It had been two weeks since Mira arrived in the Demon Realm.

  Two whole weeks.

  Which, according to demon standards, meant either a peaceful miracle or the calm before something incredibly stupid happens.

  So far, it had been… peaceful.

  The fields in Zone 3 were greener now. Not potato-exploding-green, just a respectable, honest green. Demons had learned not to stomp crops, mostly because the announcement system would immediately shame them into the next century. Cooking smoke rose from stone chimneys where potatoes were boiled, fried, mashed, or respectfully stared at before being eaten.

  And Mira?

  She blended in... Too well.

  She walked through the market with her hands still cuffed. Demons greeted her. Some asked her how to sharpen tools. Others asked if humans really ate soup without potatoes.

  A child demon once tugged her sleeve and asked if humans slept standing up like horses.

  She answered all of it. Calm. Easygoing. Occasionally sarcastic.

  And somehow, without me noticing when it happened, Mira became… normal here. Which was a problem. Because normal things were dangerous.

  Especially when they involved feelings.

  Today was supposed to be simple. I was inspecting repaired farming tools near the edge of Zone 3. Mira was with me, guards at a polite distance, Sparky somewhere behind us pretending not to eavesdrop while absolutely eavesdropping.

  The sun in the Demon Realm was lower than the human one—wider, redder, dramatic for no reason. The wind carried dirt, smoke, and the faint smell of fried potatoes.

  Mira knelt beside a crate of rusted metal parts, examining them.

  “You’re holding it wrong,” she said.

  “I am holding it regally,” I replied.

  She snorted, then adjusted my grip on the hammer without asking. Her fingers brushed mine—accidental, quick, harmless.

  [Announcement: The Demon Lord’s Heart Rate Has Increased.]

  I froze.

  “Ignore that,” I muttered.

  Mira smiled.

  That was also dangerous.

  We worked in silence for a bit. Or rather, I worked, and Mira occasionally corrected me like a patient teacher who had accepted that her student was a lost cause.

  Then she spoke again.

  “Do you remember who you were before becoming the Demon Lord?”

  I paused.

  Ah... That question.

  “I don’t,” I said lightly. “Probably someone important. Or dramatic. Or both...”

  She didn’t ugh. She watched me carefully, like she was measuring the truth of my answer by my breathing.

  “Nothing at all...? Not even a dream?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Just fragments. No face. No name. No tragic backstory speech.”

  She smiled again—but it didn’t reach her eyes this time.

  “You really don’t act like any demon I’ve heard of,” she said quietly.

  “That’s because human fairy tales are terrible,” I said. “They think demons eat babies.”

  She hesitated.

  “Some of them do,” she admitted.

  I winced. “Okay, some demons eat babies. But not most. And usually it’s metaphorical.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “You’re more human,” she continued. “The way you talk. The way you hesitate. The way you apologize. The way you live...”

  I stopped working.

  “Look around you,” I said, gesturing to the fields, the demons passing by, the ughter near the cooking fires. “These are demons too. Not the ones from your stories.”

  She followed my gaze.

  Her jaw tightened.

  “My memories won’t betray me,” she said. “Demons attacked my vilge. They killed... my parents.”

  The words nded quietly.

  “I’m… sorry,” I said.

  She turned sharply. “Why?”

  “Because it happened,” I said. “And because I’m the Demon Lord now.”

  She stared at me.

  “You’re apologizing for demons you didn't know?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Peace rarely does,” I replied.

  She looked away.

  “Why are you like this?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But tell me something, Mira. Don’t you want a peaceful life?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. No answer came.

  We walked after that.

  Not toward the fields. Not toward the market.

  Just… walked.

  Somehow, without either of us pnning it, we ended up near the edge of Zone 3, where the nd sloped downward and the wind was cooler.

  The sky was deep crimson now, fading into purple. It felt like a date. Which was ridiculous.

  I was a Demon Lord.

  She was a human prisoner.

  [Announcement: The Demon Lord Is Accidentally on a Romantic Date.]

  “I am going to burn this system one day,” I muttered.

  Mira tilted her head. “Did it say romantic date?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “Shut up.”

  She ughed.

  That ugh again...

  She sat on a broken stone wall. I sat beside her, carefully, leaving a respectful amount of space that somehow felt more intimate than closeness.

  “So,” she said, tilting her head, “if you don’t remember your past… do you ever wonder if you were human?”

  “No,” I answered too quickly.

  Her eyebrow lifted.

  She leaned a little closer, eyes narrowing in curiosity. “You really resemble one.”

  “That’s rude,” I said ftly. “I have horns.”

  “Tiny ones.”

  “They’re average.”

  She smirked. “Sure.”

  Then she added pyfully, “I wonder if you were a girl or a boy if you were human. You’re kind of… genderless right now.”

  “That doesn’t really matter,” I said, brushing it off.

  For a brief moment, her expression faltered—sad, almost. Or maybe that was just my imagination running wild.

  Then she ughed. “I was thinking you act more like a baby girl.”

  “Baby? Me?” I sighed, convinced again that I’d overthought it.

  Her ughter faded, and she grew serious. “If you were human once,” she said softly, “would you choose them over demons?”

  I didn’t answer right away.

  “I am Demon Lord now. I would choose this,” I said at st. “This pce. These demons. This peace.”

  She studied my face carefully.

  “You’re really not lying, are you?”

  “No,” I replied. “I never lie.”

  That was when the ground shook.

  A sharp tremor.

  [Emergency Announcement: Hostile Demon Activity Detected in Zone 3.]

  Mira stiffened.

  I was on my feet instantly. “Stay behind me.”

  Her jaw tightened.

  “Behind me,” I repeated, sharper this time.

  Footsteps echoed from the slope ahead.

  One... Two... Three...

  Ten demons emerged from the ruins.

  Armed. Armored. Horns jagged. Eyes burning with open contempt.

  Rebel demons.

  “So this is Zone 3 now,” one of them sneered. “A farm.”

  Another ughed. “Look at you, Getgun. Pying house with potatoes instead of sharpening your cws.”

  My chest tightened.

  They noticed Mira.

  Silence fell for half a second.

  Then smirks spread, “A human,” one said zily. “So the rumors were true.”

  “You really have fallen,” another added. “Teaching trash to build tools. Letting a human walk free. What a shame.”

  “Step away from her,” I ordered.

  They ughed.

  “You protect humans now?” the tallest one mocked. “Is that why you chant dirt instead of battle spells?”

  I clenched my fists. “I want peace between demons and humans.”

  The ughter exploded.

  “Peace my ass,” one spat. “You don’t even have the nature of a demon!”

  Another leaned forward. “We waited weeks for this. Kill the human. Then we’ll decide what to do with you, my LORD.”

  “Sparky!” I shouted.

  Sparky and two guards burst from the lower ridge, weapons drawn.

  “MY LORD!” Sparky yelled. “Rebels—ten of them!”

  “We see them,” I snapped.

  The guards formed up, but it was obvious. We were outnumbered.

  The rebels ughed again.

  “Ah, Sparky the dog,” one mocked. “Still babysitting this failure?”

  Sparky snarled. “Take another step and I’ll—”

  Two rebels rushed her.

  Steel cshed. Sparks flew. The guards engaged, barely holding the line.

  “Mira,” I said urgently. “Run. Now.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Don’t order me,” she said ftly.

  A rebel slipped past the guards, fast, too fast... straight toward her.

  I raised my hand, chanting desperately. "Grow, you potatoes! Rise!"

  [Grow, you potatoes! Rise! Skill Activated!]

  Potatoes erupted from the ground, flying like cannonballs.

  But it missed, they dodged effortlessly.

  The rebel grinned, bde raised. “Humans die first.”

  Steel fshed.

  A knife glowed.

  Mira moved. Her cuffed hands twisted just enough with one clean motion. Her knife drove straight into the demon’s skull.

  Crack.

  He dropped instantly and dead before he hit the ground.

  The battlefield froze.

  So did I.

  Mira stood there, breathing hard, shoulders squared. Her eyes glowed faintly.

  “Don’t touch me, filthy demons.” she said coldly.

  The remaining rebels staggered back.

  Sparky stared. “M-My Lord…?”

  The guards faltered.

  The rebels hissed. “A... hero...?” one snarled.

  Mira didn’t deny it. She only tightened her grip.

  The rebels retreated, dragging their wounded.

  [Announcement: A Demon Has Been Killed by a Human. Zone 3 Alerted!]

  I gasped.

  This… would make chaos. They’ll misunderstand everything.

  I turned slowly. “Mira,” I said. “Who are you...?”

  She didn’t look at me.

  “I told you,” she said quietly. “I was trained to kill demons.”

  The words hit harder than the bde.

  She finally met my eyes.