One Silver Coin For a Pound of Demon

Chapter 13

Draft
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Your mind is in chaos.

You know how to treat demons, you know how to treat humans. Your behavior is impeccable, and your etiquette is perfect. Your world's made up of flat rules, observing them is your way of life, your life's path, and this path had collapsed in a corner.

177, Lemuel. What is he¹? Who is he? If he's a human being then your world that you've built by "following the rules" has been disturbed like a rigorous machine gone wrong. It didn't need much disruption, just a wire, thrown in between those perfectly lined mechanical parts; it was enough to make the apparatus fall apart. Everything went wrong, everything went wrong, you made a mistake, you felt great fear.

The resulting fruit of evil².

The voice is like your father's, any of all of your other teachers, and sister and brothers in the church. There'll be the resulting fruit of evil! The magnificent voice resounds in your head, like the voice of end. You don't know what the fruit of evil is. You can't remember what their warnings are at first, you were too young at that time. In fact, you couldn't imagine what aspect of the fruit of evil could even make you afraid. Yet now you're panicked and at a loss, like a computer running the wrong program. This is wrong, you mustn't violate it... This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong.

"Oh my God, good priest, what's the matter with you?"

You raise your head in a daze and saw Mrs. Lynch's concerned face.

You had unknowingly wandered a few streets and found yourself at Mrs. Lynch's grocery store. The 70-year-old lady lives alone and always suffers from insomnia, she'll open shop early in the mornings the illness strikes her. Bustling in the early hours of the day, she's obviously suffering from insomnia again.

"I'm seeking God's guidance." You say, grudgingly smiling at her.

Mrs. Lynch's a devout believer, a kind and good person. She humbles and asks you warmly, entering the shop and making a cup of hot tea for you. The hard cardboard is put into your hands. You thank her, mechanically taking the cup and a sip.

Salty, it doesn't feel like hot tea, but more like some kind of instant soup. Mrs. Lynch is talking about her secret soup, the trick's cream and pepper. "You who serve the Lord should pay more attention to your body!" She says, "There's been more and more villains holding blasphemous intentions towards the material³, people like you who are devout..."

Drink some hot soup, take a bath, go to sleep. Tomorrow, everything will get better.

Your stomach begins to cramp again and you can't drink at all. While holding your cup, you suddenly interrupt, cutting off Mrs. Lynch's chatter.

"Will half-blood demons born to humans be a human?" You ask.

"Of course not!" Mrs. Lynch answered without hesitation, "How could the bloodline of damned devils be considered human?"

"But," You say dryly, "If they were born like a human, and grew up in a human society, should they be treated as such?"

Mrs. Lynch looks at you worriedly, like she's wondering if you had broken your head somewhere. She sees your pale face, her expression softens.

"Good priest, you're still young after all." She says lovingly. "Now, the army's fighting with all their strength. They've blocked the demons in the south, so the young people today don't even know what demons look like. Ridiculous! When I was young, demons ran around, raping, and looting everywhere..."

Her voice sank, and her ever kind and amiable face becomes hardened.

"At that time, everyone knew that the devil's seed will also be a devil, no matter whom it was born from. The farmers had bad luck, and any cow or sheep that became pregnant had to be slaughtered. The devil can't be born or it'll eat people! I used to live in a village further south, the fire in the village square was lit every day. Fortunately, the newly-born demons were afraid of fire." Mrs. Lynch said, shaking her head, "Those poor women, alas, they screamed so miserably, I still dream of that voice to this day."