A Song for Demons

"What the hell is this bastard?! Ain't he scared of the Black Bear Gang?!"

"B-Boss! That masked freak isn't right! Magic and curses don't work on him!"

"His movements are only a little fast, but we can't pin him down!"

A space of barely thirty square meters. That was where I was fighting criminals.

My eyes swept the room in a flash. Demons were the enemies of this world — beings who grew stronger by massacring humanity, by shattering stars and offering the wreckage up to the Outer Ones. That was why the law allowed anyone to cut a demon down on sight without punishment. If anything, you'd be decorated for it.

But there were also those classified as Villains. Slaying a demon was no crime; being a Villain was. These were people who hadn't yet worked up the nerve to sell this world to the Outer Ones and become enemies of mankind — or who had refused demonhood outright rather than serve as their puppets. Even so, their goals aligned with the demons' to a degree: beings who meant to rewrite the laws of this world and live for nothing but their own pleasure. That was what a Villain was.

Not that these guys seemed anywhere near that level. They were weak — the kind of men who could still hold their own one-on-one against a run-of-the-mill member of Korea Hero Academy, but no more than that.

"Haaap!"

I knocked aside the arm of the one lunging from my left and drove in the sword I'd bought from the smithy beforehand. Shunk. An unpleasant sensation wrapped around my hand as the man's eyes bulged wide. But no blood flowed — instead, gray ash scattered from the wound. Something clattered to the floor, though I paid it no mind. The drops from trash like this were all the same.

The truly important thing was something else.

So with demons this weak, it took three kills for a single point? Back when I was with Seo Gayeon, the demon we took down had granted a full point of Reverse Heaven. The yield, then, had to scale with the demon's strength.

"To think the qi of Reverse Heaven would rise from slaying demons as wretched as these." The Heukcheon Demonic Sword spoke with pure incredulity. I found it absurd too. Reverse Heaven seemed to sit among the upper echelon of concept stats, at the very least — and here it was, rising because I'd killed a few nobodies.

Did your previous master never have this happen?

"Never. My former master raised his through enlightenment and ceaseless training. Even when he cut demons down, the qi of Reverse Heaven never once stirred for him."

So was this the power of the status window? Or something I'd gained when my stats evolved into concept stats? No way to tell. That was a question for later. Right now, I had demons to hunt. I gathered my focus once more.

"Y-you bastard! You think you'll walk away from this unscathed?! Behind us stands the Middle Rank demon who reigns over this entire district!"

"Quite the chatterbox. Scared, are we?"

Honestly, if that Middle Rank demon did come, I'd welcome it. I had the traits of most demons memorized, so handling it would be easy — and a demon that made its nest protecting trash like these would hand over a whole point of Reverse Heaven, at the very least.

As long as it's not an Upper Rank. In this place, Upper Rank denoted a kind of realm unto itself. Even if ten Middle Ranks swarmed one alone, even with one of its four limbs sealed, an Upper Rank would simply chuckle and carve them all to pieces. From that stage on, one truly could part the sea alone, split the very sky.

Of course, to reach that height you'd have to be an Upper Rank staring up at the Apex itself. As for the current me — even against a curse-weaver whose matchup favored me, one-on-one, my odds would be twenty percent... no, call it ten. That was the kind of realm the Upper Rank was. Monsters able to shake the laws of the world. Beings counted as armies unto themselves, threats to the world entire. Not that creatures like that would be here, or ever come here.

"Kheok."

Shff. I cut down the last remaining demon with my sword. The demons scattered into drifting ash as they dropped their loot. For reasons I couldn't begin to guess, slain demons always left items behind like this. I gathered the spoils with Nyeom and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tucked them neatly into my subspace pouch.

Pushing deeper inside, I no longer sensed any sign of people. Whoever had been watching over the Black Bear Gang must have been alerted by now. Deeper in, a safe came into view, and I stowed the whole thing, lock and all, into my subspace bag. With Perusal (-), I checked its contents: mostly paperwork for their illegal operations, along with alchemy supplies and materials needed for blacksmithing skills.

Time to get ready to slip away, then. The Middle Rank demon was supposed to be covering for them, but by the feel of things, it had no intention of showing.

THOOM!

Something massive had just slammed down close by.

"You accursed bastard! How dare you—how DARE you lay ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a hand on the Black Bear Gang under my protection!"

A voice bellowing without a care that this was a city. Definite proof of a demon.

I checked my body's condition. Not bad. Ever since attaining Nyeom, my body kept itself in prime condition at all times. Once or twice a year, there came days when you pulled off plays you never could on a normal day — the so-called zone. For me, those days happened to strike at ordinary times, so long as I wasn't bedridden in the infirmary after a brutal battle or a grave injury.

I took out the Leap of Strength, the Leap of Agility, and the Leap of Stamina, and drank them down.

Thud. I shoved the guitar case holding the Heukcheon Demonic Sword off to one side.

"Master! I shall say it once more — is this not far too shabby a treatment for me?!"

I gave the Heukcheon Demonic Sword an apologetic tilt of the head, then drew the blade.

THUD! THUD! THUD! The heavy footfalls were closing in. Then — CRASH! The door burst apart, and the hulking figure behind it was revealed.

A mountain of muscle who had to stand over two meters tall. As if he'd been doping on something, jet-black blood vessels showed beneath his skin. Strangest of all, his flesh was black from head to toe.

Spirit channeling, is it? His talent lay in the channeling line — a discipline that enslaved evil spirits and made them dwell within one's own flesh. His clumsy handling of those spirits must have been what burst out as those ruptured black veins. And his art, it seemed, lay in the wielding of that monstrous body.

Let's see what you're made of. I charged Reverse Heaven into a kitchen knife and hurled it. The demon glared at me — then curled his lip.

"Ha. You think a lousy kitchen knife could wound this body?"

The kitchen knife punched clean through his eye.

"KRAAAAAAGH!"

...

What even was this guy? He didn't seem fit to be called Middle Rank. The demon yanked the knife back out like it was nothing and leveled his one remaining eye at me. Unlike before, he was wary now.

I took another kitchen knife and twirled it. His eye tracked the spinning blade. This time the demon evaded the throw — but then, Nyeom. I bent the path of the knife held fast in my Nyeom's grip, and the demon recoiled with a yelp, scrambling sideways. I moved at the same instant. Knife raised, one downward stroke — and the demon caught the blade in his hand.

"You wretch... I shall never let this pass."

"Suit yourself."

I breathed Reverse Heaven into my sword. Black qi rippled and coiled along the steel. Tssssk! Reverse Heaven denied the demon's hand; the power woven from demonic energy was crumbling apart. More effective than I'd expected? The demon tore his hand free in a panic, and I poured my strength into the sword.

The Heukseom Sword Art. The blade, rippling with ink-dark qi, sheared straight through the demon's neck. Shff.

...With that, my Reverse Heaven stat hit ten.

Thud. Out from amid the scattering ash, a black tree branch clattered to the floor.

Appraisal.

Common junk, then. A shame — if the world was going to drop anything at all, it could at least be something decent. I tucked it into my subspace and readied myself to leave.

Just as I thought that and began to move, a presence brushed against my senses. It exuded a pressure unlike any of the demons I'd faced so far — what I felt was clear, vivid mana, nothing like demonic energy.

...

The temperature around me seemed to have dipped slightly. No — no illusion. It was genuinely falling. Here and there, across the walls and every corner of the room, a thin frost began to bloom.

Tap, tap. Light, cheerful footsteps — the gait of someone who owned the place. And beneath them, the sound of something being dragged along the floor.

...Insane. What settled it was that utterly preposterous song. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Off-key, with lyrics to match. That girl had no business being up and about yet.

I started hunting for an escape route. If I fought that woman right now, I could win. The Leap effects were still with me, and my physical abilities were only a shade below the young lady's as she was now. The problem was that I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have to bring out everything I had — and if I did, my identity would be exposed in no time.

"My, my. Looks like a little thief has wandered in~?"

I turned my gaze, and white hair came into view. Eyes of crystal blue, as if holding a still lake within them. She wore the uniform of Korea Hero Academy with no intention whatsoever of hiding it. In either hand, a frost-rimed longsword and shortsword. The silver young lady. The dual-blade fiend whose hobby was collecting the arms and necks of demons — Seol Hwaryeon.