“Shocking News: Over 100 men are dead, and 1 noble is dead. These events happened late last night after a raid on a slave market. The witness on the scene said they only remember that their face looked like a demon’s and yelled these words: "We are the Devil and Here to Do the DEVIL’S WORK.” The location of these two people is unknown, and no slaves have been found at this time. If you have any information on the location of these men or any of the slaves, please contact your local authorities, and do not make contact with these people; they are dangerous,” said the newspaper.

  Sir Albert placed down his paper and took a sip of coffee.

  “The game has begun... The Devils have made their first move. It’s time for a new era for this country, an era of freedom and possibilities for all. It is time to destroy these walls we have built up, and the Devils will be how it happens. Now, how would you react, King Alexander, my old friend?” said Sir Albert.

  Around the same time, a 28-year-old man with blonde hair sat on top of a golden throne. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess. A shorter man with red hair knelt in front of the gold-haired man.

  “Over 100 men are dead, and you are saying it was done by only two people. Who are these people, and why are they doing this?” said King Alexander.

  “They may be trying to start a revolution, or they may be trying to distract us from the war with Shinrinyoku. They may have had a vendetta against one of the nobles.” Williams, the king's advisor, said,

  “They may be trying to destroy the slave trade in this country. If so, I think I must thank them.” King Alexander chuckled.

  “Sir, you can’t possibly say something like that. What if someone overheard you say that without context? A powerful nobleman died last night.” Williams said.

  “Yes, I know Williams, but I've been trying to destroy the slave market for years, and if this does help with changing the minds of the nobles, then I wouldn’t be too upset. Tell the men who are looking for these two men to try and take them alive if the soldiers can. I want to ask them a few questions,” said King Alexander.

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  “Yes, My King.”

  “And set up a meeting with Sir Albert. I have a few things to discuss with my old friend.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Hm, I do wonder just who you are, Mr. Devil,” said the King.

  A few hours before the King and Sir Albert read the paper about the night raid, back at the Devil's camp, the mage used a spell to clean our clothes. Damn, only 13 rounds left. Well, we were able to do a few more night raids that didn’t end in over 100 deaths, but I still used three more rounds, leaving me with 10. My legs feel like damn jelly. These days, all I do is walk and kill. One is boring, and the other leads to damnation. When these are the only things you do from morning till morning, you feel pretty damn exhausted too. I’m also starting to worry about the effects of killing other people. I’m wondering whether or not I'm becoming a monster or the Devil himself.

  I’m beginning to wonder whether or not I’m going to be able to live the life I had on Earth. I start to look up and see this huge castle in the distance. We finally made it to the royal capital; it only took two weeks, and over a hundred people died. When we made it up the mountain where the city sits, we saw there was a wall and a few armed guards checking everyone who entered. Celeste passed each of us an adventurer card that said the name of our party and our names. The name on the card was not the band of the Devils; it was the band of the Hawks. That scared me shitless, thinking I was going to lose my arm and scream, Griffith!

  “Where did you get the name Band of the Hawks from?” I said.

  “Oh, Sir Albert said when I made these that I should call our group something different than Band of the Devil. Some people believe that hawks represent freedom, and all we do is roam the land freely. I’m happy he said that because two fools are running around in demon masks, killing and stealing people. And we don’t want to have anything to do with people like that, right?” she said in a mocking tone.

  “Yeah, sure,” I said.

  Ever since the bloodbath we caused, Celeste hasn’t asked whether or not Miyamoto and I were the Masked Devil, but we were pretty sure that she knew. The fact we were always covered in blood and came back to camp at the ass crack of dawn didn’t help either. Celeste never pried into it or asked us whether or not it was true, so we never said anything. As we walked up to the castle, I started to talk to Celeste.

  “Why join the Devils? I mean the party consists of two 32-year-old men and a young child who rides on top of a dog. I mean, you’re free to do whatever; it just seems a bit odd,” I said.

  “Well, V, like I said before, my friends were traumatized by the events that happened after our first adventure, and you said I was welcome to join you guys, so I did just that. I wanted to learn from people I believed to be strong and competent,” Celeste said.

  “I’m not sure about strong or competent, but I do promise you that I will teach you a thing or two about life.”

  “I know you make jokes so much, V., you never want to get close to people. Always one foot out. All I’m saying is, don’t put yourself down too much.”

  Oh, kid, you don’t know how many times I’ve been told that. How many times have I been told not to shoulder the world or to talk out about my feelings? Just like how you never hear these words, I’m thinking to myself, and you probably never see a change in this old bastard.