Sacrifices To Jupiter VIII

"Have you seen a shark?" I ask. "I always thought the fuckers look scary, especially when they smile. But this guy beats them in that regard, and he's not even smiling!"

"You serious…?" She asks, raising a brow. "You really have the audacity to ask that… After killing the poor guy… I only met them for a week and we barely talked, so it's not like I have a mortal grudge against you… but showing disrespect to the dead is the lowest one can get. Besides, he's dead. Have you ever seen a cute corpse?"

"I don't think you'll look scary after I kill you," I tell her, smiling. Ahh, the urges. Maybe I'll calm down if I punch her once. Not twice. Just once.

Unbeknownst to me, my hand moves.

I strike.

Plucking a few of the strands of her hair and immediately tearing them apart.

"Ouch!" Mira shudders, her lips downing and quivering in anger. "Why hair?! You realize how painful that is!? Don't do that!"

Still better than body parts, organs, and skin.

"Move on," I say, waving.

She puffs her cheeks, a sole tear trickling down her eyes.

Ha, sometimes I forget I'm talking to a kid.

"Here, here." I pat her head. "Is the pain gone, Princess? Do you need a healing kiss on your temple?"

I slap her. On the right.

Wait, why did I slap her?

Then again. On the left.

Hahaha, it feels so good!

Then more—

She grabs my hand, her face seething like a kettle.

"Haha… I didn't mean to slap twice, only once—"

"Just shut up!" She breathes, in and out, tears welling. "Shut up and let me talk!"

Her face red, she crosses her arms, looking at me like I'm a piece of shit.

Well, why did I slap her, indeed? I should've just punched. Bet she wouldn't make such a face.

"Look," I force myself to say. "I'm sorry. I really am. But…"

"But?" she asks, her expression soothing.

"I really doubt this is gonna be the first and only time…"

Mira blinks blankly, looking at me like I'm not worth being a piece of shit.

"Just move on." Before I slam that annoying face of yours.

"No! I'm not just going to move on! Who do you think you are, ordering me around like that?!"

I can just beat the living shit out of you and interrogate you, young lady.

I am an Archdemon, after all. A reincarnated evil incarnate.

Kid. Who do you think you are?

"Princess Mira, please forgive this humble uncle of yours."

Mira tilts her head to the side, hmphing and crossing her arms like a dejected camel.

I can just relaunch that goblin's head at you, young lady. This time not as a boulder, but bolder as a fucking torpedo that will wreck you from the inside out.

I am a fucking Archdemon, after all. A being who's supposed to enjoy beating women and eats children.

"You can't even spell my name correctly! It's Ma—ri! Mari! Marisella! Not Mira! Who the heck is Mira?!"

Fucking children. Fucking kid. What lets you think you can behave like that before me? I call you whatever the fuck I want whenever, wherever.

"Princess Mari~ I'm really, really, really— sorry!"

"You what? How sincere. I almost believed you. Maybe if you say it one more time—"

I grab her shoulders, forcing her to look at me, piercing holes through her with my eyes.

"I SAID I'm fucKING SORRY!"

"I-I-I forgi-i-ve yo-you!"

"APOLOGIZE!"

"I-I sorry– me— I'm sowwy- so!"

Good. As the old saying goes, if violence doesn't work, use more violence and it'll work— or something like that.

I let her off, patiently waiting before my patience runs dry.

"So? Why are you staring at me like that? Do you envy my impeccable outfit?"

"Umm… That's mine—"

"I knew it. You want my hat, Princess Miamor? That's a no-no. This hat is a trophy I won after a grueling match."

She massages her eyes, on the brink of collapse, her face on the precipice of constipation.

"Let's make rule number two… You don't call me a princess, call me Mari, and don't physically harass me."

"That's three fucking rules."

"Okay! You don't physically and mentally harass me, okay?"

"That's still two you fucking idiot."

"Aghhhhhh!"

She grabs onto her ears, shaking and watching the ceiling with desperate eyes.

Girl, you just dissed the gods minutes ago. Don't seek help from above. What, do you think they'll just forgive you like I did? They're no demons. And you're no Mary Sue.

"Just don't harass me!"

That's too tall of an order. Not harass her? Where's the fun in all that?

"I refuse," I say.

She's like an anti-stress. Whenever I'm feeling like shit, I make her feel like shit, and I don't feel like shit anymore.

"Then I'll call you aunty!" she shouts at me, pointing at me like a smartass as if she's just found a cure for cancer.

"Aunty Chan!"

"My-my," I smile brightly, adapting a feminine voice. "How wonderful! I've never been called that before!"

She looks at me like a zombie.

"Were you a woman in your past life…?" she asks, petrified. "Never mind. If you don't respect me—I'm not going to talk!"

She crosses her arms, raising her chin to the left with an expression a disappointed aunty would make.

"I respect you," I tell her. "Is that it? Will you stop whining and become more productive now? Why didn't you tell me this from the beginning."

Mari gapes, her lips twitching. "Not by words, but by actions! Don't behave like a stray dog! If you call me a princess, then treat me with half the respect a princess gets!"

No, no way. That's too, too tall of an order. Wait.

"I'm deeply sorry, Mademoiselle. Please forgive my impudence."

I bend on my knee, grab her hand, kiss it, then caress it like a prince.

I look at her miserably. "How can I atone for my sins…"

Her eyes well in discomfort, her chin swinging left and right.

"Can you behave like an adult?" the kid asks after a long pause. "Please, Uncle."

Suddenly I feel like I'm the immature one.

Good. My acting played well, it paid off.