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marshmallowprotection · 1 year

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I’ve Got This Ringing In My Ears

Pairing: Mammon/[SE] Saeran Choi Crossover: Shall We Date? Obey Me / Mystic Messenger. Description: Whatever God had against him was beyond Saeran's understanding, and yet, he had no choice but to play the game in front of him. If only these demons knew how to play fair. Another challenge is on the horizon, and not even Mammon can prepare him for that. Word Count: 23,133

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Chapter 1

It took a week before Saeran felt even remotely like himself again. That was saying something since he wasn’t even sure who he was when he looked in the mirror most days. The pain from his first pact was undeniably worse than anything he’d ever experienced in his life. It wasn’t the physical strain that hurt him. It was the lingering emotional strain buried deep within his soul. Who knew that giving away the crux of your body to a demon in the name of power could knock you down for a while?

He knew what it felt like to have elixir destroy his stomach, cigarettes burning his flesh, and even the phantom pain from injuries he sustained as a child that returned to haunt him. He knew what it felt like to be emotionally manipulated by somebody he trusted more than anything else in that world. It was a stretch of the imagination to say he knew pain and punishment like the back of his hand, but he didn’t know what it felt like to be marked by sin.

Nothing could compare to the physical toll that took control of his body after his pact with Mammon.

Sure, he thought he knew what it would feel like to go through that—

But, it turned out that nothing he knew could’ve prepared him for what it felt like to be marked by a demon. There was no amount of preparation that could have warned him of what was on the horizon once it happened. Certainly, it would’ve made sense for them to have given him a guidebook to look through on what it would feel like since there appeared to be major adverse effects on humans, but they hadn't done anything of the sort. Nothing could have prepared him.

What was more complicated was the fact that nobody thought to prepare him.

You would think they would consider every option and outcome that a human could find themselves involved in within this realm. But no, they hadn't considered that a human would even go this far. Did they even think the human was going to live? If the goal was to unite the realms, they should’ve known that a human would be involved much more deeply than appearing in and out of their R.A.D. classes.

If Saeran had it his way, he would’ve just gone back and forth, but the Avatars of Sin didn’t give him a say in what came next.

He wasn't going to go out of his way to cause trouble for anybody, much less himself, but that changed when they decided to throw him into the ring. It was funny because if they wanted nothing to do with him, they would have avoided him like the plague. Frankly, it would’ve made it a lot easier on him if that was their decision. Demons were inherently selfish, though, and that meant anything they wanted would be put on his plate no matter how much he tried to avoid it.

It shouldn't have been a surprise to him but it wasn't like he was raised in the church. He might have spent his time in the cathedral with people watching over him so his mother couldn't beat him bloody and blue, but he was never too involved with the services. He didn't like to be in enclosed spaces so he spent most of his time outside if possible. If he heard anything inside the church, he didn't take it to heart. Most of it was confusing and confounding information that didn't make sense to him since he didn't have the know-how to understand it.

Of course, everything he thought he knew about the world had been thrown away weeks ago. It didn't matter what he believed or what he didn't, he was thrown into this situation without a second thought. The only choice he had in this situation was to find the best way to survive in the Devildom. His initial thought had been to lay low and get by through the year without having to engage with anyone unless it was required for the sake of the program.

It was stupid to think he would be able to wiggle his way out of this mess. As soon as he thought he’d make it through the night, they threw him right into the thick of it and there was no way out. He had earned a mark on his body that would never go away. Sure, he hadn’t lost his soul for it, but he couldn’t say he wanted anything to do with it now that he had it. It was the same feeling he had about the tattoo he got when he was in Mint Eye. It was there and he couldn't do anything about it, but as long as it was out of sight and out of mind, he didn't have to think about it.

The difference in this situation was that he could feel the pact mark. Sure, it didn't make sense when he said it to himself, but he could feel it. Something was buzzing in his body that he couldn’t feel to the touch, but he could feel it inside of him. It was like a pulse. The faintest thumping against his soul was like the ticking of an infernal clock. He wanted nothing to do with it but there was no way to take away the decision that had already been made.

There was no way to remove his tattoo or pact mark. It was a part of him now. Much to his chagrin, the only option left for him was to grit his teeth and bear with it.

Why would he want to order around a demon to get whatever he wanted? If it’d been a few years prior, he might’ve used this pact to destroy his twin and the RFA. It would have been everything he needed to get his revenge. He never would’ve thought twice the moment the offer was given. If the key to success had been weighed against his soul, his soul would’ve been damned from that point and his bloodlust would have been quenched.

Would he have felt satisfied with his choices after the fact? Hard to say. He spent years fighting to get what he wanted and even if he now understood that it wouldn't have satisfied him the way he wanted, he couldn't imagine what it would’ve done to his mind if he got to go all the way through with what he wanted. Would he have gone on to destroy everything else in the world? Would he crumple under the weight of a future that had nothing for him?

If the only purpose he thought he had in life was finally given to him, what would he have done after the fact? A part of him wondered what it would have felt like and another part of him knew that he shouldn't think about that for a moment. If he allowed himself to get too caught up in the past, that would only encourage the flashbacks to flood to the surface. He spent too long trying to stop those nightmares and flashbacks to be swept under the current again.

It was bad enough that he had no control over his dreams.

Saeran didn't want to willingly think about any of these feelings. It was better when they were out of sight and out of mind. He didn't want to go through those thoughts and he doubted anybody around him wanted to deal with the screaming that came alongside it. No big amount of sympathy or kindness would last forever if they were subjected to his misery. Compassion only went so far and most of it had run out for him.

He doubted Rika would’ve even needed to ask him to do it. He would’ve gone through with it without thinking twice about giving away his soul. His revenge clouded his mind for years alongside the drugs he had been forced to take… Back then, he would have given anything to have what he wanted and that included his soul. Nothing could have meant more to him than the satisfaction of knowing that every person who ever hurt him was suffering.

That was the kind of person he was, and in many ways, he still felt that way even if he didn't act on those impulses.

But, now?

He didn’t have the time nor the energy to give a damn about his lust for their destruction he held once before. In the end, the animosity and the violence wouldn't have solved anything he felt and now it just felt like he wasted all those years being a pawn and puppet for another person's desires. It was true, that was his life for a long time. He had to do anything and everything to make sure that her whims were on the path to completion.

She made him believe what she did until there was no clear line between their desires. What she wanted was what he wanted. For a long time, he believed that because there was nothing else for him to believe. The only thing he was allowed to feel was wrath. Anything that didn't fall in that category was snuffed out of him just like his hope. It pressured him to become a monster, and in many ways, he was still the same monster.

That was why Satan could feel the rage seeping off of him in waves.

They wanted to eat the sins out of him for dinner and then some. If they could feel his emotions, then they were enjoying the feast. His mind was an amalgamation of discomfort and trauma. There was no stone unturned when it came to the most depraved sins. He felt every emotion that God designated as nothing more than a deadly act of selfishness. No wonder he was a sitting duck in Hell. This was what fate had in store for him, and the trial run of Hell didn’t make him feel good about himself.

Not that he ever felt good about himself.

Saeran was tired.

There was no other way to describe the feelings he’d experienced from day one in the Devildom. This place was a minefield for his emotions and he had no way of knowing which step was going to send his body sky-high. It wouldn’t be the first time he felt the sting of fire against his skin, given how long he’d spent trying to recreate a bomb from a manual Rika claimed to have designed herself at the time. That very design was one his brother had created for her, and she simply made him recreate it in the chance she needed to get rid of “liabilities”.

Namely, him and or his brother if the moment arrived. The moments of trial and error had left his fingers scarred with the sparks that remained. He could see it every time he looked at his open palms, but it was no heavier than the blood he couldn’t wash away after a nightmare. It was the story of his miserable life. People would use and abuse him until there was nothing left to take.

Nobody considered him to be a person. If they had, they would have asked him what he wanted to do instead of telling him what he needed to do and when he needed to do it. He was a toy to most people, something that could be used when they wanted it and placed in a box when they didn't want to deal with it. He was nothing more than an inanimate object to people. It wasn't a surprise since he always lived his life that way.

But, Saeran was tired of being a puppet for other people. He didn't ask to be born and he certainly didn't ask to be used by other people for nefarious purposes. It didn't matter what he wanted, the world would push him into doing things for other people. It didn't matter if he agreed with them, there was nothing he could do but obey. Anything other than blind obedience left him in a state of disarray.

Even years out from the time he spent in a dissociative state had done nothing to stop that from happening to him.

He was tired of being the pawn in somebody else's game. It didn't matter how much he fought every day to have autonomy over his life, somebody else would take it away from him as soon as he thought he was safe. If it wasn't V, it was Rika, if it wasn’t Rika, it was V, if it wasn’t either of them, it would be his twin brother who got down on his hands and knees to miserably beg that Saeran not take his life in response to the blood on his hands and the despair in his mind.

If it wasn’t his brother, it was Diavolo, and his exchange program plot to unite realms that Saeran didn’t give a damn about.

Again and again and again and again and again and again and again.

It wasn't what Saeran wanted that mattered to anyone.

It was what they wanted when they wanted it.

With a nauseating curdle in the pit of his stomach, he rolled over onto his side. He didn't expect them to give him any niceties. That’s why he forced himself out of bed after a hard weekend and went to his classes. Nobody said a word to stop him from walking around like a zombie, but he doubted any of the demons wanted to say anything given the killer glint in his eyes. It wasn’t like he was a threat, though… they could’ve eviscerated him in a matter of seconds. His only assumption was that they were enjoying the emotions seeping out of him.

The Avatars of Sin were too caught up in themselves. They spent more time grilling Mammon for being an idiot than they did anything else. Saeran pitied the guy, though. It was obvious they decided long ago that Mammon was going to be their punching bag. Be it because of his personality or his sin, Saeran didn’t know, but his brothers made a mockery of him every step of the way.

It was like he was the court jester to their nobility. It was amusing when they needed a laugh, and then it was a game whenever he screwed up and they could torture him. They were going to get something out of him no matter what. Idiot or not, Saeran was still angry that no demon thought to warn him it would change his body forever to make a pact. This uncomfortable feeling wouldn't go away no matter how much he tossed and was a part of him forever.

It was nothing to them but it was everything to him.

There was nothing he could do to make the feeling go away, either. Like he had any magical ability to drown out the noise. This constant hum was a part of his background noise and he needed to get used to it. The only thing he found that made it even slightly tolerable was when he made a point of being close to Mammon. As long as they were in the same room, that uncomfortable feeling wouldn't be as bad as it was before. That realization was difficult for him given the fact he was such an introvert in the first place.

Nobody else was any the wiser to that fact. He’d spent the most time around his Guardian Demon because Mammon wanted to avoid Lucifer’s wrath now that Goldie was back in his pocket and the best way to do that was to show that he took his job seriously. Saeran doubted that it was a serious job for him. He was doing whatever he could to save his ass from the trouble of having to regenerate. It was easier just to let them think that was the reason why he wasn't very far from Mammon during the day.

Not that Saeran couldn’t relate to him.

Sometimes, you had to throw somebody under the bus if you wanted to save your own skin. He did it many times in Mint Eye just to avoid Rika’s wrath. He didn't think twice about who was going to be punished in his place. If they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, that was on them alone. It was a situation where only the fittest could survive paradise. He wasn't the strongest person in that place no matter how much he made himself believe it… better someone else than him.

Of course, that was probably another punishment on his part. He spent those years using other people to protect himself, regardless of whether it worked or not, and now he was forced to see what that felt like on the other side. It wasn't the best feeling but his heart was filled with too much apathy to care at that point. If people were going to rob him of his autonomy, so be it. It didn't matter how angry he was about it. It was going to keep happening. Nothing mattered.

He was a shiny toy to anyone who caught sight of him and they wanted to use him until the newness wore off.

Out of all of the demon brothers he’d interacted with, Mammon was the most tolerable even though Saeran was disgusted by the mark on his throat.

The idiot didn’t pry into his mind nor did he ask stupid questions to get inside his head as the others did. That was the only convenience that came out of having a pact with the Avatar of Greed. Saeran had no intention of using that pact… but the fact that it came with the fortunate convenience of an excuse to get away from everyone, he’d take it. There wasn't anything he could do about it to change the situation but it had an advantage.

Frankly, Saeran might have been using Mammon just as much as Mammon was using him to get out of trouble.

Mammon could use him as an excuse to get away from Lucifer and Saeran could use those moments when Mammon dragged him out of him to keep him from losing his composure. He couldn’t blow himself up on those demons. He knew once the lid came undone on his feelings, it would be over for him. He didn’t want them to know more about him than they already did. If he didn't want to know things about himself, he certainly didn't want anybody else to know them.

Of course, the situation might’ve been more tolerable if Mammon hadn’t decided to spend the night in his room. It happened, at least, twice in the past week. This room was supposed to be a sanctuary but… given the weight of the thumping in his chest, he might not have minded tonight. It was a price he was willing to pay but he wasn't about to go looking for it. He wasn't going to complain or say anything to draw attention to himself.

It was bad enough when he woke up in his bed and they were all fussing over him briefly before it turned into a Mammon blame game. They already thought of him as a weak human but this proved it in their eyes, he was sure. He didn't plan on getting pacts with them beyond the fluke with Mammon, but he was sure they had their eyes on him.

They were sizing him up for a reason. All of these thoughts would have been more tolerable had it not been for the fact that he was alone again.

Mammon wasn’t in his room tonight, no, the demon was somewhere else.

He had to be in the house since the pressure in his chest wasn’t as bad as when he demon snuck out to a casino, but it was far enough that Saeran felt like he would lose his mind to the slow hum. Was this a problem only for him since he didn’t have any magical abilities like the other human, Solomon? There was no way for him to gauge one way or the other since there wasn’t an elective offered to humans to better understand the “benefit” of a pact.

Regardless of the answer, he definitely wasn't happy with the way it made him feel.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and closed his eyes. If Saeran was lucky, exhaustion would set in and he wouldn’t need to use his brain. He wasn't sure how long he’d laid there with his body and mind out of sync, but what he did know was at some point, he heard the sound of someone wailing like a banshee. At first, he thought it was just another sound thanks to the haunted mansion they stuck him in, but the longer it continued, the more he felt like it was pointed.

It was an uncomfortable wailing that grew louder and louder by the minute. At some point, he realized that it couldn't be the sounds of the house settling or the faintest voices of humans that had died in this place. No, it had to be something else since it didn’t sound like the demons of the house wanted to kill whatever it was for interrupting their sleep. It made his skin crawl the longer the voice demanded some attention. He wasn’t about to give whatever it was what it wanted by reacting, though.

It was the same way he dealt with a psychotic episode. He ignored them and waited for the memory or image to pass. However, what caught his attention this time was the shift in the wind. A breeze floated against his skin and with it came a—

“ Help me, Saeran …”

Now, that made Saeran shiver in response. He sucked in a breath and kept his eyes closed. He knew that if he opened his eyes, the vision he might see in front of him would be the very thing he'd been trying to avoid for years. He wasn't going to give power to that specter no matter what happened to him.

No , he thought. I won’t let this house play tricks on me. I'm not going to fall for this trap and I'm not going to let him see me again. He's not really there. He couldn't be there. This is just my mind playing tricks on me because of the stress. He isn't there. I refuse to open my eyes and start this all over again. He can scream as much as he wants but I'm not going to fall for it.

Chapter 2

It was never easy to drag himself out of bed after a night like the one Saeran had.

Thrashing, tossing, turning… but, what more was his existence than one of discomfort? He didn’t know what it felt like to not look over his shoulder for more than a couple of minutes. Even after he escaped the cult and left behind the nights of endless blue screens that flickered off and on for hours and hours, his body never felt safe. He was always on guard, waiting for the walls to collapse and for the next problem to grab him.

Even if Saeyoung wanted to create a haven for him, the bunker never felt like one. It wound up feeling like another prison… even if he had the key to the door, there was no way for him to go out and be like any other man. That's because he wasn't like any other person. He and his brother would never be able to be anything more than they already were.

They were bastards who had to live in hiding because if their father even got a whiff of their existence, he would make sure they were eradicated and nothing was left. With the agency taken down, sure, the likelihood of their father being able to locate them had lessened, but it hadn't dropped to zero. He was the Prime Minister of South Korea, after all. He had more power in the palm of his hand than his sons would ever have.

He could get rid of anything or anyone he wanted, and nobody would be the wiser of it given that smile on his face.

People would continue to believe he was a friendly man who had no ill intentions. It was a mask he covered for himself for a reason. He knew the best way to have power was to put up false pretenses and let the flock of sheep do the rest. Most people didn't want to think hard about the morality of those in charge of them. They wanted to take it at face value and let it be. What did they say? Ah, yes, ignorance is bliss, right?

Saeran and Saeyoung would never truly be free until Saejoong was dead. Unfortunately for them, it didn't seem as though that was going to be happening anytime soon. So, it didn't matter if he had the keys to escape what felt like another prison, the world itself was his prison. Funny enough, the world thought it would be even funnier to throw him in another prison, this time, a living Hell that he had no say in.

At least, in the bunker, he could tell his brother what ice cream he wanted to have, but this place?

He could barely stomach the food that was theoretically safe for humans. Beggars can’t be choosers, he reminded himself. Still, it wasn’t like he had much of a say in anything. If they did give him a say, there was plenty to say and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to stop if someone gave him the floor to speak his mind. It was the little things like that that put him in his place. It didn't take much for this round to snuff out his independence like it was candlelight.

Still, he didn’t have much say when he woke up this morning. It was his turn to make breakfast for everyone. They took turns in this household, for whatever reason, probably something to do with Lucifer’s pride and determination to make his younger brothers self-sufficient. The Avatars of Sin could easily be taken care of by a servant or two like Lord Diavolo was with Barbatos and a staff of endless demons.

But, they weren’t.

It was the only thing humble about them, frankly. Of course, he didn't appreciate being added to the rotation since it forced him to wake up much earlier than he wished to. At the very least, it gave him a chance to have something that was even remotely normal for his human palette. It was the process of making more plates than he had before that irritated him. He was used to making enough for just his needs and nothing more than that. Now, he had to make sure there were enough for an army.

It was that way because Beelzebub needed enough to feed an army and it still wouldn’t be enough to keep his urges at bay. That got on his nerves. It wasn't like the big lug could help it given his sin was a compulsion at this point but, he could at least take care of himself. It would have made it easier for his brothers (and Saeran!) if he could help himself. But, he couldn’t take care of himself nor could he stop his urges. In the same way, none of them could control themselves from indulging in sin.

With a disdainful sigh, Saeran got ready for his day and left his room after a few minutes of debating the risks of not following the rules. Of course, there was no part of him that could willingly choose to disobey the rules after the trauma he experienced in Mint Eye. It was always the threat of what could happen and the lack of answers about what that punishment could be.

The best way to keep people in line was to make sure that they were always afraid of what could happen, never allowing them to know the depth of what they could experience if they disobeyed.

It wasn't like anybody was going to flay him alive, but he also didn't want to find out what dark corner they'd stick him in if he didn't listen. As much as he hated it, he had to play the game. In the same way, he had no choice but to accept the shimmering gold that radiated against his neck. He had to go along with it. It was better to go along with it than it was to fight against it.

The feeling of chains against his ankles reminded him of that.

Saeran stood at the door to his room. His eyes turned to look down the hall towards the kitchen since it wasn’t that far, it was only around the corner, but he hesitated because he could hear it. It was a ringing in his ears and none of it was coming from his fingers. It was a sound that had no owner he could locate within the physical realm, and that was the one thing he couldn’t stomach.

There it was again. It was still there. The wailing he’d heard during those late hours was still there… though, now, it had damped to a whisper instead of a howl. It was just loud enough that he could distinguish the noise. The familiar and ungodly noise made it impossible to get any restful sleep. It wasn't like he expected to have any restful sleep in a place like this, but even five minutes would have been better than what he was getting.

What was the sound coming from? Who was making that racket? Was it real? Was he losing his mind to the madness of these four walls? Was the curse of the Devildom eating away at his thoughts? Was it his mind trying to dive back into the throes of misery and confusion? What was it he was experiencing and how could he make it stop?

He gritted his teeth. How long could he listen to those noises and ignore them? How long could he take the whispers nagging at his heels as they needed him to look? If it was the monster he thought it was, Saeran wanted nothing to do with it… even if it wanted everything to do with him, he wanted to leave those demons in the past with the rest of his blood-stained hands until he died and returned to this waking hell. If that voice was the one he thought it was, he wanted the voice to wait.

They could drag him away… he could drag Saeran away when he was done looking at the blue sky for the last time.

His eyes lingered on the staircase for the longest time before he shook the thought from his head. It was already getting late in the morning and he needed to get started. The noise was coming from the upper level of the building, that much he knew for sure. But, he couldn’t say how much of that noise was the sound of his fears making themselves known because he was hardly stable, or if it was the house making those noises that made him uncomfortable in the first place.

What if it was?

What if it wasn't?

No, he reminded himself. Don’t feed into it and don’t give it power over you. Even if he’s haunting me, as long as I don’t give him what he wants, the worst he can do is make it impossible to sleep. He can try what he wants, but I’m not going to fall for it. If he’s in Hell, he’s here because he did it to himself, not because I—

“Oi, Saeran. Ya’ can’t be standin’ around like that. If Beel catches ya’ like that in the morning, he might just gobble ya’ up! Ain’t it your turn to take care of breakfast, anyway? C’mon, let the Great Mammon give ya’ a hand.”

The breath Saeran hadn’t even realized he was holding in came out the second he heard Mammon’s voice in his ears. He shook the look from his face he was sure he had and looked at the second-born. With a voice that couldn’t mask all his thoughts, he said, “I don’t believe that. You’ll want Grimm as compensation.”

“Can’t the Great Mammon do a good deed?” The demon caught up to him, standing over Saeran with an annoyed look on his face. It wasn’t different than an annoyance, though. Saeran knew that whatever Mammon wanted was something in return for his actions. If Saeran wasn’t going to order him around and make blatant demands, Mammon decided the best thing to do was to make a system that went the normal way of bartering.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of a demon doing a good deed,” Saeran said, dryly.

“Y’know, havin’ a pact with the Avatar of Greed means you should count your blessings. I could make ya’ as lucky as they come if I wanted to do that!” Mammon argued. His voice echoed downstairs as they took the corner to enter the kitchen. “I’d call that a good deed!”

“I’d call it a curse.”

—

It was late in the evening, after dinner, when Saeran heard the sound again. This time, he waited until the brothers were neatly sorted into their bedrooms before he ventured up the stairs to see if he could figure out where the noise was coming from. He wasn't sure if he wanted to find the exact source, but if there was a chance it was coming from a room in the House of Lamentation that was occupied, that would give him an explanation to make do with for now. If one of the brothers was trying to fuck him over, he wanted to know sooner rather than later.

If he had some semblance of an answer, it would have made it easier for him to sleep at night. It was bad enough the nightmares always lingered just underneath the surface of his consciousness, but as long as he had some kind of control over it, he could make do. He could always make do if he had a fraction of an answer. He just needed to know for sure if what he feared was a fact. If it wasn't, the weight that held him down wouldn't have felt so bad.

He needed something… just something to be sure it wasn’t what he feared it to be.

Saeran stalked past the doorways that lead to different rooms that belonged to the demons. Yet, the sound he heard beckoned him to walk past Leviathan’s room, Satan’s Room, Beelzebub’s room, and then the long hallway to Lucifer’s room. The sound wasn’t in their rooms… no, it urged him to keep walking further… further… until he stood in front of a long staircase he hadn’t noticed before when he’d visited this part of the house with Mammon.

It was a dark staircase with winding steps that seemed to make the house seem impossibly taller than it appeared to be on the outside. Magic , he reminded himself. The voice was audible this time, nearly in his ears as it said, “Help… help me… over here!”

No… no… no…!

“I’m over here…”

It can’t be him!

“Sae… ran…”

No.

No…

Saeran stepped back, his eyes wide with recognition as it nearly sent him into a frenzy, his legs ready to carry him back down the stairs to his room when he felt a chest against his chest. His breath hitched in his throat, and he looked up to see the disdainful face of Lucifer staring down at him. It seemed like he wasn’t happy that Saeran was standing there, and Saeran wasn’t happy to see him there, either. He had no wish for these demons to see him afraid.

But, it was true, Saeran was afraid and his skin felt like it was being clawed at from the inside out from the sound of a single voice. The ringing in his ears was loud but not loud enough that he couldn’t hear the sound of Lucifer’s voice, “Saeran. Stop. You’ll go no further beyond this point. That’s not a place for humans to wander. It’s dangerous. Go back to your room.”

Against his better judgment for self-preservation, Saeran found his voice asking, “Why?”

“I just told you why. That isn’t a place for humans, nor is it any of your concern. This is the Devildom, human There are rules that must be followed here… and my word is the law for you as long as you’re in this household. Your presence in this household is under my domain. You can’t defy my orders. So, go on, return to your room.”

Saeran saw no reason to argue with Lucifer… not when his fight or flight was grilling him like a steak on an open fire. He simply nodded, more meekly than he wanted, brushing past Lucifer to return to what was considered his room in this waking nightmare. The voice stopped when Lucifer appeared, but that did nothing to quell his nerves. Part of him wanted to glance over his shoulder back at where the sound had come from in the first place… but, the fear of seeing the specter lingering behind Lucifer’s was too much to stomach.

What if he was there?

It meant Lucifer wasn’t the one playing tricks on him and that it was possible that what lurked beyond those stairs was the manifestation of Saeran’s worst nightmare. He didn't know why or how but Jihyun Kim was somewhere up the staircase and Saeran wasn’t sure he wanted to know more.

Chapter 3

“You tried goin’ up to the attic, huh?”

Saeran’s jaw was still clenched tight. He had to remember to catch his breath when he shut his door behind him, only to lose it again when he realized Mammon was sitting on the floor next to his bed with his D.D.D. in hand. There was something sharp in those blue eyes that Saeran couldn’t deny, it was a reminder that Mammon wasn’t as stupid as his brothers would’ve liked to have claimed.

He’d seen through Saeran and his plan.

The attic held something that Lucifer didn’t want him to see. There was no way that Lucifer could have locked up Jihyun in the attic because the man was dead. Not only was the man dead, but there also wasn’t a chance in Hell that Lucifer could’ve known that he knew Saeran. There was no way to find that out. Saeran didn’t exist on paper, and yet… they’d summoned him to the Devildom with no chance of knowing that he existed as a human.

How?

How did they find him?

Why did they pick him?

What led them to choose him and how was his name added to a pool of applicants?

The more Saeran thought about it, the less it made sense. He’d been trying to ignore most of those thoughts for the better part of a couple of weeks but now he couldn’t ignore them. The only answer that was possible was that they did research into his background with magic and figured out that he could be kept in line if they used a dead soul as a contingency plan.

If he didn’t obey, they’d use the soul of his victim to haunt him into submission. They were already prepared to use him to make sure they got what they wanted, so-called harmony between all of the rounds, so why wouldn't they go further to make sure it happened? Why not use everything they had against him to make sure it happened? Did they even want to create harmony between the rounds or was this a front for something nefarious?

It’s something he would’ve expected from his former Savior, so, it couldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility to assume the demons could do the same. Worse even, they could’ve not only grabbed a dead soul, but they could also’ve trapped Rika in the attic alongside Jihyun’s soul if they wanted to do so. Sure, maybe that was his paranoia speaking, and yeah, maybe it was a thought that made no sense without claims to back it up, but Saeran couldn’t trust anyone.

His life was filled with impossible scenarios, so it wasn't a stretch of the imagination to say anything was possible.

If he was an impossibility, then he could find more.

He swallowed, the thoughts feeling all too consuming for him to dodge them. Yet, he was relieved he didn’t have to feel the separation from Mammon’s proximity on top of it. The thumping he normally felt when the demon wasn’t within his reach was silent now; But, the blood pumping in his skull was the only thing he could focus on.

His lungs were hot but he wasn’t about to break down and cry his eyes out in front of a demon. This was the only time his body knew how to cry.

When he was on the cusp of a panic attack and every emotion he tried to suffocate came to the surface like he’d been drowning for years and his lungs needed to breathe.

Mammon chose the best time to be aware of the world around him. His sharp gaze watched him for a moment since he hadn’t said a word or barked at him for being in the room. “What? Did Lucifer rattle your bones that bad when ya’ got caught?”

“No,” Saeran forced the words out. He had no choice but to pretend his stomach wasn’t in his throat until Mammon decided to pass out like he did whenever he decided he was going to be the lost puppy his brothers told him he was. What was a good enough excuse to keep Mammon at bay? “My body still isn’t used to the pact. Every time I feel the magic course through my veins, it feels like someone pushed me off the roof.”

The second-born wasn’t going to leave if Saeran told him to. But, frankly, as childish as it sounded… he didn’t want Mammon to leave just yet. If it could keep the voice of the damned at bay, he would force himself to stomach being close to someone when he was trying to hold back a panic attack. Mammon wouldn’t be able to read that deep into it. The demon had been hovering more since the pact left him knocked out for a full twenty-four hours, anyway.

Don’t chase after me for once in your existence, Saeran thought.

“Well, ain’t often a human gets a pact with a demon as powerful as me,” Mammon nodded. He said nothing when Saeran pushed past him and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “It normally ain’t bad for the witches who’ve been training with magic for years but I reckon since y’ain’t got no skill to magic like them, it’d be harder on you.”

“I guess,” Saeran said.

It was quiet for a moment as Mammon seemed to be thinking something over. It wasn’t long before he spoke up again, his eyes peering over the brim of his sunglasses to watch for Saeran’s reaction. “Y’know, this is the first time I’ve seen ya’ interested in anything since ya’ got here. It’s been nothing but a death wish since the first day. I don’t know what you think you’re going to find, but the fact that Lucifer told you off means he doesn’t want ya’ to find out what he’s hiding for a reason.”

As if that wasn’t obvious, Saeran thought. There was a reason why he was hiding something in the attic and there was no telling why he thought it was such a good idea in the first place. But, Saeran knew the threat was going to haunt him no matter what he did. He didn't want to come face to face with a ghost of the past… but, at the same time, he didn’t want Lucifer to have anything he could hold over him like that.

He didn't want to be a pawn.

It wasn't fair that he was put on this Earth to be used by other people. He didn't ask for this and he was tired of people forcing it on him. There was so much control over his life but the least he could do was fight back to get some semblance of it. Sure, it was a death wish to fight people that were stronger than him in ways he could never be, but it wasn't the first time he fought dirty like a caged animal.

He spent too much of his life being a pawn in somebody else's game. When was he going to be the one holding the chess piece? When was he going to be the one playing the game for once in his life?

When was he going to be in charge of his fate? Steadily, his fear was turning into familiar anger, and that anger was turning into a plan of retribution. He was too tired to fight back most of the time, but if it was the way he thought it was, he couldn't sit by and let it happen.

If there was anything he could do to reduce his chances of that happening, he would do it. Even if his teeth were chattering and his fingers were trembling. He didn't want anyone to hold his fears over his head like it was a game. It wasn't a game and he wasn't going to play it. He had to get to the bottom of it before it destroyed him. It was only a matter of time before that ticking drove him mad. It happened in Mint Eye, and it could happen again.

Mammon continued, “Whenever he does stuff like that, it means he’s hiding something he thinks only he can know about. I’ve known him since the day I was created by the old man, and he’s been like that since day one. If he wants ya’ to know something then you’d already know before it could even become a question.”

“Well, you didn’t hear it from The Great Mammon, but there might just be a way for ya’ to get away with that. Not that you’ll be getting anything out of me on this quest. The second Lucifer finds out I did anything he doesn’t want me to, it’ll be my guts hanging like a centerpiece in the main hall. Doubt ya’ wanna see that.”

Saeran looked at him. He pursed his lips, “I didn’t ask for any help. I thought we went over this. You’re in search of something you can use in return and I’m not about to support your gambling habits with the money Lord Diavolo gives me to make do with while I’m stuck here in the Devildom. I thought we settled this conversation earlier today.”

“Wow, wow, wow. So, The Great Mammon isn’t even worth asking? Don’t you know what I’m capable of? I’m the Avatar of Greed! I’m the second strongest demon underneath Lucifer. Just ‘cause I don’t go n’ broadcast it to the universe doesn’t mean I’m not strong, y’know!” Mammon said. He ignored those comments about his gambling habits, which was to be expected. “You should at least dignify me with a request before ya’ go tellin’ me no!”

“I said I didn’t ask you for help. None of that statement has anything to do with what power you do or don’t have, idiot. Besides, you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t want to get into trouble with Lucifer if you can help it. Why bother asking you if I know you’ll want something in return or you just asked to hear yourself talk?!” Saeran retorted.

His words came out much crueler than he wanted but it was to be expected. Whenever he was worked up into a corner, the only thing he could think of would be to be as angry and crass as possible to make people leave him alone. He didn't want people to get close for a reason and it was bad enough he had to deal with this. Every day, it felt like they were getting closer and closer to realizing what was wrong with him. It wouldn't be long before they figured it out at this rate.

Mammon inhaled, sharply.

“Listen here, Saeran,” he said. He shifted so that he could sit next to Saeran on the bed, his sunglasses now removed from his face as they gazed at each other, the tension sharp enough to cut with a knife. “I know ya’ don’t want to be here, and I figure all ya’ wanna do is die to get it over with. But, I’m tryin’ to do ya’ a favor since I ain’t seen you look this messed up since ya’ got here. Whatever ya’ wanna find out there, I’ll do you a solid to make sure it happens. Call it a favor since I know ya’ can’t stand this pact on your body.”

Saeran stared at him for a long moment. Well, it wasn't the first time he had miscalculated what the demon was thinking. Mammon understood him more than he wanted him to. It would’ve been so much easier to die. That was his thought whenever things got tough. It would have been easier to be killed than it would’ve been to face a challenge. He needed to know for sure what was in that attic for some peace of mind.

If he was going to be stuck between the ghost of the past or the ghost of the future, he would choose the future before he would ever choose the past.

“Fine,” Saeran said. He ripped his eyes away from Mammon’s piercing gaze. “I’ll let you help me out this time if it’s to make us equal again.”

“Good!”

—

“Leviathan, I need to borrow your TSL record,” his voice was deadpan as he knocked on the door three times in a row. Why would he beat around the bush? There was no reason to play nicely when he had a curt relationship with the third-born in the first place. Frankly, he was still angry that Leviathan hadn’t told him about what it would feel like to give his body over to Mammon in the first place. “I know you haven’t left your room since dinner.”

“No.”

Mammon gawked at him from the side. “Oi, ya’ can’t just tell him why we’re here! That was so awful. He won’t do you any favors if you just ask him like that. You gotta get inside his head and play around with his head first! What’s your bright idea in the first play just askin’ him like that?”

Saeran shrugged. Sure, they were here to get the record so that they could use it against Lucifer, but he wasn't going to stress himself out over it. If he couldn't get it willingly, he was just going to steal it the next time Leviathan left his room. It wasn't like he was above theft. He had done plenty worse in the past and the bar was on the floor when it came to his innocence. Either way, he was going to get what he needed.

“How else are we gonna get it, then?” Mammon asked.

Just as soon as Saeran opened his mouth, someone else spoke from down the hall. It was familiar…. If only because the voice belonged to the other human exchange student. Solomon didn’t seem out of place in a house like this, but what did strike Saeran as odd was why he would be here in the first place. Unless he was here to see one of Mammon’s brothers… not that any of them took kindly to humans in the first place.

“Oh, I was wondering who was out here making all that racket. So, it’s the two of you… I’ve heard a lot about your recent pact in the R.A.D. Of course, the rumors are interesting. A human who looks very ordinary at first glance, nothing too special, but he’s already managed to deceive one of the Avatars of Sin into a pact. Apparently, the demon must have been a real idiot, since he let the human discover and exploit his greatest weakness so easily,” Solomon chuckled.

Mammon hissed. He didn't appreciate being called an idiot by anyone, but he especially didn't seem to appreciate it coming from somebody like Solomon. “Hey! That’s my real private business. It ain’t got nothing to do with you, Solomon. What’re you doin’ here, anyway? I don’t remember inviting you to stay here!”

“I’m here to see Leviathan,” Solomon explained as he brushed past the two of them and knocked on the door with a mysterious pattern. “Of course, neither of you was invited. We have plans to hold our next discussion about our expectations for the next novel in The Tale of the Seven Lords. You’ll have to excuse me, boys.”

Leviathan called from the other side of the door, “Password challenge! You may only enter if you know the rest of this sentence: The Lord of Fools…”

“Attempted to steal the Lord of Corruptions platypus, which could lay golden eggs…”

“Having incurred the wrath of the Lord of Corruption for his misdeed…”

“It was ordered that the Second Lord would be forever dubbed ‘The Lord of Fools’.”

Solomon entered the room and left Mammon and Saeran to sit there without a way inside. Did that mean that there was a password lock that could only be triggered with a voice command? Damn, the passcode could be anything to do with The Tale of the Seven Lords. It was no different than the silly system his twin brother put in place in the bunker. Was Leviathan in control of it or was it a spell he placed to ensure that nobody could get inside without the right code?

Damn.

The only way he was going to get what he needed was to learn every possible passcode that could be used on Leviathan’s door. It wasn't what he wanted to do, but it was the only way to ensure he had a way inside that wouldn’t give him a headache. He wouldn't use the same password twice. That would be stupid. It would be stupid if he allowed the same password twice after he and Mammon heard the one Solomon used.

“They just revealed the password! We just need to do what Solomon did,” Mammon concluded, his fist banging on the door as he tried to repeat the same pattern that Solomon did. Saeran opened his mouth to stop him from making a fool of himself, but Mammon used a bungled version of Solomon’s words to try to appease his younger brother, and Leviathan scoffed on the other side of the door. “Oi! I got it close enough!”

Leviathan grumbled, “Pathetic! If you and the human want to try again, you should at least watch TSL on DVD instead of making a lame attempt at guessing the lore! I especially don’t want you to hear you butcher the great words of Christopher Peugeot, Mammon!”

It was almost more trouble than it was worth.

But, if Saeran was going to get his answer, he needed to grit his teeth and make it happen. As long as he approached it in the same way he did when he needed to find a way to manipulate MC into going into the apartment, he could make it work. He spent hours going through all kinds of resources that had no quality that was interesting to him in the first place. But, it was… crucial in making sure he reached his goal. In the name of his goal, he could roll up his sleeves and get as dirty as needed.

“C’mon, Mammon. I have a different plan.”

Well, this time, his goal was to make sure that what he was afraid of couldn't get him first.

With the added bonus of putting Leviathan in his place for manipulating Saeran first.

Chapter 4

“I don’t see how this is a different plan. We’re just doin’ exactly what Leviathan told you to do. You want to spend all night watching TSL just to get back at him?”

Saeran sighed. He picked up the remote from the floor and looked over at the demon, “That’s just it. The only way inside his room is to learn the source material for his password lock. We wouldn’t have this problem if your brother would’ve chosen to use an electronic lock. I could’ve had us in his room before he knew what hit him if I was working with that. But, since he’s using magic, there’s no way to get inside except for learning every possible password combination.”

Mammon blinked. He was clearly confused by that information. “What, ya’ some kind of genius hacker or something?”

Saeran snorted. It was the first time in a while that he felt compelled to laugh at something, even as dark as that question was. Oh, he was a hacker… even if he hadn’t dabbled in it for months, the long lessons he learned weren’t something he could ever forget.

It was drilled into his skull from a young age and it wouldn't be erased so easily. He spent years learning as much as he could with a gun against his head so why would he forget? He could never forget the fear he felt when his finger tapped the wrong number. It was a punishment that could be stopped by doing the right thing for Rika.

He learned how to make sure his options were only the correct ones from the beginning. It was a shame that skill couldn't be put to use in this situation, though.

“You could say that,” he said, dryly.

“Damn, remind me about that later since we could probably use that to make some major Grimm—” Mammon shut his mouth as soon as he noticed the scowl on Saeran’s face. He chuckled, nervously, a subject change on the horizon. “Anyway! Why do I gotta stick around to watch the full TSL series on DVD with ya’? It’s 12 hours long! What’s up with that? We'll be up all damn night!”

Behind them, Beelzebub was munching on a bucket of popcorn. He showed up somewhere in the middle of Saeran setting up the television and planted himself in the corner with enough food in his hands to feed a country. “Yeah, and it’s almost time for the midterms. You must have a lot of free time, Mammon.”

“Oi! I don’t have a lot of free time! You’re one to talk, Beel! What about you? You're here, too! You ought to have a lot of free time, too, huh?!”

“A movie marathon means there’s going to be a lot of popcorn,” Beelzebub said. It was a matter-of-fact tone. It didn't matter if he had free time or not at that point, he was here to satiate his bottomless pit of a stomach. As long as he didn't think about taking a bite out of him, Saeran didn’t care what he did. It wasn’t his problem as long as Beelzebub stayed where he was.

Mammon grumbled, “You’re tellin’ me you’re just here for the food, beggin’ the human for treats like some kind of dog?”

“You’re one to talk,” Beelzebub said.

Mammon growled at him, though it halted when Saeran hit his forearm. He didn't want to deal with any more arguments, he just wanted to get this out of the way so he could get the answers he needed. It was already complicated enough that he needed to go this far to get the answer, he didn't want to have more trouble in the middle. As long as he could make it through the night, it would be fine.

The only concern he wanted to have was how long he could keep himself awake throughout a story he wasn't sure he'd be interested in.

With a steady hand, he decided to turn on the movie knowing that it was going to be the longest night of his life.

It wasn't long before he settled into a comfortable rhythm. The story wasn't all that convoluted and it was easy to pick up the pieces. Frankly, it reminded him of that game that Yoosung Kim played all the time with his brother. There was something about the fantasy setting that didn’t irk Saeran, so he had to count his blessings that Leviathan’s special interest was easy to digest. As to be expected, there were seven lords that reigned the land and they were always picking at each other’s throats.

That all changed when a commoner by the name of Henry appeared. He was a righteous hero who had no idea what he was getting into by stumbling into the lands that belonged to the Seven Lords. But, as it turned out, his appearance in their land meant that change was on the horizon. It was the story of his effort to bring them together and right the wrongs between them, of course, there was trouble on every path he took.

Why wouldn’t there be?

It wouldn’t be much of a story if there wasn’t trouble.

Every time it seemed like he was getting closer to what he wanted, something would be thrown in his path and he would have to start over again. Frankly, if he was in Henry's position, he would have given up a long time ago because there was no hope of fixing the wrongs between those lords. It couldn't be fixed if they weren't willing to put in the effort to fix it. It didn't matter how much somebody tried to nudge them in the right direction, if they didn't choose it for themselves, it would never happen.

That was supposedly how the power of change worked.

That was the kind of lesson his therapist had harped on about months ago.

You couldn't fix people that didn't want to be fixed. It was why people got frustrated with Saeran. He just didn't want to be “fixed” because he was miserable. He needed to feel miserable for a little while, that's all. It wasn't like he was hurting himself or anybody else. As long as he wasn't doing that nobody was going to make a point of provoking him.

“Mammon, stop crying. You look like a child.”

“C’mon, Beel! How could they blame the Lord of Fools like that? He was worried about the Lord of Flies! He had no idea that the food was going to end up spoiling! It's not fair. He was tryin’ hard to be helpful for once and he met well. So, why? Why? They shouldn't be blaming him for that! All he had was the goal of helpin’ his brother!”

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in TSL, Mammon.”

“How can I not cry over that? It’s just so… so sad!” An arm was slung around Saeran’s shoulder as the second-born tried to console himself. “You think so too, don’t ya’, Saeran? Ain’t it worth cryin’ over if the Lord of Fools is blamed for somethin’ outta his control? He meant well!”

Saeran was too shell-shocked by the embrace to say much. Normally, he wouldn't let anybody get this close to him. What surprised him the most was that his immediate reaction wasn't to shove him away. This stuff usually felt like a threat to him. It wasn't like anybody ever asked him what he thought about something before. Shouldn't he have pushed the demon away? It was what he’d done a hundred times before, so what made this time different?

That infernal ticking he once felt in his chest was long gone. The aching feeling that came with his pact felt different now. Why?

Saeran stared at Mammon for the longest time before he slowly nodded. He didn't have much of an answer this time around, but this was the first time anybody had asked him his opinion on something that didn't have to do with his life. “I guess so… if that’s what chokes you up.”

Mammon beamed, triumphantly, shooting a look over his shoulder back at his little brother. “I told ya’ so!”

Hours into the movie, he was surprised by how animated Mammon became over the smallest things. It didn’t matter what happened, the second-born was emotionally invested in the story. Whenever he saw the characters fail, succeed, or survive… he’d have something to say. It was only a little annoying… but it wasn’t that bad. It almost felt… normal?

Was this what it felt like to do something normal with other people?

Even if the people, in this case, were demons?

It wasn't like he went out of his way to hang out with other people, and whenever his brother made the offer for him to do something with the RFA, Saeran never went. He never felt like he would belong nor did he feel like he would be welcomed. Sure, for the sake of Saeyoung’s friendship, they’d let him inside but, it wasn't like they would want him around if it wasn’t for that. If Saeyoung wasn’t a factor, they’d want him far, far away.

Nobody would want to be close to a murderer.

Especially not one like Saeran.

Though, near the end of the series, he found himself strangely… peaceful and confused. The night started out like it was the end of his world and now… he felt like he was okay. Of course, feeling okay was far from being okay, but for him… it was different. It wasn't a feeling he understood. He had no idea why he felt that way, but it settled deep inside his chest for whatever reason and he almost didn't want it to stop.

Before he knew it, just before the credits began to roll, his eyes fluttered close and his head tipped to the side, falling against Mammon’s side as if he didn’t mind if it happened.

—

“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at. But, I can’t be manipulated like that idiot, Mammon. Don't play dumb, either. I heard about what you're doing from Lucifer.” Leviathan’s voice was simply dripping in annoyance. He had the gall to corner Saeran right after he returned from the R.A.D. That wasn’t in his cards nor his plan, but it sure saved him some time to have the third-born out of his room like that. “So, give it a rest.”

If only Leviathan had somewhere to go… that would’ve helped him. All he needed was to borrow that cursed record for a single night to find the answer to what was haunting him. Even if he decided to tell Leviathan the truth, he doubted that the demon would give a damn. It didn't matter how much they tried to bring the realms together, there would always be a disconnect between them when it came to these things. They couldn’t give a damn about the human experience.

They were essentially immortal and didn’t have anything to fear! They could never understand his plight. It wasn't like he could say that he was empathetic, either, but there was a difference between what he felt and what demons felt. He doubted Lord Diavolo even spent a moment of his time as he came up with this idea to consider the cultural and emotional impact his choices would have on not just him but the rest of his realm.

And frankly, as hard as it was, it wouldn’t have been so bad if he wasn’t dehumanized every time he was backed into a corner by the beasts.

Saeran didn’t appreciate being trapped. It took every ounce of his self-control not to snap back at the demon in front of him. It wasn't the first time somebody had done this to him, but he wanted it to be the last time. He didn't want to play nice. Nobody was playing nice with him so there was no reason to play nice back. In the past, he would’ve been no different than them, biting and lashing out like a wild dog. Now?

He narrowed his eyes at Leviathan. “You have no idea what I’m doing. You haven’t asked. You just assumed—”

“You know, I've heard it said that the time a fool spends thinking is wasted time. I think that applies here. You're lucky to have so much time on your hands that you can sit around thinking of different schemes like this. There's so much anime I need to watch, so many figurines and trading cards I need to organize, and so many games I need to play just sitting there piled up… As much as I wish I could have a marathon for TSL, I just don’t have the time,” he hissed.

Envy.

Jealousy.

Desire.

“That sounds like a personal problem,” Saeran retorted.

Leviathan didn’t like that. He didn't notice it before, but something was humming in the air that felt unnatural. It took him a moment to realize that it was probably magic. The seeds of jealousy in his eyes were as plain as day. The Avatar of Envy was angry that Saeran had done what he told him to do… What a ridiculous response. “Why do you get to have so much free time? It's so not fair!”

“You know as well as I do that I haven’t got any free time in this exchange program,” Saeran replied.

He didn’t want to lose his cool here since Leviathan’s annoyance could turn into anger in a matter of seconds. Anger and jealousy went hand in hand. They were two sides of the same coin and it didn't take much to push somebody in the other direction. It was far too easy to be angry when somebody had something you desired. If Saeran knew the feeling of jealousy as well as he thought… It didn't take long if you were consumed by a jealous rage to lose control.

It probably would’ve been worse knowing he was the very incarnation of that feeling. That meant that everything Leviathan felt would be the totality of the experience. But, you would have thought that he would have more control over it since he had to live that way for so long. Saeran knew these demons in the Devildom weren’t in control of their emotions. No, they were consumed by them to the point of a world of madness.

It was like a compulsion they couldn't control against their will. But, that didn't bode well for him as he tried to navigate their world with every death threat thrown his way.

It wouldn't be the first time somebody's hands wrapped around his throat, though. Leviathan looked close to it. Was this what he looked like when he lashed out against his brother? Was it the same feeling of aggressive envy he felt at that moment? Did it consume every fiber of his soul and leave him gasping and breathless? What would it feel like to be consumed by that feeling every waking moment of your day? It was suffocating for Saeran, but Leviathan had lived for centuries.

What a poor bastard, Saeran would’ve thought had it not been for the anger he still held towards the third-born for the pact on his skin.

“I don't know what you're plotting, but I'm not about to get all buddy-buddy with some normie, you got it? I’m not like Mammon. Get that through your skull. You can’t bribe me by trying to watch my favorite series. Don’t get any ridiculous ideas in your head, human.” he said.

If he was so busy that he had a million things to consume that would keep him in his room until the end of time, that meant that there was no way to get him out of there. If consuming his favorite thing in the world to discuss it with him wasn't going to be an option, then there was only one more path Saeran could think of. It wasn't what he wanted to work with, but it was the only option afforded to him.

He considered it somewhere in the dead of night as a last-ditch effort. It wasn't that different from something his brother suggested in the past when there was an argument between his friends. The thought occurred to him at just the right moment, now he was going to have to work to get what he wanted. With a deep breath, he changed directions.

With a sneer, he said, “Oh, I don’t want to be your friend, Leviathan. Don't get it twisted. I want to challenge you to see who the biggest TSL fan is.”

Now that caught Leviathan off-guard. It was enough that it left him floundering for words as his mouth opened and closed. That was the last thing the demon expected from him. He took a step away from Saeran. “What? Where the hell did that come from? Do you seriously think you could beat me in a competition about TSL? Haha, that’s damn hilarious! You’ve got to be kidding me! As if I'd accept a challenge like that. I mean, I already know what the outcome would be.”

He just had to dig his hooks in.

“Oh, so… you’re afraid of losing, then?” Saeran asked.

“Excuse me? Did you even process anything I said in that thick skull of yours? Where are you getting this idea that I might lose to you in the first place?”Leviathan countered. He crossed his arms over his chest in a display of false bravado.

“You must be a coward, then, Leviathan. Anybody who is confident in their knowledge wouldn't dare allow somebody who they think is a novice to insult their abilities like that,” Saeran said. Oh, he noted those words that struck a chord. “If you weren't scared, then you wouldn't have a problem in the world accepting my challenge.”

“Excuse me? Excuse me?! Are you listening to a word of anything I'm saying here? Don't tell me you caught stupid from Mammon!”

Saeran chuckled, “I guess you aren't that big of a fan, are you? Are you going to let some human get away with telling you that your knowledge isn't shit?”

The lighting in Leviathan’s eyes reminded Saeran of a stormy sea. But, he had his hook in and this moron had the bait. He was going to get what he needed and there was nothing that could stop him now that he used Leviathan’s self-hatred as a tool. The plan was in motion and he could only follow that path to get where he needed to be.

Leviathan jeered, “Watch what you say, human! Fine. If that’s what you want so badly, I’ll do it, human. I accept the challenge. We'll compete to see which one of us loves TSL more, me, or some dumb human. Just one thing, though. If you lose, you might never make it back to the human world alive.”

The joke was on Leviathan, however, because Saeran didn’t fear his death.

Chapter 5

“Hey, human. I heard you’ve challenged Levi to a competition.”

Saeran glanced over his shoulder to see Satan and Beelzebub. He hadn’t expected either one of them to come looking for him. But, it appeared as though they wanted something from him this time… or, they were simply curious as to how he had managed to get Leviathan to come out of his room. “Yeah, what of it?”

“Well, I have some advice for you,” Satan said, some bemusement in his eyes. “That is if you're willing to take some advice from a demon.”

Oh, that's what it was about. They either wanted to give him advice in the wrong direction or they genuinely wanted to mess with their brother. It was hard to say, but Saeran knew that they weren’t offering this advice for nothing. They were going to get something out of this and even if he didn't know what it was, they weren't going to take no for an answer. Even if it meant they were just getting dinner and a show.

He didn't want to be stuck in the hallway with them for very long, if only because he had another class to get to. So, he sighed and turned around so that he could properly face them. “Alright, then. If you’ve got some advice, I’m all ears. But, don't waste my time. I don't think any one of us has time to waste.”

They didn’t react to that. Even if they weren't giving him advice because they felt like he deserved it, it wasn't like he was going to turn them down. If they were going to this trouble to bother him about it, clearly there was more going on in the background. Then, it occurred to him that Lucifer was aware of all of this. There was something personal hidden amongst this advice they were giving him. It could’ve been a slight to the older brother by enraging Leviathan in public.

Or, not.

Saeran couldn’t say one way or the other.

Beelzebub said, “Well, Levi is the Avatar of Envy. If you can work him into a jealous frenzy, he'll lose control of himself. That'll almost guarantee that he'll slip up, and it'll give you an opening that you can exploit against him. Of course, if he does lose control of himself, your life will be in danger. So, I guess it's up to you what you want to do with your life.”

Saeran had figured that out days ago. It was a feeling he knew very well. He had spent years of his life living in envy of everyone around him, and it wasn't that hard to guess what it must have felt like to be the personification of it. Of course, he hadn't thought about doing it during the competition. It was a little underhanded to go about it that way, but this wasn't exactly a place where people were above that sort of thing.

Any kind of sneaky or underhanded tactic was going to be approved of in this place. Well, it was going to be approved of by anybody that wasn't Lucifer.

“Thanks,” he said. The least he could do at that moment was act thankful for the smallest piece of information. Even if it didn't prove helpful to him, he didn't want to get on their bad side. If he was going to get out of this alive if only for his older brother's sake, he needed to make sure that he didn't piss off the wrong people.

“If you’re thankful, you could buy me a megaton-size bowl of pasta with mixed entrails… oh, and I’d like that topped with sliced anaconda, fried tarantula, and Nile crocodile brains,” the six-born drooled at his own words.

“I’ll give you some advice as well,” Satan added. “The DVD release of TSL is up to season seven now. That’s the most recent release. Meanwhile, the original book version is up to volume eight at this point. The night's volume of the series isn't out yet, but if you want to know what's going to happen in it, you should ask the angel, Simeon.”

Saeran raised a brow, “I presume you're not going to tell me why you're giving me all this advice in the first place? Or, the fact you don't want anything in return for this? That's not how any of you operate. You can't blame me for being suspicious.”

“Don't read too much into it,” Satan’s sly smile didn’t match the look in his eyes. He chuckled. “It's no big deal. Just a show of sportsmanship in the name of the exchange program.”

—

Mammon seemed incredulous as they continued their walk from the R.A.D. “You’re tellin’ me Beel and Satan both gave you hints on how to beat Levi? Ya’ don’t say… How interesting… well, ya’ know why they did that though, right? It’s because I’m lookin after ya’. You’ve got Mammon to thank for this.”

Saeran snorted. Yeah, as if. There was clearly much more to it than that but there were so many details missing between the lines that Saeran didn’t have a way to guess which. The one thing he did know was that they weren't trying to impress their older brother, Mammon.

If anything, they were just trying to make things harder for him.

“Sure, Mammon.”

Mammon paid no mind to that, his hand set on the umbrella he was carrying for the two of them. It wasn’t a heavy downpour but it was rough to be uncomfortable.

“Okay, here’s the deal. Those two are givin’ you some special treatment because they know I’m the one in charge of you. They want me to be pleased with them, ya’ see! Simple as that! So, whaddaya think about that, my human? Now you get it, don’t cha? It’s clear how important I am, and how much my younger brothers respect me!”

“....Yeah, you’re right, Mammon. It’s definitely that,” Saeran kept his stride up as raindrops suddenly kissed his cheeks and he glanced over his shoulder to see Mammon gawking at him like he’d grown a second head. Even if his words had been doused with a bit of sarcasm, a part of it wasn't. There was always a chance that his brothers did feel that way.

Why shouldn't he throw him a bone?

He might have been a greedy bastard, but he wasn’t that bad.

Mammon searched his face for something but he couldn’t find it. “...Hey! Come on, it feels weird you agree with me for once. I mean, don’t you think you should’ve taken that opportunity to put me down or somethin’? After all, you're the one always telling me to stop sayin’ stupid stuff like that all the time to ya’.”

Saeran smiled. Call it fake or not, but since he knew what it felt like to be insulted by the world for no reason but to cut him down, he didn’t want to tear Mammon into ribbons. Call it his act of kindness for once. Maybe MC had rubbed off on him. But, it was hard to not sympathize with the second-born at his lowest moments. When he was a kid, all he ever wanted was to be like his big brother… even if he struggled to believe that as he was today, there was a part of him…

No.

Maybe it wasn’t that different for Mammon’s brothers? At the very least, the most he could offer Mammon was the hope that it wasn’t the other way around. It wasn't like he had any idea about how their relationships were. He'd only seen a glimpse into how they interacted with each other over the past few weeks he'd spent in the Devildom. He could give him this much for making sure he didn't succumb to a panic attack last night.

It was fair enough for turnabout play.

“Oi, don’t smirk at me like that! I know ya’ don’t believe half of what you’re sayin’! Eh, whatever… Just let this be a learning experience, Saeran. You oughta respect me just like they do! Forget it. That ain’t all that important. Let’s get down to business. You and I need to figure out what our strategy’s gonna be with Levi.”

He continued, “First off, what Beel said is right. You’d best face up to the fact that this is gonna involve a lot of risks. So, we’ve gotta figure out how you’re going to make him jealous. He may be called The Avatar of Envy, but it's hard to make him give in. Instead of getting jealous of you, he'll get all negative about his situation. He'll start talking about how it's “not fair” and you're “lucky” and stuff. That’s not what you want.”

“You're not going to be able to get him to lose his school just by doing a little bit of bragging, Saeran. No, you're going to have to do something to make him jealous. I ain’t talkin’ about making him feel jealous on the playground. I mean, ya’ gotta make him so jealous he nearly pops a blood vessel. Hmm, maybe we ought to ask someone for advice, then. What was it Satan told you?”

“He said to talk to Simeon,” Saeran shrugged.

Mammon raised a brow, “Oh, yeah, Satan did say something about talking to Simeon, didn't he? Said ya’ should ask him about the next TSL novel—the one that ain’t out yet for a few months or whatever. Still, why would Simeon know what's going to happen in the next release of a TSL book when it's not even out yet? Eh, whatever, let's just go talk to him and see what he says.”

“Before the bottom falls out, I’d say.”

“Eh, a little water ain’t never hurt nobody.”

“Is that why you’re gripping onto that umbrella like a lifeline?”

“Oi, what if the rain in the Devildom was like acid and ya’ stepped into it without thinking twice? I know ya’ got a death wish, but ya’ could at least act like ya’ don’t!”

Chapter 6

“Alright, everyone! Finally, the wait is over! It’s time for the Devil’s Trivia Showdown, the quiz show that pits demons against humans! Today our competitors will be testing their knowledge regarding a super-famous super-popular fantasy series. One that’s known by young and old alike… The Tale of the Seven Lords. So, let’s introduce our two competitors! First, he’s a demon who freely admits to being a giant TSL nerd! It’s Leviathan!”

Leviathan leaned against his podium with a triumphant look on his face. As far as he knew, this was going to be in the bag before he needed to go to lunch. He had the utmost confidence in his abilities. Everything he had in his arsenal to take him down was prepped and ready to go. “I am the G.O.A.T! None can oppose me!”

Asmodeus chuckled. With a fragrant wave in Saeran’s direction, he cooed, “And his challenger claims to have been introduced to TSL only very recently after binge-watching the DVDs! Say hello- hello to Saeran!”

“We’ll see about that, Leviathan,” Saeran said.

Frankly, he didn't want to be knee-deep in the middle of a room with this many demons but he didn't exactly have a choice at this point. He wanted some answers and this was the only way he was going to get them. As much as he didn't want to go into that attic, he needed to know what was up there. Just so he knew what he was up against… his mind, or the Devildom.

There were enough sleepless nights ahead of him, he didn't need more because Jihyun’s ghost decided to find him after all this time.

It was him or the demons. If he had to choose, he would take the latter. He wouldn't hesitate. This was personal and the answers needed to come out sooner rather than later. It was bad enough that he was firmly stuck in this damned place, he wasn't about to be stuck in this place with his worst nightmare of a human. There was only so much Saeran could tolerate. That list was getting shorter every day, but he needed it to calm down before he lost his mind.

Leviathan growled. He smacked his fist against the desk as a show of annoyance, “You binge-watched the DVDs ONCE! That's it! The fact that you would dare challenge me is an insult to TSL itself. It's so sacrilegious! It's so infuriating that I can't even feel my anger now. I can only laugh about it! Ahahaha!”

“Serving as the judge for today’s challenge is our very own Demon Lord, Diavolo!” Asmodeus pointed to the head of the student council room where the future Demon King himself sat comfortably at the head of the table with the rest of the Avatars of Sin.

“Hello there, everyone. It’s great to see you today!” Diavolo greeted. His smile was cheerful, almost like he was on a game show set like any other human would be if they were so lucky. This was just a game to him. Was everything a game to him? Was that the way he approached every situation he found himself in? It would be a shame if that were the case.

“Color commentary will be provided by Satan, the Avatar of Wrath. But, a good commentator needs to keep a cool head. I wonder, is he really up to the challenge?” Asmodeus said, his leery eyes sliding to his brother with a pointed jab.

Satan sighed. “I don't think that's going to be a problem. So, I'm doing the commentary? That's a lot of responsibility you're giving me, Asmodeus. Oh well, I don't mind this time. Anything to help this little operation.”

“Now, say hello to our guest demon, the always-famished Beelzebub! For his appearance fee, he requested to be compensated with cheeseburgers! How very Beel of him.”

Beelzebub was munching away at a stack of snacks that’d been prepared for him hours ago. Through his muffled chewing, he said, “Nothing beats one of Hell’s Kitchen’s special cheeseburgers. They age the cheese for over four thousand years for maximum flavor.”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough! It’s startin’ to get ridiculous out here! Don’t waste our time! Let’s get this show on the road, Asmo!” Mammon grimaced as Beelzebub’s food went flying in his direction with every chew he made. Saeran would’ve pitied him if it weren’t for the fact that his voice boomed that much louder than everyone else in the room.

Lucifer was on his other side, the raven-haired demon was sitting composed as ever. He turned to see his younger brother gawk at him like a chicken with its head cut off. “I thought you hated wasting your time on events like this, Mammon… and yet, here you are. Truly, wonders never cease.”

“Hey, shut up, Lucifer! I’ve got some free time to spare! That’s all!”

The peanut gallery was far from Saeran’s mind for once. Normally, he would have been uncomfortable with all the eyes watching his every move, but he had to ignore it for the sake of progress. He agreed to this for a reason and it needed to be done. All he had to do was collect himself, hold his breath, and put the information he and Mammon received to good use. It was surprisingly easy to get that information from an angel. Well, that was sort of their job, wasn’t it?

To help humans and make sure they didn’t get their heads cut off?

Asmodeus nodded from between Saeran and Leviathan, tapping his microphone to make sure it was set up right, “Well then, we’ll start with you, Saeran! Let’s get the show going! Get ready for the TSL Quiz question number one! The Seven Lords are brothers, and each has a specific title used by their kingdom, in birth order, name the oldest, second oldest, and third oldest of the lords.”

Easy.

Saeran said, “The Lord of Corruption, Fools, and Shadow.”

The praise was a little much, but that seemed to be Asmodeus’ charm. The only reason he was the one reading the commentary was that he needed to be the center of attention. Nobody wanted to do it and he was more than happy to make sure that he could make everything about himself. It was better than Beelzebub munching through the questions, he thought.

“Well, how about that? Guess we need to watch out! You’re absolutely correct! Way to start the game off on the right foot, Saeran!”

“Oh, come on! Anybody could’ve gotten that right!” Leviathan cried.

Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “Alright, Leviathan. It’s your turn. Here comes question number two! In what year did the Lord of Shadow build the Blue Palace for his imaginary mistress?”

“The year six hundred and ninety-three of the ancient era,” Leviathan’s response was automatic. It took him mere seconds to wreck his brain for the answer. It was about what he expected to happen, but as long as he could keep going at the rate he was, Saeran would be able to utilize that secret to the best of his abilities. How long would it take before he could postulate it?

“Correct! What an impressive showing from the self-described TSL nerd!”

Leviathan cheered. He was far too proud of himself for managing to get one question right. This was far from over and they could be here for a while. “In me, you bear witness to a legend!”

Satan leaned back in his chair, finger against his chin as he mused, “Even so, is it just me, or was that question a little too specific to start off with? Only a mega nerd would know something like that. I think we’ve got an interesting debate coming.”

“Alright, back to you, Saeran! The Sixth Lord is the Lord of the Flies. What does he love to eat more than anything else?” Asmodeus asked.

Oh. Now, that was suspicious. Saeran shot a look in Satan’s direction. He made that pointed jab for a reason. Satan didn’t play around. That became abundantly clear when he twisted Saeran’s arm to get a taste of wrath. The questions they asked him thus far were much too easy. If the next thing they were to ask Leviathan was much too complicated for its own good, then they’d rigged this competition for a reason. They wanted him to win, but why?

Why?

Satan didn’t meet his gaze, but he answered the question as expected, “A cursed goat tartare sandwich with cheese.”

Asmodeus cooed again, “Correct! Ooooh, so impressive! That was a tough one, too! You really do know your stuff, don’t you, Saeran? Hmm… a cursed goat tartare with cheese… is that sort of like a cheeseburger more or less?”

Honestly, it felt like he was being patronized like a dog. He wasn't some cute thing they could laugh about doing tricks. In fact, this probably did feel like a dog show to the demons. They could try to rip apart their brother's confidence and get a human to do a backflip all at the same time. If he thought too hard about it, it would make him angry. Even as he was making progress to survive, the more it became clear there was a long way to go before anything akin to peace could be had between the realms.

If they couldn't see humans on the same level as them, nothing would ever be as they wanted it to be.

“Now, back to Mr. Reliable himself, Leviathan! Here comes your next question. In the Tale of the Seven Lords Volume Three, page seven hundred and seventy-two, what does the Lord of Fools say in the fifth line from the top?” Asmodeus asked. His eyelashes fluttered innocently. Leviathan cursed in response, likely reaching a similar conclusion that Saeran had. If he hadn’t, he was close to commenting on it.

Still, he answered lightning quick, “Money is my dearest and closest friend. It’s everything to me. The blood bonds I share with my brothers are like the weak, wispy threads of a spider in comparison.”

Asmodeus clapped, “Amazing! That's correct! What's even more astonishing is that it's an exact match word for word!”

“You know, the more I learn about the Lord of Fools, the clearer it is that he's a total scumbag,” Satan jeered from the audience. He sighed when Mammon stood up and looked at him from the other side of the table. “You heard me, Mammon.”

“...Hey, why does it feel like you're insulting ME right now?” Mammon scowled. He sat back down when Lucifer looked at him, likely with a glare that Lord Diavolo wouldn’t notice. He swallowed as soon as the fear crossed his face. “Nevermind.”

“Alright, moving on, it's your turn again, Saeran! This is regarding the fifth brother, the Lord of Lechery. Who does he love more than anyone else?”

“Himself.”

“Well, well, excellent! You are absolutely right! So, the fifth lord loves himself above all else. I like that. He sounds like my kind of guy.” Asmodeus sighed. There was a dreamy look on his face as if he could agree with that mentality. Of course, if there was a character he could enjoy out there, it would be one who knew what it felt like to love himself more than anyone else ever could. Well, that was a classic narcissist for you. God knows Asmodeus would’ve gotten into a fight with Hyun Ryu if they were unfortunately left alone in the same room for too long.

“C’mon, hurry up, Asmo! It’s my turn!” Leviathan said. No, it was more like he demanded. The sound of his foot tapping against the ground was annoying.

“Leviathan, you've gotten every question correct thus far. But, prepare yourself, because question number three is coming right at you. I hope you’re ready to put everything on the line! In volume four of the DVD series, at exactly one hundred and fifty-nine minutes and thirty-five seconds in, what is the Lord of Masks holding tightly in his left hand?” Asmodeus asked, his eyes flickering over the card in his hand as if he doubted his brother’s ability to answer this one.

Yet again, Leviathan proved he was capable when it came to his favorite series. He cried, “He’s holding a flower from a carnivorous grodoodle plant, grown by the Lord of Corruption!”

“Excellent! That only flashed on the screen for a brief moment, and yet you still caught it with your keen eye! Amazing! Your knowledge truly is expansive, in fact, I'd even say it's creepy .”

“Hey, is it just me, or have all of my questions been way harder than Saeran’s are? Like, suspiciously harder! What’s up with that? Why give him a cakewalk? Though, they’re still too easy for me so I'm ready to fall asleep here. How long are we going to keep up this charade? This is getting boring and I can do this all day. Stop throwing the human a bone!”

Mammon spoke up from the head of the room, “Hey, I'd say it has. Alright, Saeran, it’s time to pull out that trump card of yours! Pull out big guns and put him in his place! Let’s see how Levi here likes being on the receiving end of something he’s incapable of stopping this time! Levi, you’re way too full of yourself! Which is why we're about to reach inside of ya’, yank out that pride, and crush it like a bug.”

Saeran looked at him. The demon nodded at him like it was confirmed that this was the time to stop child's play. They went to this much trouble, now it was time to see if it was worth all the effort they put into it. As long as they could knock him off guard, it would be easy to send him into a frenzy and whatever happened after that would give him enough time to get what he needed. If it just destroyed the third-born, he would have time to grab that cursed record and get the hell out of there.

Asmodeus gasped, though, it was hard to tell if it was fake or not. “Wow! It sounds to me like the gauntlet has just been thrown down. It would seem Saeran has some sort of advantage Levi doesn’t! Why don’t we check in with our commentator to see what he has to say? Satan, what do you think? What could it possibly be?”

Satan hummed. “Well, it's not all that surprising Saeran would come into this with a secret weapon to save his skin. After all, a human can only do so much against a demon at times like this. It seems that the advice I gave him is about to pay in some dividends. Excellent.”

“Oh, that’s so scandalous, Satan! Oh, I suppose this would be a good time to get your take on this as well, Beel!”

“If you want to hear what I have to say, it's going to cost you. Let's say, an extra-large bowl of katsudon and miso soup to go along with it.”

“Okay, whose idea was it to invite Beel to this, huh?! He's done nothing but eat his fill this entire time! In any event, if Saeran really does have some secret weapon, it could mean something that’ll make him winning against Leviathan possible! Perhaps we should hear what Saeran’s opponent has to say about this! Levi, tell me, what’s running through your head right now?” Asmodeus cheered, all eyes turning over to the Avatar of Envy who seemed to be in a fit of laughter.

“Lol! ROFLMAO.”

Asmodeus blinked, “Right… I have absolutely no idea what he's saying, but clearly, he doesn't see this as a threat. Got it! So, what could his trump card be?! Let’s find out from Saeran! So, what’s this secret you’re holding in your hands, Saeran? We’re all ears!”

He could do this. He'd been through worse things in his life than this, so that meant this was nothing. Spending years of his life trying to stay alive in a cult was nothing compared to this. It was just a silly little game. But, this game was another threat to his life and he needed to make sure it didn't go the wrong way. Whatever stress he felt over the noises he heard in the dead of night would be gone if he could just win this competition.

He was desperate for a night of restful sleep.

Saeran took in a breath. It all came down to this. All he needed to do was say those little words and it would all go according to plan. “The Lord of Masks has come up with a plan to gain more power for himself, and in doing so, he’s been playing the long game against the Lord of Shadow. What the Lord of Shadow thinks to be a unification party will turn out to be a massive trick played at his expense. It’s an ambush on his quest to ruin the Lord of Corruption.”

“...Wh—What? No! That's insane! The Lord of Masks would never do that to the Lord of Shadow! I have to say that that is a lie! Pure hogwash! Don't think you can fool me by making up some random stuff that you came up with on your own, human! You can't just spout nonsense here! This is libel and slander of the TSL series!” Leviathan sputtered, his hands trembling against the desk as he floundered, lost at this new information that assaulted him.

Lord Diavolo chimed in from the audience, “Hmm, actually… Saeran doesn’t appear to be lying. As far as I can tell, he's telling the truth. There appears to be no such lie in his words. So, this must be his fact, not fiction.”

Asmodeus nodded. Well, this was news to him. “Levi, you know as well as I do that Lord Diavolo can discern whether someone is lying or telling the truth. If he doesn't think that the human is lying, the human isn't lying. So, you can't claim he is lying when he isn't.”

“B—But! No! Everyone online has been talking about how the Lord of Masks and the Lord of Shadow are going to make up in the next novel! It’s right there in print! What you said can't happen, human! It—It can’t happen! It won’t happen! There's no way that's happening in the next novel! I don't care what everyone else says, I know more about this series than anyone else! There's no way something like that will happen when the story has been leading in the other direction for years.” Leviathan spat. His expression darkened by the minute.

As to be expected, Leviathan wasn’t happy with this news.

This was his favorite series in the world, and the thought that there was information that he couldn't have his hands on, was enough to throw him into a jealous rage. That's why an overwhelming feeling of magic began to surge in the room behind him. At least, Saeran thought it was magic. It was so hard to describe it because he never experienced anything like that before.

It was like breathing in a thick fog that wouldn't go away no matter how much you tried to defrost yourself. Saeran could hear Mammon laugh in the background of that swirling feeling that began to swarm all around him, “Huh, so all that stuff that Simeon told you was true, then! How about that.”

What was it?

The sticky saturation he felt all around him had become so sharp he wasn't sure he could breathe for long. What was happening? The only thing he could describe at that moment was the feeling of true terror burning in his veins. It was that feeling you had before something horrible happened to you and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

That feeling he had whenever his mother would corner him with a bottle, the feeling he had whenever he was thrown into the basement by Rika, the feeling he had whenever somebody suffocated him with their thoughts and emotions without asking him what he wanted, all of that and more!

That terror was so strong he could feel his stomach starting to settle inside his throat.

Saeran took a step back from his spot, but the growing storm all around him was only closing in on him by the minute. He had the sense that no matter how far he tried to get away, it would never be enough. Why was he so terrified? He told himself that he was going to see this through, but his body seemed to be feeling something that he couldn't stop or overpower.

What was more terrifying than anything he’d already experienced?

Why was his body responding like that?

A sharp breath filled his lungs like a hot dagger in his veins. Fuck. This was worse than the threats he faced before. What the hell was happening? He knew the power held in this realm was far beyond any scope a human like him could comprehend, but this wasn’t… this was—

He was going to die.

“Alright, uh… Okay, I suppose that settles who the true TSL nerd is…” Asmodeus trailed.

“I won't stand for this. All you did was stay up one-night marathoning the DVDs . Do you call yourself a real fan? Lies! A little human like you would never get your hands on this through genuine means! You’re cheating! It’s not fair! You’re not playing by the rules! You’re not a better fan than me! No way! No way! It’s not fair! The idea that someone like you could actually be a bigger TSL fan than me, it's …”

Saeran could do nothing. His body wouldn’t react no matter how hard he tried to reason with his legs to move. It was just like that time when he lost control of himself! Reflected in Leviathan’s eyes was a memory of Mint Eye, when his envy consumed him because Rika dared to confess that she would’ve preferred his “smarter, better” brother from the start! That confession destroyed him.

It broke him… it broke every part of his soul until he was blind with rage and an elixir overdose, and that’s when he did something he couldn’t take back. Saeran stumbled backward, one step, but that memory made him feel sick. The situation was bad enough that it triggered a flashback. It meant he was useless to protect himself. He couldn't protect himself in general against a demon, but now he couldn't even run away. He fucked up.

His vision clouded between the past, his screaming, shouting, and crying for any answer as to why he wouldn’t be good enough for his Savior; and, between the sight of Levi’s breakdown at the realization that someone could do something he loved “better” than him.

He watched as a massive amount of Leviathan’s magic poured out of his veins and clouded him in a transformation that left him looking more demonic by the second. Horns sprouted from his head in nothing more than a heartbeat, and a long tail snaked behind him. His eyes seeped with envy and the color orange, all the while he growled, howling with pain and misery ripping apart any sort of portion of his brain that could rationalize thought.

Leviathan was consumed with jealousy.

Somewhere in the midst of jealousy, Saeran could hear Mammon trying to diffuse the situation. “Whoa, whoa… Leviathan, calm down! It ain't that big a deal!”

“No… no! I will not stand for this !” Leviathan’s trembling form wouldn’t stay still for long. He was going to move sooner or later. Whatever he was thinking, he was going to make it happen. The way he looked at Saeran was like a monster who wanted to destroy him until there was nothing left to bury in the ground. “No human deserves my title! It’s not fair! He’ll pay for it!”

No…

No!

Leviathan moved, he moved far faster than Saeran could comprehend, his body jumping from the other side of the room with animosity burning in his demonic soul. Saeran knew he would be long dead before he could even process how to stop it from happening. He was going to die because he wanted to rid himself of the ghost he killed. This was the price of his hubris. This was the cost of a horrible man who took the life of another in a jealous rage.

He would die the way he lived before he was ripped away from Mint Eye—

No!

As much as he was willing to throw his life away because he thought it wasn't worth it, the fear in his body told him otherwise. Even if he told himself he wanted to die, even if he repeated it over and over again to everyone who ever looked at him the wrong way—

The truth was—

“Dammit… Saeran, run! Get out of there!”

Saeran didn’t want to die!

So, for the first time since he was a child, Saeran’s quivering voice called out for help when he knew he couldn’t save himself, the nagging feeling inside of him leading him to use a command he never once thought he’d use, invoking his pact. “Mammon… help!”

“Hold on, I’m comin’!” Mammon called. He jumped over the desk he sat at and landed in front of it, ready to knock his brother off his rocker, only to slip in a pool of liquid that’d been left on the ground by Beelzebub, “Beel, you idiot! You got ice cream everywhere! Where the hell did you even— Dammit, I’m not gonna make it in time!”

Saeran closed his eyes just as Leviathan’s hand came within inches of his body, stumbling backward onto his hand to catch himself, waiting for death to take him the way it should’ve. But, despite that rasping gasp in the back of his throat, the feeling of pain never came. He opened his eyes when there was a tickle of feathers against his arms. Standing in front of him was the Avatar of Pride, cloaked by three sets of wings that billowed around his body like a cape.

His voice was saturated with a calm rage, “...I believe you were going to settle this with a quiz, weren’t you? Not through violence. You’re out of control, Leviathan.”

“L… Lucifer,” Leviathan was stopped in his tracks. Lucifer had deflected the attack like it was child’s play. This was the power they were talking about. Everything before this moment had been nothing more than an era of formality. This was a mere glimpse at the power that they contained inside of the Devildom. It was stronger than anything Saeran imagined. They were not mortal.

At the same time, it was more terrifying than any monster he could have imagined. If he was afraid of anything, it was his father, but this was a different kind of monster. His monster was a tangible kind that any human could imagine, but this? This kind of monster? This was the sort of thing a child could only describe to an adult as something beyond reason and nobody would believe it until it was too late.

Lucifer spoke again, this time, with a command. “Levi, go back to your room and cool off.”

Leviathan didn't say a word. He seemed to be too caught up in the realization his jealousy had gotten the better of him and his brother stopped him. Was he angry he couldn't complete his task or was he upset that he made a fool of himself in front of everyone? Either way, he had been seconds away from killing Saeran. If it wasn't for Lucifer, he would be dead.

“Leviathan, you heard what he said, right?” Diavolo’s voice was in the same strangely calm state. It was obvious they were playing up the niceties for Saeran’s sake. If they pretended this wasn't as big of a deal as it was, it would be better for them in the long run. They could claim that he was never in danger, but that wasn't the case. Every waking minute of his time spent in the Devildom was in danger.

It took a moment, but Leviathan got the picture and headed out of the room sooner rather than later. The suffocating feeling left the room with him. Finally, Saeran could breathe again. He pressed his free hand to his lips, stiffing the sound that would’ve otherwise dared to escape. God, he was going to be so sick once this was over. He almost died. He almost died and he—

He didn’t want to die…?

Lucifer sighed as if he’d stopped a child from having a tantrum and not attempted murder. “What is it, Mammon? You look like you want to say something.”

“No, I don't want to say nothin’.” Mammon’s voice was somber, almost completely sullen, as he slipped past his older brother to head to Saeran’s side. Saeran was too out of it to realize all of the commotion happening around him as the demons glanced around to figure out what they were supposed to do now.

Asmodeus laughed, almost nervously. The tension in the room wasn’t what it used to be. “So, what are we going to do now? How are we supposed to have our competition without Levi?”

“I suppose that means the composition ends in a draw. Neither of them completed the quiz rounds or reached victory,” Diavolo concluded.

Satan’s voice was filled with amusement clouded with false sincerity. He planned this from the start. It was a part of his plan to mess with everyone… there was no way around that. Saeran should’ve known it was because they wanted to make a fool out of someone. “Still, I have to say I find it very surprising you would go out of your way to rescue some measly human, Lucifer. It’s very surprising… don’t you agree, Mammon?”

Mammon grumbled, “Why’re you askin’ me?”

“As the oldest, I naturally must clean up my younger brothers’ messes, nothing more,” Lucifer said, simply.

Chapter 7

Mammon was chatting away as if there wasn’t a problem. His words were the only thing keeping Saeran grounded in reality, frankly. Most of it went in one ear and out the other, but it was enough chatter to keep Saeran from floating away into his memories. He felt numb, staring mindlessly as his demon wrapped and unraveled thick bandages on his bruised arm.

It didn’t occur to him that he’d hurt himself until he was already back in his room at the House of Lamentation. If that was the only token he had of his survival from that mess, it was a blessing he’d only gotten that much. He wouldn’t be able to use that hand for much… at least, for a week or two. Fortunately, he could write with either one of his hands so it wasn’t going to affect anything he had coming in terms of homework.

Hah…. homework…

Of course, there would be no break for him. There was an expectation that he needed to keep going no matter what happened to him. It didn't matter how many death threats were thrown his way or how close he came to death, the program was more important than anything else. That's what he could tell from the look in Lucifer's eyes. He didn't matter in the long run, it was that the program needed to be perfect. It didn't matter how that was achieved.

Mammon weaved the familiar pattern between his fingertips, “So, ya’ made it out of that without being attacked only to end up falling on your ass and sprainin’ your wrist in the process. Seriously, could you be more of a klutz? You humans really are way less physically capable than us demons.”

“That's because they don't eat enough, and unlike us, they just don't eat the right things,” Beel chimed in from the table on the side of the room. His mouth was coated in the mess of cheese and meat on his pizza.

“Stop tying everything back to food, Beel! Actually, why are you even here, anyway? Seems to me that you've been spending an awful lot of time here since the DVD marathon,” Mammon grumbled. “Did you even ask if you could stay?”

“Well, so have you. I mean, you even left his cell phone charger here, and a toothbrush, too. That's how much you're over here,” Beel swallowed his bite of pizza, standing up from the table as he came over to see how Mammon was doing his handiwork. It was a mess. Saeran knew how to wrap up wounds like that but he didn’t have the strength to do so. Mammon assumed he didn’t have a clue and took it upon himself to make it happen. “I don’t think you asked if you could do that, either.”

His fingers twitched against the cloth, hurriedly tying off a knot and tucking it underneath his palm for a half-decent job that Saeran could fix later if it “W—Well, that’s because…! Uh… you know, I’ve gotta look after this human, don’t I? That’s my job! I’m his Guardian Demon!”

“Mammon, you’re doing a terrible job with those bandages,” Beel pointed out. It was obvious but he couldn’t be stopped. Mammon hadn’t left his side since they left the R.A.D. Like a guard dog, they’d say. It was so strange to be coddled in a way that didn't feel like he was being treated like a child. How could he be treated like a child when this situation had nothing to do with that? His power was no different than a child in comparison to all of them.

But, he wasn't stupid enough to think that he could fight any of them. Even if he could win in a game of words, he would never be stronger than them physically. Not in his state… not as weak and sickly as he was compared to an average human… not with all the health issues that he could barely take care of on a good day.

The fact of the matter was that the power disparity between him and the rest of them was laughable. He thought he was the strongest person in the world at one point in his life, but that couldn't have been any more than a joke. Even at his most powerful, the only threat he held in his hand was a bomb. A bomb was nothing in the face of their power.

It was nothing.

“Hey, shut up! I've never had to wrap someone's wrist before, okay? I don't know how it works! And, if you think I'm doin’ such a bad job, why don't you do it, Beel?” Mammon complained. He looked at his younger brother, obscuring his face from Saeran’s view as he grumbled. “Dammit, Beel. Can't you listen to me when I'm talkin’ to you? Hey, wait a minute! Isn’t that my slice you’ve got in your hand?”

“Mmm… you know, nothing hits better than a pizza at midnight… You know, I could really go for a soda right now… I’m going to run to the kitchen.”

“...Hey, Beel! You put down one of those slices! Down, boy, down! Hey! Of all the… ugh, seriously. You better keep an eye on all your food from now on if he’s going to be skulking around here. It’ll be yours he’s after next time around,” Mammon said. He placed Saeran’s hand back into his lap before leaning his back against the bed next to him. “Not that I ever see ya’ eatin’ more than a few bites whenever we get human world food.”

Saeran didn’t say anything.

What was the point?

His life flashed before his eyes and he realized something he didn't want to admit to himself for a long time. As much as he said he didn't care about living or dying, as it turned out, he wanted to live just as much as anybody else. Was that stupid? Was that even fair for him to desire after everything he had ever done to people? Did he deserve the chance to live a life after he'd taken a life?

It was the very question haunting him since the moment he started having nightmares… visions of that man burning in the back of his mind like it would never be erased. It didn’t just start when he heard it in the attic… no, it started long before he’d come to the Devildom. The feeling of knowing that he had lived despite everything he’d ever gone through while everyone else hadn’t.

Did he even deserve this?

The realization of his hopeless dream was mixed in with his shame. His memories of that day were clouded with the foolish cry of a young boy inside of him. A vision of someone who wanted badly, strongly, and truly to be loved and wanted just like anyone else… that vision had broken him again… once again. As angry as he wanted to be at Leviathan, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Hatred… his true hatred… he couldn’t bring himself to hate Leviathan for almost killing him.

Because—

Leviathan was no different than he was.

Saeran was no different than a demon at the end of the day, and that’s why… he knew that was why it was so easy for him to shrug his shoulders. He knew what it felt like to have everything put in front of him on a silver platter and he couldn't even touch it. That's why he thought it would have been simple to do it to somebody else. Yet, in the face of actually making it happen, he felt guilty.

Was he just all talk and no bite?

How was he going to survive in this place?

Did he even deserve to survive in this place? Wouldn't it have been better if they killed him and got it over with? Even if he wanted to live, he wasn’t the human they needed to make this happen. He would never be the human they needed.

“Ya’ used your pact earlier,” Mammon said, quietly.

He had.

“Sorry,” were the first words Saeran could muster after hours of radio silence. He never wanted to use that pact given what it was capable of. He didn't want to force somebody to do something against their will. He wouldn’t have wanted that to happen to him, which was why he never wanted to learn how to use the damn thing in the first place. His desire has been so strong that his words correlated into a pact.

“What’re ya’ sorry for?! Pact or no pact, I was comin’ to save ya’! It’s my job to protect you! I don’t care if you use your pact to make me do that for ya’!” Mammon grabbed him by the shoulders so there was no other choice but to look at him. “You said you didn’t care if you died, Saeran! But, ya’ begged me to save your life! I don’t know everythin’ about ya’, but if you were willin’ to ask for help like that, I know you want to live.”

Saeran looked down.

Did he?

Or, was it simply his body’s desire to not shut down against his mind’s wishes?

“Listen, the next time your life is in danger, I’m gonna be the one to save you, alright? Don’t you ever forget that… and, if I can’t manage to save you, then make sure you die, got it?! I don’t want no one else steppin’ in and savin’ you, alright?! It’s either me or no one, understand? Ya’ don’t gotta tell me why ya’ wanna die or why ya’ don’t wanna die! But, since ya’ begged for me to save ya’ today, it means that either I save you or you get your death wish!”

Saeran quickly looked back at Mammon, his blue eyes wide with shock. Why the hell would he want to go that far for somebody like him? Nobody had ever said those words to him before. Even when he was at his worst and he was begging his brother to let him go, Saeyoung refused to listen to anything he said because he didn’t want Saeran to die. But, Mammon… he seemed to understand Saeran without even a second glance.

This was beyond confusing for Saeran.

“Why?” he whispered.

This time, Mammon looked away, warmth spreading across his face, “Because, ya’ know, it’s my job!”

—

The last thing Saeran expected was to get a text in the middle of the night. It was from Leviathan, the third-born told him if he wanted to get the record, he needed to come and meet him right away. That was a surprise. Against his better judgment, he decided that he would see what the Avatar of Envy truly wanted from him. Was it stupid to go alone? Probably. However, if it was that bad, Mammon would be awake if something went wrong. That’s what he said before.

Of course, the worst part about getting out of his room was trying to unravel Mammon’s arms from around him. This was the first time somebody had gotten this close to him, and he didn't know how to feel about it. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to think about it because he needed to get out of that room as soon as possible to meet with Leviathan. He wasn't sure at what point he passed out from the fear and exhaustion, but it happened.

There was no time to think about it.

He would scold the demon in the morning for getting into his personal space… later. This day had already been confusing enough from the moment he woke up, and he didn't want to make it more complicated for himself. He wasn't supposed to be out of his bed at this hour, but if he got caught, so be it. Everybody had a scheduled bedtime, anyway. So it wouldn't just be him getting in trouble if it came down to it.

“I’ve been waiting for you to show up. It took you long enough. You know, when I call for you, you need to come right away, understand? Don't walk, run. I want you moving at light speed! Like the way, Henry races over whenever his best friend the Lord of Shadow calls on him. You watched everyone in the DVDs, I know you know what I mean. He comes riding up on the winged unicorn that he won off of the Lord of Fools in a bet. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this because we're best friends or anything,” Leviathan said, pointedly.

Exhaustion was written across Saeran’s features. He doubted either one of them wanted to have that conversation right now. He wanted to get down to the bottom of whatever the third-born wanted to say. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

“So, do you know why I called you here?”

“I can only assume you wanted to finish the job you started earlier, Leviathan,” Saeran said. It would be stupid to assume otherwise. Going forward, he was just going to assume that everybody wanted to kill him for their own reason. It didn't matter if they were going to claim otherwise, he was going to believe in his heart of hearts that they wanted murder first and talking second. “You were pissed enough to kill me, so it wouldn't be much of a surprise to hear that you still want to do it.”

“Huh, good guess. The truth is, I was planning on doing that until about a minute ago. Because I just can't stand for anyone else to be a bigger TSL fan than me, it's unacceptable! And what's worse, is that you're a human! It totally defies belief! To think that you could catch up to me—a demon— with what little time you’ve had compared to me!” He shook his head.

“And, if I took you out of the picture by getting rid of you, that would leave me as the only king of all TSL super fans, right? So, you get where I'm coming from when I say that, right? But, Lucifer would get really mad at me if I did that… and I guess I don’t want to lose to you again if we ever have to fight again like that… because until you went underneath my nose to win… it was… kind of… fun? Nobody ever wants to read or watch what I like. I know you probably only did it because you wanted my TSL record, but…”

“Even if that was a dirty trick, I guess it was the only thing you could do to get my attention. It kills me to say this, it really does, and my stomach feels like it's in knots right now because this isn’t something I do for any normie. But, you beat me. So, I guess I’ll make a pact with you. That was a part of my terms for the bet I made with Mammon. If you beat me, I’d have to give you my record to BORROW, and I will make a pact with you. That was our bet.”

Mammon did what?

When did he have time to make that deal? What did he even do to make Leviathan agree with that in the first place?

Saeran hadn’t made a bet with Leviathan like that, but apparently, Mammon went behind his back to make sure Saeran got what he needed either way. He had planned to rile Leviathan up so much that nothing could stop him from going on a quest of destruction. While his brothers had to spend all their time taking care of him, he would sneak back to the House of Lamentation and get what he needed for the time being, and then he would return it afterward.

He might have been a horrible human, but he wasn't the worst human out there.

He wasn't sure he wanted another pact mark on his body. But, if he recalled, a pact made a demon obey any order whatsoever no matter what it was. Any order would be taken care of. It didn't matter what it was or how hard it was to accomplish. That was the power he was given with the mark he traded away.

Even if the thought of having marks on his body made him feel incredibly sick to his stomach, the fact that he could order the demon in question to not kill him was something he couldn't disregard. That was the only selfish thing he could ever order if he so much as ordered it. This was Mammon’s way of trying to protect him, wasn’t it?

He would have to talk with him, for sure. He wasn't trying to get a pact with everyone and their brother.

What an idiot.

Leviathan eyed him curiously. “What? Why’re you making that face? I know that nobody in their right mind would ever want to make a pact with someone like me, but are you really going to turn down my offer? Do you want to die just so brutally that you’d turn me down, then? I don't get you at all, normie. First, you want to die, then you want to get under my skin to do Diavolo knows what with my records, and then you want to die again instead of making a pact? I don't think I'll ever understand you humans that aren't Otaku.”

“It’s not that,” Saeran said, plainly. He looked beyond Leviathan at the dark skies that lingered just out those doors to the planetarium. The sun he yearned to see wouldn't be out there if he did go out a door like that, but there were still open skies, stars, and clouds just within his reach. “I used to be consumed by your sin. Every day, afternoon, and night, the only thing I could feel was the agony of jealousy every step of the way. When you nearly took my head off, earlier, you reminded me of what that felt like and how much it hurt.”

Leviathan didn’t say anything. He had enough tact to listen to what the human wanted to tell him for once. It wasn't common for him to admit the things he felt, or even go this far, but for some reason, it was slipping out. Call him stupid, call him dumb, and call him an idiot for being willing to go this far in the first place, but he had no other choice but to walk forward.

“And, frankly, when you used me to get back at Mammon, it pissed me off. It made me angry enough that I just didn't care how much it would hurt you to make you feel what I felt. It's what I did before to other people, and I’ve done a lot of things I'm not proud of because I was so damn angry and jealous of what I couldn’t have. Considering how willing I was to do that again, I shouldn't be surprised at how willing you were to kill me. I can't say I know what it feels like to be the personification of envy, but I can say I know what you felt like today.”

This was the most honest truth he'd given someone in a while. He couldn't believe he was even saying this much, but he needed to get it off his chest. “I intended to hurt you so I could get what I wanted, I think we both understand that. But, I regret doing it because I remember what it felt like to be lonely and miserable with nothing but your insecurities eating away at you. Don't take this the wrong way, I don't think we're friends now, either. But, I owe you an apology for playing the way I did. I get that it means a lot to you, now. So, I’m sorry.”

“...You really are a weird human, Saeran,” Leviathan said, thrusting the record into Saeran’s arms before he turned away. “You'd better give it back when you're done, is that clear? If you touch it, make sure to wipe off any fingerprints you leave behind. And, no eating potato chips and stuff like that when you’re handling it. It's super, super rare, so you'd better not lose any of the inserts or the sleeve or anything! I think I made myself clear.”

“Crystal.”

If there was one good thing about Leviathan, it seemed as though he was awkward as Saeran was when it came to honesty and genuine emotions. At the very least, that meant that they wouldn't have to talk about this further than they already had, and that was fine by Saeran. He got the worst of those feelings off his chest and he didn't have to worry about any questions about it.

“I guess you aren’t too bad for a human,” Leviathan muttered under his breath. He took a few steps closer to Saeran and gave him another look. “A deal’s a deal. I’ll give you your pact. Just don’t ask me for anything weird, got it?”

Saeran stared at him. “Don’t try to kill me again and I won’t ask you for anything. How’s that for a deal?”

Leviathan’s expression dropped as the blood left his face. “Hahaha… the way your guard dog is glaring at me from the doorway tells me all I need to know right now! That’s a fair trade to me! Anyway, let’s get this pact taken care of before Lucifer comes and skins us alive. Pact or not, we’ll all be dead if that happens.”

Similar to the feeling as last time, the infernal magic that ran through his veins the second Leviathan started to whisper in demonic tongue, he could sense it. Perhaps, it was just obvious because this time around it was his second rodeo, but it flooded his body just the same as Mammon’s magic had. This time, however, it wasn’t the same buzzing warmth he felt with Mammon. No, this time, it was more like he dived headfirst into a swimming pool and he forgot how to swim.

He couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine.

Leviathan’s magic was as cold as the oceans he belonged to. The sea monster that everyone feared since the dawn of time and the passage of the sea by mankind.

The magic crept around his body much like a slithering serpent until it settled in his wrist. By the time Leviathan pulled away, Saeran felt woozy, but it wasn’t as bad as before. He looked down at his hand to see the glowing mark as it shimmered the same orange as Leviathan’s eyes. It looked no different than a hook. It was unlike the mark on his neck that looked more like the glowing radiance of the sunshine he missed every day.

This pact was different from his first one, but something about talking through his dread had made it feel less taxing. However, his year of surviving the Devildom was far from over.

[Art Reference: @/youreallyknowo &@/pepsibg041]

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