The Demon King Shows Her Full Power

After a long stretch of thinking, I reached my conclusion.

"Fuck my life…."

I had been transmigrated into the body of the pushover hero.

The geometric pattern etched into the back of my right hand was proof enough. In the novel it was called the Mark of the Hero, and it looked exactly like the one I'd seen in the illustrations.

There was other evidence, too.

I checked inside my pants.

"What the hell is this toothpick supposed to be…?"

A little nub smaller than my pinky finger was hanging there. That was the dick. If it hadn't come with a pair of balls, you could have passed it off as a clitoris pumped up for size. Trying to have sex with this thing would reclassify the whole genre as yuri.

"Haa…."

I scrubbed my dry face with both hands.

…Why me?

It was unfair. So goddamn unfair. I hadn't done a single thing!

Sure, the current transmigration-novel trend was basically "reasons? who cares, you're in," but this was still too much. The comment sections had been stacked with people planting flags left and right, and somehow I'd leapfrogged every last one of them to get picked as the transmigrator.

Fuck.

"So what now?"

The standard playbook for a pushover-transmigration story was to declare, "I am no longer the pushover bastard you all knew," awaken into a cool, competent man, and set everything right. But this body was not built to become a cool, competent man. A cool, competent woman, maybe. That would suit it better. Not that I was volunteering to become one.

"By the way… didn't I get any transmigrator perks?"

That was when it happened. As if answering my words, a status window popped open.

Textbook. Absolutely textbook.

Seeing it laid out like that made it hit even harder. You had everything else, kid — just not the one thing that actually mattered as a man. How was it even possible to be 1.5 cm and not at least 3? I was starting to envy three centimeters.

"There's a next page?"

I swiped the status window sideways.

"What the hell?"

Two skills were locked. I'd never heard of a setting like this. The novel had never once mentioned the pushover hero having any hidden skills.

Tap. I clicked one of them.

Any reason not to?

Unlock.

The status window rattled. Chains came undone in a flash of light — it felt exactly like pulling a gacha. Did I just hit an SSR?

The light faded, and one of the locked skills opened.

It really dropped. An actual SSR-tier skill. I checked the description right away.

As expected of a hero. The number of people you could hit with hypnosis scaled with the caster's power — and because this body was the hero's, there was no limit at all. I might have started liking this body a little.

I unlocked the remaining skill too. The same release animation played.

Another SSR.

The moment both locked skills opened, a brand-new ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠skill flared into existence.

This time the Mark of the Hero on the back of my hand flushed red.

The design vaguely called to mind a certain famous series' Command Seals.

A laugh slipped out of me.

"This is just…."

They'd rolled out the whole board and told me to enjoy this world however I liked. I suddenly wanted to drop a donation on the author and leave a long, grateful comment. I was starting to see the author's philosophy. You really did have a plan, Author-nim!

That said — this pushover had been sitting on broken skills like these the whole time and kept them sealed. Truly pathetic. If he'd just used them, a baggage handler never would have stolen his heroines. Odds were he'd sealed them out of some goldfish-brained sense of duty, going, "I'm a hero, so I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠won't use impure skills like these!"

Idiot.

What are skills for if not to use them? This wasn't even having his heroines stolen — this was practically offering them up to the porter on a silver platter.

"Well then."

I stretched long and hard.

"Shall we have some fun?"

I looked around. The Black Gorge sprawled out in every direction. This was the Demon Realm — and that fortress in the distance with its collapsed spires was clearly the Demon King Castle.

The timing was post-ending. The ruined castle said as much, and so did the fact that I wasn't wearing the holy sword I always kept so carefully at my side. This was definitely after the finale.

I scanned the surroundings again.

"Tch."

Nothing that looked like a Base Camp.

"Damn."

If the Base Camp had been nearby, I could have headed back and laid down some hypnosis. For Daniel the porter: a suggestion that made him sexually aroused and erect at the mere sight of a man, shoving his ass out for them. For the rest of those bitches: a suggestion that made them love that version of Daniel for the rest of their lives. Would've been a hell of a show. Shame.

"Should I go looking for the Base Camp now?"

I checked the area one more time, then shook my head. No. No way. Hunting for a tent in a gorge as vast as the Grand Canyon was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a good way to end up filming my own Surviving the Demon Realm special.

Still, revenge was non-negotiable. They hadn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wronged me personally, but they'd done a number on the original owner of this body. Paying him back for the loan of it was the least I could do. Not right this second — but I would make them pay. Absolutely.

I set out for the Demon King Castle.

Why? Because the Demon King was a beauty.

In the novel, the Demon King was described as a beauty. Illustrations would have been nice, but she was said to be gorgeous enough not to lose to the heroines, so my expectations were high.

Back when I'd been reading, I'd cursed the hero as a complete idiot for sheathing his sword even though he could have taken her head in the final battle. Now I was ready to praise him for it.

"Whoa."

I arrived at the Demon King Castle. Sections of it had collapsed as if they'd taken an airstrike, but it was still so grand it pulled a genuine gasp out of me. More overwhelming, even, than the Sagrada Família I'd seen in Spain.

"Halt!"

As I crossed the bridge and reached the gate, a giant with axes in both hands blocked the way.

"Y-you…?!"

An earthquake hit the giant's pupils the second he recognized my face.

"W-why are you back…!"

As you can see, he was the gatekeeper of the Demon King Castle, and he had a prior record of getting absolutely wrecked by the hero's overwhelming force. That memory was still fresh — his eyes were full of fear as he looked at me.

Should I try hypnosis once?

No. I shook my head inwardly. My glorious first hypnosis was reserved for the Demon King. What fun was there in using it on a guy like this? I was not interested in a giant's ass-show. If he'd been a threat, different story — but I'd already cleaned out the Demon King Castle once. He was no threat to me.

"I need to see the Demon King."

"H-Her Majesty the Demon King is…!"

"Open the gate."

I waved him aside with a flick of my hand.

"H-Her Majesty is currently occupied with stabilizing the nation!"

The giant spread both arms wide, determined not to budge from the gate.

"And?"

I clenched my fist. Hypnosis could wait a second. I needed to test just how strong the hero's power really was. I'd read the novel to the end, so I knew he was strong bare-handed — but I had no feel for the actual scale of it.

I threw the punch.

"……Huh?"

The giant's voice, completely blank.

—BOOM!

A shockwave erupted with a roar like a fighter jet's sonic boom.

—CRASH!

The giant went flying and slammed into the gate. The gate itself tore free and toppled backward with him.

—THUD!

Dust billowed up. I walked straight through it, boots crunching. As the cloud settled, I could see demonkin working to restore the castle — looking for all the world like construction laborers. Stick hard hats and neon safety vests on them and they'd fit right in.

I ignored the demonkin trembling as they stared at me and walked into the Demon King Castle. Recalling the novel's layout, I headed for the throne room where the Demon King was likely to be. A few of them tried to stop me along the way, but a fist handled each of them easily enough.

And so I arrived at the throne room.

Fitting for the site of the final battle, it was a complete wreck. Sword scars gouged the walls as if a dragon had raked them open. Part of the ceiling had caved in, letting sunlight pour through.

And at the far end of the throne room—

"Sniff… We… that We should be defeated… sniff…."

A woman with silver hair and mysterious purple eyes sat on the throne, knees pulled to her chest, sniffling.

The Demon King. I knew it the moment I saw her.

"N-next time we fight… We will win… sob… We will win for certain…."

White skin set against a pitch-black gothic lolita dress, tears running down her face — she looked like someone you really shouldn't talk to. Menhera vibes. You don't poke the menhera.

That was when it happened.

"Y-you…!"

The Demon King saw me. She scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve and rose from the throne.

"With what face dare you set foot in Our castle again?!"

Her proportions were excellent, too. Long, shapely legs. A slender waist. Ah — the chest was a bit of a letdown. Still, the solid thickness of those thighs promised a plump, juicy ass waiting under that dress once it came off.

"Are you even listening to Us?!"

I was not. I'd switched on my personal noise-canceling while I appreciated the figure.

"L-let us fight again, human!"

"Nah, not fighting. You're weak as hell."

"We are not! We merely let Our guard down that day! Fight Us again and We shall win without fail!"

She was throwing a full tantrum. As far as I knew, when she declared her surrender, two-thirds of the Demon King's power had been sealed. Meaning right now she was small fry.

Anyway — how did you actually use hypnosis? Usually this kind of thing involved a finger snap.

"You ignore Our words yet aga—!"

—Snap.

"Ignore…………."

The Demon King's purple eyes went empty.

Ohh. It works! Confirmed: snapping my fingers was the trigger.

"Do I just plant the suggestion now?"

What would be good…

"Start light… When you get angry in front of me, lift your skirt and shake your hips while you do it."

I snapped my fingers again. Would it take? I watched, expectant.

"Human!"

Light returned to the Demon King's eyes as she snapped out of staring blankly into space.

"This is a contest! We shall reclaim Our dignity!"

The Demon King hiked her skirt all the way up past her waist, flashing black lace-trimmed panties, and pumped her hips back and forth through empty air like she was fucking the void.

"We shall show you Our full power!"

My first hypnosis was a complete success.