“Wear this.”

  Mira shoved something tall, floppy, and aggressively colorful into my hands.

  I stared at it.

  It was a hat.

  A very tall hat.

  Decorated with… fruits. Bananas. Apples. Grapes. Wearing sungsses.

  “…Is this a ritual object?” I asked carefully.

  “No compints,” Mira snapped instantly.

  I closed my mouth.

  Charmie, on the other hand, immediately snatched one and plopped it on her head with sparkling eyes. “This is cute!”

  I squinted at her. “Your standards are dangerously low.”

  Mira crossed her arms. “They cover your horns. That’s the point.”

  Grando adjusted hers with a frown. “The bance is… inefficient.”

  Then I looked at the shirts we were wearing now.

  Potato shirts.

  Not normal potatoes.

  Potatoes with eyes.

  And lips.

  And a deeply disturbing smile.

  I stretched and pulled mine outward, offended on a spiritual level.

  “I’m disappointed in you,” I told Mira seriously. “You have no taste.”

  Charmie tilted her head, clearly delighted.

  “We look adorable, My Lord.” She winked.

  Mira groaned. “That’s the only one with buy two get three tags.”

  Grando stared down at hers in silence. It barely reached past her ribs.

  “This does not fit me,” she said quietly.

  I sighed. “Poor Grando…”

  “Think of it as a crop top,” Mira said.

  All three of us blinked.

  “What is a crop top, My Lord?” Grando asked.

  I shrugged. “I am unsure. Mira, does it involve crops?”

  Charmie brightened. “Will it grow vegetables?”

  Mira looked like her soul was leaving her body.

  “It’s a clothing style!”

  She rubbed her temples. “All of you drain my mental health more than my job.”

  “At least you’re showing emotions now,” I smiled innocently.

  She gred at me with murderous intent.

  “I really want to kill you, Getgun.”

  I chuckled. “It’s been a while since I heard that name.”

  She did not smile.

  I immediately panicked.

  “I-I’m sorry! That was too far!” I knelt instantly.

  Grando and Charmie froze, then followed suit out of reflex.

  Silence.

  Then...

  Thud!

  Charmie’s fruit hat fell off.

  Mira inhaled deeply.

  Very deeply...

  ---

  Night had already fallen by the time we stepped outside, having waited until Mira finally returned home from work City lights stretched endlessly, glowing like artificial stars. Cars passed by with soft hums, signs flickered, buildings towered above us like modern fortresses.

  I stared.

  “So shiny…” Charmie whispered reverently.

  Grando adjusted her posture. “The architecture is… aggressive.”

  “Are you sure it’s not weird being cuffed here?” I asked quietly.

  Mira gnced back at us. “In Tokyo? Yes, it’s weird,” she said ftly. “But it’s night, not many people are around. If anyone asks, just tell them you’re cospying.”

  I nodded.

  At least this time, I wasn’t cuffed to Grando or Charmie.

  Instead... Mira held my hand.

  Firmly. Dragging me forward.

  “Stick. Close.” She ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Charmie gasped loudly. “My Lord! The lights! They’re like fireflies trapped in gss!”

  “Lower your voice,” Mira hissed.

  Grando leaned closer to a vending machine. “Is this a magic altar?”

  I squinted at it. “It demands currency. Dangerous.”

  [Announcement: The Demon Lord has mistaken modern infrastructure for divine artifacts.]

  Geez...

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Supermarket.” Mira replied.

  “Super… what?”

  Charmie’s eyes sparkled. “Does it contain great power?”

  Mira sighed.

  ---

  The doors slid open automatically.

  Charmie screamed. “THE WALL MOVED ITSELF!”

  Grando froze. “Hostile?”

  I raised my hands. “Peaceful intentions!”

  Mira dragged us inside before security could notice.

  Rows upon rows of shelves stretched endlessly. Colors. Packaging. Foods from every direction.

  “Is this pce the same size as our castle?” Charmie whispered.

  Grando nodded. “Possibly rger.”

  I felt my chest tighten, “so much food…”

  Mira noticed.

  “We start from here,” she said, pulling us toward the vegetable section.

  We immediately sat down in front of her. “Okay!” all three of us replied in unison.

  She froze.

  People stared.

  “Get up,” she hissed. “Act normal!”

  We scrambled to our feet.

  Mira ended up turning the vegetable aisle into an impromptu cssroom.

  “This,” she said, holding up a long green thing, “is a cucumber. Edible. Watery. Crunchy. Used in sads. Occasionally pickled.”

  Charmie squinted at it. “It looks like an unripe snake.”

  Grando nodded seriously. “Noted. Snake vegetable.”

  “No,” Mira snapped. “It’s not a snake.”

  I raised my hand. “Edible. Watery. Crunchy. Used in sads. Occasionally pickled. Cucumber!”

  Mira paused. Slowly turned to look at me. “You got all that from one expnation?”

  I puffed my chest proudly. “I am the Demon Lord. Observation is my specialty.”

  She clicked her tongue. “You’re not as dumb as I thought. Not bad.”

  Meanwhile, Charmie was holding a cabbage, a cucumber, and a corn side by side. “So which one explodes when cut?”

  “None of them,” Mira said, exhausted.

  Grando tried to help by reciting seriously, “Long yellow one is… pumpkin?”

  “That’s a corn,” Mira corrected.

  Grando stiffened. “Understood. Fake pumpkin.”

  In the end, Mira gave up on efficiency and tossed one of everything into the cart—especially for Charmie and Grando—muttering something about “visual memory” and “repetition through suffering.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, then sighed. “Tomorrow, I’ll teach you how to cook them. Properly. And how to combine them into actual food.”

  Charmie beamed. “Cooking magic!”

  “It’s not magic,” Mira said ftly.

  I smiled anyway. “Still sounds like sorcery to me.”

  [Announcement: The Demon Lord has successfully entered an educational side quest.]

  ---

  Back home, Mira cuffed us again.

  Grando and Charmie colpsed almost instantly after we got back, their bodies surrendering to exhaustion like soldiers after an overlong lecture.

  Grando sat down with perfect posture out of habit, muttering something about “efficient learning methods,” before her eyes slid shut.

  Charmie didn’t even make it that far—she flopped onto the floor dramatically, one arm stretched out as if she had died memorizing carrots.

  I watched them for a moment, then turned to Mira as she knelt to secure the handcuff around my wrist and the leg of the sofa.

  “Thanks,” I said quietly. “For teaching us.”

  Her hands paused for half a second. She didn’t answer.

  She stood up, brushing her knees, already turning toward her room like she always did—like retreating was easier than responding.

  “Mira,” I called.

  She stopped. Slowly, she turned back, her expression tired but attentive.

  “I hope you have a nice sleep,” I said, smiling, trying to make it sound casual.

  For a moment, she just stared at me, as if she didn’t know what to do with words that weren’t demanding, mocking, or suspicious. Then she looked away.

  “Good night,” I muttered as I y back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

  I finally saw one of the best thing about the Human Realm was that I could sleep in any pose I wanted, no coffin, no mummy position, and honestly, that alone almost made getting handcuffed worth it.

  What I didn’t see...

  Was Mira, pausing at her door.

  And smiling, just a little, before quietly closing it.