The Seeds of Corruption and Unanswered Calls

“Ugh…”

Jeha sighed, mindlessly doodling on the paper with his pen. No matter how much he thought about it, he just didn’t feel cut out to be a proper Demon King. Here he was, having made a grand contract, yet all he could do was dwell on such useless thoughts.

If one desired to go to university, they studied. If one wished to excel in sports, they practiced. If one aspired to be a good person, they simply followed laws and order. But what exactly did one do to become a proper Demon King?

“Master?”

Zephyr carefully called out to Jeha. Their face was taut with concentration, striving to discern their master’s desires.

“Zephyr.”

“Yes, Master. Command me.”

“Have you ever defiled or corrupted a human?”

“Yes.”

Jeha stared at Zephyr, eyes wide with surprise at the swiftness of the reply.

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“How, exactly, did you defile them?”

As Jeha asked, his eyes sparkling, Zephyr grinned brightly, a joyful expression on their face, and replied, “I raped them.”

“Ra—”

Jeha’s mouth gaped open, unable to utter the full word. For a fleeting moment, an image of himself ravaging Hereis flashed through his mind. The thought of forcibly stripping away Hereis’s angelic priest’s robes made Jeha hastily try to erase it. Unaware of Jeha’s internal struggle, Zephyr excitedly continued.

“First, I stripped them from the waist down and violated their orifices for hours in front of a mirror. When shown their own messed-up reflection, a hundred out of a hundred would weep uncontrollably from shame. It’s quite a sight. After that, I would ravage them in front of their own kin, or even make their kin ravage them. The best, of course, is seeing them ravaged by dogs. By that point, humans become so desperate they just pant, with a dog’s cock inside them. And then—”

“N-no, not that!”

Jeha hastily cut off Zephyr’s words. Even just ‘dogs’ had been shocking enough. He didn’t even want to imagine what would come next.

At Jeha’s interruption, Zephyr wore an incredibly regretful expression. It was clear they had much more to say, but thankfully, they said no more.

“Is there… another way, besides that… ra—?”

Jeha asked again, somewhat relieved. He quickly added, “Something a bit lighter.”

At his added request, Zephyr mused, ‘Hmm,’ falling into thought. They knew many other methods, but finding a ‘lighter’ one seemed difficult. After a moment of contemplation, Zephyr cautiously inquired, “How light does it need to be?”

“Very! Extremely light!”

Jeha’s emphatic demand deepened Zephyr’s regretful expression. Pondering with a serious face, Zephyr slowly spoke.

“For something very light, it would be making them commit sins themselves.”

“Sins?”

“Yes, Master. Like tempting a hungry human to steal food, or to frame another human with lies and discord. Would that be light enough?”

Jeha thought for a moment, then nodded. Indeed, that seemed to fall into the lighter category.

“But would a human consider themselves truly defiled by something like that?”

“It would at least stain them slightly, wouldn’t it? And once a stain appears, it’s only a matter of time before they become completely filthy. To share an experience, I once advised a hungry boy to steal bread. The boy took my advice, stole the bread, and ate his fill. Having become a thief, the boy stole bread every day thereafter. A month later, he stole money, and then, a while after that, he struck a passerby with a stone, knocked them unconscious, and stole their money and jewelry. About a year later, he broke into a store, killed the owner and clerk, and emptied the safe.”

“……”

“By the time he was caught and hanged, that boy had killed 28 humans. And I, Master, merely offered the small advice that if he was hungry, he could just steal some bread.”

Zephyr smiled sweetly. Jeha felt a sudden urge to punch Zephyr’s smiling face. Yet, at the same time, he sensed the aura of a seasoned villain emanating from them. In truth, that was the pinnacle of villainy, a crucial element for becoming a proper Demon King.

Jeha idly rolled his pen before beginning to scribble on the paper.

* Corruption begins with small things.

He liked the idea that corruption started small. Jeha’s Demon King power was still too low to talk about grand acts of corruption.

He was contemplating the second subheading when it happened.

****

A small ripple stirred in the vicinity of his heart. Like a single droplet falling into a wide pond, the tiny ripple soon became a great wave, resounding within Jeha’s mind.

‘…Bellarossa, my contractor.’

A soft, yet powerfully sweet voice echoed in his mind, possessing an undeniable presence.

‘…Hereis?’

Jeha unconsciously murmured the name of his contractor.

It was him. He was calling him.

The seal of the contract, etched into his heart, glowed. He felt a slight warmth radiating from his chest. Jeha, as if entranced, placed a hand over his heart.

“Master?”

Paimon, noticing something amiss, called out.

“Hereis is calling me?”

Jeha said, unconsciously rising from his seat. Paimon placed a hand on Jeha’s shoulder, gently restraining him.

“Why? Shouldn’t I go since my contractor is calling me?” Jeha asked with a puzzled voice. Paimon shook their head.

“A contract is an intimate and important thing, but there is no need to journey to the human realm every single time they call. Humans are cunning beings; once you answer their summons, they will inevitably cling to you, asking for help with every trivial matter.”

“Hmm… I suppose so…”

Jeha mumbled, picking up the report he had just begun to write. Even if he were to go to his contractor now, he hadn’t decided what he would do. Moreover, for a Demon King of his stature to rush instantly at a human’s beck and call hardly seemed befitting the leader of all villains.

“Well… if it’s urgent, they’ll call again.”

With those words, Jeha settled back into his seat. He then scratched his head with the tip of his pen, lost in thought about how he could most efficiently corrupt his contractor.

****

Ultimately, Bellarossa did not answer Hereis’s summons. This plunged Hereis into profound despair.

Hereis earnestly called for Bellarossa several more times thereafter, but he never responded.

Perhaps this was what it felt like to be abandoned by God.

No, even if God were to withdraw the grace bestowed upon him right now, he wouldn’t feel such despair and emptiness.

For the first time in his life, he understood the sensation of his heart being torn asunder. It was as if his insides were melting away from sheer anxiety and longing. His chest felt hollowed out, and his soul crumbled under the weight of emptiness and desperate longing.

Bellarossa had already descended to the mortal realm in response to Hereis’s call and had readily entered into a contract with him. The contract’s seal, etched upon his heart, proved it was no illusion or dream.

But why?

Why did he repeatedly ignore Hereis’s desperate pleas?

Hereis ceaselessly recalled his memories of Bellarossa, however brief, from before he lost consciousness.

His pitch-black hair and eyes, holding the dark abyss befitting a Demon King, a vessel containing fragments of a demon god.

His soft, gentle wheat-colored skin, neither pale nor dark.

His features, subtly alien yet not so different from any human.

And entirely unlike his ordinary appearance, the pure darkness that permeated his entire being, purer than any light.

He remembered the soft, warm touch of Bellarossa’s lips during their contract kiss.

His breath.

And the intense thrill and pleasure, the ecstasy and joy, that had shaken his body and mind the moment their lips met.

Hereis savored every detail of Bellarossa, chewing over each memory and sensation.

The more he revisited those brief memories and feelings of him, the more his longing intensified.

It was a yearning so profound, so desperate, that the word ‘homesickness’ couldn’t even begin to describe it.

‘Bellarossa…’

Hereis repeated that name hundreds, thousands of times in his mind, a name he dared not utter aloud lest someone overhear. His former life, dedicated to serving and worshipping God, was now entirely consumed by thoughts of Bellarossa.

Then, a sudden realization struck him.

He meant nothing to Bellarossa.

To the Demon King, Hereis was merely one among countless humans.

The contract with Hereis was nothing more than a fleeting whim.

That realization, paradoxically, pulled Hereis from the depths of despair.

If the contract with Hereis was merely a temporary caprice, then all he had to do was provoke another one.

If Bellarossa wouldn’t answer his call, he would simply have to make it impossible for him *not* to answer.

Bellarossa, revered as the Demon King of Sloth and Corruption, the greatest among all Demon Kings.

His dark savior, who would corrupt him to the very depths of hell.

‘Bellarossa…’

Hereis whispered Bellarossa’s name in his mind and smiled sweetly.