"Huh!? Mammon?"
"As if… the demon Mammon? Is he real? How?"
Edward stood in cold silence, the immense weight of the demon's words clearly visible on his face.
His expression wasn't one of typical shock; it was more like a weary numbness, a sign that he had witnessed far too many impossible things in a single day. Yet, a problem was still a problem, and a demon was definitely a demon.
Mammon could sense Edward's tension—not surprising for a being who fed on such things. The more surprising detail was that the demon actually seemed to care enough to notice it.
In folk lore Demons were generally known as ruthless, merciless, and heartless creatures, born and powered by humanity's hopelessness and grief.
Being not just any demon, but one of the seven most powerful demons of Hell, Mammon surprisingly seemed rather unthreatening and harmless in his current attire, and Edward could sense that unusual feeling.
But Edward knew he could never trust a demon. He was quickly thinking through his limited options. Fighting was literal suicide, and running was equally useless .The only viable path left was—
"Hello, mister, are you there with us?" Mammon snapped his fingers directly in front of Edward's face, pulling him out of his intense internal debate.
"Oh! Yes, absolutely, my lord." Saying that, Edward instantly dropped to his knees before the demon, a clear sign of his immediate submission.
Keeping his head respectfully bowed, he quickly announced his loyalty towards the Sin of Greed. "Oh, the most powerful demon, the lord of all, I am honored that you chose me as your servant. I am very grateful for this—"
"Oh, shut the fuck up, will you." Mammon stopped Edward's lengthy speech—or vow—mid-sentence, clearly irritated.
Edward instantly closed his mouth but remained in his bowed position.
"Your sugar-coated words have no effect on me, so don't waste your time, kid, as you mortals have very little of it."
Edward waited for the inevitable command or threat.
"But," Mammon continued, sounding almost bored.
"If you have time to waste, let's go for a walk then."
"Stand straight, kid, and follow me."
Edward lifted his gaze, quickly stood up, and began trailing the demon. They walked across the endless, featureless white field. Edward maintained a nervous distance from the demon, though he knew deep down that no physical distance could truly be considered safe.
After walking about seventy or ninety steps in silence, Mammon finally broke the quiet.
"This silence is killing me. Hey, kid, you want to play a game?"
Edward simply nodded. He understood it was not an offer but an absolute command.
"It's a game of questions," Mammon explained, sounding like a teacher.
"We each get a chance to question the other. If I feel your answer to my question is good, then you can ask me a question in return."
Edward gave another stiff nod.
Mammon stopped walking and turned, fixing Edward with his gaze. "So, tell me, what do you think is rich?"
************************************************
'What do I think is rich?' Edward thought desperately.
'What kind of question is this? Are there more definitions of "rich"? Isn't it just a person with a lot of money?'
"Surely you can say that, but do you really think this is the only definition of rich?" Mammon's voice echoed his exact internal thoughts.
"Huh?" Edward blinked, confused and startled.
"You read my mind!?"
Mammon chuckled—a dry, professional sound. "I read your mind?" "Ha ha, kid."
"We are in your mind."