Trade-off 1
I quickly scanned my surroundings. Strangely, the demons weren't reacting to the man's voice at all. That's odd? The man was rubbing his temple with a languid expression. Spotting me looking around, he flashed a bright smile.
"Hahaha. It's fine. Don't worry. Fretting over the demons, are we?"
I could read the confidence in his laugh. The kind of confidence that said he could handle it even if the demons charged or screamed bloody murder.
"Speak casually if you like. All the kids here have busted eardrums anyway."
The man tossed out the horrific line without batting an eye. Only then did I notice the crusted blood in the female students' ears.
This guy's a fucking psycho.
I knew the method—it was primitive, something I couldn't bring myself to do. There were several reasons to rupture eardrums.
"Who the hell are you? Not a prof here, right?"
"Huh? You a student here? Alumni maybe?"
I stared hard at the man's neatly combed hair and face. Slightly slanted eyes, thin lips, short stature. If not a professor, total nerd buried in books.
"……"
"Haha. I started last year, so if you're alumni, no wonder you don't know me."
The man showed zero wariness toward me, a total stranger. That spoke volumes about his confidence. I kept my guard up tight.
"These girls weren't all your students?"
"Of course. All took my lectures. Handpicked the pretty ones."
He gestured, and the female students swarmed over.
His cold expression gave off pure sociopath vibes.
"Hahaha. I just cracked how to control Satan. These kids were dead meat anyway."
He smirked at the masturbating girls. His dick was rock hard.
"Cover your junk if we're talking? Fucking gross."
"Hahaha. Got excited seeing a visitor with a different pattern."
He knew about patterns. Neuroscience prof through and through.
"Quest done?"
"As you see. The girls who trusted me? All like this now. Boys? Disposed."
"Disposed?"
"Buried, let's say. Dead anyway—let 'em rest. No room for males in my kingdom."
My head throbbed. Masturbating girls everywhere.
I pointed at one printing her pussy. "Thought it was Prof. Kim Hakdo's doing. Surprise."
"Oh! You know Prof. Kim too. First lab was his handiwork. Eardrums? His idea."
"……"
"You know what? Right after turning Satan, the girls sucked off the profs' dicks. Their daily pattern. Young sluts blowing old profs for grades... and drugs too... drug orgies on the sacred campus!!"
He started calm, then exploded in a crescendo of rage.
I eyed the girls with ear scabs. Key reason for busting eardrums: developmental delay.
"Rupturing eardrums fucks with neuroplasticity in the auditory cortex... stalls language and social learning, triggers developmental delay."
"Oh? You know your neuroscience."
"Keep 'em infantile for playtime, huh."
He clapped lightly, grinning wide. "Bingo! Prof. Kim's brainstorm. Possession equals death plus regression. No Joker smiles—just natural ones."
He gestured at the horny, broken girls. Proud as hell of his handiwork.
"Gonna knock 'em all up, build a new world. Remake humanity from this school."
I knew what happens when scientists snap—plenty from subculture media...
"You're a properly fucked-up psycho."
"Nah. I'm humanity's savior. Join my kingdom? Breed with the fertile boards, live happy. Walk the stallion path with me. These girls? They'll embrace the sacrifice for humanity's revival."
"Dumbass thinks babies raise themselves."
"Huh???"
He scratched his head.
"How you helping with birth? Know jack about newborns?"
"Uh...? Study up?"
"Moron who doesn't get parents slave years for one infant."
"Just milk, right?"
"Think babies are like raising pups?"
Animals pop out and thrive. Quadrupedal walking adapts fast. Humans? Different story. Heavy brains need parents to guard 'em.
"R-Really?"
"These shells make good moms?"
Babies die without an hour's care. Bipedal, heavy brain—fragilest infancy of any animal. No self-sufficiency.
"Turn future moms into retards then breed? Your neuroscience cred's in the toilet, you fucking idiot."
"……"
"Whatever. You know O Nangryun? PhD student."
"Ah, under Prof. Joo Hyunyoung! Big guy, dopey face."
"Yeah."
"Know him. Doesn't show—probably dead?"
"Figures..."
"Why the casual talk? I'm a prof."
"Shut your fucking hole!! Unless you want it smashed."
No hiding the killing intent. Attack, and die. Hell, hope he does.
"...Yes."
Surprisingly, he cowered, head down. High odds Belphegor apostle. Better wait till apostle-strong, then kill and soul harvest.
Kill and soul harvest? What the fuck am I thinking?
Head-splitting thoughts. His actions? Rational, kinda. Just shallow morals making it creepy. Breeding students? Big-picture smart. Immoral, but shot at humanity reboot.
I chose demon life... he chose tame 'em for humanity. Adapt or cling to old ways. Goals align: life.
Do evil for justice like him? Or ditch justice, fit the evil world? What's justice in apocalypse? Morality? Fuck if I know. Just survival paths.
One difference. I ain't changing shit. Shells' world. We're outsiders.
"Don't cheer survivors. Might get you killed."
"Huh?? Ah... yes."
"Breed hard. No clue on world's future... but survive."
"Yes."
Polite now as my killing vibe eased. Nangryun ain't here—Paju it is. Headed straight for the car.
Survivors everywhere. Dude's dream doomed. Belphegor'll keep quest-tempting. Frog in warming water—slow apostle slide.
Hope ain't bad. College pussy harem? His final heaven.
"Whew... Paju time."
I hopped in the Bentley and fired it up.
"First like you in a million years. Death Mannequin's got hidden pussy—how'd you find and pound it?"
"……"
"That freak ride you built. Looks like my anal walkers... gluing four female lowers for a mount? Wild-ass idea."
O Nangryun eyed the sudden old man suspiciously. Fog-wandering wheelchair? Shady. Almost spilled dragoon motif, but zipped it.
"And now... that succubus you're railing? Solid mid-tier demon. How you still sane after her gas?"
Wheelchair geezer. Popped up right as O got hyped spotting a tit-pussy monster.
"Old timer. Just passin' by, aight? Don't cockblock happy time."
Fog wheelchair suspicious, but chewy monster pussy had him buzzing.
"Nah, Bear Widows were my crew too. Why they followin' you? Fucked 'em? Zipped out the pussy?"
"These demons your posse?"
O slowed his thrusting into the fresh titpussy. Clocked the meaning.
"Everything here's my posse."
"You Belphegor, demon king?"
"Figured wheelchair gave it away."
O Nangryun whipped out his dick at Belphegor. No fear—pure madness in his eyes.
"Whoa! Psycho! Shoving cock at me? Tsk tsk. Ain't female. Got pussy, but ain't givin'."
O'd heard Belphegor tales from survivors. Knew T-16 was his hell. Adapted perfect.
"What ya want?"
"Got my quest, right? Yeah, I gave it."
"Lame-ass betray quest. Petty."
"Pickin' apostles... but you? Successor material."
"Me why?"
"First freak like you."
"Whatcha mean?"
"Never seen human fuck my crew so open. Fear things... love things? Million-year first. Hell yeah, qualified!"
"Hahaha. All pretties to me, ya know."
"Right?? Amazing! Cute to me too. That's why I dig ya."
Wheelchair Belphegor clapped, thrilled.
"Starin' like that burdensome, man. Lemme just smash and bounce."
"Successor? Rule this world. Yours to play."
O stared hard. No joke—pure temptation.
"Mold fear monsters yourself too."
O's pupils quaked hard.
"Temptin' with successor spot... sounds rough... what I gotta do?"
"Talks easy. Smart—love it."
"Aigoo, draggin' tail... tough gig."
"Stronger demon king bullyin' me... fight my crew instead."
"You do what?"
"Fightin' scares me."
"Me too, ya know?"
"Old as dirt—back bent, limbs shaky. See? Wheelchair life."
"Ah..."
O nodded, hiked pants. Time for serious chat with Belphegor.
"Lose that fight? Your anal walkers, succubi, Death Mannequins, Bear Widows, Crawling Heads—all extinct."
"All gone?"
"Yup."
"Can't have that."
"Right?"
"But I got no power—how fight?"
"Successor gets my power share. Plus, my quest apostles? Your crew."
"Fight the king and his apostles?"
"Yup."
"You a coward?"
"Do it or nah?"
"Shell humans all mine?"
"Leave shells be. They fuel the hell system. Scared souls trapped inside? Powers me up... but kids these days ain't scared."
"You ain't that scary-lookin'."
"Blame age."
"What power ya givin'?"
"Whatcha want?"
O Nangryun scratched his head.