Hell and Everyday Life [4]

The fragrant aroma of tea tickling my nose slowly pulled my eyes open. But the sight that greeted me the moment I woke made me seriously wonder if I was still wandering through a dream.

Right beside my bed, in the middle of the grassy lawn, sat a table. There, Bael and Satan—who I'd thought had gone back—were chatting away side by side with a blond pretty boy I'd never seen before.

Déjà vu? I rubbed my eyes and opened them again. But the situation hadn't changed. The demons called the pinnacle of Hell had trespassed into someone else's home (precisely, the lawn) and were enjoying a tea time. This absurd reality remained unchanged.

...What the hell are these guys doing in someone else's house?

I propped myself up crookedly. The bed creaked, and Bael reacted first.

"You're awake."

Bael greeted me with her usual expressionless face, while Satan, still ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠holding his wine glass, clicked his tongue.

"You're late. Way late. How long do you plan on sleeping?"

And next to him, a man with dazzling blond hair like compressed sunlight cascading down his back set down his teacup and gave me a quick once-over.

"Hmph... If you're awake, don't just sit there like an idiot. Come sit."

His voice carried a natural air of command. I furrowed my brow and roughly ran a hand through my messy hair.

"What the hell is this situation? Since when did this place turn into a meeting square?"

I pointed at the blond guy and added,

"And who's that?"

No sooner had the words left my mouth than the blond man's eyebrow twitched. A chill of intimidation leaked from his fingertips as he set down his teacup.

"That rude finger pointing at me, and that vulgar mouth of yours. Truly, no manners to be found even if one scoured with fresh eyes. Tsk."

As he clicked his tongue in displeasure, Bael calmly stepped in to mediate with her composed face.

"My introduction was tardy. This one is Lucian, a pillar of Hell and the Root of Pride."

Root of Pride...

I eyed Lucian steadily. Blond hair falling to his waist, vertical pupils embedded in ice-blue eyes. He was undoubtedly a Great Demon—handsome to an unreal degree.

Do all Great Demons in this neighborhood just get this good-looking? The Roots of Sin aren't even in the visual management business.

Bael was one thing, but Satan and this Lucian guy all boasted appearances that defied reality. Thinking back to the monstrous demons from movies in my past life, the disconnect was insane.

I shoved those idle thoughts aside and hauled myself fully upright. Cracking my neck side to side to loosen my stiff body, I naturally headed toward the table.

I plopped down in the empty chair, and Bael lightly waved her hand toward the air. As if it had been there from the start, an intricately crafted teacup appeared silently before me.

Bael lifted the teapot with her expressionless face. The soft plip-plip of pouring tea pleasantly filled the quiet.

"Thanks."

I gave a short thanks and took a sip of the warm tea. The heat sliding down my throat finally woke me up a bit.

"So, why are you all here? Aren't you busy managing Hell?"

To my question, Satan lightly swirled the tea in his wine glass and answered nonchalantly.

"Territory management and all that hassle? The underlings handle it. Why should I, their master, bother with such trivia? I just came for a cup of tea because I was bored."

"You have tea in your castle, don't you? Why crawl all the way here?"

"Well, Bael's tea is only available here. What can you do?"

I let out a deep sigh at Satan's shameless reply. Turning my gaze, I looked at Lucian, who had been propping his chin arrogantly and staring at me.

"So... why'd you come?"

Lucian smirked, lifting the corner of his mouth. Just that smile made the air around us shimmer with illusory splendor.

"What else? I heard the baby brother appeared while I was away, so I graced you with my presence."

Lucian scanned me with the eyes of a noble scholar observing a primitive creature, teacup in hand.

"The mere fact that I came in person is an honor you'll never forget in your lifetime. Cherish it."

Lucian sipped his tea with elegant poise. I inwardly retorted in disbelief.

...Honor my ass. But baby brother? Me?

As I stared at him in stunned absurdity, Bael, watching from the side, calmly added an explanation.

"The Roots have always been acutely aware of each other's existence from birth. But you were different. Even I could only vaguely sense your presence as a faint otherness."

I narrowed my eyes at her in disbelief, and Bael continued.

"In the end, you are the last Root recorded in this Hell, so they've all decided to call you the youngest."

.....Huh?

I clicked my tongue inwardly. Whether I was dumbfounded or not, Lucian lifted his chin arrogantly, clearly delighted by the term 'youngest.'

"No way. I probably opened my eyes before any of you."

To my objection, Lucian scoffed.

"I heard from Bael. You witnessed the birth and providence of another universe."

Lucian set down his teacup smoothly, his vertical pupils locking straight onto my eyes.

"Most intriguing. But in this Hell, you were the last to take form and open your eyes. Thus, it is only proper that you honor me as your elder brother."

To his arrogant declaration, I turned back to my teacup.

No... ugh... what a pain.

Abandoning explanations, I downed my tea with a weary expression. Sibling rankings and such were pointless energy drains. As I ignored him, Lucian glanced around with interest and spoke.

"In any case, this is the nest you've chosen."

Lucian swept his haughty gaze over the surroundings. Then he tilted his head and stared at me.

"So, where have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you hidden your castle? A secret lair evading even my eyes? Hmph..."

To his serious question, I answered with a ridiculous look.

"You're sitting on it. This is my house."

The moment I finished, Lucian's face crumpled.

"...What nonsense is this?"

Satan, watching from the side, shook with suppressed laughter, kuk.

"Lucian, he's right. Our little brother hasn't moved a single step from here since opening his eyes."

Hearing that, Lucian's expression went blank. Then, about ten seconds of silence. His face gradually scrunched up before finally exploding.

"You foolish fool!"

Lucian's bellow made the grass quiver around us.

"Even as the Root of Sloth, how can you call yourself one without walls around or a roof overhead! No dignity whatsoever!"

Satan nodded, arms crossed, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chiming in.

"This won't do! Get up. I'll personally fix that empty head of yours."

"Why? Bed and pillow are all you need to sleep. What's with the castle? Castles are just more cleaning."

To my listless retort, Lucian clutched his neck in frustration.

"At minimum, it needs to look like a proper dwelling! Absurd—a mere field as a castle..."

Beside the distraught Lucian, Bael calmly added,

"Sloth has no minions to command, no familiars to serve. Building and managing a castle alone in this vast Hell would be no small hassle. As it is now, with nothing around, it's open and not bad for solitary living."

"Openness be damned! It's just barren wasteland! Even as a Root, it needs some semblance of a residence!"

With Lucian's stubbornness, even Satan started agreeing.

"Sigh... I won't demand a full castle, but at least make it look like a Great Demon lives here."

From then on, the three rulers of Hell launched into a heated debate on how to build my house.

"Excellent. A dignified black castle of black marble." "The scale should cover at least a mountain, no?"

I ignored their bickering and sipped the rest of my tea.

I'm fine with it, so why are they making a fuss?

Sighing as I set down my cup, I checked my inner Sloth Force. It seemed mostly recovered while I slept. To shut them up, I'd have to do something myself.

Let's see, what would work...

I murmured lazily in my mind, scanning the library shelves in the depths of my consciousness. Without lifting a hand, a heavy tome slid down and opened at my will.

Yeah, this'll do.

The moment I decided, the still garden air began to hum lowly. Soon, the clear sound of turning pages echoed in my head.

Shrrrrrrk—!

The image I envisioned wasn't some gloomy Hellish fortress. It was the cozy, warm red-brick countryside house from my past life's dreams. A wide yard, solidly furnished interior—maybe one and a half times larger than I remembered. That would suffice.

I stood, extending both hands lightly forward. Swirling Sloth Force tore through the air, sketching a vivid blueprint.

Soon after, an alien landscape settled on Hell's crimson earth. Red bricks, neat tiled roof, a modest terrace—a textbook modern countryside house, fully built.

I wiped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the sweat from my brow and said,

"This is my house from now on."

The three demons, mid-debate, whipped their heads around. All with slack-jawed expressions. Lucian asked, eyes wide.

"What... is this?! You created something from nothing in an instant?"

I shrugged, and Bael approached as if entranced, touching the outer wall.

"An architecture I've never seen. From another universe as well?"

"Yeah."

Satan sniffed around the house curiously.

"Hm... Feels warm somehow. Unlike Hell's cold stones."

Lucian stroked his chin, still displeased, but his eyes betrayed fascination.

"Hm, not bad... But isn't it too small? No intimidation—"

"I said it. This is my house. No point making it huge for one person. Too much hassle."

To my firm words, Lucian swallowed a hollow laugh, speechless for a while. For someone at Hell's peak, who'd always equated size and splendor with power, my logic must have been beyond shock—pure heresy.

"...Ha, hahaha! Truly astounding."

Lucian finally burst into laughter—not mockery, but the helpless chuckle at an incomprehensible creature.

"Sloth, you... your very existence mocks Pride. One of Hell's rulers, content in this 'hole-in-the-wall'? Your meager satisfaction is almost offensive."

Grumbling, Lucian strode toward the new house's entrance. His vertical pupils meticulously scanned the red brick texture.

"But I admit it. This bizarre structure has a strange power. No flashy eye-candy, but a neatness that draws the gaze. It suits your indifferent nature so perfectly it's unsettling."

Lucian nudged the front door open, twitching his nose at the woody fragrance and cozy warmth wafting out.

"What are you dawdling for? When the master builds a house, he invites the guests in. That's manners."

Shoulders squared like it was his own home, he stepped inside. Satan followed with interest, and Bael gave me a small shrug before entering with soft steps.

...My opinion really doesn't matter to these guys, huh.

I scratched the back of my head with a sigh.

"Hey, don't track dirt on the floor. Shoes off."

Lucian paused and turned.

"Take off my... shoes? Make a sacred Great Demon's feet touch the bare floor?"

"Then don't come in."

"...Tch, so picky."

Grumbling, Lucian carefully removed his boots and left them at the entrance. Hell's top powers huddled at my doorstep, doffing their shoes.

Takes me back... I thought, stepping inside myself.