DMZ
The DMZ is now growing into a village. Yurt-shaped tents surrounded the conference building, and humans and beastmen lived together. And no, no children are playing and running around the street without a care. There's no parent in their right mind who would bring their children to live next to the literal gate of hell. The DMZ is now a safe haven for fugitives, runaway convicts, slavers, and prostitutes.
Sure, there are still children at the DMZ, but they are slaves brought by the merchants. At first, the merchants are eager to sell the child slaves at inflated price compared to the adult version, believing that demons love to eat childrens. The demons found this insulting. Why pay more for something less? Unfortunately, by the time the merchants lower their price, the demons have had enough time to observe their level of hygiene, which they found questionable. Thus, all the demons politely refuse, fearing it will upset their stomach.
Sitting at a sideroad bench, Hannya and Belphy patiently watch the passersby. Every time someone passes by, Belphy makes a comment.
"Nope… nope… nope… nope… nope… nope… nope… nope…"
Hannya stared blankly. "Sir, Is this how you do it every time?"
"No, I got a fucking casting director for this shit. I'm doing this myself because of your office's ridiculous deadline. Are you sure Luke's not working there?"
"No sir, His Highness is not a member of personnel at our department. Please blame this on the Vandorians who are marching here."
"Tch, someone needs to tell those savages that you can't rush art."
"But aren't you being told to do a documentary? I'm not from the movie industry, but I sure know there's nothing natural about those."
Hannya pointed to a group of Jehovah's Accusess taking off from a bus, all wearing white shirts with short sleeves, backpacks, and a dark Bible visible in their chest pockets. They are looking around the DMZ full of wonder.
Hannya continues. "Or those."
Hannya then pointed to the other side, where many DMZ populations are lining up to an empty field being surrounded by a barrier. There's a big banner outside the barrier that reads:
"4 Gold Coins for Playing House—see reception for details."
Small print: "We're sorry, Ravendawn soldiers are not eligible."
Inside the barrier, Belphy's production teams worked like madmen. DMZ male populations are being made less scary, makeup artists covered scars. Wardrobe upgraded children's rags to "less tragic" and prostitutes' outfits to "less naked." Ravendwan soldiers had reported the event, but no one could explain what the hell the demons were doing.
"Well," Belphy said, "do you feel sad when a killer or rapist being slaughtered?"
"… why should I feel sad watching a human being killed? I'm a demon."
"Fair enough. But you're missing the theatrical point. Ugh, this is hopeless, fly with me."
Behind a big rock at the outskirts of the DMZ, a 16-year-old human girl is being cornered by 3 thugs, which is a pretty rare event for today's DMZ. Before, the lowlives at DMZ weren't scared to create troubles, but the demon soldiers always quickly put it to a stop by killing both the perpetrators and the victims, sending a clear message to the whole village that the demon soldiers really hate to write a report.
"Oh, come on, Ivy, stop running," Thug A taunted. "You know we can always find you."
"You fuckers, stop chasing me! You already have my gold." She snapped, pointing at the pouch in Thug A's hand—the one the demons had given her.
"Hehehe, I know, but look at you. You're so pretty now after the demons pampered you."
Thug A forcefully grabs her face, while Thugs B and C hold both her hands.
"My dick misses you, you know." He said. "I know that you miss it too."
Thug A starts kissing Ivy forcefully with his wet mouth, making it hard for her to breathe. But then she bit him. Hard.
"AAAAAAGH!!"
Ivy spat out a chunk of Thug A's lips from her mouth. She then grinned, brandishing Thug A's blood in her mouth. Thug A is screaming in pain.
"YOU BITCH"
He punched her to the ground and kicked her over and over.
"You slutty pig! You dare to do that to me!?"
Above the scene, Hannya and Belphy float while watching the whole ordeal quietly.
"This is such a cliché." Hannya comments
Tired of kicking, Thug A then decides to strip his pants.
"A lowly bitch like you doesn't deserve my dick! You deserve this instead."
Thug A starts peeing on the weak and bloodied Ivy on the ground.
"Dude, gross!" Thug C complained. "How can I fuck her like this? Disgusting!"
After a few minutes, all the thugs then leave Ivy's motionless and dirty body.
"Boring," scoffs Hannya. "Let's continue looking somewhere—"
"Not yet," Belphy interrupted.
On the ground, Ivy began to laugh—painfully, hysterically. She pulled out not one but two gold pouches: her own and the thugs'.
"Keehehe… idiots…"
Belphy made a rectangle frame with his fingers, framing her.
"Oh yeah," he said, smiling. "I found my Little Timmy."
60 miles south, FOB Doors
FOB (Forward Operating Base) Doors is a large base that accommodates 3,000 Murican soldiers. Tanks and artillery are being parked while the crews are busy moving shells and ammo to each of them. The runway on the south side is also having the same activities, where ground crews are busy doing maintenance and arming their aircraft.
Inside the briefing tent, Stan, General Hanz Lamda, and several officers studied aerial photographs.
"The enemy ground force is thirty thousand strong," a lieutenant reported. "Infantry, cavalry, magicians, artillery. In the air: three hundred wyverns and three thousand avian warriors."
"Huh, that's bigger than their welcoming party three months ago." Stan muttered.
"Yes, sir, this small group here is their raiding party—they'll reach the DMZ around midnight."
Everyone paused and showed a worried face. Stan taking a deep breath to calm himself
"Commander, how were our preparations?" Stan asked General Hanz.
General Hanz rubbed his face.
"To be honest, sir, even though we had fought countless battles against many rebel tribes and warlords… this is the first time we're having this kind of war. My men are still doing the preparation, but to be frank… I don't believe that we have enough time…"
Everyone in the briefing tent looks at the directions of the training ground across from them. A platoon trained with a drill sergeant and a civilian that is standing next to him.
"Oh no~, they are killing the civilians." The platoon droned.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?" The drill sergeant roared.
The person who wears a cap that reads "acting COACH" whispers to the drill sergeant. The drill sergeant nods and then approaches his troops.
"You! Step forward."
He pointed at the unlucky PFC Bella—a tiny vampire girl who was in the front because of her small frame.
"YES SIR!"
"Now do it again."
Bella trembled.
"Oh no~, they are killing the civilia~ns. We have to stop them."
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? I WANT EMOTION! I WANT DISTRESS."
"OH NO! They are killing the civilians." Bella is starting to stress.
"MORE STRESSED! THOSE ARE YOUR MAMA THAT ARE BEING KILLED! YOUR BABY SISTER BEING KILLED!" the drill sergeant screaming at Bella's face
"OH NO!! THEY ARE KILLING THE CIVILIANS!!" Bella wailed.
All the officers at the briefing tent felt hopeless watching how the training went.
"God help us…" said Stan
10 Miles North, Vandoria-Ravendawn Camp
Over a rocky hill, Duke Pierre, Archmage Durac, Prince Luxius, and several officers are watching over Archbishop Antonio, who is praying at the edge of the cliff.
"Our scouting party should arrive at the DMZ village somewhere around sunset and launch the raid after midnight," Luxius said. "I have also ordered my soldiers that are stationed there to secretly retreat before midnight."
"Good, we don't want those mercenaries accidentally killing your troops. So don't say that I don't care about your people." Pierre chuckled.
Luxius gripped his fist but said nothing.
"How many demons are guarding the village?" Pierre asked.
"After nightfall, usually they only left around twenty guards. But today, my soldiers reported that there are a new kind of guards being stationed there. They are all wearing white uniforms and actively talking to every villager."
"Hmm, maybe a different branch of their army. But still, twenty is a low number, it shouldn't be a problem."
"My soldiers also reported that the demons are making some kind of charity event today. Every villager is given new clothes and gold, and their demon healers make any visible scars on the villagers' bodies disappear."
"Tch, must be the devil's trick. Trying to convert the people there into demon sympathizers," scoffs Archmage Durac.
"You are absolutely correct, Archmage Durac. We should not show mercy to any demon sympathizers," said the archbishop, who just finished his prayer.
Everyone is surprised seeing Archbishop Antonio being covered with a visible holy aura surrounding his body.
"The goddess has answered my prayer. She is on our side. Nothing can stop us from delivering justice to the evil demons."
"Thank you, your grace. But even though the demons wanted to stop us, they are going to have a hard time facing an army this big."
They all watch below the cliffs, to the massive encampment of thousands of soldiers, and in the sky are several wyvern riders doing a patrol.
NASA, Mission Control Center
The atmosphere in the Mission Control Center is tense; everyone is focused on their respective monitors. Bub stands at the center with the NASA director, anxiously waiting for their officer's report.
"…instrument calibration checked."
"Orbital position also checked without any visible deviation."
"Data validation… complete. No anomaly detected."
All of the officers then look at the NASA director and Bub.
"Mr. Beelzebub, Devil's Eye is 100% operational and ready to use."
Everybody at the control center then applauded after hearing their director's statement. Bub is letting out a big smile and shaking the director's hand.
"Ahh, thank you, Director. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to report to the Prime Minister that we are ready for war."
DMZ—Sometime around midnight
In one of the tents, a male human is riding a female beastman.
"Ah… Ah… This is the second time, alright… Ah... I'm going to put it in your bill," she moaned.
"Oh, don't be so stingy, we're still a husband and wife until tomorrow."
"Ah… no fucking way."
Their "son" sat at the table watching with bored eyes.
"I still don't get why the Demons want us to play "family."
"You brat! Stop watching me naked for free!" The beastwoman snapped.
"Hahaha, he's our "son", let him watch. I think this is what those demons called "sex education."
THUMP
A thumping sound was heard from their doors.
"I think somebody is outside," said the boy.
"Go check it out," the man said, still thrusting. "Probably another Jehovah something again. This is the third time today, so annoying."
The boy walks to the door and opens it, he sees another Jehovah Accusess standing there. But to the boy's horror, there's a sword stuck to the demon's stomach, making his white shirt change to red. The Jehovah member fell down, and behind him is a mysterious big figure looking at the boy with bloodlust.
FOB Doors, Production Control Room
One of the barracks had been transformed into a makeshift TV studio. Monitors displayed camera feeds from all angles while crew members manned controls. Belphy stood behind them with his headset on. Hannya is at his side.
"By the way, sir, there's a message from Sir Mammon. He said, "Don't fail, or I'll slash your yearly budget."
"Tch, like I have a budget. I'm already the poorest department in the country."
"Another message is from His Highness. He said, "Good luck, make a good show—"
"Hmm, not like Luke."
"…or I'm going to fly there and kill you." Hannya continues.
"Yep. There he is."
"Sir, all cast entering the set," a staffer said.
Belphy straightened.
"Ok everyone, be ready! We're live in ten… nine… eight… "
The Black House, Master Bedroom
Lilith sat on the couch in her cozy sweater, eyes glued to the TV and full of excitement.
"HONEY, HURRY UP, IT'S ABOUT TO START!"
"Waa~it! Popcorn's not ready!" Solo shouted from the pantry.
A Bar Somewhere in Southern Murica
"Hey barkeep, give me a beer."
The customer paused as he saw a crowd around the bar's TV.
"What are they watching?"
"It's the first ever live satellite broadcast, something is being filmed from our northern border."
"What? That far?"
"Yup. Crazy." said the bartender while handing a bottle of cold beer.
The customer then decides to join the crowd to watch.
FOB Doors. Production Control Room
The countdown hit its climax.
"…three… two… one…"
Belphy grinned.
"And, ACTION!"