L'Opéra De Géhenne III

"Hey, Princess," I call, nudging Mari's shoulder. "She's staring at me. You think she's into me or something?"

"Umm… no," Mari says annoyedly after mild deliberation. "I think she's admiring the treasures you have."

I look down at my balls. Not tennis balls, not footballs, "literal fucking cannonballs, I kid you not, kid."

How did these shits even grow back?

I should try burning them later…

"You are not envious, are you?" I ask Mari, elbowing her with a smile.

I can't be the only one suffering.

Passive aggression is the best way to fuck up someone's mood.

"Don't be. Although, I don't think they'll grow any more after your age," I muse.

I giggle lightly, bringing my hand up against my cheek like a bitch I am.

My eyes smile too, toyingly. "How unfortunate~"

Bullying children and behaving like a baby.

How low can a man fall? I wouldn't know.

I'm not a man, after all.

"I couldn't care less," Mari says tiltingly. "Didn't you say for yourself that those are but a curse, no? Still, if you like them, then I'm glad for you."

"I couldn't agree more," Vampire says noddingly. "Besides there is a balance to everything. At that size those look rather unpleasant to the eyes most certainly."

Murdering children and women doesn't suddenly seem as bad as it did.

"Plentiful men most evidently fuck anything as long as it has a hole in it," she follows, stepping forth and standing before the kid and me, glancing down at us with her deep crimson gaze one by one before her naturally narrowed eyes fall on Mari.

"So don't despair kiddo. Ha! You're too young to think about such matters anyway."

I cross my hands, nodding approvingly.

Perhaps we finally have somebody with a shred of common sense amongst us.

"Don't be mean like that," she then says, pointing at me lazily with her arm half-raised.

"You will come to realize that siblings most definitely are irreplaceable as you grow. So be a kind kid."

Did this bitch just call me a kid?

"In any case," she tsks, then lefts and lifts her head, her exposed neck thin yet tall, egregiously tall. "Where are we?"

"Are you guys responsible for my transmigration?" she asks with a huff. "Should I call it a reincarnation instead? I don't seem to be in my body completely."

"We partially are responsible," I tell her, admiring her willowy swanlike shoulders. "You don't seem to care."

"Hmh." She nods with a puff. "So what kind of world are we in? What's precisely required of me mostly? Were you two the ones conducting the survey? You don't expect me to just go along with this shit now do you? Shit was so painful I don't remember shit."

I can hear Mari exhaling, upping her hand to her arching brows. "Wonderful… how one wasn't enough… now I have to deal with the two of them… Fantastic."

What is she blabbering about?

The vampire girl is completely fine.

In every meaning of the word.

I'm glad I'm still into women.

"So?" she presses. "Do I have to kill a Demon King or something? Do I get to have a harem full of adventurers with tragic backstories? I won't settle for less needless to say. I will quit most definitely if it seems boring."

Very reasonable.

I concur with that.

But fate is a bitch.

"Basically, you become my bitch," I say, pointing at her with a blank expression. "I was an old dude that got summoned to this world and met the kid beside me. It's apparently a battle royale between me and the six other Archdemons. We each control dungeons, raise troops, and amass resources. The winner becomes The Demon King."

I point above and say, "Then we summoned you."

"I see I see… hmh," she whispers noddingly, brushing the dark chocolate strands of her messy hair that frame her face and flow down to her chest.

"Hmh. So you're also from Earth?" she asks, rapping her fingers against her giraffe neck. "You most probably don't possess many memories too now do you?"

I simply nod. "Any other questions?"

"Unneeded," she says, running a hand through her messy hair, her crimsony eyes cloudy yet clever, her ears long and triangular, yet not close as long and pointy as the corpse of an elf lying beside us. "I can for sure become your bitch. Though if you prove to be boring I may butcher you most reliably you see."

"Fine by me," I claim, extending my hand. "You call me…"

"Your Devilship Chan."

She claims my hand. "Your Devilship Chan? Though Chan is a lame name so if you pardon me I'd rather settle with merely Your Devilship. I'm Na… whatever—

"I dunno. I forgot you see. Just call me Nan."

"Sure thing, Nan," I say, shaking our hands.

"Sure thing Your Devilship," she says, watching me emptily.

My hand fucking hurts, but I refrain from twitching my eyes. I can't let anybody know what I got…

Codex of Truthfulness

You are forbidden from knowingly lying. Your lungs seize the very moment deception forms in your mind. Your throat constricts and you choke to your death the very moment a lie crosses your tongue. Nothing can bypass the curse. Whether clever wording or mental trickery. The Codex knows the intent before you speak.

You become more susceptible to lies while unable to distinguish falsehood from reality—your natural skepticism is stripped away. You will act on falsehoods as if they are absolute truths. Your mind struggles to reject the lie even when faced with proof of betrayal.

Your senses are sharpened to unnatural levels where every touch is three times as intense. Pain is amplified beyond limits. All hit threefold.

First my balls. Now my ass. This bitch better be worth it.

I smile at her. "I really hope you are useful."

She smiles back. "Your Devilship your eyes hide your pain most definitely."

I look down at her pale hand, pale as a porcelain doll.

Her skin shines, slender, yet her hands and arms are not. They are a bit fat and rather muscular, unlike her graceful body and elegant face.

Her red gown presses against her skin, delicate and thin, going up her chest. 

I press her hand hard.

She hitches, shuddering, blinking with dark lashes.

Nan then looks at me with pain drawn on her oval and mildly angular face, her cheekbones high and her jawline sharp.

Her soft lips part and further down, alluringly.

"Nan, your eyes…"

"They hide suffering behind nonchalance."

"Hatred. Misery. Betrayal. Indignation."

My smile deepens unbeknownst to me.

I look up, savoring the fear and shock—dread—on her face.

I love it.

And I'm enamored by it.

Cursed, I am, and,

"Pain, you say? You would be right," I say, tilting my head sideways, glaring at her emptily, expressionless.

"But no amount of pain can overcome me," I state truthfully, letting go of her reddened hand and turning to Mari.