Withdrawal Symptoms!

Withdrawal Symptoms!

Demon City Bank.

A sharp cry suddenly rang out from one of the deposit and withdrawal counters.

"How much?!"

The pigman security guard in uniform glanced toward the counter. Seeing that it was only an ugly human, he snorted and turned his face away.

Looking at Leon, whose mouth hung open wide enough to fit an egg inside, the goblin girl behind the bank counter shyly stole a glance at him.

"Two million Keila... Sir, are you sure you want to withdraw all of it?"

Looking closely, this customer was actually rather handsome.

Although humans held a lower status in Hell than High-level Demons, rarity had its value.

Besides, she had heard that other than their noses and ears being shorter than goblins', humans were longer than goblins in every way.

If he was willing to treat her to dinner, she would not mind lowering herself a little...

"No need. Just... withdraw ten thousand first." Leon steadied himself and quickly calmed down from his shock.

He had originally assumed there would be at most a few thousand Keila on the card. After all, his living expenses were only around one or two thousand. He had never imagined that the balance would have seven digits! Could Jeffrey Priest have copied down the bank card number and password incorrectly? Had he mailed Leon the card he used to hide his private savings...

Though he knew the chances of that happening were practically zero, Leon could not help worrying.

He would take a detour later and visit Jeffrey Priest on Fierce Ghost Street in the West District.

If there really had been a mistake, he needed to return the money to the old man.

The goblin behind the counter counted and recounted ten thousand-Keila bills before finally stacking them neatly on a brass tray.

These fireproof banknotes were Hell's largest denomination. It was said that even after rolling through lava, they would not catch fire.

It was rather sobering to think about. Leon had lived in Hell for eighteen years, yet this was the first time he had seen money of such a large denomination. Even holding it in his hand made his palm feel hot.

"Sir, please check the amount."

The goblin behind the counter reminded him in a shrill voice, winding her hooked index finger around the tip of her ear, which was longer than her face.

Leon unexpectedly realized that goblins actually had rather expressive faces. Before this, he had always thought all they knew how to do was eat.

After all, he had only ever seen them in the cafeteria of West Tower.

"Alright, thank you."

Without saying anything else, he stuffed the money into his wallet and strode out of the bank beneath the astonished gaze from behind the counter.

The goblin's green skin gradually flushed into a liverish red that no foundation could conceal, while her affectionate gaze became etched with a vicious curse.

Ugly human trash, so rude! Poor bastard, what were you showing off for! Disgusting! Dumb shrimp! ￥%￥#@!

Fierce Ghost Street in Demon City's West District was filled with all manner of demonfolk.

Some were as tall as giants, some as short as dwarves, some had countless legs, and others had eyes covering half their faces... Some did not resemble mammals at all, instead being giant insects capable of doing the butterfly stroke through lava, or seemingly harmless but extremely dangerous carnivorous plants.

Unlike High-level Demons, who possessed distinct traits, the low-level demons who made up the overwhelming majority of Hell had mixed bloodlines and no definite race. They were collectively referred to as "demonfolk."

The term was mainly used to distinguish them from higher demons.

In this day and age, the concept of demons had long since broadened. Only antiques like Headmaster Aiven, who had lived for a thousand years, liked to split hairs over identities.

The younger generation of demons no longer cared.

The temple served by Jeffrey Priest stood on just such a street. When Leon stepped into the area, he could clearly feel the surrounding gazes becoming much more piercing.

In Hell, humans who were not clergy stood out far too much... so much that everyone could not help wanting a taste.

And that was one reason Leon had rarely "come home" since enrolling at Demon Lord Academy.

Jeffrey Priest had just finished his evening prayers.

When he saw Leon appear at the temple entrance, a kind smile spread across his deeply wrinkled face, as though he were seeing his own grandson.

"I just received your letter. How come you're already here?"

"I missed you."

Leon chuckled and lifted the basket in his hand. Inside were some local Hell specialties: Fire Pig Fruit and bread.

He had bought all these gifts from roadside vendors before entering this street.

"You needn't be so polite. The temples in Demon City have never lacked food. You'd be better off donating that spare money to children in remote areas."

Though he said so, Jeffrey Priest still accepted the things from Leon with a smile, then said in an offhand tone, "You came here because of the bank card, didn't you?"

"I still can't hide anything from you..." Seeing that the old man had seen through him, Leon stopped concealing it and admitted it with an awkward laugh.

Jeffrey Priest wore an expression that said he had known all along and casually cracked a joke.

"Did the amount give you a fright?"

"Yeah... I was wondering, when did you get so rich?"

Jeffrey shot Leon, who had no filter, a glance, then handed the basket in his hands to a nun who stepped forward, telling her to take it to the kitchen.

There was a lot of food.

Enough for the orphanage children at the temple to have for dinner.

After finishing that, he looked at Leon and spoke seriously.

"I should have told you in the letter. This money was left to you by your father."

Leon fell silent for a moment, then nodded.

"I know. It's just... how should I put it? The amount caught me off guard? Even if I wanted to thank him, I'd need to know his name first."

He wasn't sure what he was feeling, either.

That man, who had refused to reveal even his name, had never appeared in the first eighteen years of Leon's life. And now he had suddenly thrown a huge sum of money in front of him...

Jeffrey Priest was silent for a moment, his gaze shifting toward the chapel behind him.

"Your father... couldn't acknowledge you for certain reasons. He could only offer you some help through me. I don't like that man, but I can tell that he loves you, and that he truly did this for your sake."

Leon nodded.

"All right. Let's say that's how it is."

Jeffrey Priest raised an eyebrow slightly.

"I thought you'd press me for his name."

"What's the point of asking the same thing over and over? You've refused to tell me all these years. Besides, I'm not the type to force myself on someone who doesn't want me. If he thinks this is better, then so be it." Leon gave a smile that was both helpless and carefree. "Anyway, to me, you're my father."

A faint smile appeared on Jeffrey Priest's face, but he quickly put on a stern expression and coughed.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, but considering my age... it would be more appropriate for you to call me Grandpa."

"Sure, as long as you're happy." Leon laughed.

Jeffrey nodded, placing a broad hand on Leon's shoulder. A trace of nostalgia surfaced in his eyes, as though he had remembered someone.

Only after a long while did he slowly speak.

"Your eyes resemble your mother's, like obsidian... When she was your age, she gave me no end of trouble. Every time, I was terrified she'd get into some kind of mess, so worried I couldn't sleep. And sure enough, she didn't disappoint me—eighteen years ago, she did something big."

"Something big?" Leon blurted out, quickly realizing he had spoken out of turn.

"That's right. You." Jeffrey gave Leon a meaningful look and continued at an even pace. "And it was precisely because of your troublemaking mother and your indecisive father that I was always worried I wouldn't raise you well... But in the end, you exceeded all my expectations."

"Sometimes, I even feel that you aren't like a child at all. You're more mature than your mother and more decisive than your father, and all of that happened while you were still so young. Whenever I think of it, I feel both proud of you and ashamed—"

"Please don't say that." Leon lightly coughed, interrupting the old man. "I'm already very grateful that you raised me to this age."

Jeffrey smiled and replied kindly.

"Is that so? Thank you for comforting me. What I wanted to say was, although I haven't been a very competent godfather, I've always regarded you as my own child... Please forgive me. This is all the help I can give you. From here on, you'll have to walk your own path."

Faced with that encouraging gaze, Leon answered with a reassuring smile.

"Please don't say that. You've already helped me so much! As for the road ahead, I can handle it myself! Besides, I've already decided where I'm going next."

"Then go. Do what you want to do."

Jeffrey Priest gently patted Leon's shoulder, like a real father. His eyes shone with pride and approval.

"If one day you feel tired, come back here and sit for a while."

"I'll always be here."

The light spilling down from the dome gradually merged with the edge of night.

At night, the Demon Capital was like a yawning dragon drifting off to sleep, with only the scattered afterglow of streetlamps and lava decorating its streets and alleys.

At Jeffrey Priest's invitation, Leon had dinner with everyone at the temple orphanage for the first time in a long while, then spent the night in the dormitory where he had once lived for sixteen years.

It was a dormitory converted from an old chapel, with more than thirty beds lined up in a spacious communal room. All the temple-raised orphans lived there.

The orphans came in all kinds of races—cyclopes, tentacle demons, horsefolk, catfolk, and even slimes.

As bedtime approached, a group of wingless "Little Devils" gathered around him, blinking their countless curious eyes and chattering as if they had endless things to say.

Come to think of it—

He had an inexplicable sense of déjà vu, as though something similar had happened not long ago.

"Brother Leon, I heard you're going to become the Demon King?!"

"Yay! I want to become the Demon King too!"

"I'll be your minion!"

"I'll be your bride!"

"That's wrong! How could the Demon King have a bride?!"

"Then I'll play a villager!"

"Eek—caught."

"Argh! Lock it up! Train it!"

"Alright, alright, stop arguing. Be careful, or you'll draw Jeffrey Priest over here."

Watching the little devils grow more and more outrageous, Leon hurriedly stepped in and chased them off his bed.

He always felt like something had gone wrong with this bunch's upbringing.

No, wait—

This was Hell.

By Hell's standards, there probably wasn't anything wrong with teaching them like this?

Watching the little devils finally fall into a deep sleep, Leon lay down on the bed as well.

He had originally planned to meditate for a while before bed and check the forum, but he was simply too exhausted. The moment his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in another world beyond the reach of the Amethyst Dome, closed beta players with nowhere to vent their energy had already cursed the Dog Devs over and over on the forums.

Boar-Headed Knight: "...%￥@#&! What the hell is the point of covering my face?! (Furious)"

Can't Afford to Play: "Dog Devs, come out and take your beating! (Furious)"

Minotaur Warrior: "Succubus!!! Succubus!!! Change the NPC!!!"

Tanghulu: "Damn it, I could see but not touch before, and now I can't even see her anymore!!!"

Roasted Mutton Skewer: "So itchy! It feels like ten thousand ants are crawling all over me!"

One Leaf Knows Autumn: "Are you guys okay... (Sweat)"

In his bedroom, Zhao JinYan stared blankly at the computer, so stunned that he didn't even notice the half-eaten popsicle in his hand falling to the floor.

Good lord.

They were already having withdrawal symptoms?! "This game..."

Was it really okay?