Demon summoning

A distinguished, well-dressed, robust man pushing fifty, with a full head of graying light hair was standing in the hallway of a luxurious manor, looking up at a large, extremely realistic painting.

Said painting was of him and his family from ten years in the past.

In it, the younger him, without as many wrinkles and with more lush dark-blond hair was sitting side by side with his beloved wife, always serious but with warmth in her gaze, and their then ten-years-old daughter was between them with just the happiest smile.

"..."

The man closed his eyes and lowered his head.

He lost his wife to an ambush from a rival crime lord shortly after the painting was finished…

And as of two days prior, he lost his daughter, too, to a supposed freak accident caused by magic.

"Sir. We have the man you wanted to see. He is in the interrogation room."

A timid maid approached the man and curtsied to him before speaking up without raising her head.

The man glanced at her and then, without uttering a word, passed by her.

"...whew…"

As he left, the girl swayed on her feet, breathing out with relief. Although she was working in that manor for a couple years already, this time she was sure her employer, Ivo, the Crime Lord holding the entire Southern part of Wondalandor in his palm, would lash out at her.

The guard inside the interrogation room opened the door to Ivo without him needing to announce his presence.

The guard also closed the door immediately after Ivo entered the room.

In there, two of Ivo's underlings were standing on both sides of a man seated in a single chair bloated to the floor in the middle of the room.

The man was clearly a captive, tied up to the chair and with a gray bag tied around his head.

"We got him, Boss! Although for someone you hold in such high regard, he was quite easy to capture."

The man on the right called out at the sight of the manor's owner.

"...haa…"

"Shut it, idiot! Boss wanted to see him because of his knowledge about magic pellets!"

Ivo glanced at the captured man only to look to the side and let out a sigh, which prompted the man on the left to flinch and start scolding his colleague.

"If he was easy to catch, then he isn't the black-haired demon."

"Wh-wha…?"

Ivo sighed even deeper before pointing out, causing his men to let out baffled gasps.

"N-no! He definitely is! We properly tailed and caught him…! I… I mean…! See for yourself, Boss!"

The man on the left gasped in exasperation and got riled up to the point of enthusiastically taking off the bag covering the captive's head.

"?!?!"

"!!!"

"..."

So enthusiastically, in fact, that the bag ended up knocking the black wig halfway off the brown-haired captured man's head, causing everyone except Ivo to flinch in shock.

"I… I don't understand… what…? How!?"

"...huh…?"

The pair on both sides of the clearly wrong person had a hard time accepting the truth right in front of them.

"Out. And take this gentleman with you."

"...y-yes, Boss… P-please excuse us…!"

Ivo's cold voice caused the two to cower, and they untied their captive and rushed out of the interrogation room within the next heartbeat, hastened by pure fear of what punishment might await them if they were tardy.

"Here, Sir."

"...?"

Unexpectedly, Ivo was approached by the guard who reached out his fist, offering something to the distinguished man.

"...oh, for the…!"

Ivo put out his hand instinctively and ended up scoffing in disbelief the moment that two paralysis protection charm bracelets fell on his palm, released from the guard's grasp.

"..."

Ivo raised his head and stared at the ceiling in silence.

Although no suspicious sound was made, Ivo already knew he had a magic pellet - either a fire or ice one - pointed at his back.

It was most likely the ice one, as those in the know were aware of the flaw of the frost protection charms—they had only a fifty percent chance of actually working when the attack came from less than six inches away.

"There has been a misunderstanding, young Medea. I really only want to hear your opinion about the fire that killed my daughter."

Ivo slowly raised his hand to make sure that none of his movement would be misunderstood as resisting, and declared.

"..."

"My daughter died in the fire in Redoast. They say it was a spell of her lover going out of control. He was obsessed with becoming a spellcaster or whatever bullshit, and my daughter would often sponsor some bullshit that was supposedly making his spells stronger. But I would rather crush a fire pellet in my asshole than believe that useless waste of air could achieve anything, even by sacrificing his life."

Medea said nothing, but Ivo certainly wasn't going to follow his example and revealed with his voice changing from sadness to fury.

"...two days ago… most of the traces and clues would be trampled… How much do you offer for me to look into it?"

After a nerve-rackingly long silence, Medea spoke up in an indifferent voice.

"A thousand big gold coins. Double of that if you will be able to show me a solid proof of what happened."

Ivo said without even a shred of hesitation, even though the wealth that he offered would make all lower nobles and even some who were in the middle of the power ladder crawl at his feet, kissing the tracks left by his soles in the mud.

"Try harder."

"!!!"

But the response he got, caused Ivo to flinch in pure disbelief…! Medea, the black-haired demon, he sounded as disinterested as if Ivo just offered him a handful of copper!

But Ivo wouldn't have become a crime lord if he hadn't realized the meaning of that behavior.

It wasn't money.

The demon wanted something else.

Support to create his own organization? The protection from getting crushed and rooted out by the other crime lords?

That couldn't be the case…

It would be too obvious.

Without a proper front, even he couldn't…

"You want a noble title…!"

"Not just any noble title. I have no intention of dabbling into fake marriages."

Ivo gasped, shocking even himself with the realization, only to get speechless when Medea corrected him in a stoic voice.

"I… I am no King! Even with my connections, I can't just offer you a forged title if his majesty didn't actually bestow you with one! He isn't some senile old man who fails to realize something is wrong!"

The southern crime lord gasped, with cold sweat drenching his back.

Noble titles was the one thing no sane criminal tried to mess with, as forging it was a single crime where the whole kingdom would turn against them in retaliation.

"The entire bloodline of Grimguard perished during the war, with the exception of old Baron Herman Grimguard, of course. His lands are struggling to recover, being at the very edge of the reestablished border with Battllorran… wouldn't you say that His Majesty would look positively at the heartfelt letter from Herman asking to pass on his legacy to the young war hero who avenged his family?"

"...how… how long did you plan for this…?"

Medea chuckled playfully as he gave his opinion, and Ivo's body became covered in goosebumps. From the numerous reports he received during the war, he was well aware that the black-haired demon smiled and laughed ONLY when tormenting and torturing.

"Not at all. It's just a… coincidence~"

The black-haired man shrugged his shoulders and chuckled in a refreshed voice.

"I'm merely imitating the flexibility of approach you, Sir, showcased so efficiently back during the war."

Medea added charmingly, although Ivo experienced only dread.

"I will see what can be do…"

"The noble title is a baseline. If I will be able to give you certainty about the issue, the reward should increase accordingly… let's say, cooperation with your organization, an exemption from paying for protection, and… free hand at dealing with nuisances."

Ivo spoke up, but Medea didn't wait for him to finish and corrected his way of thinking.

"With a thousand gold coins, you could… No. Forget what I just said. I agree with your conditions. In two weeks, you should be contacted by someone from the royal castle."

Out of reflex, Ivo did try to point out that gold was more than enough for Medea to buy the title himself, but then he remembered who he was talking to and changed his tune instantly.

While it surely would be just a convenient front behind which the black-haired demon would hide his endeavors, the circumstances in which he would gain it mattered more than one could imagine.

"We have a deal, then. Here. Celebratory gift."

"!?"

Medea nodded with satisfaction and stepped forward, pushing the magic pellet he was threatening Ivo with into his hand, giving the Southern Crime Lord quite a shock.

The black-haired man left the room shortly after, leaving the completely stunned graying man staring at the palm of his hand in which he held…

…a green healing pellet…

"Pfft…! Ahahaha… AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! So that's how a pact with a demon is made!"

"Boss?! Did something happen? Boss?"

Ivo snorted and burst into a peal of hearty laughter and even cheered out in amusement, causing the thugs from before to return to the interrogation room and call out to him in confusion.

"~!"

Meanwhile, hooded Medea, walking out of the manor, moved the concealed ice pellet from his sleeve back into the pellet casket and smiled wildly, unable to keep a straight face anymore.