Chapter 13: Demonic Temptations and Tangled Lies
“…Damn bitch.”
In the stark white space, the red-haired demon spat out curses endlessly.
“Filthy bitch, trashy bitch, demonic bitch… Wait, isn’t that a compliment?”
Rolling on the floor, the demon vented her frustration.
“So what’s the second thing sentient beings hate most?! Finish what you started!”
Fuming with pent-up anger, the demon unleashed hellfire, setting the white space ablaze. Unable to tolerate this, the space began constricting her.
“Fine… I’ll leave! I’ll just vent outside!!!”
She opened the door to escape the shrinking space, returning her consciousness to the real world.
In human form, she gazed out a window at a corpse-like woman and muttered.
“I’ll drag you to hell myself. A talent like you is exactly what hell needs.”
How many could enrage an archdemon with a single remark? Across all dimensions, probably a handful.
“You’re the second to piss me off with words, you rampaging soul. Screw vacation—I should drag you to hell now.”
Then, a promising target caught her eye.
“Hmm… That human will do.”
A man on a motorcycle entered an alley, brimming with negative emotions—perfect kindling for a crime with just a spark of demonic power.
“Ugh, this dimension’s humans are so disgustingly good and just. Finding talent like this is too hard.”
Transforming into a cat, the demon poured all her hellish power into the deliveryman. He paused, then turned from his destination toward a truck.
“So inefficient. In another dimension, I’d turn him into a demon-worshipping, amoral killing machine. Here, he’s just a criminal at best. Tsk tsk.”
Watching the deliveryman grab something from the truck, the demon grinned gleefully.
“Let’s see if that trash can withstand this trial. No way, right? She’ll be killed by tonight and join me in hell for a fun trip.”
—
Why is this happening?
I’ve always had negative emotions, but now they’re uncontrollable.
“…Something’s off. No one’s egging me on, so why do I keep wanting to hurt someone?”
Did I eat something bad? No, I stick to a strict diet. Food wouldn’t cause this.
What’s this feeling? Like a drug addict’s high—floating.
“Right… I’ll rest in the truck. I arrived early, so I’ve got time.”
Shaking off the rising malice, I headed to the truck, sat, and closed my eyes to calm down.
But the malice kept eroding my reason.
<Destroy> <Violate> <Kill>
A seductive voice echoed in my ears. Sensing danger, I decided to drop the package and head somewhere isolated.
As I stepped out to leave the package, I instinctively rang the doorbell.
Ding dong.
“…I need to get out of here.”
If someone answers, I don’t know what I’ll do. Signing for the package isn’t the priority.
I might actually get violent if someone appears.
But despite my reason urging me to leave, my body stayed rooted. The homeowner opened the door.
Contrary to my fear of committing a crime, when she appeared, all negative emotions vanished.
Her dry, waist-length black hair made her look too weak to care for it. Her skin, paler than a movie zombie, made me question if she was alive.
That wasn’t all. Her unfocused eyes seemed devoid of life’s will, and dark circles reaching her cheeks hid how wretched her life must be.
Seeing her, I had a rude thought.
‘No matter how unhappy my life is, it’s better than hers, right?’
As my negative emotions faded, positive ones filled the void. Then, her heavy mouth opened cautiously.
“…Who are you?”
“Haha, delivery. Are you Seol Ji Yeon?”
“That’s me.”
“Need your signature. Is that okay?”
“No problem.”
She spoke indifferently, signed quickly, and held out her hand for the package.
“Signed, so can I have it?”
“Oh… Sorry. Here it is. Have a great day.”
“You too. And I’m not sick, so no need to call the safety center.”
“…Got it.”
Concerned for her corpse-like appearance, I greeted her unusually, but she smiled like it was routine.
Watching her accept my greeting, I thought carefully.
Is she really not sick? Or just saying not to worry? I couldn’t understand.
“How can she smile looking that sick? How positive must she be?”
I don’t know. I can’t even guess.
I felt ashamed of my life, envying others with negative emotions. I should’ve been grateful for the little things. Was I too greedy? How much must she envy what others have?
“Alright, from today, I’ll live gratefully. My life’s still livable.”
Thanking her in my heart, I got in the truck. The seductive voice that tormented me let out a final curse and vanished.
<Damn bastard, after all I poured in.>
—
“Are you Seol Ji Yeon?”
Honestly, I was terrified going to get the package.
A huge guy with a massive box glared at me fiercely. If he’d come at night, I’d have wet myself.
But he soon smiled and asked for my signature.
“Need your signature. Is that okay?”
Seeing his warm smile, I reflected on my mistake.
‘Don’t judge by appearances.’
My look makes people think I’m dying, don’t they?
I look sick enough to cause misunderstandings, but as someone who’s experienced it, I found my own thoughts amusing and laughed.
“No problem.”
Signing on his device, I kept worrying.
He won’t report me to the police or safety center like the last guy, right? That’d be a hassle.
Paramedics handle me too roughly, and police are too annoying.
Both prevent me from eating properly, bringing tasteless porridge instead.
Wanting neither, I cautiously spoke to the leaving deliveryman.
“I’m not sick, so no need to call the safety center.”
He nodded with a complex expression, and I realized my appearance made my words unconvincing.
After he left, I brought the package inside and resumed writing.
“Almost 3,000 words… Time to revise and eat dinner?”
[Getting takeout and risking a report again?]
“I can’t starve, can I? Gotta take the risk.”
[Fair, you chose to look like that… Like you said, take the risks.]
“I’ll say it again, I didn’t choose my gender.”
[Dissatisfied?]
“…Honestly, I don’t know.”
If the god had made me a frail pretty boy, I’d likely live the same way, so my initial complaints have lessened.
“Whatever, I’ll get used to it. This frail look and being a woman.”
[That’s wise.]
I ordered malatang via a delivery app, resumed finishing the chapter, and jotted down the next story idea.
The scary deliveryman I just met.