Standing in my incredibly tall, gangly form of a true devilich, I observed my symbiote.

I could feel the thoughts and smell the intent and desire of the cancer mass wrapped around my spinal column. All it wanted was survival. It held not even the slightest hint of other urges. No pride, no ego, no wants other than the pure, unrefined will to continue being—to continue to grow.

In a sense, it was exactly what I’d expect from cancer. And it was precisely what I wanted to see.

The pieces my claw-tipped, bony hands had sheared off were slowly scabbing over and healing. It could regenerate quickly, but not nearly as fast as I could. Given some time and maybe a torch, I could burn it off without inflicting any substantial harm on myself.

With the cards stacked entirely in my favor, I activated my skill.

You have offered an [Oath of Loyalty] to [Archdemon Cancer Cell Biomass].

Are you offering the oath as a [Master], an [Equal], or a [Servant]?

Master, obviously, I mused internally, conveying my intent into the skill.

Please set the terms of the [Oath of Loyatly].

Before I could even ask what the “terms” were, I gained an understanding of the concept.

And, without hesitation, I set the terms.

You have offered the following terms: Absolute obedience from [Archdemon Cancer Cell Biomass] to [James].

Consequence of violating the oath: [Instant Death]

Error!

These terms are [Evil] and thus cannot be designated through the [Oath of Loyalty]!

“Shit…” I cursed under my breath. It made sense. This skill used to be [Slave Binding], an [Evil] skill. Given that the terms I was setting were just a slave oath, it made sense that this skill, the [Neutral] version of [Slave Binding], couldn’t be used with those terms.

I took a few minutes to think about it, then changed the terms.

I had to try a few times because the skill kept being bitchy about the terms I was trying to set, but eventually, I ended up with this:

You have offered the following terms:

[Archdemon Cancer Cell Biomass] will never harm [James], either directly or indirectly, including revealing itself in the presence or under direct observation of other enlightened beings.

[Archdemon Cancer Cell Biomass] will obey direct orders from [James] unless said orders cause it direct and irreversible harm.

Consequence of violating the oath: [24-hour Paralysis]

This way, I could command my symbiote to do practically anything. I had to specify that I couldn’t bring it “direct” and “irreversible” harm, but all that meant was that I couldn’t tell it to go die. It would be different if the cancer were, let’s say, a human. Those were much more fragile, so I would be relatively limited in what I could do.

Intuitively, I could sense that the “harm” part counted for “mental” harm, too, so if I tried commanding a human to, for example, kill someone, if that action was something that would mentally harm them, they could refuse to obey my command.

Thankfully, this mass of cancer cells had neither morals nor, well, a brain, so it would happily do right about anything. Due to its ability to regenerate, little to nothing could actually cause it irreversible harm. Even if it could, as long as I wasn’t aware it could, my command would go through all the same.

Then, there was the consequence. Those couldn’t be too strict, either. Again, if I had set this punishment against a human, it would be impossible to use it. For this mass of cancer, being unable to move was the default to which it had developed a miraculous exception.

My first thought had been to set the paralysis to just one second. After all, for the cancer to violate the terms I’ve set, it had to be able to move.

My inability to sin was slightly different from this oath. I had to actually do something for it to count as a sin. Intent alone wasn’t enough. If that were the case, I’d have died several times already.

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But the [Oath of Loyalty] was different.

It could be violated with intent alone. Not just a thought, naturally, but an actual, real decision to violate the terms.

Thus, if the cancer became paralyzed at the thought of violating the oath, it would, effectively, be unable to break it.

I thought myself a genius for a long second there.

Until I realized that once the oath was broken… it was broken. The consequence couldn’t be applied several times since the oath would no longer exist. The solution I landed on worked well enough and gave me plenty of time to set the oath again if it was ever broken.

With that out of the way, I settled on the terms and offered the oath.

[Archdemon Cancer Cell Biomass] has rejected the current terms.

“What!?” I shouted in my deep, sinister voice. “What the fuck!?”

[Archdemon Cancer Cell Biomass] wishes to add another term:

[James] will feed [Archdemon Cancer Cell Biomass] flesh.

I stared at the term, puzzled. What kind of term was this? Feed flesh? How much? How often?

I inspected the response I got from my skill.

If anything, it made me even more confused. As far as I could tell, according to the added term, I could feed the cancer a literal grain of meat, and I would never be forced to do anything ever again.

Perhaps blaming a brainless mass of cells for being stupid was a bit harsh, but the term was clearly poorly thought out. However, the intent behind it was clear.

A wicked grin spread across my jawline. “Worry not, my little friend,” I whispered to it. “I will feed you plenty.”

You have accepted the adjusted terms.

You have acquired a new [Servant]!

With that out of the way, I used [Shapeshifting] again and returned to my human form.

Thankfully, the storm of emotions I had been living through was nowhere to be seen. But as soon as I reverted, I once more felt the overt wickedness subside a little as my thought pattern changed.

Were the remnants of my human morals just a fake imitation, too? Was this nothing more than the byproduct of a skill? I couldn’t tell, but I honestly didn’t care.

That part wasn’t just the byproduct of my new nature, either. I could tell that the person who didn’t care was just… me. The years of living as a prisoner in my own body had changed my perspective on what it meant to live.

I knew damn well that this was way better than what I had lived through. So fuck moping around. What exactly had I felt so distressed about, anyway? Fucks sake, the concept of morality was a literal, tangible phenomenon within this world, and the act of punishing someone who deserved it was a righteous thing to do.

Was it gross? Was it disturbing? Was it perhaps a little fucked up? Maybe, but none of that held any actual weight.

When the world stood by my actions and desires, who was I to reject them? Who was I to abide by some hypocritical sense of right and wrong that defied reality itself?

And for what? The world I used to live in? Why? What did Earth ever do for me? What happiness, what fulfillment had I achieved in a reality where my closest loved ones wished death upon me just so I’d stop being a nuisance to them?

No.

I didn’t want that.

I didn’t need that.

Sticking by that was not the right thing to do.

I spread my arms wide open. With a mental command, I conveyed my intent to my servant.

It broke through my navel as it slid out from under my tunic and danced in the air before me.

“Tell me, James,” I told myself, “which world do you like more: one where a few mutated cells render both yourself and numerous medical experts utterly powerless, or one where you can turn that illness into an alien-esque familiar that fights for you?”

Deep within, I sensed a stirring. I could tell that I wanted to disagree. I wanted to stand by the old way, the morals I was raised with, and the “normal” that once brought me such happiness and joy. But I knew that was nothing but delusion.

How well did I even remember the days before I was paralyzed? Throughout the years of wanting to go back, the memories of my youth had morphed into this fever dream paradise, but was I ever really that happy?

Frankly…

If I was being entirely honest with myself…

Hadn’t I been kind of a fucking loser?

I had no girlfriend. I had been short, physically unfit, and generally unhealthy. No wonder the people in this world thought I looked way younger than I was.

I had few friends. I had no skills of value or true dreams of ever becoming genuinely good at something. And perhaps worst of all, I wasn’t even a good person.

Compared to that pile of waste, I was far better now. I had power. I had abilities beyond what I could even imagine. And I had absolute proof that I was a good—as long as I was still alive, the world acknowledged me as a positive existence.

The symbiote slid back into my body, and I walked out of the forest. From my vantage point up on the hill, I watched across the entire town. I didn’t like the fact that I was being forced to act. I wasn’t a fan of having my agency taken away from me.

Agency—what a funny word. What “agency” did I have back when I was unable to do literally anything? Compared to those hellish days, I was as free as a bird.

I would find ways to loosen the collar around my neck. I would find ways to deal with evildoers on my own terms.

I looked back into the woods, just barely spotting the bloody patch where Bruno used to be. My fingers twitched, and I bit my lower lip. The remnants of James, the human, watched hesitantly, stalling as my old sense of values hesitated.

I still wanted to reject it. I still thought it was fucked up. But I could tell that, on the deepest level, those remains of who I used to be…

Had already lost the will to fight.