For a place called the Gates of Hell, this place looks a lot like heaven! The buildings are bright and shining. The sun’s overhead and lighting up the brilliant green grass. People are lying about and cultivating out in the open. It’s so … picturesque. That’s a word, right? The necklace of intelligence is warming up, so it’s definitely agreeing that it’s a word. Wait a minute…, didn’t Ilya say the necklace heated up when I was under the attack of an illusion? “Who’s attacking me with illusions!?”

“Oh? Newcomers?”

“They look like province-exchange winners. They only sent one earth-realm expert?”

“Well, we were running out of fodder anyway.”

“Hey, Softie. They’re looking down on you.” I poked Softie, who was trembling while staring at the grassy meadow. “Softie?”

“Ah?” Softie stopped shivering and looked at me when I grabbed her shoulder. “Lucia? Was that an illusion? I, I really thought we were in hell….”

So there was an illusion! I need to reward Ilya some more. She’s so useful. “What did you see?”

“It was very similar to the great massacre you performed at the cultural exchange a year ago back at the sect. Lots of blood and screaming and death.” Softie shook her head and bit her lower lip. “At least it was just an illusion.”

“It might’ve been an illusion, young lady, but that’s just a glimpse of the true battlefield.” Someone appeared on the deck! He was slim and feminine and completely not imposing at all. Maybe he was a woman? His black hair was even longer than mine, going past his butt and down to his knees! When he sits, does he sit on his hair? Doesn’t it get dirty really fast? “Oh? It seems like someone recognizes me.” The long-haired man smiled at me. “And which sect might you ladies be from?”

“Do you recognize him, Lucia?” Softie whispered.

“Nope. The only transvestite I know is Snow.”

“Kuack! T-transvestite?” The long-haired man made a very strange coughing sound as if he choked on a roasted duck while laughing. “W-which part of me looks like a transvestite?”

“Your hair.”

“Just his hair?” Ilya asked. “Don’t you mean his dress? He’s wearing a dress.”

Well, it’s easier for a man to wear a dress than it is for a man to grow out his hair for years. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s the hair. Cause a man in a suit with long hair like his can still be mistaken for a woman, but a short-haired man will only be mistaken for a woman while wearing a dress.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Ilya paused. “That placebo’s working really well….”

Placebo? What placebo? Is that a type of fish? Ilya mutters the strangest thing sometimes. No wonder why she mutters them; people will think she’s crazy if she says them out loud. “Anyways! We’re from the Shadow Devil Sect. Where’s the crown prince?”

The transvestite looked like he wanted to cry. I know this expression! He’s about to develop a heart devil. I wonder why. Maybe he didn’t intend to look like a woman? But why would he dress that way if that wasn’t the case? Mm. People are strange. The transvestite sighed. “There are many crown princes at the Gates of Hell, but I assume you’re looking for the crown prince of Kang Country, right, young lady?”

“Yup.” I’m here to steal his sword, but Fat Sky gave me a legitimate reason to approach the crown prince. “He’s supposed to be my direct superior.”

“Your direct superior?” The depressed expression on the transvestite’s face disappeared as his eyes widened. He looked around before leaning towards me. “You might not want to say that out loud,” he whispered and gestured around with his eyes. Dozens of people had awoken from their cultivation and were staring at me. “There are many people here who wished to be the prince’s subordinates but were rejected. If they find out someone like you is a subordinate of the prince, there will be no end to your troubles.”

“Eh? No end to my troubles? But my troubles always stop when I hit them.” Except for when I have to find a stupid sword for stupid Durandal because he’s so picky! Gah. It’s a shame I can’t hit him into existence. I can only hit things out of existence. Woe is me.

“The people that the prince rejects are all strong. They’re always earth-realm experts. People in the saint realm don’t even dare to approach him. It’s better for you to lay low since you’re new. I’m only telling you this out of goodwill.” The transvestite paused. “Though I’m not sure why I’m doing that. You’ve hurt my dignity quite a bit. But putting that aside, you should do your best to be humble or those slighted people will pick fights with you.”

“Why would I have to be afraid of a bunch of rejects? They were rejected because they were weak, right? If they try to do something funny, I’ll beat them up and take their underwear! I’m not afraid of losers.” Hmm? Why’s Softie tugging so franticly at my sleeve?

“L-Lucia! They’re all coming this way!” Softie yelled in a whisper. How does one yell in a whisper? I’m not sure, but Softie did it. All the cultivators who were sitting around in the grass were flying towards us to pay their respects. Right? I mean, I’m someone who wasn’t rejected; it’s clear they’d respect me.

One person with gray hair—how come so many people have gray or white hair?—slipped ahead of the pack with his sword drawn. Is that a sky-realm-ranked sword? I don’t think it is. “It’s easy for you to call others a loser when you’ve never been here before, but I cannot accept your arrogance, Junior. Today, I’ll teach you a lesson in humility!”

Was he talking to me? What arrogance? I’m not arrogant; I’m confident! There’s a big difference. One means I believe I’m better than everyone. And the other means I know I’m better than everyone. Hmm. Is there a word for both confident and arrogant? I believe and know I’m better than everyone. Mm. As a humble person, of course, I won’t say that out loud! But I’m not going to not beat this person up and steal his sword! Who does he think he’s picking a fight with? I’ll teach him not to be overconfident for the cheap price of one earth-realm-ranked sword!