Chapter 6
REM sleep after such a long time was incredibly sweet.
Sweet enough to desperately hope this moment would last forever.
However, the Trait didn't care about a Demon's(?) feelings.
Chirp! Chirp! Chiiirp!
Translation: Master! Please wake up! Hurry, hurry!
Magpie.
'Shut up.'
A cute... no, absolutely horrendous warning alarm forcefully dragged my consciousness out from the peaceful depths of slumber.
If that were a normal alarm clock, I would have personally dismantled it and scattered the pieces into the void. What a crying shame.
Chirp! Chirp-chirp! Chirrrr-chirp!!!
'Ah, I get it, I'm getting up.'
Unable to withstand an epic tantrum that would put a rabid Raccoon to shame, I forced my heavy eyelids open.
Gasp!
An eyelid pull-up so strenuous even a hardcore gym bro with a 500kg powerlifting total would struggle.
And yet, proud me somehow managed to pull it off.
Flash.
Half-opened eyes. A complimentary cornea massage courtesy of visible light.
However, the black Lens nullified it entirely.
Near-instantaneous light adaptation. And then, filling my vision... his or her distinct, gently balanced facial features...?
Reflected within those sparkling black eyes, which held a faint glimmer of light, was a bizarre Crow Mask.
Ah, so Magpie was throwing a fit because of my Contractor.
But what are you doing?
"...?"
"...."
I lay perfectly straight, arms crossed over my chest like a pharaoh's mummy, while they stared down at me from above in an intensely awkward angle.
It startled me so much I nearly smashed their Head in.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Are you awake?"
"Can't you see I'm still lying down?"
"Is that a Demon-style joke?"
It was my best attempt at humor, but judging by the slight crinkle around their eyes, it didn't land well.
"What if it is?"
"I will respectfully decline to answer that."
"An excellent response. So, what were you doing?"
"Raven's facial structure is fascinating, so I was observing it."
"Is that so. Makes sense."
There were no holes in that logic, so I stopped questioning them.
Even I would have stared intensely if such a peculiar-looking creature were lying still in front of me.
Still, staring with the dead-serious expression of a biologist peering into a microscope... I'd really like them to stop now.
I haven't built up an immunity to people staring at me just yet. In other words, it's embarrassing.
"We should probably head out soon, so I'd appreciate it if you got up."
"For what?"
"To register as an Adventurer."
"Interesting."
Tell me more.
I slowly sat up, bent one Knee, and rested my arm on it as I faced my Contractor.
Yuri, my Contractor, sat neatly on their Knees like an aristocrat's daughter or son, meeting my gaze.
Even unwashed, the dark hair on their Head had a subtle gloss to it, cascading softly downward without a single strand out of place to delicately brush against their Shoulder.
"Does registering as an Adventurer mean we can head straight into a Dungeon?"
"That's my understanding."
"Hmm. Do I need to register as well?"
"They don't issue Adventurer licenses to a Demon."
"Then how do I enter the Dungeon? Didn't you say Adventurer registration was required to enter a Dungeon?"
"I believe a Summoned Beast or Familiar doesn't need to register as an Adventurer."
A Familiar. If this were a game, does that mean I'm basically on par with a loot-fetching pet?
"That's an amusing way to be treated."
"It's not my fault, but I apologize."
"Don't be. I'll do my best to look like a Crow Summoned Beast."
"You hold a grudge more than I expected, don't you?"
"A Crow is just like that."
"Can you transform into a Crow, by any chance?"
Transform? I might be wearing a rather stylish mask, but I'm no Masked Rider.
I'm closer to a main villain exploding from a Rider kick.
"That's impossible. Do you think this long body can be compressed into the petite size of a crow?"
"No."
"Well, there you go."
"That's somewhat a shame."
"I agree."
If I could become a crow, I would have been able to perch comfortably on my contractor's shoulder and travel with ease.
Walking is simply repeating steps. And such repetitive acts are generally classified as labor. It's incredibly boring.
"Hmm."
"Mhm."
It had been about thirty minutes of repeating that boring, meaningless act.
"Is this shoddy structure, which is so dilapidated I feel bad even calling it an abandoned house, the Adventurer's Guild?"
"This is our base."
"Oh dear."
My contractor and I were lost right in front of our base.
***
A gloomy street still submerged in shadow despite the sun being up; an amalgamation of dreary buildings stacked high and tight as if to hoard all the city's darkness into one place.
The very bottom of Bastion, maliciously designed while completely trampling over any sense of convenience or artistry.
An open prison where prominent criminals, orphaned children, and paupers who have lost the will to live are all mixed together, living as quiet as dead mice.
'slum'
Here, in what the citizens of Bastion call the poor district.
"Are you saying we're here?"
"Exactly."
"Why?"
"Because we have no money."
"Oh dear."
It left a bitter taste in my mouth to realize that even a fantasy world operated on the logic of capitalism.
"It seems we really need to hurry to a dungeon."
"To do that, we'll have to go to the Adventurer's Guild first."
"Then let's get going."
"We are going."
"Then why do we keep coming back to the base?"
"...."
My contractor went silent, as if they had turned into a boomerang.
Or maybe they were pulling a *you can bark all you want, I'm plugging my ears and keeping on walking* routine.
It seemed to be the latter.
"Hey there, proud honorary resident of the slum."
"Yes."
"Don't tell me, you still haven't memorized the way?"
"Yes."
"Oh my."
My contractor suddenly became incapable of spitting out more than a single-digit number of words.
They didn't really have an expression, but seeing their eyebrows forming a very subtle V-shape, they seemed quite displeased.
Therefore, I'll stop teasing them here.
I am an experienced outboxer who knows when to hit and run.
I am better at treading the line than a spider.
"...."
"...."
Or maybe not?
Mister is sorry. I'll stop teasing you now, so please look ahead and walk slowly. I'm afraid you might fall and scrape your knee.
After somehow appeasing my contractor with my atrocious communication skills, I listened to their situation.
As a result, I learned the surprising fact that it hadn't even been a day since our demon summoner had arrived in the dungeon city.
"Incredible."
"You aren't being sarcastic, are you?"
"I am praising my contractor's outstanding initiative. The early crow always gets to gouge out a corpse's eyeballs, after all."
"Thank you. By the way, is that a demon proverb?"
"It is a crow proverb."
"My knowledge has increased."
An expression of complete disinterest, entirely contradicting their positive response.
That's too harsh.
"So, what's the plan? Are you thinking of wandering around the slum like this and making a map to sell?"
"You are being sarcastic after all."
This is why I dislike quick-witted black magicians.
"Sigh...."
My contractor stopped 'Yuri! Go wherever you want to go!' and leaned against the wall, letting out a deep sigh.
It was the expression of a middle schooler with lots of homework but stuck on an unexpected obstacle, wasting precious time.
"Hmm. It would be nice if we could check our location from somewhere high up."
My contractor glanced at me while saying that.
Perhaps from lack of sleep, their half-closed eyes filled with fatigue exuded a subtle pressure. What on earth is this? This spiritual pressure.
Could it be? Are they wanting 'that thing' I'm thinking of right now?
"That's right!"
"You mean to find a building with a rooftop and commit trespassing...."
"Not that."
"...!"
Gasp! Finally, it came out.
Contempt, a stern look, casual speech from a polite character.
How much have I been twisting myself since morning to observe this rare expression and emotion that gives me goosebumps!
Sincere verbal abuse from a male or female.
Bluetooth gourmet cuisine that doesn't touch the taste buds.
Well, that aside.
Actually, I know very well what my contractor wants from me.
Three representative parts that come to mind when you say demon.
Horns, tail, wings.
They probably want me to bring out the wings among these.
But I'm not a demon, just a slightly peculiar human.
I wouldn't have wings, would I?
Well, if they really want it, there's nothing I can't bring out.
"Excuse me for a moment."
"...?!"
I lightly lifted my contractor in a princess or prince carry.
"Light as a feather."
"I haven't eaten a single meal since yesterday."
"Oh my."
I expected them to blush from embarrassment, but after only briefly panicking at first, my contractor leaned against me comfortably.
'Body temperature is high, maybe because they're young.'
Light from not eating, and though a bit late, it seems we need to hurry to feed them breakfast.
You need to eat well to grow up like mister.
Of course, you won't grow to nearly 2m though.
"Hold on tight."
"In this position?"
"I'll hold on tight."
"Thank you."
Hah!
I kicked off the walls continuously and headed upward quickly.
"Ugh... uuugh...."
Right, left, right, left, right, left. Weak screams coming from my embrace at regular intervals.
As soon as I landed on the building rooftop, I leaped strongly.
-Crack.
I think I heard the floor shatter, but it must be my imagination.
And then.
'Deployment.'
-Rustle rustle rustle rustle!!!
A pair of black arms instantly tearing through the back leather and growing.
Soon, chain growth starting from the first branch, division and connection.
The shape of wings formed by arms crossing arms, hands crossing hands.
A veteran's bio-modified transportation method created to move quickly and safely on post-apocalyptic roads with poor conditions.
Praise me! You weak humans without wings.
The Demon's(?) magnificent flight.
-Flutter!
Grand yet ominous jet-black wings spread across the dungeon city sky, casting a giant demon's(not) shadow on the ground.
"It's high!?"
Is it high? Ah. It might be high by medieval standards.
Chirp!
Perhaps excited about pioneering the unknown realm of the sky, my contractor started grabbing my coat—to describe it more precisely, my collar—strongly enough to make Magpie uncomfortable.
But saying it's already high is problematic. To save bio-energy, we need to go much higher.
"No...."
To become an adult, you have to do things you hate. Little kid.
Read more at https://noveldex.io/series/novel/i-became-the-demon-of-terror-in-the-dungeon-city