I watched her eat in silence.
The sound of rice against a wooden bowl echoed softly through the dungeon corridor.
After she finished her meal, Mira pced the empty bowl down carefully.
Carefully enough that I noticed. Which meant she didn’t hate the food.
“Mira.”
She stiffened instantly, spoon freezing mid-air.
“What?”
“I’m not going to kill you.”
Her grip tightened so hard I thought the bowl might crack.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m recruiting you.”
She snapped her head up so fast it probably vioted several neck safety regutions.
“What...?”
“I need a human,” I continued calmly. “Someone who actually knows how humans live. How they think. How they build things. Not the fantasy version written in demon prophecies by paranoid idiots.”
She stared at me like I’d finally lost my mind.
“You want me,” she said slowly, “to help demons live better...?”
“Yes.”
She ughed. It wasn’t cheerful. It was sharp. Bitter. Like something that had been broken a long time ago and never fixed properly.
“That’s crazy,” she said. “After everything I said?”
“After everything,” I nodded. “Because you hate demons.”
“That’s your reason?”
“Exactly,” I replied. “If even you admit we’re doing something right, then I know I’m not delusional.”
She clenched her jaw. “And if I refuse?”
“Then you stay here,” I shrugged. “Alive. Annoyed. Probably bored.”
She gred. “That’s not mercy.”
“No,” I agreed. “It’s efficiency.”
I leaned closer to the bars.
“I’ll spare your life,” I said quietly. “You teach me what humans do. How they survive. How they turn trash into progress.”
Her eyes flicked away.
“Like Zone 3,” she muttered.
“Yes,” I said. “Starting with that.”
She swallowed. “And after that?”
I straightened.
“When demons live better,” I said, “when pces like Zone 3 stop looking like a ndfill for forgotten lives—”
I met her eyes.
“—I’ll release you.”
Her breath hitched.
“You swear...?”
“I don’t swear,” I replied. “I announce.”
[Announcement: Demon Lord has proposed a conditional human cooperation contract.]
[Announcement: Probability of Demon Lord being maniputed by a human: 62%.]
[Announcement: Demon Lord refuses to acknowledge this.]
“Stop narrating my life,” I muttered.
Mira stared at me, emotions crashing behind her eyes—anger, doubt, and a hope she clearly hated herself for feeling.
“If you’re lying...” she said quietly, “I’ll kill you.”
“That’s fair,” I replied. “Just make sure to wait your turn.”
She scoffed. “You’re insane.”
“Probably,” I said. “But I’m the Demon Lord.”
She looked down at the rice again.
Then, after a long pause.
“…Fine,” she whispered. “I’ll teach you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That was fast.”
She snapped back instantly, cheeks red. “I’m only doing this so I can go home!”
“Of course,” I nodded seriously. “Purely professional cooperation.”
“I still hate demons.”
“Good,” I said. “You’ll fit right in.”
I cpped my hands. “We start now!”
“Now?!” Mira nearly dropped the bowl. “You don’t even give orientation?!”
“I don’t like wasting time,” I said. “Also, I’m starting to hate rice.”
She stared at me. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
She rubbed her temples. “Fine. What do you want to learn first?”
I thought hard.
“Food,” I said. “Reliable food. Something that grows in bad soil. Low maintenance.”
She froze.
“…Potatoes.”
“Yes,” I snapped my fingers. “Those. The round dirt things.”
She sighed deeply. “I can’t believe I’m about to teach agriculture to the ruler of demons.”
“I’m letting you out of the cell,” I told Mira calmly, unlocking the bars, “but don’t get the wrong idea... I’m not setting you free.”
She immediately frowned. “Then take these off,” she said, raising her cuffed wrists.
“No,” I replied ftly. “You’re released from jail, not from supervision.”
I snapped my fingers and called out, “Sparky. Guard.”
Both of them showed up instantly.
“You two are coming with us,” I said, gncing back at Mira. “Keep an eye on her. If she even thinks about running—”
Mira clicked her tongue in annoyance.
“—you stop her,” I finished. “This is a field trip, not an escape attempt.”
---
[Announcement: The Demon Lord, guards, and a human have entered Zone 3.]
The moment the announcement echoed through Zone 3, everything stopped.
A demon carrying a broken toaster froze mid-step.
Another demon who was arguing with a chair that had lost three legs slowly turned around.
“…Did the announcement just say human?” one whispered.
“No, no,” another replied confidently. “It said humid. Must be weather-reted.”
Mira walked behind me, still handcuffed, eyes scanning the area with curiosity she tried very hard to hide.
A small demon suddenly pointed at Mira, eyes wide.
“MY LORD?! WHY IS THE HUMAN WALKING AND NOT IN JAIL?!”
Another demon gasped dramatically.
“IS THIS A NEW PUNISHMENT METHOD? Psychological damage?!”
A third demon squinted at Mira. “She doesn’t look very tortured.”
Mira crossed her arms, acting cool. “Disappointed?”
The demons recoiled.
“SHE SPOKE.”
“SHE’S CONFIDENT.”
I sighed. “Calm down. She’s… a guest.”
“A GUEST?!” several demons shouted in unison.
“With handcuffs,” one demon added, nodding seriously. “Very polite guest.”
Mira gnced at the cuffs, then at me. “You really had to keep these on, huh?”
“Yes,” I replied immediately.
She clicked her tongue but didn’t argue, instead crouching slightly to look at a demon struggling to lift a broken fridge.
“You’re weird,” she muttered to me as she stood back up.
“Takes one to know one,” I replied.
She snorted before she could stop herself—then immediately looked away, annoyed at her own reaction.
The demons stared.
“…Did the human just ugh?”
“At the Demon Lord?”
[Announcement: Demon Lord continues to confuse both demons and humans.]
“…I hate this pce,” Mira muttered.
I smiled. “Give it time.”
Zone 3 smelled exactly like it looked.
Trash piles. Broken tools. Scraps of metal. Soil so abused it barely deserved the name.
Mira stared at the nd in silence.
“Humans would’ve given up on this pce,” she muttered.
I crossed my arms. “Then they’d starve.”
She clicked her tongue. “You don’t pnt randomly. You prepare the soil first.”
“Ah,” I nodded. “So we yell at it?”
“No!” She gred. “Do you want crops or curses?”
“…Crops.”
She sighed and knelt, scooping dirt into her hands.
“Potatoes grow underground,” she expined. “They don’t need perfect conditions. Just loose soil, water, and time.”
I stared at the dirt. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Humans are cheating.”
She snorted despite herself. Then froze, realizing she’d ughed.
I pretended not to notice.
We worked side by side.
Me awkwardly holding a shovel like it might explode.
Mira correcting my posture with sharp words and sharper gres. “No, like this.”
“Why is farming harder than war?”
“Because pnts don’t fear you.”
That one hurt.
At some point, my hands got dirty. Really dirty. I stared at them. “Is this how humanity begins?”
She looked at me.
For a moment, her expression softened.
Just a little.
Then...
[Announcement: Demon Lord has touched dirt voluntarily.]
“I WILL SHUT YOU DOWN,” I shouted to the sky.
Mira ughed.
She cpped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in disbelief.
“You’re really like this,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Different...” She smiled.
I looked away.
---
By sunset, we had rows.
Messy. Uneven. Questionable.
But pnted.
Mira wiped sweat from her brow. “If demons don’t stomp on them… they’ll grow.”
“I’ll make it illegal,” I said immediately.
She blinked. “What?”
“Stomping crops. Capital crime.”
She stared. “You’re serious?”
“Extremely.”
[Announcement: Stomping on crops will be identified as a crime.]
“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.
I paused.
“Because ruling over suffering is easy,” I said. “Fixing it isn’t.”
She looked at the soil again.
“My parents,” she said suddenly. “They were killed by demons.”
I didn’t speak.
“They told me demons were monsters,” she continued. “That you only understand force.” She ughed bitterly. “But you’re out here… pnting vegetables.”
I shrugged. “Revolutions start small.”
She gnced at me. “You really think humans and demons can live together?”
“I don’t think,” I said. “I pn.”
She scoffed. “Idiot.” Then smirked faintly. And for the first time... The hatred in her eyes wasn’t the only thing there anymore.