Gregor was the first to recover enough to speak. "What… exactly is this system of governance you call democracy?"
Hannya answered smoothly. "It is a form of governance in which every citizen possesses the right to vote for their representatives through a process known as elections. Whether wealthy or poor, each citizen's vote carries equal weight."
"And these elections occur how often?" Gregor asked.
"At first, we conducted them every four years," Hannya replied. "However, our law enforcement agencies complained that assassination attempts increased dramatically during election periods. As a result, we revised the system. Elections are now held once every forty years."
The room went quiet again.
"So," Archbishop Antonio said slowly, "even your king can be replaced?"
"No," Hannya replied. "Our king serves as a ceremonial and symbolic figure. He does not participate heavily in governance. The current head of government is Prime Minister Solomon."
Everyone except Gregor looked deeply uncomfortable.
Luxius exhaled, forcing himself to focus. "And what form of peaceful and friendly relationship does your nation propose?"
Leviathan smiled, clearly relieved to return to something concrete.
"An excellent question. To begin with, how would a non-aggression pact and a set of trade agreements sound?" He gestured toward the documents laid neatly on the table. "If you examine the papers before you, you will find the proposed non-aggression pact, along with a list of goods we wish to purchase from the Ravendawn Kingdom."
The humans leaned forward, reading in silence.
"This non-aggression pact appears… standard," Gregor said at last. "And the trade agreement—livestock, fruits, vegetables…" He frowned. "It is… very ordinary."
"Yes," Hannya said. "We believe it is wiser to proceed slowly and carefully. Over time, we hope to earn the trust of the people of Talvaris and work toward coexistence."
Archbishop Antonio scoffed but Leviathan ignored him.
"I cannot give an immediate answer to this proposal," Luxius said after a moment. "I must first discuss it with my father, King Luxtor."
"Ahem," Duke Pierre interjected. "And with the Kingdom of Vandoria as well, if I may remind you."
"…Indeed," Luxius replied.
"We shall await your favorable response," Leviathan said, inclining his head. "And we sincerely hope it brings good news."
---
Goddess Realm
"Wha— wha— WHAT IN MY NAME IS HAPPENING!?"
Celes screamed and hurled her wine glass at the magic mirror. The glass shattered spectacularly, the image rippling—but stubbornly continuing to display the peace conference.
"WHERE ARE MY MAN-EATING DEMONS?!
WHERE ARE MY KILLING PRAYERS?!
WHERE ARE MY DYING PRAYERS?!
AND WHAT THE FUCK IS DEMOCRACY?!"
Seraph, the angel secretary flinched, wings trembling, and hurriedly tried to explain.
"D-Democracy is a system of governance originating from Earth, where—"
"Oh, shut it!" Celes snapped. "Why does Earth's garbage exist in my world!? WHY ARE THERE EARTH WAR MACHINES FLYING AROUND TALVARIS!?"
"I… suppose," Seraph said carefully, "that this may be connected to Alex Solomon—"
"That pig was supposed to suffer for one hundred and thirty years!" Celes roared. "He was meant to be weak! Humiliated! Broken! How is he a demon leader now!? How is he running a country!?"
"I… I do not have an answer for that, my goddess."
"AAAGH!"
Celes grabbed another glass, hesitated, then threw it anyway.
Little did the goddess know—
When the system informed Alex Solomon that he could access the Earth network…
It meant ALL networks.
Restricted ones.
Classified ones.
Ones very explicitly labeled RESTRICTED ACCESS.
The Pentagon.
The CIA.
Private weapon manufacturers.
Out of sheer curiosity, he had even browsed North Korea's intranet.
Mostly for fun.
---
Murica Capital, Bashington DC
Three thousand miles from the Great Demon Gate stood a city that looked suspiciously like Washington DC—if Washington had been designed by demons with a fondness for spikes and ominous geometry.
Meanwhile, the structure meant to be the White House was replaced by a massive black ziggurat, angular and oppressive.
Naturally, it was called the Black House.
Inside, Alex Solomon sat at the head of a long conference table, facing his cabinet.
Leviathan — Foreign Affairs
Asmodeus — Director of the Bureau of Information and Counter Humanoid-Intelligence
Satan — Defense
Mammon — Finance and Trade
Beelzebub — Science & Technology
"And that concludes my report from the conference," Leviathan said, neatly closing his papers.
"Thank you, Levi," Solo replied.
Asmodeus, the old and gentle looking demon, leaned forward. "Do you believe they will agree to the non-aggression treaty?"
"Oh, they will, Mo. They will," Solo said calmly. "At least until they figure out a way to profit from conquering us."
"Such is human nature," Asmodeus said pleasantly. "How charming."
Satan, the big muscular demon, crossed his arms. "I hope they don't take too long. After the last rebellion, my boys are bored out of their skulls. Just drills, simulations, and more drills."
Mammon, the typical accountant-like demon, shot him a glare. "Oh, shut up, Stan! I just burned an absurd budget launching our satellite last week. My head is still pounding. And now you want me to budget for a war?"
"Well, Monny—"
"Don't Monny me."
Solo raised a hand before it escalated. "Easy. We need Stan's forces ready. These are uncertain times." He turned his gaze. "Bub, status update. When will the satellites be operational?"
Beelzebub, still wearing his white scientist jacket with pens and screwdriver attached to its pocket, opened his clipboard.
"At present, they are still in the commissioning phase! Outgassing, decontamination, system checks—after that, calibration and orbital maneuvering." He beamed. "My estimate? Three months."
Solo smiled faintly. "Good. Levi, make sure no country finds a reason to attack us for the next three months."
"Yes, sir," Leviathan replied without hesitation.
Mammon groaned loudly. "I still hope this so-called GPS and internet nonsense is worth what it's costing me."
"Monny! Of course it's worth it!" Beelzebub said, eyes shining. "We are the first civilization on Talvaris to reach space! That alone is priceless! And beyond that—new sciences, new discoveries—"
"Well forgive me if I don't share your gluttony for science!" Mammon snapped. "Or war," he added, glaring at Satan.
Solo interjected calmly, "Trust me. It's worth it. In the long run, the private sector will explode the moment we introduce the internet."
He very deliberately did not mention the future military spending required to fully exploit satellite navigation.
"So let me make this clear one more time," Solo said, his tone firm but relaxed. "We proceed carefully. We still don't know how advanced they are—especially in magic warfare. We gather information first. That's all."
The ministers rose one by one and filed out, leaving Solo alone in his office.
Solo then walked toward the window and gazed up at the sky, at the faint lights far above the clouds.
A slow grin crept across his face.
"How do you like my work, bitch?" he murmured softly.
His smile widened.
"It's game on."
---
Bashington DC—Several Days Later
It was a beautiful morning at the Black House.
With the Divine Barrier gone, the thunderclouds that had permanently squatted over Murica's sky finally dispersed. Sunlight poured down onto the Demon Territory for the first time in milennia.
The reaction was mixed.
Many demon citizens immediately filed complaints. The sun caused sunburns. It forced them to buy sunglasses. Hats. Sunscreen. Entire industries they had never emotionally prepared for.
The fashion industry, however, was ecstatic.
So was Solo.
As a former human, Solo had missed the warmth of the sun more than he'd expected. He was currently enjoying it while jogging around the Black House courtyard, moving at a steady pace that left the staff and Secret Service staring in quiet awe.
To them, their leader looked like one hell of a demon—voluntarily torturing himself for fun, first thing in the morning.
After finishing his run, Solo headed back to the master bedroom for a shower. He was no longer the chubby orc he used to be.
Even though the goddess's curse prevented him from leveling up, it didn't stop him from losing fat or building muscle. He had been hitting the gym religiously—partly out of discipline, and partly because he no longer wanted to look "fat and delicious" to other demons.
His early days in the Demon Kingdom had taught him that was not a compliment.
Now, Solo had an athletic build. Six-pack included. At one point, People Magazine: Orc Edition had even nominated him as one of the Sexiest Orcs Alive.
This did not make Solo happy. From his very human perspective, having a relationship with a female orc felt uncomfortably close to bestiality, and he had no interest in reenacting an episode of Black Mirror inside a fantasy world.
Soft footsteps approached. The shower curtain suddenly whipped open as a female demonfolk lunged in and wrapped her arms around him.
"Whoa! Baby! You scared me!"
"Teehee~ hi sexy. I missed you," she said.
They kissed under the running water.
The demon was Lilith—Solo's wife, and Murica's Chief of Staff.
While Solo had no taste for female orcs, female demonfolk were a different matter entirely. Lilith was a human-level hot babe… if one simply ignored the horns and the spiky tail.
"How was the trip?" Solo asked.
"Oh, nothing serious," Lilith replied casually. "Some senators were whining that humans would come here and steal demon jobs."
She shrugged.
"I shut them down after telling them: 'When that happens, we will have already stolen their resources, so stop bitching.'"
Solo grinned. "That's my girl."
"I'm going to change," Lilith said. "Hurry up and finish your shower. We're expected at the Pentagon."
She turned to leave, but Solo immediately grabbed her wrist and pulled her back under the water.
"We got time for a quickie?"
"You horny orc," Lilith laughed.
Hundreds of years ago, the only "interracial relationship" the Demon Kingdom recognized was one race ending up inside another race's stomach.
But when Solo and Lilith publicly married eighty years ago, they quickly became the face of interracial marriage. Their union encouraged others to follow suit—except in the southern counties, where many still preferred marrying their cousins.
The result was a dramatic reduction in racial tension across the Demon Territory. Still, Solo had never married Lilith for political reasons.
Let's be honest—what normal man chooses to stay single just because he lives in a fantasy world? Let alone stay a virgin?
Although Solo did realize one thing far too late.
By marrying the woman who would later earn the title Demon Queen, he had effectively and permanently killed his own harem route.
---
On The Road
Moments later, a motorcade rolled through Bashington traffic.
At its center was a black limousine with the license plate "666."
Affectionately—and officially—known as The Beast.
Inside, Lilith reviewed a stack of documents with sharp focus. Solo sat beside her, saying nothing, occasionally rubbing the faint slap mark on his cheek.
"…Baby," he muttered, testing his luck. "It hurts."
"You deserve it," Lilith replied without looking up. "I've told you a thousand times—stop trying to use my tail as a fucking dildo."
"Yes, ma'am…" Solo sighed. Then, wisely, changed the subject. "Anyway. How's the public handling the post-barrier situation?"
"It's improving," Lilith said. "Most demons can walk under direct sunlight without protection now."
She flipped a page.
"Although the FAA is currently dealing with absolute chaos in the pilots' community."
Solo frowned. "What happened?"
"Once the barriers disappeared, a lot of pilots immediately tried flying above forty thousand feet."
"And?"
"Most of them stalled."
"Well…" Solo hesitated. "I can't really blame them for wanting an out-of-cage experience."
"With passengers onboard."
"…Ah."
"Other than that," Lilith continued, "everything has mostly returned to normal."
"Good to hear. Any news from the border?"
"We finished the railway connecting our FOB and the DMZ to the nearest city. It should significantly help with goods delivery from outside territories."
"DMZ?" Solo asked.
"Demon–Mankind Zone," Lilith said. "A neutral two-and-a-half square mile strip between us and Ravendawn. Levi's idea."
"Ah." Solo immediately thought of the Earth version.
"Now that people know we aren't planning to eat them," Lilith added, "caravans and settlers have started showing up, looking for opportunities."
"Settlers," Solo said slowly, "or spies?"
"Both." Lilith said, "We expect it to grow into a town in the near future."
"Interesting," Solo murmured, recalling a certain Japanese anime with a disturbingly similar setup.