Amon had been glued to the bed for two days straight. He hadn't even bothered standing up. Why would he, when he already had everything he needed in his arms? His "wife."
He hugged the pillow tighter, kissed it softly, and let out a blissful sigh. Life was perfect. Except for the food. Food was still absolute, irredeemable garbage.
And the food in the waking world wasn't much better. The so-called "luxurious" stuff gave him a headache, too.
Maybe his generation really was messed up enough to nuke the entire planet. Like, bruh… at least leave something so normal food could exist. Not just freaking synthpaste. Sure, Kido's fruits and vegetables were delicious, but Amon still missed his kitchen.
Luna wasn't much of a cook anyway. The meals she'd made back in the outskirts said enough. Honestly, Amon could cook rat better than she could handle chicken.
But jokes aside… why did he suddenly feel chills crawling down his spine?
"Eh? Aghh, fuck!" he shouted in disbelief and anger as he was thrown out of the bed.
"What the hell was that?!"
Groaning, he looked up, only to see Luna staring coldly at him. Then her gaze shifted to the pillow… and her expression turned jealous.
Amon looked down with a grimace. What the fuck…
Luna had the exact same thought. What the fuck…
She bit the inside of her cheek, huffing like a boiling kettle. Blyat...Why is that bastard showing more warmth to a pillow and a toilet than me!? What's wrong with him?!
Amon sighed, shaking his head. Can't even sleep in peace. It's all her dumb friends from the past making her paranoid. Blyat… fuck this shit.
Clicking his tongue, he stood up and started changing under Luna's burning stare. Sure, he had his Memories, but those artifacts weren't exactly comfortable down there. Man needed barricades if his bloodline was gonna survive.
Luna crossed her arms, watching him slip into some aristocratic-looking clothes, clearly looted from some ruin. Dark city? Bright castle? Who even cared anymore.
But before she could stew any longer, Amon pulled something from Fraud's Bag and tossed it at her. She caught the fabric automatically with frown, then her eyes went wide.
Dresses? Not just any dresses. Her favorite designs.
And the one on top… oh, it was perfection. A medieval-style vintage evening gown in deep emerald green satin. The bodice hugged tight, flowing into a sweeping floor-length skirt with regal weight. Lace traced the neckline in an elegant curve.
But the sleeves... Oh, the sleeves! Voluminous, tied at the elbow, trimmed with lace that breathed romance.
Luna's irritation evaporated like smoke in a gale. Her eyes sparkled with elation. Luna already imagined herself in it; she would look like a noblewoman.
Amon glanced at her and smiled, shaking his head in amusement. Heh, works every time.
Some could even say Amon was a professional when it came to smoothing things over with Luna. He'd learned long ago that every argument with her ended in one way: his loss. So instead of fighting battles he couldn't win, he adapted, outsmarted and evolved.
His strategy was simple: don't argue, distract. Before the storm could even start, he'd pull something shiny from his bag of tricks. A car, a bike, jewelry, cash... Hell, even a whole damn cow if it would make her stop glaring at him. Whatever it took to dodge a full-scale war.
But Amon wasn't totally helpless either. He had survival protocols. Rule number one: if he slipped and called her a bitch mid-argument, then he was dead. Game over. So calmness was crucial. Rule number two: if calmness failed and he was in the wrong, slam the door hard enough to rattle the foundations, then disappear. Either to his friends' place or into a haze of alcohol.
And if it came to the last option… Let's say, things escalated fast. Tires slashed, car windows shattered. Dresses set on fire, jewelry drowned in the toilet. Sometimes even dogshit mysteriously appearing in handbags.
Shit, Amon thought, watching Luna twirl happily with her new dresses. Why is life so tragic and hard…
While Luna admired the fabric with sparkling eyes, Amon shed a single tear.
Luna knew exactly what Amon was doing with his gifts, but she didn't care. She hadn't even been that angry in the first place. The problem was, Amon had somehow gaslighted himself into believing he needed gifts to resolve every conflict. Once Luna realized that, she simply started feigning anger because it always ended with her holding something new in her hands. Heh, Amon really was dumb sometimes.
Amon, of course, knew Luna wasn't always actually angry. But at this point? He didn't care either. Victory and defeat were irrelevant. What mattered were gains and losses. And for Amon, peaceful silence was gain enough. Goat Yuan was always there for him, guiding him through every crisis. He almost teared up from sheer gratitude.
Not to mention… even Mahoraga wouldn't be able to adapt to that kind of bullshit, so he figured he was fine.
After that, Amon glanced at himself in the mirror and smiled in satisfaction. He really did look like an aristocrat. Sure, he hadn't managed to become a duke in his first Nightmare… but once Medici built his own empire, Amon was definitely getting that title.
After messing around with his loot, Amon finally shoved everything he liked back into Fraud's Bag and switched into his usual assassin's robes. Then he pulled out a stack of soul shards and stared down at them grimly.
His fingers twitched. His heartbeat thundered in his chest.
It was time. Time to become a Demon.
He'd postponed forming his third core long enough, paralyzed by the fear gnawing at him. And yeah, he was still scared shitless. But what choice did he have? He needed every edge, every scrap of power he could get. …Well, not every scrap. He'd hidden away enough shards to fund his clan and cash in with the government for a mountain of points.
Across the room, Medici lounged with a blissful smile, watching him like a creep enjoying a live horror show.
"Fuckin' traitor," Amon muttered under his breath. Be glad I'm not about to crash out like Eren.
Forcing himself to breathe evenly, he steadied his shaking hands and glanced at his runes.
Soul Fragments: [1994/2000]
Just three Awakened soul shard until saturation. Just six more fragments, and his monster core would saturate, pushing him straight into forming his Demon Core.
"Haaa…" Amon exhaled like a man being marched to the gallows. Luna and Medici were already holding back laughter.
"Seriously, guys? I'm just not masochist like you two psychos."
Luna leaned down, kissed the tip of his nose, and purred: "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, love."
Amon ground his teeth. Ragebait of that level doesn't work on me, woman…
"Alright. Let's do it exactly how I told you."
Medici tied his hair back, chuckling. "Fine. But I never thought I'd see someone go this far just to dodge the pain of forming a core. You really will do anything to escape pain and responsibility."
"Damn right," Amon muttered, gulping down his fear as sweat beaded on his brow. Then he crushed the shards one by one, devouring the fragments into himself.
The Spell's cold whisper slithered through his mind:
[Your Soul Is Overflowing With Power…]
[Your Soul Is Obscured By Mysteries…]
And then, before the agonizing pain of forming the core could even start, Medici smirked and punched him square in the face.
Amon went out cold instantly.
Yes, Amon would really go that far to avoid pain. At least now he was unconscious and wouldn't feel anything. As for the tooth he lost… Luna would help him regrow it, so it was fine.
But even unconscious, his body twitched and spasmed violently. Luna sighed, crouching beside him to make sure he didn't hurt himself on the cold floor. With a faint, almost imperceptible motion, she activated her ability to ease his suffering.
Luna's mastery of flesh and blood magic was unparalleled. She could manipulate her own cells with ease, and her knowledge of biology amplified her precision. Manipulating someone else's was trickier, mystical soul essence tends to reject foreign energies but since Amon was unconscious, his defenses weren't active. And, crucially, she wasn't harming him, so his essence didn't push back.
She started small, subtly influencing his nerve endings and blood vessels to dampen the pain signals. Then, delicately, she adjusted his body chemistry, boosting endorphins, regulating hormones and making the inevitable agony far more bearable.
It wasn't perfect. He still thrashed a little, but far less than he would have. Even unconscious, Luna's faint frown betrayed her annoyance at seeing him suffer because, for all his antics, she couldn't quite stand watching him in pain.
Closing her eyes for a moment, Luna took a seat while Medici punched him again as he was waking up. For some reason, Medici had the happiest smile on his face while doing so and for some reason, he kept punching him even after he'd been knocked out again.
After letting out a satisfied sigh, Medici flopped onto the bed. This was a really great day. Amon's face was extremely punchable, after all and he deserved it. Spreading rumors that Medici was gay? That definitely counted as revenge. Medici was still pissed; some guy had come up to him making a confession, and he'd almost burned the fool to ashes.
But well, the past was the past, and between homies, it was acceptable so whatever. These two had been abusing each other ever since they'd met two years ago in the outskirts and discovered that both were transmigrators. Maybe it was fate, who knows?
After some time, Amon's eyes snapped open. He sat up abruptly, breathing heavily. Before he could say anything, he noticed blood flowing from his nose and lip. His nose was broken too, and there were three teeth lying beside him. The fuck?
Luckily, Luna was a healer, so Amon was as good as new after a few minutes. Phew… at least I avoided that fucked-up pain and survived. That alone soothed his heart.
After some time, Luna left to see her bloodsisters, leaving Medici and Amon behind. The two of them just lay on the bed, doing nothing for a while, before starting to hit each other with pillows.
Soon, what began as a funny pillow fight turned brutal as they escalated to fists but they quickly stopped once they noticed the room was in ruins.
Medici glanced at him, a little embarrassed and awkward about the question he was about to ask.
"So… how do you do it?"
"Do what, man?" Amon asked immediately.
"Sex, I mean…" Medici admitted, blushing slightly.
Amon's mouth twitched, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Elaborate, senior brother," he said without hesitation.
Medici gritted his teeth and looked down, ashamed. This is way too embarrassing!
"I mean… how do you actually do it? Don't you get nervous? What do girls like while doing it? And also… is it better if the size is too big or just normal? I know small isn't…"
Amon stared at him blankly for a moment before his mouth involuntarily curled into a barely restrained laugh.
"Fine, fine… okay. First question: it depends on who you're with."
Medici frowned, confused. Noticing his expression, Amon continued with a sigh.
"If she's a virgin, be slower and gentler or she'll hate you. From what I've seen, it's painful as hell. Same goes for petite women, you have to understand you're bigger than most. And…" He glanced down at Medici and sighed. "Your little friend seems… quite big. So just be considerate. It's not outrageously big, which is good."
Medici nodded and started taking notes, which made Amon's eyes widen in disbelief. Then Medici looked up, innocently asking the question that made Amon even more awkward.
"But I've heard… bigger is better. Isn't that right?"
Amon finally lost it and burst into laughter. Masculinity my ass… this guy's a fraud. Of course, laughing and teasing your bro was always satisfying.
"No, bruh. Where did you hear that? It's painful and uncomfortable! It's not even realistic. Do you think a vagina is a bucket or something?"
Medici nodded in understanding. That made sense. Now there was another topic he wanted to ask about.
"What about inexperience? Isn't it embarrassing when you get nervous in bed? Like, come on, bro… it's shitty as hell."
Amon frowned. Well… he'd never really thought about that. This was something new.
"To be honest, I don't know and I never really cared about it. I think it depends on the woman's preference. Some might like experienced guys, some inexperienced. I've even heard some like virgins… though those ones are kinda messed up sometimes, so I don't really know. As for nervousness… I don't know."
"You don't?" Medici asked in surprise, making Amon grimace. What does he think I am? Some kind of sex sage? The fuck?
"Listen… some women might find it cute. And don't worry about it. It's normal for both parties to be nervous the first time. I know it's more about being nervous about not satisfying your partner, right? My first time was with Luna, and we were both virgins, so it wasn't that awkward. Luna was understanding and apparently thought I was cute for some reason. Anyway, the point is: be honest, man. It's fine to be nervous, just don't fuck things up. It gets frustrating if you freeze and can't do shit because of anxiety."
Amon sighed, shaking his head as he stood up.
"Anyway… I didn't care much about sex after, like, three or four times. I'm not exactly like that. It's more like a drug, the more you do it, the less pleasure you get, at least that's how it is for me. I just go with the flow most of the time. And I've only been with Luna, so I'm not exactly the best source of advice."
He paused. His eyes widened, his mouth twitched… and then it spread into that mischievous, wide grin of his.
"Wait a second… Don't tell me…"
Medici appeared behind him with a grin and gave him a casual thumbs-up.
Amon blinked, dumbfounded… but well, okay. At least sex relieved some stress. That was something, he guessed.
Medici left with his notes, leaving Amon alone.
Slowly, Amon pulled out a small box, a tiny mouth and tongue rolling out of it, almost like it had a personality of its own. His grin widened as he activated its enhancement.
"I mean… how do you actually do it? Don't you get nervous? What do girls like while doing it? And also… is it better if the size is too big or just normal? I know small isn't…"
The box responded in Medici's unmistakable voice. Amon's grin widened even further.
"Now… what do I do with such exquisite blackmail material…"
***
[A/N: Okay, we got a little slice-of-life scene here, and Medici's in the game, I guess, hahaha. I tried to make it as realistic as possible, and that's it. I don't know if I got everything exactly right, but I remembered how nervous I felt about my first time, so whatever. And yep, Amon's a demon now! Bros trying every trick to cheat the process. While everyone's suffering to advance, he just knocked himself out, heh. Now, there's another topic we need to discuss, and the age of slander must never die. So, who's the biggest potential woman?
1. Morgan
2. Effie
That's it for now, fellas. Enjoy the meal!]
***