Renny had been nothing more than an errand boy the entire afternoon. By the time he was finally done, it was already 7 p.m. He slumped into a chair, exhausted, down to just his inner shirt with his tie hanging loose. That woman's a wicked demon, he thought bitterly. He still couldn't believe how much work went into preparing for this one ceremony. In hell, of all places? What's the point of all this pomp? He shook his head.
Just as he let himself relax, Seraphine's sharp voice cut in. "Get up. Fix yourself and meet me at the entrance, it's time."
Renny rolled his head back with a groan before dragging himself upright. He slipped back into his suit, tightened his tie, ran a hand through his hair, and adjusted his look until he seemed halfway presentable. Only then did he make his way toward the entrance.
By the time the clock struck 8 p.m., demons with unfamiliar faces began arriving, each stepping out of sleek black taxis that lined up outside the venue. Renny stood just inside the entrance, past the security check, ushering them in. He couldn't help but laugh to himself. An usher in hell. What a joke. Still, he guided each demon one by one to their places, while Seraphine occasionally slid in to cover for him whenever he was busy directing a guest to a table.
When Renny returned to resume his post, a peculiar sight stopped him cold.
An old man.
He was dressed immaculately in a black suit, a sky-blue shirt beneath, a red tie, and unlike the others, a black hat that shadowed his features. A polished walking stick rested in his grip, completing a look that carried an air of quiet authority. What unsettled Renny wasn't only the man's style, but the resemblance: he carried the same weathered look Renny himself once bore on Earth.
Either he had died around seventy… or he bore the same disease that once plagued Renny. But that made no sense. Why hadn't hell restored him? Why hadn't they pulled him back into a primal, youthful form, the way they had for Renny?
Renny moved to help him instinctively, only to be caught off guard. For someone with such an aged frame, the man moved with the fluid agility of someone in his twenties. A demon, no doubt about it.
As Renny approached and offered his greeting, the man extended a hand, calm, steady for a shake. Renny froze for half a beat. No one had ever done that before. Since he began ushering, most demons wouldn't even look him in the eye for more than three seconds, brushing past as if desperate to get inside.
But this one? He wanted to shake hands.
Renny clasped the man's hand firmly, and the old demon spoke in a voice smooth, gravelly, yet heavy with age.
"I am… Barovesh Rimein."
That caught Renny off guard. He was even sharing his name?
"Renayo Ezraphor," Renny replied, then softened. "But you can just call me Renny. Or Ren. Whichever suits you."
The man's lips curled into a faint chuckle. "So even here… they use nicknames. What a convenience…" He tipped his hat slowly, like sealing a bargain. "In that case… I'll go by Baro. No?"
Renny smiled. "Baro it is." He gestured forward. "Come on, I'll take you inside."
They walked at an unhurried pace, their voices low, their steps steady as the growing noise of the hall swelled ahead of them.
"I received a message," Baro said, his walking stick tapping softly against the floor. "Grade 1 demon. Hnh." He exhaled through his nose, slow, like remembering something. "I'll admit… it was difficult to find my way. But… I managed."
Renny nodded. "I understand. I was a bit bamboozled myself when I first got here. And yes… I'm Grade 1 as well."
Baro's eyes slid to him, sharp despite the years etched into his face. His voice came low. "Eh… you? Grade 1? No, no, ragazzo… you don't carry the air of a newcomer. Not at all."
Renny gave a half-smile. "Well, I'm not. I was meant for Grade 2, but… let's just say circumstances held me back. Eventually, I'll move up to where I should be."
Baro's nod was slow. A faint glimmer of approval stirred in his gaze."Mm. Hell… it's an interesting place, no?"
Renny let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You have no idea." After a pause, he asked carefully, "If I may… why remain old? I'd assume they usually restore demons to their youth, 'cause you're the oldest I've seen so far... by a long stretch."
Baro lifted his brows. "Do they?" He let the question linger, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Maybe they forgot. Maybe… they left me this way for a reason." He paused. Then, softer, almost wistful, he said, "Still… I would've loved… to feel my youth again."
It seemed Seraphine, standing just at the venue door, had overheard them. She interjected, "That's because he's an ancient demon."
"Ancient?" Renny frowned. "How can he be ancient if he's in Grade 1?"
She gave a small shrug. "It's a term used for demons who were marked at an old age. Such demons are intentionally preserved at that age."
"Huh. Very interesting," Renny muttered, just as Seraphine stepped forward and gestured for Baro to enter, guiding him smoothly into the venue.
Baro gave Renny a faint nod, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "See you around, Renny boy."