Revenge is Mine!
“Aaaargh!!--”
Crack!
“Gaaargh!!--”
Sizzle!Crunch!
“I’ll kill youuuu!!-- Graaaah!!--”
“Aw, go right ahead~? But here’s the thing. That’s a wish that’ll never come true, is it? Libert~♪”
The gang sent by Dekilaz. Thirty-seven beggars in total.
To be precise, they were disposable manpower living in the beggar village, employed by the crime syndicate not for begging like the others, but to handle their filthiest jobs—the very bottom rung.
They’d killed Ian and his crew, sold me and the other kids into the slave market, and built up some power in this port city as the bosses of the beggar scum. But a beggar was still a beggar.
To a real crime outfit like Dekilaz—ones who actually knew how to wield knives and weapons—they were nothing more than consumables to be discarded the moment they became an eyesore.
I was peeling the faces off Libert’s gang, who lay there with their whole bodies crushed by Dekilaz, limbs bound tight, sprawled on the ground.
Using the hands I’d gained from my contract with that bastard. More accurately, my sickle-like, razor-sharp talons identical to his, I was slowly slicing off their facial skin, peeling it away like an apple’s rind.
The demonic knowledge Dantalian had injected into me upon contracting. Based on the implanted instructions for how to properly offer a face as tribute.
I’d transformed my hands into the same demonic claws as his and was carving them off.
“Shoulda lived nice and sweet, huh? Like you or Ian.”
Shlick!
“Grrraaaargh~! You monster brat! I’ll kill you! Graaaargh!-”
"Here to fulfill our pact I call thee."
"A tribute I offer unto thee."
"The contractor of the Manbianja summons. Emerge and claim it!-"
⟨ Summoning Ritual ⟩
Blub! Blub! Blub!Sploooosh!
[[[Faster tribute than I expected, contractor.]]]
Reciting the incantation to summon the contracted demon that the bastard had implanted in me.
A massive darkness erupted from the shadow at my feet like inky sludge bubbling up, blanketing the entire forest as Dantalian reappeared in its grotesque pillar-of-flesh form.
Libert and his crew, faced with this sudden anomaly and something utterly beyond human, couldn’t even scream through their agony anymore. Overwhelmed by transcendent terror, they just pissed themselves and gawked like goldfish.
“I’m gonna wrap up this damn contract quick, reclaim my freedom. And... get my face back!”
[[[If you complete the contract, I’ll return it. No need to worry... First, I’ll take their faces.]]]
“Oh! Leave Libert’s face intact, though. Got a use for it.”
[[[Understood.]]]
Krunch!
“““Gaaaaargh!-”””
And just like that, not long after contracting with the bastard, I offered my first tributes.
As it collected the faces I’d peeled off, it yanked out their souls for good measure.
The thirty-seven members of Libert’s gang, who’d been wailing moments ago, vanished from the world without a trace—not even corpses left behind.
If I’m being honest about how I felt during the demon tribute ritual...
[I felt nothing at all.]
Guilt or sin as a human? Worthless in this absurd world.
Born at the very rock bottom, lost a mother I never even knew to illness, abandoned on the streets in freezing winter to scrape by as a beggar.
No human rights or dignity like on Earth—just rotting bread scraps fought over with stones in brutal survival scraps. I’d lost all that long ago.
Especially against the ones who sold me into slavery—no need for human morals or guilt there.
Yeah... the world’s the one that’s wrong. If I’m wrong... it’s this beggar-shit world and the environment it forced on me that’s fucked!
Call it self-justification if you want. Life survives by devouring something anyway.
9,963 more to go.
The number of human faces I had to offer Dantalian.
* ... ... *
[[[I look forward to more. Rewards will be... satisfactory, based on your exploits.]]]
“Thanks. But that knowledge you dumped in my head—no lies in it, right?”
[[[Didn’t I say demons don’t lie? Forgot already, like some birdbrain?]]]
“But you don’t tell the whole story, do ya? Like back when we contracted!”
[[[I only skipped what you didn’t ask.]]]
“Tch!-”
[[[I already taught you how to use the skins. Do as you will.]]]
Whoosh!
With that, the black shroud over the forest burned away, and it vanished.
The kid watching me and the demon from afar flinched at my glance back.
“Don’t be scared. I contracted with it, so we’re good now.”
“Uh-huh...”
“Whew—look at the size on her...”
Thud!
“I-It wasn’t on purpose!-”
Whoa?! What’s with the strength?!
I’d muttered at her massive muscled body flinching in fear, and the pissed-off kid stomped the ground. The earth shook like an earthquake, leaving a huge footprint crater.
Her thighs, wrapped in muscle, were as thick as a horse’s!
Huff! Huff! Huff!Crunch!
Phew~ Mess with her wrong, and she might stomp me flat?!
Snorting like an enraged boar, hot breaths flaring from her nostrils, her rag-covered body cracked and split with sounds like crunch! rip! rip!, muscles bulging sharper, more defined.
She was about ten, right...? Name was Rina, I think?
We beggars in the village rarely exchanged names.
We were all trash anyway—plenty like me, abandoned without names. For bottom-feeders who could die any second, names were a luxury.
I didn’t bother memorizing theirs. No point getting attached to folks who might kick it anytime—no tears to shed then.
“Whoa! Whoa! Easy, Rina! Calm down, don’t get so riled!”
“I-I didn’t ask for this!-”
Crunch!Swoosh!
“Eek!”
“Rina. See? Can you see my face? I’m made of some unknown smoke now... Eh? You see it? Can’t even manage a human face like yours.”
“Ugh... that’s...”
She calmed her excitement upon seeing my face revealed by doffing the robe hood, eyes wide in horror.
Her Hulk-swollen muscles shrank back to normal, spooked by my sight.
Even to this muscle monster girl, I was an alien freak.
Right now, I was some black thing wearing a human shape. Ate and slept fine, but with a face of swirling black smoke—no human could call this human.
That was me.
“Gotta find a way back to normal. But first... things to do.”
“Th-Things to do?”
“Revenge.”
Flinch!
“The bastard who turned us into monsters. The lich is dead, sure. But revenge on the ones who sold us into slavery, oppressed us. Not just Libert—Dekilaz, slave traders, all of ’em!”
“H-How?”
Revenge on Libert was done, but I wasn’t stopping there.
Trace the ones who bossed us beggars upward, and it led to Dekilaz ruling this port city and the lord himself.
For me, with nothing left at the bottom but malice, after they tricked me into this scam contract for ten thousand faces—no way I’d let those fat cats thrive.
First, check the knowledge implanted in my head.
“Got something to confirm first. Step back a bit.”
“Confirm?”
“This.”
Ssshh—
I draped Libert’s peeled face skin over my own.
My body changed instantly.
Twisting, like resetting dislocated bones. A sensation of pieces slotting together rippled through me, and I began to grow.
My six-year-old kid height shot up abruptly to Libert’s ~170cm, torso broadening to adult male size.
Crunch! Crackle!
“Eeeek!- Wh-What the?!”
Crunch!
“Whew~ Ahh— Hm! Hm!- Ahh— Oh? Even the voice is Libert’s?”
“Wh-What’s that...”
“Huh? This? Me becoming Libert via his face skin. Hahahahaha!!--”
The power from contracting with Dantalian.
[Wearing the face skin of a living-peeled target turns me into an exact copy of them!]
Not just outer appearance.
Voice, personality, traits, physical prowess—even memories. Everything identical.
Like an actor slipping into a movie role, becoming the character itself.
“Um... hey...”
“Hahaha! I’ll get revenge! On this shithole city, Dekilaz, the damn lord! All of ’em! Every bastard who oppressed us—dead, all dead!-”
…
“Hey, Rina. You head back with the food first, eat with the kids, and wait.”
“Wh-What about you?”
“Me? Revenge time. Thoroughly.”
!!!
“From now on, I am Libert. Time to make ’em pay for messing with us. Hahahaha!!--”
Leaving Rina behind, I donned the robe and golden butterfly mask on the ground, heading back to the port city.
What the... why do I wanna head to the city for revenge?
I’d just meant to test the face skin, but an uncontrollable urge to avenge against Dekilaz boiled up.
Unlike my original plan, my feet carried me straight there.
Memories flooded: before being dragged to the forest, caught by Dekilaz goons, stomped half to death with the other beggars.
And surging up—seething, white-hot rage.
Crunch!
“You made me like this! I’ll have my revenge! Dekilaz! Revenge is mine!”
Before I knew it, my self was morphing into Libert’s.
What started as testing my demon-granted power had fused with my deep-seated hatred for Dekilaz and the lord here, plus Libert’s grudge—turning me into a revenge-obsessed maniac.