The Devil's Handshake
I first encountered Bathory Erzsébet when I was still eighteen. On the cusp of adulthood yet still painfully young, I was just beginning to sort through my parents’ inheritance while learning firsthand how cruel the world could be. It was also the age at which I accepted reality. Yes, I faced it squarely. The day would come when I would be acknowledged as the true owner of the company, but the road would be brutally long. Very, very far in the future. Of course, I had known that much from the moment I inherited the firm. Still, the grim prospect that this might be the only thing I would ever accomplish completely wrecked my mood at the time.
Then and now, I have always been a greedy bastard. A fool who would rather stake his life in daily brawls than let the hyenas circling the scent of blood snatch even a single scrap of flesh. At the same time, I was self-aware enough to realize that another of my cherished dreams was dozens of times more difficult than simply taking full control of the company. A complete moron with just enough brains to understand the odds.
──Pest Extermination.
That was what I called my dream of eradicating criminals within the country. Anything beyond our borders was irrelevant; I couldn’t even see it. Simply cleaning up the vermin inside Westania was already an overwhelmingly busy and difficult task. Relying solely on solitary vigilantism, wiping out everyone from serial killers to corrupt politicians and professional criminal syndicates was an impossible fantasy. Nothing more than a dream. A grandiose delusion with zero chance of realization.
To even approach that dream, it would require massive operations backed by enormous capital and manpower. Given the scale, government approval would naturally be mandatory. The problem, however, was that my personal definition of “pest” was unlikely to earn their applause. If I had only wanted to eliminate terrorists, they might have cheered me on. Unfortunately, from a young age my eyes had seen a rather broad category of creatures as vermin.
Murder, kidnapping, rape, arson—serious violent crimes. Bribery, embezzlement, smuggling—calculated offenses that caused no direct loss of life but inflicted harm on many for personal gain. Businessmen and politicians who placed their own interests above the nation, evading the law and inflicting massive damage on society. All of them were insects gnawing at the foundations of civilization. All of them were targets I intended to deal with.
Even if I could kill them all, how would the country continue to function? My dream was so vast that such concerns were inevitable. I was the perfect example of someone with lofty ideals but no ability—unable to even properly handle the executives of my own company. At this rate, it was impossible. A teenager barely surviving day to day could not reform a nation. At the very least, I could not achieve it alone. Perhaps only when I was on the verge of death would any possibility appear.
Whether I built a secret organization, planted spies inside government departments, or found any kind of collaborator, I needed someone. A person I could trust not to leak secrets, someone competent enough to work alongside me against the state itself. And then, as if by magic, she appeared.
“Hey there. Got any worries?”
A true magician capable of performing miracles. A sage possessing wisdom so profound it was incomprehensible in the modern age. A rational partner who, unlike humans, would never even consider betrayal. She had come looking for me.
“I can help you with anything. Human.”
A demon classified as a vampire, bearing the name Bathory Erzsébet.
Naturally, none of it was easy to believe, so I had no choice but to be suspicious. Was she a con artist? Or perhaps a spy sent by the hyenas who had noticed me slowly but surely establishing my position?
“What an incompetent little fool. You sure have a lot of suspicions.”
With that complaint, Bathory Erzsébet grabbed my hand. She walked straight through the glass window of the top-floor office.
“……Huh? H-hey?!”
We flew through the sky. Without wings, I flew.
In that ridiculously simple and astonishing way, Bathory Erzsébet made me realize she was not some ordinary human, but a demon and a magician. She also made me realize that she could drop the chief executive of a corporation that ranked among the most powerful in the western strongest nation to his death at any moment.
But I was not the kind of person who would meekly entrust everything to her just because of that. I had only just reached the starting line.
Bathory and I communicated over a long period. We cursed at each other, threw punches to express our opinions, and negotiated the terms of our contract. After that lengthy conversation, we discovered that our goals aligned. Ultimately, while the ideals we pursued and the paths we would take to reach them differed, our final destination would be the same.
I also realized something else. The fact that a companion had finally joined me on this lonely journey brought me far greater comfort than I had expected.
I took the demon’s hand.
It wasn’t that loneliness had clouded my judgment. I had already chosen to become a bug myself and was not averse to rolling around in filth. What reason was there to refuse the hand of a mere pig or monkey? And if offering a mass of blood could earn me a demon’s help, what possible reason would I have to refuse? At least, I could think of none.
So I made a contract with the demon.
What I gained was the means to kill the vermin. What I gave was nothing but the filthy blood of those same creatures. No matter how I looked at it, it was a perfectly satisfactory contract with no downside. For a greenhorn who had only recently grown accustomed to the title of president, it was an excellent outcome.
And even now, I still think the same. Though her inherently fussy personality gives me headaches from time to time, when I consider the results that will come in the future, it doesn’t matter.
“Ughhh?! You came crawling back for help just to finish that stupid tin can? Didn’t I keep calling you an idiot? And now you’re asking me to provide the power source, not even the component schematics? Why don’t you just disband the entire research team and tell me to build the damn thing from start to finish, huh?!”
“……If anyone overheard you, they’d think you designed every single product our company makes.”
“Not every single one, but most of the ones you consider important came out of my head, didn’t they? Wait, don’t tell me you actually thought they all sprang from that empty skull of yours? Hah, as if there could be such an idiot!”
“……Enough. I need the power source for the combat suit, so I came to borrow your wisdom on the matter.”
“You really have no conscience, you human trash. I don’t even know why I contracted with an idiot like you. You haven’t forgotten the terms of our contract, have you? Though with a brainless human like you, I suppose it’s entirely possible.”
Bathory smirked, eyes curved in amusement. Every time we met, this bratty creature deliberately provoked me, and I was starting to worry about the health of my teeth. Still, I could endure it for now. Humans truly are creatures of adaptation; I had developed some resistance even to her constant nonsense.
“Shut up and take this. It’s an advance payment.”
I tossed her an ampoule filled with blood I had collected from smugglers not long ago. Even though I threw it quite hard, Bathory Erzsébet caught it effortlessly. She smiled faintly and stared intently at the glass vial containing the crimson liquid, gently swirling it.
“Not bad.”
Could a real vampire truly savor a mixture of over a dozen people’s blood without even tasting it? After nodding in satisfaction, she pointed a finger at me. With half-lidded eyes and a sly smile, she spoke in a teasing drawl.
“Even a caterpillar has its talents, they say. So you’ve got a talent for killing people too, huh? After doing it for ten years straight, I guess you’ve gotten pretty good at it?”
There was no need to refute her. The statement wasn’t even worth responding to. I quietly raised both middle fingers.
“Cheeky human bastard.”
Bathory Erzsébet also raised both of her middle fingers in return. For some reason, the gesture overlapped in my mind with the image of a child copying a naughty adult. Her actual age was old enough to be called a grandmother many times over, yet both her body and mental age were no different from a minor. In short, she was a little brat who only spoke like an old woman.
Realizing I was engaging in such childish behavior with her made me feel a sudden wave of self-loathing. I quietly lowered my fingers and changed the subject.
“……You replied unusually fast this time. Did something happen?”
“Ah, my little side gig has been going pretty well lately. I’m quite popular, you see, so it’ll be hard for me to make time for a while.”
“What? Then the power source—”
“I’ll contact you when it’s finished, so shut your mouth and get lost. I’d love to keep you here longer since it’s been a while, but you have an appointment, don’t you?”
Such as the birthday banquet for the Minister of Finance, for example. Bathory Erzsébet said it with the bright laughter of a child. I had never mentioned such a trivial schedule to her.
Frowning, I spat out a single word.
“Stalker.”
“Ehh, stalker? I have to know my partner’s schedule so I can adjust to it, don’t I?”
“Hah, you talk a good game.”
It was obviously nonsense, but for someone who had been considering skipping the banquet, it was welcome news nonetheless. So I said nothing more, turned my back on her, and began to leave. The banquet was starting soon; I needed to hurry.
“Ah, wait a second, you stupid human.”
Irritated at being called back yet again, I turned around with a scowl. Bathory Erzsébet casually wiggled her fingers and said,
“No, you have to take off that useless armor before you go. What, do you think I’m some vending machine that spits out whatever you want the moment you ask? No matter what, I still need to see the actual product before I can make the power source, don’t I?”
It was an unexpectedly reasonable point. I blinked blankly, thinking. In truth, I had thought of her as a vending machine until now. At my reaction, Bathory narrowed her eyes and stared at me intently. Could a vampire who had lived for hundreds of years truly read a person’s thoughts?
She pointed at me and muttered,
“Strip.”
Take it off right now.
And so, I was forcibly stripped.