Died Three Times

How Did He End Up in This Situation?!

Elliot stared at the absurdly attractive demon king in front of him, feeling his soul leave his body for the third time in his miserable existence. His hands trembled, his mouth opened and closed like a dying fish, and his brain had fully blue-screened.

"How the hell did I summon a husband?!"

And worse... a male husband?!

[A Few Months Ago]

Elliot had always lived a barely manageable life. Being a guide for espers wasn't exactly a high-paying job, but it was enough to scrape by. He didn't expect much from life, just food, a roof over his head, and maybe some peace. But life, as usual, had other plans.

Then one day, he died.

How did he die?

An esper on a rampage.

One moment, he was just going about his usual routine, trying to calm an unstable esper down. The next moment, chaos erupted. A single misstep, a lapse in his luck, if he even had any to begin with.. and the esper lost control. Power surged, buildings crumbled, and before Elliot could react, he was caught in the middle of the destruction. His body was crushed under falling debris, his lungs filled with dust and blood, and darkness swallowed him whole.

That was it. That was how he died.

As if his miserable life hadn't been enough of a joke, fate decided to toy with him even in death.

Because instead of staying dead, he woke up.

Not in the afterlife.

Not in heaven.

But in another body.

And worse….. in another world.

At first, Elliot thought maybe this was his second chance at life, maybe things would finally turn around.

They didn't.

In fact, his new life was even worse than his last.

He had been transmigrated into the body of a sought-after esper guide. Someone special. Someone highly desirable. But there was one major problem.

Everyone who wanted him… were men.

Apparently, in this world, esper guides had to maintain physical and emotional contact with espers to keep them stable. That meant hugs, touching, hand-holding, and sometimes… more.

INTIMACY!!

And Elliot was straight.

How was he supposed to handle this situation?! In his last life, he barely even interacted with people, let alone men who desperately wanted him to be their guide. He avoided unnecessary interactions like the plague. And now? Now he was suddenly the most wanted person around?!

He had no choice but to go into hiding, avoiding every esper who wanted to form a bond with him. But that didn't last long.

Because jealousy was a terrifying thing.

The other guides who saw him as competition didn't take kindly to his existence. They hated that he was so popular, so desired. They saw him as a threat.

And so, they killed him.

Not just any death—a brutal one.

They didn't just kill him quickly. They made him suffer.

One night, Elliot was ambushed. A group of jealous guides cornered him in a dark alley, their eyes burning with resentment. They called him a nuisance, an unworthy pretender who stole attention from those who "deserved it more."

First, they broke his fingers—one by one—so he could never use his powers to defend himself.

Then, they shattered his legs, making sure he could never run away again.

They tortured him, cutting into his skin, watching as his blood painted the cold stone ground. His screams echoed in the night, but no one came to help.

And when they had their fill of tormenting him, they drowned him.

They shoved his broken body into a nearby river, watching as he sank, helpless and unable to move.

His lungs burned, his vision blurred, and once again, darkness swallowed him whole.

And this time, he prayed.

He prayed that he wouldn't wake up again.

He prayed that it would finally be over.

But the gods must have been deaf. Because once again, he woke up.

This time, Elliot found himself in the body of someone even more useless than before.

If his previous lives were garbage, this one was a flaming dumpster fire.

The original owner of this body was a weak, talentless, and utterly pathetic mage.

A complete failure.

He had no remarkable skills, no talent for magic, and no intelligence to make up for it. His classmates mocked him, his teachers ignored him, and even his own family was ashamed of him.

He failed every magic test.

He barely attended class.

He had zero knowledge about the magical world.

He had zero useful memories. (Seriously, not even a single spell cheat sheet?!)

Elliot had to clutch his head in frustration when he realized that the previous owner of this body had wasted his entire time in the academy doing nothing useful. If someone had transmigrated into Elliot's past self, at least they would've inherited some decent survival skills.

But this body?

It was worthless.

It had one good thing going for it. A stupidly attractive face.

And that was it.

No skills. No power. No knowledge. Just a pretty face.

But even that wasn't much of a blessing. Because instead of being admired for it, the original owner was constantly bullied.

His fellow mages called him a waste of space.

They tripped him in the hallways, destroyed his books, stole his belongings, and humiliated him in front of everyone. The instructors didn't care. The students didn't care.

Elliot barely had time to process his new life before he was punched in the gut by a passing Mage.

"Move, trash," the guy sneered before walking away.

Elliot wheezed on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

So this was his life now.

The former owner of this body had never paid attention in class, which meant Elliot had no knowledge of magic and was doomed to fail his final exam in one week.

If he failed? He'd be expelled.

If he got expelled? He'd end up a trash collector.

Which, honestly, sounded better than being hunted and burned alive again.

Still, dying twice was enough, thank you very much. He just wanted a peaceful life this time.

He was nothing.

But honestly.

Elliot still preferred this over being chased by a bunch of men in his last life.

So he made a plan.

1. Survive. No more dying. No more reincarnating. Most importantly NO MORE DYING.

2. Pass the academy exams so he wouldn't be forced into becoming a garbage collector.

3. Absolutely, under no circumstances, get involved with any men.

Simple, right?

Wrong.

Because everything went to hell when he tried summoning a simple, harmless magic spirit—

And instead, he summoned the Demon King.

As a husband.

In the class hall....

Elliot's brain short-circuited as he stared at the imposing figure before him.

Everything about him screamed dangerous.

Powerful.

Deadly.

And worst of all… possessive.

Azrael—the almighty Demon King—tilted his head, observing Elliot with an unreadable expression.

Elliot's entire soul left his body.

He still couldn't believe he just accidentally marry the Demon King?!

NO.

HE COULDN'T!!

Worse of all Azreal had said he wouldn't leave, and would claim here as his inlaws territory!!?

He wasn't accepting this! Absolutely not!

"You can't stay, you have to leave," Elliot blurted, his voice shaking. "You can't possibly be serious… You can't be my husband!"

Azrael arched an eyebrow, clearly amused. "And why not?"

Elliot felt the weight of everyone's stares. He wanted to die again. But instead, he forced himself to speak.

"Because we're both males!"

For a brief moment, silence stretched.

Then, Azrael smirked. A slow, knowing smirk that made Elliot's stomach drop.

"Demons don't discriminate," Azrael said, stepping closer. "I can marry a man… especially one as pretty as you."

Elliot's breath hitched. His face burned.

"Well, I can't!" he shot back.

Azrael's smirk vanished. His eyes darkened, the silver turning into a deep, dangerous crimson.

"Why can't you?" Azreal's voice was dangerously low, sending shivers down Elliot's spine.

Elliot gulped. He was going to die again, wasn't he?

Summoning a demon king was already bad. Accidentally marrying him? Worse.

But telling him no?

Suicidal.

Still, he had to try. He had to stand his ground.

With all the courage he could muster, he took a deep breath and yelled—

"BECAUSE I'M STRAIGHT!!!"