Demon Lord, Retry! Volume 3

by Kurone Kanzaki

  “Peasant... What did you do?”

  “Hrgh... M-My face...!?”

  “Have you not enough intelligence to understand my question?”

  Kunai increased the pressure. With a sound that seemed too bizarre to come from a human body, the mugger’s face became disfigured down to the bone, as if his head was a ball of putty. Kunai’s almost elegant fingers tore through the mugger’s skin, muscle, and skull.

  “M-Magic... A... water... spegh!”

  Without a word, Kunai swung his arm, smashing the mugger against the wall. He splattered with a strange crunch and painted his surroundings with his blood. The mugger, now lifelessly strewn about on the floor, seemed more like a dummy than anything.

  “Magic. This is an annoying world.”

  “H-Help...”

  The other mugger was flat on his ass, trying to crawl away backwards. Soon, his back hit a wall, leaving him with nowhere to run. Kunai turned to the surviving mugger and approached him step by step. Kunai’s expression was that of someone observing a strange creature, or studying the behavior of an insect.

  “I will... never... I’ll give you my money. All of it...!”

  “Peasants always repeat the same mistakes.”

  “What?”

  A small ray of hope illuminated the mugger’s expression. Kunai’s tone was terribly calm, without a hint of an intention to kill him. The mugger thought that perhaps the man wanted something else from it, whether it be information or something monetary. The correct answer, however, was neither.

  “When you beg for your life, make sure your opponent has any capacity for mercy...”

  Kunai raised his foot and stomped his heel straight into the mugger’s face. His head went flying as it sprayed all sorts of fluids, painting another red stain on the wall. Looking around at the three carcasses in the room, Kunai grumbled, “this idiotic creator... I need better entertainment than this.”

  With that, Kunai looked down at the ring on his right hand. The ring showed a gauge that seemed to be filled with blood, which decreased over time. After checking this gauge, Kunai wore an uncharacteristic smile.

  “Well, he is causing a certain kind of chaos... Ha ha ha...”

  With the red light trailing from his eyes, Kunai went to the level below.

  ——Bastille Dungeon, level 11.

  “Fuck that bastard... Acting like he owns this body.”

  The Demon Lord lit a cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. Losing control of himself came with an extreme sense of disgust.

  “Killing people left and right...”

  As if he were stomping on bugs. That was not combat. On the bottom of his foot, the Demon Lord could still feel the vivid sensation of trampling and crushing the mugger’s face. Recognizing the SP he was wasting, he still produced a Bottle of Water and rinsed off the sole of his shoe.

  (But... this is weird. Why am I so calm?)

  It was the same way back in the Shrine of Wishes where he had met the Still Angel. There were countless dead bodies there, too, with an unbearable stench leaking from the organs strewn out on the ground. He had observed that sight as if he had seen it many times before.

  (I’m used to seeing dead bodies...? That’s ridiculous.)

  The Demon Lord’s seed of doubt only grew, though. In an attempt to check something, he returned to the level above and was dumbfounded.

  (The bodies... are gone...!)

  The red stains that looked painted on, the headless body... all of them were gone, as if they had never existed at all. Mikan’s casual comment came to mind.

  They disappear after a while.

  He remembered that dead monsters disappeared after a period of time. However, he didn’t pick up on any implication that this would be the same with humans. At the same time, his clothes with infinite Durability began repairing themselves, reversing the hole in his thigh like nothing ever happened. Like it was all just a dream.

  “Freaking creepy...!?”

  A vision came to him in a powerful flash. In an instant, he was standing in the middle of Shibuya, as he remembered it to be. With bustling crosswalks, and skyscrapers that epitomized the pinnacle of human evolution. Then, his vision gradually lost color as the skyscrapers came crumbling down. Before he knew it, countless cracks ran through the asphalt, as thousands of people fell to the ground. Rotten corpses walked around him and pitch-black crow-like birds flew above him.

  (What the hell...!?)

  The Demon Lord shook his head as if to shake off the terrible sight and lit a cigarette, shaking. As he inhaled the Stamina-healing smoke, his head gradually cleared up.

  (This thing...)

  The Demon Lord looked down at the accursed ring. When his body was taken control of by Kunai, he felt a powerful source of willpower from the ring, as well as the effects of it.

  (The ring wants me to bring chaos and destruction to this world. Do that, and my wish comes true.)

  For the time being, he could conclude that this was the will of the Still Angel. Through this ring, Kunai seemed to be searching for something.

  (You think I’m going to let you walk all over me...!?)

  The irritated Demon Lord slowly regained his undaunted expression. A million choices came to mind.

  “I’m going to be the only one getting his wish granted around here...”

  Whispering that into the empty air, the Demon Lord headed further down into the dungeon.

  The Bastille Dungeon Level 12~15

  “So this is the prison they were talking about.”

  The Demon Lord was facing a prison-cell-like space with metal bars. That being said, the metal bars were rusted and deteriorated here and there, so the space could no longer serve its purpose. Even just a quick glance told the Demon Lord that the cell was created a long time ago.

  “They just dug into the wall and installed metal bars... Pretty archaic.”

  He curiously inspected the space all over by knocking on the bars and running his hand along the wall, but there didn’t seem to be anything noteworthy. The Demon Lord was almost expecting the stereotypical human skeleton, but the cell was very clean, to his disappointment.

  (It’s like someone cleans it regularly. Now that I think about it, the whole dungeon is too clean.)

  Despite the heavy traffic, there wasn’t a single piece of trash around. This wasn’t a tourist destination, but a battlefield of life and death — it would not have been strange for him to see chipped blades, blood marks, or even a body part. The Demon Lord couldn’t help but think that someone was managing the dungeon. Like a high-end apartment complex, someone had to do upkeep to keep it this neat.

  (If so... Who’s doing the job? It’s like there’s a band of uber-powerful janitors...) the Demon Lord contemplated as he roundhouse kicked the monster charging towards him. The monster crashed through the metal bars behind him to neatly end up in the cell. As far as he could tell, the bars were ordinary metal, nothing special about them.

  “This was a prison back in the day. No doubt about that. And there’s someone still keeping up the place.”

  At this point, the Demon Lord cracked a joyful grin. His curiosity was definitely piqued. Yukikaze had told him that the dungeon went down 20 levels, but that there was nothing special down there. Just a dead-end, and no one of this world questioned it. This was just another office for the adventurers, after all. Not somewhere they would be seeking to fulfill their curiosity. It was a more grounded place that decided whether or not they could put food on the table. No one else here had the luxury of dungeon-crawling for a hobby.

  “Now I have to know more about the groundskeeper.”

  The Demon Lord took the stairs further down. There were almost no adventurers who came down this far, preserving the silence around him. As the Demon Lord advanced to level 15 demolishing monsters all the while, his sharp glance spotted something dimly illuminated. A small wooden box. Inside was something the Demon Lord had seen before, but was too bizarre to be in this world.
>
  “You’re kidding me... Is this a gun...?”

  The Demon Lord stared as if to burn a hole into the gun-like object in the box. Then he poked it with his finger. He was acting like a teenage girl scared of something she had never seen before. He would have blushed in embarrassment if anyone had seen him.

  “I better have Tahara take a look at this...”

  When it came to guns, Tahara could do no wrong. With that in mind, the Demon Lord stowed the gun (still in the box) away in his Item Folder. Tahara was already handling everything back in the village, but he was just the best man for the job. The Demon Lord, on the other hand, was at his best in ruling, combat, and scheming.

  “I guess I’ll head back to the inn for now.”

  Using Quick Travel, he returned to his room at the cheap inn. While Quick Travel was already broken for its cost of 30SP for any jump regardless of distance, it bordered on ridiculous that he could use it to escape a dungeon as well. While the skill couldn’t be used mid-combat, it was more of a miracle than a magic spell when it came to how much of a time-saver it was. When the Demon Lord returned to his room, and hung up his pitch-black trench coat, he noticed a strange lump in his bed. He peeled back the comforter to find Yukikaze fast asleep in her cute pajamas. For a few moments, the Demon Lord’s thoughts (and body) froze.

  “Why are you in my room?”

  Yukikaze didn’t answer. She was fast asleep.

  “Wait, how did you get in in the first place?”

  “...Come inside? Mister Fox, you want to— hrm?”

  “Suck on this.”

  He threw a piece of candy into Yukikaze’s mouth as she woke, reacting to a particular keyword. It was an art form at this point. Rolling the candy in her mouth, Yukikaze gently sighed.

  “...I bribed the innkeeper to open the door with the master key.”

  Her confession, though, was less gentle than the Demon Lord had expected. He covered his head with his hands, trying to push back down the encroaching migraine. First the muggers in the dungeon, and now this little trespasser.

  “Is there no order in this world...?”

  The Demon Lord grumbled, but he was in no place to talk. Considering how much of a mess he put Holylight in, trespassing into his bed was a misdemeanor at worst.

  “...Mister Fox. That pirate game, it was a really fun toy.”

  “Good to hear. It’s a traditional party favorite.”

  Of course, that was another useless item with 1 Attack, but it served its entertainment purpose just fine. According to Yukikaze, the adventurers were having a blast betting pocket change on it. There were heated games taking place in the lobby as they spoke.

  “Hm. May as well give it a try. It’s been a while.”

  “...Mister Fox, if you’re going to give anything a try— hrm?”

  “Suck on that.”

  “...It hurts so bad, but it tastes so good.”

  After another round of their routine, the Demon Lord went down to the lobby. He could hear excited voices from below, as a large number of participants seemed to be playing with the game. It was a classic table-top game for a reason.

  “Alright! I win! Now that’s three bronze coins each. Pay up!”

  “Dammit! This red girl’s too good!”

  “This stupid beard-face!”

  “One little jab and out he pops...!”

  As the adventurers cursed out loud, Mikan gleefully scooped up the bronze coins thrown onto the table. While this amount of money was only pocket change for her, Mikan was beaming as bright as the sun. Like any good adventurer, she seemed to enjoy gambling as well as winning. She was gambling with her life every day, after all.

  “Looks like we got ourselves a party.”

  With a dauntless smile, the Demon Lord approached the table that hosted the game in the center of the hall. The adventurers naturally parted the way for him. Mikan alone awaited the Demon Lord with her arms crossed. Her shapely breasts, slender waist, long legs, and sharp eyes all gave her a beauty like that of a wild panther.

  “Oh, you’re ready to give me more money?”

  “I like to play the house, mostly. I don’t prefer games of chance.”

  “Making excuses already? What, you’re afraid?”

  “That’s a cheap attempt at an insult...”

  With that, the Demon Lord grabbed the pirate and placed it back into the barrel. He then grabbed one of the small swords — nostalgia in his eyes — and stuck it into a hole in the barrel. Seeing this, Mikan grew an aggressive grin. After having played all day, she seemed confident that she would win. She picked another sword and moved to stab it into the barrel, but then the Demon Lord spoke:

  “If you’re challenging me, I need an ante.”

  “How much? Oh, here’s the change from yesterday first.”

  Mikan tossed a leather bag. She didn’t end up using up the gold medallion. She had only used two silver coins, leaving about $20,000 worth of coins in the bag. The Demon Lord took it and let the contents rain down onto the table.

  “T-Those are gold coins!”

  “Look at all that silver... They’re so bright!”

  The adventurers in the lobby were all rookies staying at this cheap inn. The silver and gold on the table shone much too bright for them. Even Mikan, a B-rank adventurer with a record of making 880 gold coins in a month, couldn’t help but swallow her breath at this small fortune.

  “What do you think you’re doing...?”

  “If you best me, all of this is yours. If you lose, though...”

  “If I lose...?”

  Everyone’s eyes turned to the Demon Lord. None of them were going to miss a single word he said or a single move he made. After a generous pause, he declared ceremoniously:

  “Let’s see. You can be my obedient pet for a day.”

  “What...!?”

  “Would you prefer cat or dog? A rabbit would be fine, too. Of course, you’ll have to end each sentence with ‘meow,’ ‘ruff,’ or ‘hippity hoppity.’”

  “I’d rather die!” Mikan screamed with a beet-red face and stuck a sword in the barrel. Without hesitation, the Demon Lord followed suit. After a few back-and-forths, Mikan began to spend more time thinking before each move. On the other hand, the Demon Lord still did not hesitate, as if his glare pierced through everything.

  “What’s the matter? Frozen with fear, little tangerine?”

  “Shut up!”

  As Mikan grew more irritated, the adventurers around them either gasped or fell silent each time a sword was stuck into the barrel. On the table before them was a pile of coins that amounted to more money than any of them had ever dreamed of earning at one time.

  “...Here!”

  As Mikan struck the barrel with razor-shape determination, the pirate went soaring up in the air. The cheers and screams came to an abrupt halt as gloom filled Mikan’s expression. As more voices and cheers refilled the lobby, the Demon Lord smiled elegantly.

  “In war, more often than not, the victor is already decided before the first battle begins.”

  With this grandiose line, Mikan couldn’t help but collapse onto the table. In fact, the fate of this battle was already set before it began — the hole that popped the pirate was determined by how the pirate was twisted into the barrel. Mikan and the other adventurers had never noticed this mechanism, as they weren’t paying attention while they reset the game.

  “Tonight’s a party. I’ll take one for the team to keep it going.”

  The Demon Lord shoved the coins from the table into the leather bag and tossed it to the innkeeper.

  “Go buy some booze, food, fruits, whatever you can think of. Make sure you use it all up.”

  “Use... A-All of this, sir?”

  “Every last coin. Also, don’t let anyone into my room again.”

  “Y-Yes, sir...!”

  Jittering like a grasshopper, the innkeeper bounced out into the street, and cheers erupted in the lobby of this cheap inn once again. For the rookies,
who always made do with the gnarly products of the food stands on the street, this was quite the VIP treatment. Perhaps the Demon Lord tried to copy the paladin in an attempt to garner a positive reputation. Or perhaps he had just enjoyed a round of the nostalgic party game. As he watched the adventurers in jubilee, he recalled a line he had spat out before which didn’t mean anything to him then.

  (Going in a separate path as the Empire, huh...?)

  He had only said it as a desperate justification to his advisors. But now that he knew who was behind his ring, it carried a different meaning to him. Kunai was trying to accomplish something through that ring on his finger.

  (Maybe I’ll go back to the village just once.)

  There was still a mountain of things to do and think about, like the gun-like object he obtained, what to do with Dona Dona or Xenobia, or even just the progress of construction in the village. The Demon Lord nearly began a Communication with Tahara, but reconsidered who to dial. A particular girl’s face came to his mind.

  Aku. Where are you now?

  Master Demon Lord! I was just helping with fieldwork!

  All right. I’ll be back at the village shortly.

  Really!? I’ll be right there to welcome you back!

  After closing the Communication, the Demon Lord turned to Mikan, still sulking into the table.

  “Mikan, I’m headed out for a bit. I’ll be back by morning. You should start practicing your tail-wagging now.”

  “Then stay out!”

  For the first time in a while, the Demon Lord would return to the village.

  Divergence: Black Hole

  Akira Ono was walking down a long hallway on the top floor of a skyscraper. Any Japanese person would have recognized the names of the major corporations who held offices here. The hallway was long, and Akira had a terrible spell of dizziness. He couldn’t even tell if he was walking straight or in circles; even his vision was blurred. As he was hit with a sudden rush of nausea, Akira started for the bathroom with faltering feet, but even this walk seemed terribly long.