using like my own feeling for magic. More investigation and experimentation is needed. It's going to be amusing, at least.

This all brings me back to a new realization. I'm bored. I've got my exercises to do every day and sensations to get used to, but otherwise there is little to keep me busy. Since I've grown, I no longer get the leeway I got when I just arrived. No longer do the bigger demons see my playful attacks as something to be tolerated. They see it as a challenge to their position and respond aggressively. As much as I've gotten used to pain, I don't enjoy it. Taking this to the stronger demons of other species turns out to be an even worse idea. This eliminates several avenues of entertainment and I've not found suitable substitutes.

I turn to one of the new things I've found to enjoy, annoying Harijia. Following the other Keepers' refusal to take me off her hands I've started visiting her for daily questioning sessions. The topics are random, though she refuses to answer anything that I can learn from one of the teachers. The first time I did this, I asked about her and she was surprisingly willing to answer. Now I know why her arms are so weak when carrying things. They were originally a weapon she used to protect her neck. I know very well how vulnerable I am when I grabbed in my neck. My front and rear limbs only reach forward, not behind me. Now the two small spikes have grown to actual limbs, I'll be able to fend off anyone trying to abuse me that way. Of course, the limbs on my back grew from what would be wings and are much stronger already than hers were. She grew them from nothing and I'm quite impressed despite myself.

There is another reason why I'm looking for distractions, not just because I'm bored. I'm sure Harijia knows, but she hasn't commented on it. I'm afraid. Not afraid like I am when I'm outmatched in a fight and I know it's going to hurt. Saying that I'm worried is probably better. I've never been worried before and the sensation is very unpleasant. I'm worried about my next summon. Or the next, or the one after. Soon, I'll appear in Mari's world again. The sensations I had in the dungeon were already quite strong. With my new sensitivity, they're going to be overwhelming. I know it and I'm not looking forward to it. I want it over with and I want to delay it for as long as I can, both at the same time. It's all very annoying and confusing and confusing and annoying Harijia soothes some of my frustrations.

I don't quite make it to Harijia's lair before the poking and the feeling of being called starts. I know they're summons, and none of them are from Mari. Before her call can turn up, I connect to one at random and feel myself being pushed and pulled along to some other place.

When I can see again I'm in a summoning circle in yet another classroom. A group of faces stares at me and sometimes past me at someone behind me. What is it with me and classrooms? This time though the circle is strong and the will that got me here is solid. Playing tricks like I did last time isn't going to work and I settle down to wait for instructions. Suddenly the circle flickers out, removing the barrier that kept me caged. Before I can react, the mind that summoned me stuns and freezes me. I've built up a bit of resistance from my struggles against Ara, but it's not enough. An impact just above my shoulders slams me into the floor. It hurts, badly, but I won't go down without a fight! I try to move my limbs under me in order to jump, roll or shuffle, but none of them obey me. Nor do I actually feel them. I can feel the stone under my face, but not on my chest or anywhere else. I try to move my head to look and find even that a challenge. Why isn't my body responding? Above me, I hear a voice.

"If anyone tries to do this in the field, I'll have someone beat some sense into you. It takes precision and strength to pierce the skin and muscles in order to sever the spinal cord there. Unlike a summoned monster, we can't make the wild ones hold still. If you try this and fail, you'll endanger not just yourself, but your team as well."

It's an authoritative voice and the few students I can still see mostly nod. One looks away with a faint blush. Something pushes against my neck, I can still feel that at least.

"You've seen the similarities between this monster and our own, they share more than just looks. If you do ram your blade into a joint for example, leave the blade in! Their regeneration will heal this, given time. Now, why do you think we use a summoned specimen, rather than a real one?"

A voice outside my view answers first.

"So you don't have to clean up the mess?"

Snickers follow. Whatever is going to happen, I'm very sure now it's going to be bad. I'm panicking. The only way I can tell is by the quickening of my breath which I can still feel going in and out of my mouth, down my throat, and then nothing further down.

"That's one reason. Anyone else?"

It's quiet for a moment until a young man in my field of vision speaks up.

"Money?"

"care to elaborate on that, Matthew?"

Matthew looks uncomfortable under the attention and hesitates. "Demon bodies are worth money. Their blood, bones, organs, every bit. No-one is going to waste money like that unless they have to."

"Correct," the voice behind me says, "Which brings us to the purpose of this class. How to kill one without destroying too many valuable components and how to extract them from your kills."

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With a careless tug and twist I'm tossed head over feet on my back. The ceiling is wood but clean and well maintained. I can't see any of the students any more, but the voice behind me now has a face. Sort of. The view I'm getting from where I lie is rather different. It's mostly chin and nostril. Judging by the height I'm at and what I smell at this level, I'm on a table of sorts.

With a small flourish the man picks up something metallic from near my head. I get a good look at his face and, honestly, it's rather forgettable. It's focused though. No trace of malice or disgust or anger like I'm used to seeing in things trying to kill me. The disinterest upsets me more than anything else would have. Paralysed as I am, there is nothing I can do. Almost nothing.

With as much force as I can muster, I whip my tongue at him. He's too close and caught by surprise, there is no way he can dodge. A wet slap and a soft sizzling follow. I'm well aware I'm lacking strength in this particular body part. then again, I never expected to use it to seriously attack with. As I try to withdraw my tongue, I feel it getting caught and grasped. The teacher, instructor or whatever he's called here has an angry red welt on his cheek, from the side of his mouth, up past his eye and the side of his face. Some hair has burned away from my saliva and blisters are forming. Not quite the flesh and bone dissolving effect I'd hoped for. To my satisfaction, he looks a bit angry.

A pull on my tongue flips my head over. I can't look at his face any more, nor do I see any of the students. Instead, I see a wall a bit further off. Next to the wall stands another man. I recognize him, some way, as the person who summoned me. Visions of what I'd do to him if I could move flash through my mind until my attention is drawn to what is immediately in front of me. Two hands. One holding my tongue flat on a very solid-looking wooden table, the other hand is holding a very sharp-looking knife. With a few quick cuts, my tongue is severed. The pain hits me a moment later. I'm still unable to control my breathing. Instead of a scream, all that comes out is a high-pitched squeak.

"When one of you gets hit with the tongue, which is always good for a laugh, keep in mind it's considered a delicacy." He rolls up my tongue to a relatively neat pile as he speaks, ignoring the snickers from his students. Next he roughly pulls my head up to face the class. "Do take a look at the mouth and neck. Is this a mouth that could fit such a long tongue? Do you see any pouches or places where it can be stored? If you'd ask the demon, he'd probably say he stores it 'somewhere'. Some limited and intuitive body-shaping is part of the species, so watch out. Now, let's get started."

I'm put flat on my back again and the man bends over me. I can't see what he does, nor can I feel it, but I don't have to. Close by, somewhere under my nose, I can smell the distinctive scent of demon blood. The bastard cut me open! I can still only make squeaks in anger, but I'm squeaking for all I'm worth. He turns away without paying attention to me. When he turns back and I see what he has in his hands, I turn quiet. The closest I can get to describe it is scissors, if scissors have handles the length of an arm.

"Now, if you want to preserve the ribcage, you can also start pulling things out from the lower body and work your way up. The way to a demon's heart is through its stomach, just like with men." He laughs softly at his own joke before continuing. "We're going to do this the fast way, though."

He sets the head of the scissors somewhere on me. I can't see where, but I get tossed about a bit as he gets a good grip. With a look of concentration, he pushes the handles together. I hear some cracking until something finally snaps with the sound of breaking bone. The horror of the situation starts to catch up to me. My vision starts to turn black around the edges. As if from a distance I hear the man speak.

"That's one, eleven more to go. See how there are more ribs that provide protection over a bigger area?"

Something shakes me again and another rib is cut. Right now I can only see the wall and my tongue on the table next to me. I can't feel or see what they're doing and a strange sensation comes over me. First, my vision narrows until I can only see what's right in front of me. A tongue, in this case. I feel light-headed, almost as if I'm floating. Whatever is happening is happening to someone else. My thoughts become calm and detached. With this, I am able to listen to the lecturer. He isn't talking about my liver, but about the liver of someone else.

A wealth of knowledge is shared between the teacher and the students, and I get to share in it. Most of it is about how to extract and preserve specific body parts. More interesting is hearing what kind of wounds are usually crippling or fatal. Having one of my hearts pierced is crippling and, given no time to rest, fatal. Having a lung pierced, which almost did for Ara, could cripple me as the lung fills with blood, but even untreated is unlikely to kill me at this point. Again and again the teacher repeats one instruction: If you get a good stab in, leave your weapon there. It prevents my admittedly crazy regeneration from patching up and then repairing the damage.

The most fascinating bit of information comes at the end. It's been about the preparation and preservation of organs only at this point, so not very interesting. I while away the time by looking at my stomach slowly dissolving into nothingness. No, not my stomach, A stomach. The tongue was gone quite fast, taking about three minutes, but the stomach takes significantly longer. Fluids like blood or saliva take much less time. I'm taken out of my reverie by a change in the rhythm of the lecture.

"That's it, now you know. Review the information you've received, next week we'll start letting you practice on your own specimen," the man says. "Now, does anyone have any questions? No? No-one? Any observations, anything strange you've noticed? Yes, Peter."

"Sir, why is this demon still alive?" the person named Peter asks.

"Good question. Remember that this is a summoned demon, not one of the natural ones of our world. It's not dead because it's not really alive. It dies when its body tells it to." He taps the blade still stuck in my neck. "Its body isn't telling it anything. As long as the brain is supplied with mana, it will keep on functioning. The only thing it needs is a heart and blood to bring that energy all over the body." He pauses for a moment. "Remember this. If someone summons a creature to fight you, it may keep fighting long after you expected it to be dead."

It's quiet for a while. I'm pretty sure the other listeners are as confused as I am.

"Think of it like this: how often have you immersed yourself in physical activity, only to find out afterwards that you're dead tired and completely out of breath? You never noticed anything while you were busy. As soon as you were finished, everything came crashing down."

This time there are some grunts or other affirmative noises from the students, as well as a few snickers.

"That concludes this lecture. Before you go, remember our unofficial motto: If something goes wrong with a summon, kill it. The last thing we need is another invasive species."

Over the sound of people moving about, I can hear the man say one final sentence. "Now, let's put this thing out of its misery."

Something grabs whatever is in my neck and gives it a twist. The world turns white.