Chapter 8 – The Butcher Wore a Cloak

The city glimmered with lights, but underneath, it stank of rot.

Eren stood with his hood drawn low, staring down at the swine-faced demon before him.

Obama.

His true form was pig-like—snout, tusks, and squinty eyes—but now he wore a stolen human face. One of many.

"Still pretending to be human?" Eren said coldly.

Obama flinched. "It's the only way I survived here."

"You survived by helping them sell our kind like cattle."

"I passed information. I didn't have a choice!"

Eren crouched, locking eyes with him. "You always have a choice. You just chose to live like a rat."

Obama looked away. "There are... two auction houses. The nobles move slaves like spices. Tonight, one is active—South Market"

Eren stood. "Good. Then we'll make them bleed." 

Underground Slave Auction – Midnight

Torchlight flickered on golden statues and chained bodies.

Human nobles clapped and laughed as a half-lizard girl was dragged on stage.

"She bites," the announcer said cheerfully. "But we removed the teeth. Ten gold?"

Hands raised.

Chains rattled.

Then—

CRASH.

The ceiling exploded into stone and ash.

Three figures dropped into the center of the hall. Dust settled.

The nobles froze.

A voice cut through the silence like a blade:

"You're selling my people...

...Now let me show you how I do the buying."

What Followed Wasn't a Fight. It Was a Slaughter.

Zenis moved first—his twin snakes leapt from his arms, coiling around a guard's throat. The man screamed as he was pulled into the air, feet kicking.

Jessy's claws gleamed red as she danced through the crowd, slashing open bellies and throats, blood spraying like fountains. One noble begged. She cut out his tongue.

But it was Eren…

Eren who made the room freeze.

He grabbed the auctioneer by the face.

With one hand, he tore the man's jaw from his skull.

With the other, he cracked open a noble's chest and yanked out a beating heart.

People screamed. Ran. Cried.

Eren didn't chase them. He let them run — let them carry fear like a plague.

He looked at the slaves in the cages.

Some stared. Some wept. Most couldn't believe it.

Chains snapped—not from magic, but from sheer force. The locks rusted and fell apart under Eren's glare.

"You're free," he growled. "Now go remind this city what freedom feels like."

The Demon King's Message

Hours later, the city was in chaos.

Fires. Screams. Blood in the fountains.

But something even worse spread through the streets: whispers.

Obama in human form, ran from alley to alley.

"The Demon King has returned—he ripped a noble in half!"

"He eats hearts. He drinks blood."

"He freed the slaves. And said he's just getting started…"

The nobles locked their gates. The church rang warning bells. The city guard abandoned their posts.

And somewhere on a rooftop, Eren stood beside Jessy and Zenis, watching the smoke rise.

He said nothing.

He didn't need to.

Because fear was doing the talking now.