"Sigh…"

A heavy sigh echoed through the tiny rented room.

Sadao Maou—once the Demon King Satan—sat there in a cheap T‑shirt emblazoned with the "MgRonald" logo, gloomily poking at the last few strands of pickled vegetables in his bowl.

"Ashiya, do you think we should hit the convenience store tomorrow and see if any expiring rice balls are on clearance?

Just pickles every day—my Demon‑King stomach is about to revolt."

Alsiel, Grand General of the Demon Army, currently living under the alias Shirō Ashiya, pushed his black‑rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. His face was as grave as if he were directing a campaign to decide the very fate of demonkind.

"My lord, please endure a little longer.

There are still three days until payday. I've crunched the '47‑3' budget again: what we have left is only enough for the bare‑minimum carbs and salt necessary to keep us breathing."

"Discount rice balls… are regrettably outside the plan."

He paused, then added, "Also, the last installment on the air‑conditioner is due tomorrow. If we miss it, they'll repossess the unit."

"Ahhh—the A/C!"

Sadao clutched his head in agony.

"That thing is my lifeline! I'll die without it!"

He could already picture himself shriveling into a salted fish in this steamy little room.

While the two of them stared at the empty dishes and the ominous payment notice for the A/C—and even toyed with the idea of "camping" on a park bench for a night to save electricity—

BOOM!

A thunderous crash!

Something heavy slammed through the ceiling and landed hard on the tatami, shaking their entire "Demon King Castle" three times.

Even the precious second‑hand air‑conditioner let out a tortured groan.

"Enemy attack?!"

Ashiya reacted instantly, springing forward to shield Sadao with a defensive stance; a cold gleam flashed across his lenses.

Sadao jumped so hard he nearly upended the pickle bowl onto his own head.

When the dust settled, they saw a human‑shaped dent in the tatami.

Lying in the pit was… something vaguely person‑shaped?

The figure was a wreck—clothes in tatters, caked with dust and dried blood.

Worst of all was the face: the bridge of the nose flattened, cheekbones grotesquely swollen, eyes purple‑black. It was as puffed up and multi‑coloured as an over‑fermented bun.

Only the long, chaotic, yet stubbornly purple hair provided the slightest hint of identity.

"Uu… uwaa… Ma… Maou‑sama…"

The "unknown object" groaned, the sound thin and leaky like a broken bellows.

It strained to lift its head, peering at Sadao through eyes swollen to narrow slits, tears mixing with blood and snot.

"Help… me… please…"

Sadao and Ashiya traded looks; each saw utter shock and confusion in the other's eyes.

That voice… the purple hair… and that form of address—

"Lu… Lucifer?!"

They blurted it out in unison.

"Lucifer? What are you doing here? I thought you were dea—"

Sadao pointed at the crumpled heap, but the rest of his sentence jammed in his throat.

Because right beside Lucifer, the air rippled like water.

A boy in a crisp school uniform stepped casually out of the void and landed neatly in the cramped room.

It was Rei Ao.

"I brought him," Ling Qing said, brushing nonexistent dust from his hands, voice calm.

Thud.

Thud.

The instant Sadao and Ashiya saw Rei Ao, it felt as if an invisible hand had squeezed their hearts.

Cold sweat soaked their backs in a flash.

Why is he here?

Did that idiot Lucifer provoke this walking disaster?

Rei Ao's gaze drifted over the bare‑bones room: peeling walls, creaking tatami, cardboard boxes in the corner holding all their worldly possessions, a lonely bowl of pickles on the table, and the second‑hand A/C wheezing like it might quit any second.

"Tsk."

He arched a brow, half amused.

"So this is the standard of living for the Demon King's army?

Truly… touching in its austerity."

His eyes fixed on Sadao.

"Maou, is this what you meant by 'lying low and biding your time'?"

Sadao snapped out of his shock, sweating even harder.

A stiff, fawning grin spread across his face; he rubbed his hands together and bowed slightly.

"Ah‑ha‑ha… R‑Rei Ao‑dono! What an honor to have you drop by!

This is all a huge misunderstanding—honestly!

We've been model citizens, working hard, never causing trouble. Right, Ashiya?"

He shot frantic signals to Ashiya. Googlᴇ search noveⅼfire.net

Ashiya bowed an impeccable ninety degrees, like a textbook on proper etiquette.

"Indeed, Rei Ao-sama! The Demon—pardon, Mr. Maou—speaks the absolute truth.

We toil diligently every day, pay our taxes on time, treat everyone with kindness, and would never dare step out of line. Please see our sincerity!"

Just moments ago they'd been lamenting over pickles and A/C payments—now it was as if that had happened to someone else.