Demon County

Duomeng County

Late winter, Year 323 of the New Citizen Calendar, Mafa Continent. Duomeng County, Chris County, Uganda Province, Northern Kingdom.

Duomeng County was a typical mountainous county. Agriculture depended entirely on the flatlands around the river valleys, and under the annual assaults of wild beasts and monsters from the mountains, it could barely sustain a portion of its people. The county's greatest source of income was its mines. Nearly every able-bodied young man who had even a little strength worked at one of the mining sites scattered throughout the surrounding area.

Duomeng County was also the only county in Chris County without any nearby towns or villages. There was only one solitary city standing in the valley, hemmed in by mountains on all sides. The mountains were practically covered in mines, with roads stretching out from the city gates and winding into the hills.

At the entrance to Bianchi Mine, Dole painfully hauled himself up from the ground. Watching Aoduo and the others disappear after taking the three Mafa copper coins from his pocket, he let out a quiet breath. He felt neither regret nor resentment, because two Mafa copper coins still remained in his pocket—enough to live on for a day. His ragged clothes were covered in dirt, making him look exactly like a mud monkey.

Every morning, he came to Bianchi Mine to smash rocks, working from dawn until nightfall. Because he was thin and weak, he could only earn five Mafa copper coins a day. Five coins were barely one-fifth of what an adult earned. After choking on mine dust all day, he would return at night only to have three of those coins stolen. It would have been impossible for Dole not to resent it. But he was alone, while Aoduo had several hooligans under him and was also the son of Sam, one of the mine's minor supervisors. If Dole rose up and fought Aoduo, he would lose this job too. He still depended on those few coins to stay alive.

With a sigh, Dole dusted off his clothes, rubbed his aching arm where he had been kicked, and trudged toward his little nest.

The house had been left behind by his father, who had also been a miner. Two years ago, his father contracted pneumoconiosis and died in agony. After his father's death, his mother vanished one night without a trace, leaving him all alone. He had only barely survived by working at the mine every day.

Two years had now passed. The lively, happy Dole of the past had long since died, leaving behind only a Dole who struggled to survive, his expression numb.

He was twelve this year. By all rights, he should have been in school, but there was no school left for him to attend.

Bianchi Mine was still some distance from the city. On the way, one passed through a market where miners bought something to eat after work before heading home. It was also the largest market near Bianchi Mine.

Because Aoduo had robbed him, Dole was late getting back. There was no one on the road, and it was deathly quiet. Only when he passed through the market did he feel a burst of noise and bustle.

The moment he entered the market, a man approached him, stopped in front of Dole, and patted him on the shoulder. In a low, weary voice, he said, "Don't dwell on it. Go back and get some rest. You still have work tomorrow."

Dole looked at the man without speaking, then merely nodded.

This was a companion who worked alongside him, named Dodu Olem. He was thirty years old and had two sons of four or five. His entire family depended on this job to survive.

After Dodu left, Dole dragged his exhausted steps to the stall he usually visited. Carefully taking out a copper coin, he handed it to the woman selling food and said, "Three rice balls."

The woman looked at Dole without much expression. She took the coin and put it into the drawer beneath the counter, then deftly wrapped up three vegetable rice balls and handed them to him.

Dole lowered his head and accepted the rice balls with both hands. "Thank you." His hands were trembling at that moment. He was starving.

The woman said nothing. She was busy, with other customers to attend to.

Holding the rice balls, Dole stepped away from the stall. Trembling, he unwrapped one and quickly took a bite.

The vegetable rice balls had little nutrition, but they were the only thing Dole could afford that gave him the best value for his money.

Of the three rice balls, he needed to eat two before he felt even a little full. The last one was meant for a dog he had picked up a few days ago.

These past few days, Dole felt as if he had gone mad. He could barely feed himself and was nearly starving to death, yet he still had the heart to pity a dog.

But it was strange. The moment Dole first saw that dog, an odd feeling had risen in his heart. He simply wanted to raise it. He wanted it to live. Even if he could only feed it once a day, he wanted it to live.

As long as one lived, there was hope. That was something his father often said when he was alive.

Dole lived in the slums of Duomeng City, not far from the city gates. Once through the gates, one could see, to the left of the main road, swathes of low, dilapidated—even crumbling—houses. This was the infamous slum. Garbage, sewage, and mud grime lay everywhere, making the whole place filthy. No one managed this area. It was filled with impoverished people who could not get enough to eat; even thieves rarely came here.

Near the main road, row after row, women could be seen standing in their doorways, striking seductive poses. These women were ordinary in appearance, but cheap to keep; often, five copper coins bought an entire night. They were very inexpensive. Those women often stretched their pale legs out toward Dole too, but he never spared them a glance. He could barely fill his own stomach, much less support someone else. He could only look from the doorway and feast his eyes.

When he returned to his door and pushed it open, a gray-yellow-black striped dog happily darted out. It licked Dole's hand, its tail wagging so hard it seemed ready to take flight. Dole casually tossed it a vegetable rice ball.

"Aoduo, go eat."

He had named the dog Aoduo, and the thought still thrilled him. He wondered what expression Aoduo would wear if he heard that.

Aoduo glanced at the rice ball, seeming to hesitate for a moment. Then it snatched it up in its mouth and limped toward the room, its rump swaying as it walked and its tail wagging merrily.

The room was dim, with no lamp. Feeling his way to the bed, Dole lay down directly. A wave of exhaustion surged over him, and in less than a second, soft snores began to rise.

Before long, Aoduo hobbled over from the corner. This time, its tail was not wagging. Its eyes were filled with scrutiny and gravity as it looked at the sleeping Dole, its canine face brimming with complicated emotions.

"Who would have thought that I, Bal, the Hellhound, would survive on a few vegetable rice balls? This world truly is wondrous. The brat only eats this much in a day, yet he still shares some with me. It really moves this great magic hound. Fine, I'll stay here for a while. Once I recover one-tenth of my strength, I'll leave. This boy does seem fated to meet me, so I can give him a little benefit."

The Hellhound turned its head, looked around the room, and shook its head.

One tiny room, one bed, not a single piece of usable furniture in the house—this was Dole's home. And thieves dropped by from time to time as well. It truly was hard on the child.

Having lived here for a few days, Aoduo felt somewhat uncomfortable, but he also felt that he could not leave yet. He still owed the boy something.

That was true. Without those few lousy vegetable rice balls, he probably would not have survived.

He grew irritated. If it had not been for that bitch, how could he have lost to the Three-Tailed Fox and nearly died? Damn it. How could he have made such a low-level mistake? If Dole had not picked him up, he truly would have died.

Whenever he thought of it, the Hellhound's canine face filled with complicated emotions.

Looking at the soundly sleeping Dole, Aoduo the Hellhound opened his mouth and sprayed out a ray of five-colored light that flew toward Dole's head.

The light was tiny, only the size of a thumb. The moment it touched Dole's forehead, it swiftly vanished.

Dole did not know what had been happening these past few days. Every night, he had the same dream. In it, he became a gentleman dressed in strange clothes, able to wield a kind of flame with every gesture, burning to death every evil creature he could see. The feeling was wondrous, yet immensely powerful.