One Silver Coin For a Pound of Demon

Chapter 5

Draft
____

At six in the morning, you go to the bathroom to look at 177. It woke up when you opened the bathroom door. You say "good morning" to it, but it still doesn't speak, watching you walk in and out alertly. After you wash up and say your morning prayers, you go to water the garden.

"Good morning, priest!" a passerby would say to you, "God, what's wrong with your face?"

"Good day, Mr/Miss" You will reply, "It's alright, just a nervous guest. "

They will nod solemnly, praise your golden heart, condemn irresponsible parents and owners, and declare that they would donate to the orphanage/shelter. Conversations that morning ended quickly, it was a working day and everyone was in a hurry.

After watering the garden, you start your morning exercise, and after your morning exercise, you go to the bathroom and take a shower. 177 stares at you from the bathtub, your residence doesn't have a second bathroom or shower curtain, it can only stare.

After finishing your shower, breakfast would be ready. You eat it quickly in just a few minutes. When you walk to the door it's exactly 7:30, this is the time you go to work every day.

Today is a Monday, a public holiday for all priests. You walk through a dilapidated garden, a half-covered abandoned residential area, and through a relatively lively street, walking into a nearby supermarket that sells canned devil. You go to the discount area to buy daily necessities that you didn't buy yesterday, you take them to the checkout with the canned devil.

The cashier greets you warmly, addressed the wound on your face, and beamed with joy when she learned that you weren't going to church today. "Are you resting today? Great!" She said, "You should have some private time!"

This small town isn't an important place. The priests here could actually rest three or four days a week. That's what the previous priest did, no one would complain. After you came, the residents of the town were amazed at your year-round dedication. Some of them, such as the woman in front of you, even worried about you. "You're so kind and selfless, you should leave yourself some time!" they would say.

You've never understood what this so-called lack of personal time was. There's only one priest of the church here, the church doesn't pay attention to this village, you only need to report once a year. No one orders and supervises you, haven't you been spending "private time" all this time? However, since they all say so, this must be some kind of conventional concept. You won't ask strange questions, you just smile, thank them for their concern, and tell them that everything is fine.

It's not that you will always work hard, you will occasionally stay at home when there are things in the house that needs to be taken care of urgently. You put the canned devil on the cashier counter, and the cashier babbles to you while scanning the can. The older woman is one of the conservatives who protested against canned demons a few years ago. She probably didn't pay attention to what you bought, or she did, but quickly came up with a reasonable explanation.

In short, you bought the canned food. You walk home with a bulging eco-bag, you walk into the bathroom and see 177 lying on the edge of the bathtub with a bored expression. You notice that there are new bruises on its body, they were marks left by tightening the shackles greatly. It seemed that when you left, it wasn't as idle as it was now. You think it's much more energetic compared to yesterday's dying look, which is very gratifying.

You walk out of the bathroom again, put the other things away, and open the canned demon in front of the kitchen window. As soon as the can was opened, you found what the "please open in a ventilated place" meant. How was the smell? At least the smell of this thing was the same as that of the slogan. It smells like a new corpse or an open wound that has begun to decompose. You feel a little nostalgic.