Meeting Room
Luke listened to Solo's plan in silence.
Then he exploded.
"You want me to make demons kind and thoughtful?!" Luke doubled over, clutching his stomach as tears streamed down his face. "DEMONS?! AHAHAHAHAHA—oh gods—BEST MONDAY EVER!"
He wiped his eyes, still giggling uncontrollably.
"Belphy will make all the required materials," Solo said evenly. "But we'll need you to handle the marketing plan and execution."
"Ugh…" Belphy groaned immediately.
Lilith added, "We'll subsidize and give tax re—"
"I'll do it," Luke cut in.
Lilith blinked. "…You'll do it?"
"OF COURSE!" Luke straightened, grinning ear to ear. "This is insane and hilarious."
Belphy leaned closer to Lilith and whispered, "Huh. That was fast."
"So," Luke continued cheerfully, "how would you do the contract?"
Lilith started, "Well, the government will make—"
"Not that contract," Luke interrupted.
His smile sharpened. The air thickened. His gaze locked onto Solo.
"I said…"
"How will you do the contract?"
Lilith shot to her feet.
"LUKE! YOU WANT A DEMON CONTRACT WITH SOLO AGAIN?!"
"Asking the Demon King for a favor is never cheap," Luke sang.
Lilith's mana flared as she began transforming in fury—but Solo calmly raised a hand.
"It's fine," he said. "I came prepared."
Luke clapped like an excited child.
"Excellent! Now, you two—please give us the room."
Lilith hesitated, teeth clenched, but Solo gave her a reassuring nod. She and Belphy reluctantly left, slamming the door behind them.
Silence.
Luke leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, amused.
"You know," he said lightly, "I'm glad. Even after a century, you still bring me fun ideas."
"I adapt," Solo sighed. "I need to—if I want revenge on the goddess."
"Remember," Luke replied lazily, "I don't hate her. She practically handed me this playground. So if you're planning to use 'revenge' as bargaining—no."
"I'm giving you something you actually want."
"Oh?" Luke tilted his head. "But I already have what I want. Do you remember why I never left demon territory even after the barrier fell?"
"Because the outside races felt like… ants."
"Exactly. Weak. Boring." Luke smiled. "Demons are the only race worth tormenting. And do you remember why I never enslave them?"
"Because slavery breaks pride," Solo said. "And they become numb. Like humans."
"Ting tong! Exactly!" Luke snapped his fingers.
"Bullying is an art. Not too often. Not too rare. Timing is everything."
He leaned forward.
"You promised me a society where millions of demons suffer despair five days a week for the rest of their lives—without me lifting a finger."
"And you delivered."
Luke's eyes gleamed.
"So what more can you offer?"
"You currently control the souls of… what? Half of Murica?"
"Fifty-three point eight percent," Luke corrected proudly.
Solo met his gaze without flinching.
"What if I make those souls even more desperate—without breaking them?"
Luke's smile vanished. His eyes narrowed.
"…Go on."
"And I can raise that fifty-three point eight percent to eighty," Solo continued. "Maybe more."
Luke's eyes glowed.
"Really?"
"Children too?"
"…Yes."
Luke burst into laughter.
"HAHAHAHA! If anyone else said that, I'd call it bullshit."
He waved a hand. "Fine. In return, I'll manipulate demon public opinion however you want…"
He paused, thinking.
"…in three years."
"I need it in six months."
"Che…" Luke clicked his tongue. "You're killing me. One year. Fastest I can do."
"…Deal."
Luke offered his hand.
Solo hesitated—then took it.
A blast of demonic aura erupted around them.
"NGH—!" Solo gasped as burning letters carved themselves into his soul.
"Sorry, bro," Luke said, grinning. "You remember the procedure."
Through clenched teeth, Solo forced the words out.
"…I, Alex Solomon… hereby request the Demon King Lucifer Morningstar's assistance…"
"…and in return… I will grant him… social media."
---
Moments later, a Marine-13 helicopter lifted off from Hellicon Valley, rotors roaring as Solo, Lilith, and Belphy sat inside.
Down below, Luke waved enthusiastically—like a cheerful tourist seeing friends off at an airport.
"Kekeke…" he chuckled, hands cupped around his mouth.
"Solo, you knew demons would never be free. You didn't destroy the goddess's barrier—you replaced it and renamed it progress."
The helicopter rose higher.
He tilted his head, grin widening.
"You sold their souls to me," Luke continued lightly, "and convinced them your grudge was their grudge."
He burst out laughing.
"That's why you're my best bro."
"The most evil among us."
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
In one year, the campaign became a massive success.
Demons obediently followed Solo's sudden non-expansionist policy, baffled but compliant.
Luke enjoyed a constant tidal wave of emotions through social media—especially from angsty teenagers discovering despair, identity crises, and comment sections all at once.
Murica's mental health industry posted record-breaking profits.
---
PRESENT TIME…
Ravendawn, Raven City
One year into its "friendly relations" with Murica, Ravendawn had transformed.
Electricity spread across the province.
Highways carved through old trade routes.
Railroads stitched cities together.
Even the internet arrived—confusing nobles, horrifying scholars.
In exchange, Ravendawn granted Murica mining rights to resources they hadn't even known existed.
Other nations mocked Murica for not conquering Ravendawn outright.
Solo, born in 21st-century Earth, knew better.
A poor neighbor is a dangerous neighbor.
A wealthy neighbor becomes a customer.
Now, wealthy Ravendawns walked around in seventeenth-century clothing while holding Murican smartphones. Horse-drawn wagons still clattered through the streets, but trains and buses—operated by Murican companies—connected their cities with ruthless efficiency.
Raven City, however, struggled.
With the capital moved back to Dawn City, its revenue collapsed.
Once a fortress built to repel demons, Raven City now begged demons to visit.
Unfortunately, unlike Dawn City, it had nothing to offer.
No beaches.
No scenic mountains.
Just grasslands filled with monsters.
Hills filled with monsters.
And the Black Forest—filled with even more monsters.
Muricans dismissed Raven City as "just another Murican town."
But the new king, Lucius, was clever.
With transportation now cheap, safe, and absurdly fast, he pivoted the city's economy toward adventurers.
Raven City was now only one train ride away from Dawn port—twenty-four hours instead of two weeks. Even the bus was faster than the old monster-infested caravan routes.
The only downside?
Murican transport companies hated adventurers.
Delays caused by oversized shields or weapons stuck into doorways.
Broken seats from armor exceeding weight limits.
A cleric accidentally sanctifying a station vending machine.
Business as usual.
After reaching Raven City, the adventurers were immediately greeted by a dizzying range of lodging options. They could stay at a humble local inn, or book a room at the Helton Hotel—a luxurious glass-and-marble monument funded by Murican investors who firmly believed that even medieval fantasy cities deserved overpriced pillows.
For equipment and supplies, adventurers had choices as well. Traditionalists could visit the local blacksmith for handcrafted gear forged with sweat, pride, and wildly inconsistent quality. Everyone else went to Wailmart, where mass-produced adventuring essentials lined the shelves in neat rows, each tagged with prices low enough to feel suspicious.
Wailmart even rented out Murican weapons such as hunting rifles and shotguns—renting only. Purchasing them was strictly forbidden. At first, some adventurers tried stealing them. That phase ended quickly.
The collateral fee for rentals was obscene, and ammunition could only be purchased within Raven City. Stealing a gun without bullets turned out to be about as useful as stealing a spoon to fight a dragon. After a few humiliating dungeon runs, the stealing mysteriously stopped.
The Raven City Adventurers Guild office was also the most unique in all of Talvaris. Instead of the traditional endless line of impatient adventurers shouting at exhausted receptionists, the Muricans had installed touch-screen kiosks throughout the lobby.
With a few taps, adventurers could browse quests, check bounties, book escort missions, report monster sightings, and even file complaints—most of which were about other adventurers.
The guild staff adored the system. Mainly because they no longer had to replace the bulletin board every time some overly dramatic adventurer felt the need to "read" a posted quest by ripping it off the wall.
At one point, a guild executive formally approached the Murican government about opening a branch in Murica itself. The request was politely declined. Apparently, there were concerns that adventurers might struggle to tell the difference between a wild demonic beast… and a demon child's beloved pet.
Despite the steady revenue from inns, gear, and rented weapons, Raven City and its Murican partners remained unsatisfied. Adventurers earned far too much from dungeon loot, and the city barely touched the real profits.
So they built two establishments guaranteed to extract money from even the most disciplined professionals.
A casino.
And a brothel.
The results were immediate and spectacular. Adventurers returned from successful quests and celebrated straight into bankruptcy.
But worry not, Raven City had planned ahead.
Right next to both establishments stood a conveniently placed pawn shop, where adventurers could borrow money using their dungeon loot as collateral—so they could continue gambling or "celebrating" in the brothel.
Truly, a wholesome ecosystem.