Red Angel

138

"When someone says, 'Thanks for your hard work,' you can reply, 'Don't just stand there. Get me a glass of water.' This acknowledges their concern for you."

"When someone asks, 'Why is progress so slow?' say, 'If you're so capable, do it yourself.' This affirms their competence at work."

"When someone gives you instructions, ask, 'Are you telling me how to do my job?' This expresses your approval of their behavior."

The Abyss Angel looked at the paper in his hands, then at the person opposite him. He genuinely had no idea what expression to make, so he simply spoke with his usual expressionless face. "This is the exact opposite of what I know about human etiquette."

"Oh, Your Highness, have you forgotten? We're Hunters."

"Only you are."

"Yes, yes, exactly. I'm a Hunter, and a Provoker at that, so greeting people this way is perfectly reasonable for me. Besides, language and culture are vast and profound. Look, isn't 'telling me how to do my job' an affirmation of someone else's knowledge? And 'if you're so capable, do it yourself'-if my progress is too slow, naturally someone more capable should take over. And compared to verbal comfort, a glass of water lets people feel the warmth of human connection much better..."

Adela spun her nonsense with all her might, her face the very picture of honesty and reliability. She pushed the booklet full of successful examples of Hunter-style socializing farther into the Abyss Angel's hands, discreetly smoothing down a peeling corner of the sticker reading A Guide to Friendly Communication on its cover so that the real title underneath, How to Be a Good Hunter, wouldn't show.

"I saw you greet Mr. Gustav the other day, too. That 'Good morning, useful human' simply blew me away. If you'd chosen to become a Hunter, I'm sure you'd have reached your current heights just the same!"

"..."

"And our Sauron Family is the royal family. Naturally, royalty sets an example for all of Intis, so our family's social style is correct throughout the entire country. Don't worry. Nothing will go wrong."

"..."

"Have you finished reading? If you have, let's hurry and try it on the first person you see when you step outside! I believe in you!"

"Are you telling me how to do my job?"

"You're learning so fast."

139

Medici leisurely swung his crossed leg, his eye fixed on the doorway. Although that eye had been crushed, it had only been there to intimidate people anyway. He felt quite pleased with himself. In just a few months, this godforsaken basement had already received its second wave of visitors. He hadn't managed to keep that Seer brat last time, but surely this sensible Devil knew the wonders of a Card of Blasphemy and could be of some use?

Still, what intrigued him most was the Inverted Cross the other party had drawn on the door. What was that supposed to imply? Could it really be...

Just as the great Red Angel was deep in thought, Sauron suddenly reminded him, "The Devil's already reached the doorway."

Medici was unperturbed. "Where else would he be?"

"Where's your brain, Medici?! I mean he's reached the doorway he opened himself!"

"That's all? You're the one without a brain." Medici remained unconcerned, switched which leg lay on top, and leaned against the other side of his chair. "He must want something here. It's just a little game of playing hard to get."

Seeing how certain Medici was, Sauron repeatedly wavered over whether to speak, then finally fell silent, half convinced. Another thirty seconds passed before Einhorn, on the right, spoke up. "He's gone back to the outer basement."

"...He's just playing hard to get, driving up the price. He even drew my Lord's symbol on the door. He definitely came here hoping to get something out of it." Medici's expression didn't change, but his fingers began tapping the armrest. "Either he's on a mission or he has his own objectives. I don't believe he really won't turn back."

"He's starting up the stairs."

"..." Still calm and composed in the face of danger, the Red Angel gave an order. "He's about to leave. One of you, hurry up and signal him."

"Are you insane?! Weren't you the one who provoked him into leaving in the first place?!"

"I don't want to embarrass myself on the Red Angel's behalf."

"Fine, then I'll start reciting the Lord's honorific name right now! Guess whether that Devil will help me or you when that happens!"

"Stop him!"

Whether they meant stopping Medici or stopping the Devil was unclear. In any case, just as the Red Angel evil spirit began fighting himself, a little venomous snake, acting on someone's orders, finally struggled to catch up with Edward. It opened its mouth and bit down, sinking its fangs into his trouser cuff and dangling there.

Edward stopped climbing the stairs and expressionlessly picked the little snake up by its tail. He looked at the two rice-grain-sized holes newly added to his trouser cuff and decided to give the True Creator a detailed account when he returned. Hanging upside down, the little venomous snake raised its triangular head and hissed twice toward the Red Evil Spirit, flicking its tongue. Edward dropped it onto the floor, and it found a gap to crawl into, vanishing who knew where.

He opened his pocket watch, checked the time, and retraced his steps.

140

The first round of internal combat ended. The two Conquerors had controlled Medici's throat and mouth, keeping him from uttering any honorific name he shouldn't, but they couldn't stop the ensuing conversation. As though nothing had happened, Medici withdrew all the blood he'd used to enhance the atmosphere, looking much more normal than he had at first.

Hearing the footsteps stop outside the door, he asked through it, "Which piece of...who sent you?"

Edward answered flatly, "Money."

Medici was a little puzzled, but that wasn't important. He continued, "What's your relationship with the Lord? You're not actually Farbauti, are you?"

Edward was idly counting the decorative patterns carved into the door. "Farbauti is trash. Your Lord sent me. More questions cost extra."

The Red Angel glanced at the Beyonder Characteristics in the corner and held the Red Priest Card in his hand, continuing confidently, "Why did the Lord send you to find me? Does the Aurora Order not even have a single Angel anymore?"

That is indeed the case. The Angel of Fate was beaten back into rebirth for resisting my corruption, and the Angel of the Holy Word is looking for him...Although I found you today, I have absolutely no need to tell the True Creator where you are.

There are remnants of a seal left by at least one Sequence 1 here. An ordinary Angel wouldn't be confident of getting you out without a sound, unless you have some other method. But that would diminish my value, so even if you told me, I wouldn't help you. Even if I told the True Creator, he couldn't find a Sequence 1 right now to break this place open unnoticed. It takes at least four months from pregnancy to birth, and a fair amount of time to grow up afterward. At least until Ouroboros regains his power, I'm the only one your Lord can rely on to find you.

Edward spaced out for a few seconds before answering, "Oh, sure, sure."

"I can tell you some good news. What will you trade for it?"

Medici gave a wicked smile and produced the Red Priest Card he had prepared, waving it a few times between his fingers. "You should know what this is."

"It's worth far more than information on the Aurora Order's current situation. You should now be considering how to pay the difference back to..."

"I don't want it," the Devil said. "Give me money."

"...me. Not much, just...what?" Medici's words came to an abrupt halt. The mouths on both cheeks began stifling laughter. The Red Angel could hardly believe it. Had he been dead so long that this one twenty-second of the Blasphemy Slate, containing all the potion formulas and necessary rituals, had become worthless junk no one wanted? Fortunately, he quickly glanced at the jumbled corpses by the corner. Mid- and low-sequence Beyonder Characteristics of the Hunter and Lawyer Pathways were still quite valuable. He had no use for them himself, so he could give them away without any heartache.

Medici thus swept his hand grandly. "Then everything here except the Card of Blasphemy is yours. Can you talk now?"

"Yes."

The Red Evil Spirit began to suspect that Devils had started changing their personalities. Had they evolved from their former breed, with their frenzied drive to burn, kill, and plunder everywhere-comparable to Hunters-and their dazzling eloquence in tempting people into depravity, into this variety that wouldn't speak without money and only said two words when they did? Was the hunting of Devils still so widespread outside that only taciturn, practical Devils could survive?

"The True Creator's descent succeeded."

The moment the Devil opened his mouth, he dropped a nuclear bomb on him, shocking Medici so badly he almost lost his grip on the Card of Blasphemy. "He's managing affairs at the Aurora Order right now."

The Lord had descended!

And succeeded!

Since his descent had succeeded, did that mean the Lord had already returned like lightning, the sky and sea trembling together, and all seven gods had bowed before his radiance...? Medici's thoughts descended into chaos. He danced in wild delight until his mind grew hazy, paying no attention even to Sauron and Einhorn's muttering as they braced themselves for disaster.

The more he thought, the happier he became. The scenes in his imagination raced from the joint rule of the Solomon Empire straight into a historical reverse gear at 120 kilometers an hour, hurtling back to the Second Epoch, when the Ancient Sun God had punched Dragons and kicked Giants. Medici imagined the Lord's grand plan to lie low for a thousand years, then crush the seven gods in one stroke and stand upon the earth again. He thought up grand strategies the True Creator hadn't even begun to consider, and immediately felt that no one understood the Lord better than he did. The corners of his mouth began stretching toward the back of his head, gradually squeezing the living space of the other two Conquerors and drawing curses from his two housemates.

"But your Lord is only Sequence 6 right now," Edward added dryly. "The Aurora Order still has to buy baby supplies regularly."

Medici's beautiful dream was instantly blown apart. Neither Conqueror could hold it in, and the communal lounge within the Red Evil Spirit's mental space immediately filled with merriment. Medici ground his teeth in hatred. To think Devils had degenerated from beguiling lies to unwelcome truths. Once he got out of prison, he would have a proper word with the Lord and have this tactless fellow kicked out.

141

"Anything else? I'm leaving."

"No, nothing. Get lost already."

Seeing that the Devil couldn't be bothered with him either, Medici hurried to see his guest off after obtaining the information he needed. The basement was about to fall quiet again, soon to be swallowed once more by deathly silence and a maddening void. But Medici felt no anger. Instead, he now had something to look forward to.

"By the way." He suddenly remembered something.

Edward, who had just reached the doorway, sensed something and slowed his steps. Sure enough, a voice came from behind the heavy door at his back.

"Now that I think about it, there's something familiar about you."

"Every last one of you Devils is insane. Although you seem normal, the fact that you dare covet Farbauti's position means you must be mentally ill too. And I've met a few Devils of note."

"No sense of fear, madness that seems rational. Pursuing fear, creating even greater fear-let me guess. Are you 'Fear'?"

Creatures other than Devils couldn't speak the Abyss's Language of Foulness. This name was the Ancient Hermes pronunciation of "fear."

When members of other races consumed the Abyss Pathway's Sequence 6 potion and became Devils, they underwent different changes according to their own traits, whereas born Devils were often the living embodiment of a particular, quite pure form of malice. As far as conclusions went, Medici's guess wasn't exactly wrong. Edward thought, Because I devoured Fear whole and reproduced him with my own authority, I skipped the transformation stage, obtained his characteristics, and successfully developed abilities of my own.

For thousands of years, I've also been consciously or unconsciously shaping my image to resemble his, using it to explain this car crash of a humanity I have. It wasn't until Roselle arrived that I tried changing my persona, but even then, I only let survivors of the old days discover my "true identity."

If Medici weren't the True Creator's subordinate, passing myself off as Fear would be the best choice.

"I'm not him," Edward answered. "I inherited him."

"Oh, Farbauti can just barely count as being of the Lord's generation, so that born Mythical Creature would be of mine. Since you're not him, you count as his descendant, which makes you my grandchild's generation. Come on, call me..."

Once the intelligence was discussed, it was time for idle chatter. Medici habitually let his mouth become an independent body part, but before he finished speaking, his spiritual intuition suddenly sounded an alarm. What's going on? Could he really replace Farbauti someday and come back to beat me to pieces? Does he hold grudges that badly? He forcibly dragged out his last word and swallowed the bizarre remark on the tip of his tongue. "Me-hmm, since you've been working so diligently for the Lord, I won't torment you, little Devil. Off you go."

Edward glanced sideways, exchanging a stare with Medici through the door. Even the stones at his feet could feel the awkwardness in the air.

He shut the door and left, leaving behind a resounding "Lunatic."

TBC

"What are you doing here? We Sequence One Red Evil Spirits don't take in Sequence 2 Devils. You're not welcome~" (Medici danced flamboyantly.) "Listen up, Devil. We're about to have a super~cool~ Hunter free-for-all right here. Guess who doesn't get to join in?" (Medici danced flamboyantly. All three tangled in a brawl. Medici insisted on continuing his flamboyant dance.) "You! So hurry up and get the Lord to save me!" (They beat each other up.) "Will you just shut up already?!" (The other two roared.)