[Announcement: The Demon Lord has entered Zone 3.]

  The moment I stepped into Zone 3, I knew something was wrong.

  Not dangerous wrong.

  Not ominous demon fog wrong.

  It was the kind of wrong that made the back of my throat tighten and my brain quietly whisper:

  …This smells familiar.

  The air here was heavier.

  Not thick with magic like the Inner Realm, or bustling like Zone 2, but stale. Dusty. Metallic. Like burnt pstic after rain.

  I stopped walking.

  Charmie took two more steps before noticing I wasn’t beside her anymore.

  “Hm?” She turned back. “My lord?”

  I didn’t answer immediately.

  In front of us stretched rows of crooked buildings, some half-colpsed, others patched together with whatever materials happened to be lying around. The streets were cracked and uneven, littered with… things.

  Things that absolutely did not belong in a fantasy world.

  A rectangur bck sb with shattered gss.

  Bent metal frames with wires spilling out like exposed organs.

  Pstic shells, warped and half-melted, stacked near alleyways like offerings to a god of poor life choices.

  I stared.

  “…No way.”

  Charmie frowned. “Something wrong?”

  I crouched down and picked one of the objects up.

  Light. Too light.

  A broken tablet.

  The screen was spiderwebbed with cracks. Just dead technology.

  I flipped it over.

  A faded logo. Scratched edges.

  “…Huh,” I muttered. “That logo…”

  Charmie leaned in so close her hair brushed my cheek.

  “Oh! I know this one!” she said confidently.

  Then she paused.

  “…Wait. No. Do I?”

  She squinted hard, as if intimidation would force knowledge into existence.

  “It’s round… and shiny… and people bite it…”

  She snapped her fingers.

  “A tomato?”

  I stared at her.

  “No... wait!” she rushed. “A peach! Or… maybe a very angry berry?”

  “…Charmie.”

  She gasped. “Oh! A cherry! Two cherries! No... Why am I seeing two...”

  “It’s an apple...” I said ftly.

  ...

  Charmie froze.

  “…Oh.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You tried that hard. For an apple.”

  She ughed awkwardly. “Hehe… in my defense, fruits weren’t my strong subject.”

  “That wasn’t a subject,” I snapped. “That was basic survival knowledge.”

  She pouted. “You’re so mean for someone with a fruit-based destiny.”

  I showed my middle finger to her and stared at the tablet again.

  “Thank god you’re not my chef,” I muttered. “Talk suits you way better.”

  [Announcement: The Demon Lord has found an apple.]

  “…That sounds stupid,” I said ftly. “And somehow deeply misleading.”

  I stood and looked around again.

  "Anyway, this was human trash...”

  Charmie blinked.

  “Trash?”

  I gestured at the piles. “Broken electronics. Discarded machines. Stuff humans throw away when it stops working.”

  Charmie visibly recoiled.

  “My lord, please don’t touch those. Zone 3 is infected.”

  “Infected how?”

  She lowered her voice. “Those objects come from the Human Realm. We don’t understand how to operate them. The prophecy said their inner mechanisms leak… harmful energy.”

  “Harmful energy.”

  “Yes,” she said seriously. “Demons who touch them get sick. Fever. Sometimes death.”

  I slowly set the tablet down.

  “That’s not a virus...”

  Charmie tilted her head. “Then what is it?”

  I exhaled.

  “That,” I said, “is what happens when people don’t recycle.”

  She stared at me.

  I stared back.

  “…Is ‘recycle’ a forbidden technique?”

  “No,” I replied. “It’s a human responsibility.”

  A small group of demons watched us from a distance, peeking out from behind broken walls. Their clothes were patched. Their expressions cautious.

  They flinched when I looked at them.

  “Rex,” I said. “I’m not here to...”

  My nose twitched.

  Oh no.

  “…ah—”

  ACHOOOO!!

  Light exploded around me.

  [ACHOOOO!! Skill Activated!]

  My body sparkled violently.

  [Transforming…]

  [Announcement: Demon Lord successfully transformed into a female!]

  I staggered, then steadied myself.

  The demons screamed.

  “THE LORD SHINES!”

  “THE HOLY FORM!”

  "ALL HAIL LORD GETGUN!"

  I looked down.

  “…Great,” I muttered. “We’re back to this.”

  Charmie csped her hands together. “So pretty~”

  “Focus,” I snapped. “Stop enabling my suffering.”

  I rubbed my nose, then gred at the junk pile again.

  That’s when I saw it.

  Half-buried metal frame. Burn marks.

  “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Charmie leaned in. “What is it?”

  “A stove,” I said. “Or what’s left of one.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “I heard that relic creates fire without chanting?”

  “Yes,” I said. “And it’s broken.”

  The watching demons murmured.

  “She touched cursed metal…”

  “She didn’t flinch…”

  “The Demon Lord is immune…”

  I sighed.

  “Charmie,” I muttered, “please tell me no one tried to eat these.”

  She winced. “…Only once.”

  ...

  I raised my empty hand.

  Completely empty.

  Charmie gasped. “M-my lord?! What are you doing?”

  “Fixing it.”

  I straightened my posture.

  “System,” I said calmly, “grant me access to fire authority.”

  [System Response: Authority confirmed.]

  There was a sharp click in midair. Something materialized in my palm.

  Small. Metal. Rectangur.

  I blinked.

  “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  A lighter. Summoned. I surprised... Honestly I was just acting earlier.

  The demons lost their minds.

  “IT APPEARED FROM NOTHING!”

  "WHAT WAS THAT? A TOOL?

  Charmie colpsed to her knees. “My Lord! You can't! The prophecy said...!”

  “Ahem,” I said solemnly.

  “By ancient authority...”

  I flicked my thumb.

  Click.

  The street went dead silent.

  A gust of wind swept through.

  “DON’T LET THE FIRE BURN!” Charmie screamed.

  [System Loading…]

  [Initializing Skills…]

  [Acquired New Demon Lord Skill!]

  [Skill Name: DON’T LET THE FIRE BURN!]

  [DON’T LET THE FIRE BURN! Skill Activated!]

  The fme sparked to life from the lighter, small and steady.

  I turned slowly, “…What.”

  Charmie bowed so low her forehead hit the ground. “…I panicked… I'm very sorry...”

  “Great! I now wield a legendary fme technique,” I said ftly, “named after your anxiety.”

  [Announcement: Demon Lord has acquired a legendary fme skill. DON’T LET THE FIRE BURN!]

  It even perfectly mimicked Charmie’s tone, panic, pitch, and all... like the system had personally decided to bully me.

  “…I hate this system,” I whispered.

  The fme flickered on the stove.

  Steady.

  Mocking.

  Warm.

  “B-But... The prophecy said that fire not born from the nature of wood will bring great misfortune…” Charmie began ominously.

  That ancient prophecy, written by some paranoid boomer demon who probably got scared of a campfire once.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and cut her off.

  “Charmie.”

  “Yes?”

  “If you say the word prophecy one more time,” I said calmly, “I will personally throw you into the stove.”

  “…Understood,” she replied immediately.

  [Charmie Affection +3]