Summoning went wrong

Volume 2. Chapter 9. Too much to do.

I left the basement when the lamia gave me several bottles containing a black liquid.

I poured some of them into several barrels, mixing them carefully.

It was avatar goo.

I was trying to find the right dosage to infect someone.

When I was done I took a foul bottle and headed outside.

Copper City's layout could be considered to be considered around the term 'steampunk'-esk.

There were electricity and public transport, radios, and guns, but they were all made from copper and powered by steam. So much so that the sky was always covered in a grey cloud from pollution.

And I loved it.

An area of advancement and sorrow. A time of rich becoming richer and the poor becoming poorer. A perfect time for me to make deals. I already had several government officials and another businessman's under my finger, natural they didn't know my real identity or my true face.

While walking to my destination I changed my appearance.

"Demonic Armor."

I was back to my large, fluffy black coat, with the monkey jaws to cover my face. I also made my hair a golden color and my shoulders a little bit wider.

In a split-second, Gustave F Bellman was gone and he was replaced by The Harvester, a loan shark, drugmaker, and deal maker.

You might be wondering, why didn't I stick with the Dealmaker name. Well, it's simple. The GODS fucked it up.

Astera wasn't kidding, she made sure that every sacred text, teaching, and even on sculptures, I was there as a deer-skulled monster.

There was even a song that was warning children to not make deals with me or their souls will be devoured by me.

It was so annoying and at the same time quite funny.

I literally looked myself up in a demon lexicon and I had to concentrate not to laugh.

"The Dealmaker. Second, only to the Devil Lord, this being is at the same rank as the seven Devils representing the sins of man. He is sometimes called the Devil of Despair; he feeds on the weak and desperate, offering them what their souls most desire. If the poor bastard accepts, he will receive what he wishes but his soul will be taken by this being and turned into a horrific monster that will act as a soldier in his infernal army that he prepares for the Great War, between heaven and hell. To defeat this abomination, one must pray to the gods and angels, use weapons forged from saint silver, and..."

Jocks on them, I tested myself and it turns out holy weapons and magic, those do not work on me anymore. Yes, they do hurt, but I don't have that supper violent reaction to them.

Also, my appearance was all wrong. I didn't have animal legs, nor wings nor tail ending by a snakehead. I could pull it off, but that was not the point.

And the summoning rituals...

I could hear them right now, at the very back of my head, because it contains my name three times. I had to change the way how I responded to prayers and created my own chant so that I know if it was one of my followers who were calling for me.

They called themselves parafroms based on their religion which was known as Parafromism. These guys were the followers that no god would want. They were disorganized and outright insane, mainly composing of murderers, psychopaths, and other delightful people.

What I could gather, they were worshiping the crooked version of me, praying so that I grant their wish and accept them into my army of monsters.

True, I sometimes gave them gifts to make their beliefs stronger, but it was purely business-related.