Ah yes, the human race. A fragile species bound to a fragile world. Their planet wouldn’t last a second if I unleash even a fraction of my true strength. I exhale slowly, the temptation to crush them passing as quickly as it comes. Destruction is far too simple. No, this is different. I can manipulate the results, deceive the others on the Council—even Astaroth himself. But lie to myself? No. I can’t ignore the pull of my own decision. Earth it is.

  But really, what is the point of visiting Earth if I can’t indulge in a little chaos? What kind of vacation is that? I scoff at the notion as I flick my hand, conjuring the magical screen before me. Earth, as always, flickers to life on the surface, its image sharp and vibrant. I have watched this planet more times than I can count—from its fiery beginnings to the rise of these humans. Pathetic creatures, driven by their short lives and reckless ambitions.

  Still, I have to give them credit. They are good customers—summoning demons, performing rituals, always hungry for more power. But they don’t know the truth. They never do. The demons they revere? Pawns. The gods they fear? My subordinates. Their entire existence? A game for me to play. What can Earth possibly offer me but boredom? I think, my eyes glazing over the screen. And yet, as I continue to observe, something odd catches my attention.

  There, sitting on a park bench, is a human couple—engrossed in a kiss. I’ve witnessed human intimacy many times before, similar to how demons indulge in pleasure with succubi, but this? This is different. The male isn’t dominating her, isn’t claiming what should rightfully be his. His touch is gentle, his kiss soft. There is no aggression. No power.

  Where’s the domination? I think, my curiosity piqued. Am I missing something?

  "Disgusting, right, my lord?" a familiar voice breaks into my thoughts, its tone tinged with amusement. I turn to see one of the old wizards from the Council, draped in his archaic robes, standing beside me, his withered face twisted in a knowing grin.

  "Love is such a wicked thing!" he cackles.

  "Love?" I repeat, almost confused. "Isn’t this act supposed to be lust?"

  The wizard chuckles again, his eyes gleaming with the knowledge of an old sage. "Ah, my lord, it’s not so simple. According to the teachings of Lord Asmodeus, there is a distinction. He teaches us to recognize the look of pure lust—and how it differs from genuine love."

  Asmodeus—Lord of Lust. I have heard much of him but have yet to meet him since taking my seat at the gates of Hell. There are whispers that he no longer resides in our realm. I think over the word again. Love. A concept foreign and utterly ridiculous for demons. And yet, the old wizard speaks of it with such conviction.

  "I thought demons couldn’t feel love," I mutter, more to myself than him.

  The wizard nods slowly. "Few can, my lord, but yes. Love exists among us, though not in the way humans feel it. It’s… difficult to explain. Even Lord Lucifer, should he choose, can create such emotions within himself. However, for someone as powerful as him, emotions like that are useless." The wizard pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing his wrinkled face. "Love is a power beyond brute force—it cannot simply be summoned."

  I raise an eyebrow. “Create emotions? More difficult than destroying a sun? Than triggering a hypernova?”

  He smiles faintly, as though reading my thoughts. "Physical destruction is an act of strength. Love, however, is intangible… elusive… far more complex."

  As he speaks, my attention returns to the couple. The kiss has ended, and now the woman is offering the man a meal she has packed. They sit together, laughing softly. Disgusted, I turn away. But part of me—against all logic—remains… curious.

  "Why have you come, Wizard of the Council?" I ask, my voice cold. "State your name and your purpose."

  "Mal'Zheroth, my lord," the wizard says with a bow. "Lord Astaroth has requested that you take a break. The Council believes it is best for you to… refresh yourself. We will manage in your absence."

  A break? I have no need for such trivialities. Yet, I find myself intrigued.

  "I will go to Earth," I declare.

  "Y-Yes, my lord—whaaat?" Mal'Zheroth’s eyes widen in shock, his composure faltering as he chokes on his words.

  "You heard me," I say, dismissing him with a wave. "I’ll depart in ten minutes. Inform the others."

  As Mal'Zheroth hurries away, I allow myself a moment of reflection. What exactly am I planning to do on Earth? The answer gnaws at me, slowly transforming from a mere thought to a compulsion.

  "I will go to find love," I whisper, chuckling at the absurdity of my words. Love? No, that isn’t it. Perhaps a few experiments with human females—yes, that makes more sense. Satisfying my curiosity will be enough.

  Summoning the screen once more, I watch the humans closely, narrowing my focus. "Who will be the lucky one?" I muse, searching through countless faces. After narrowing down the candidates by status and lifestyle, I conjure a spinning hologram of Earth. With a flick of my hand, I throw a dart, striking my chosen location. Murasaki Hikōki.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Perfect.

  I need a place to stay. Wealth will attract attention, and I need to blend in. Play the human game, I remind myself. Friday will be the day I approach her. My objective is clear: act human. No powers, no manipulation—just a game to kill the boredom.

  When I open my eyes again, I am standing on Earth in my human form. This city—her city—is a dull blend of gray concrete and flickering lights. The air is cold, biting against my skin, much harsher in this form. Testing my limits, I run, reaching speeds of 60 km/h. But after a mere ten minutes, exhaustion hits me, and I stumble, crashing into the pavement. My body—a fragile, human shell—screams in pain, bones snapping. But regeneration quickly kicks in, bones mending themselves.

  As I approach the apartment, a drunk man staggers toward me. "Hey, kid! Have you seen my whiskey?" he slurs, waving a bottle around.

  I ignore him, but he continues to follow, mumbling nonsense. Humans… so pathetic. I sigh, resisting the urge to lash out.

  "Stop following me, or you’ll regret it," I warn.

  "Respect your elders!" he mumbles.

  I snap my fingers, and he collapses on me and I lay him on the floor. “I must act human,” I smirk and continue my path. A group of thugs appears, circling the unconscious man. One of them grins, pulling a knife. "Didn’t your grandpa teach you respect?" he directs his look at me.

  My patience wears thin. I could crush his skull right now. But no, I have to play the part.

  "Do what you want," I mutter, turning away and running as they rob the old man. Act human and escape as a human.

  I quicken my pace, reaching the apartment with ease. Running only 30 km/h this time, I feel the exhaustion creeping in again, but I press on.

  Finally, I stand before the apartment door, scanning the surroundings for any witnesses. The hallway is empty, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning. I smirk. Perfect. This will be easy.

  With a quick glance around, I prepare to use my abilities to unlock the door, my fingers grazing the handle. Just as I start to concentrate, the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoes up the stairwell. My heart skips a beat. I tense but quickly remind myself to stay calm. Act natural.

  I straighten up, casually turning toward the horizon outside the nearby window, pretending to admire the evening glow as if I have every reason to be here. The footsteps grow louder until a figure emerges from the stairs—a woman.

  Our eyes meet. In that fleeting moment, a subtle jolt of awareness passes between us. A girl with red hair and formal clothes. Her Blue eyes seem to question me, her pace slowing as she approaches. Does she live next door? The thought flickers briefly, but I shove it aside. Getting involved with a stranger is the last thing I need.

  I let my expression remain neutral, indifferent even, and I sever eye contact, breaking the silent tension between us. My fingers tighten around the door handle, and with a subtle application of my powers, the lock clicks open. She lingers for a second longer, watching, as if trying to read something in my demeanor, but I offer nothing. Ignore her.

  Without hesitation, I slip inside, the door closing quietly behind me. The warmth of my new home envelops me, the air thick with silence. I exhale slowly, leaning against the door for a brief moment, thoughts swirling. Whoever she is, it doesn’t matter. She sees nothing. As far as she knows, I’m just another tenant moving in.

  But still… there is something about the way she looks at me, like she knows.

  No. I shake the thought away. I can’t afford to get distracted, not now.

  Few days happened, and days blur together as I continue my observation. The magic TV, my reliable window into humanity, is useless for tracking her now. Murasaki Hikōki hasn’t made a pact with any demon, nor is she anywhere near death’s door. My usual channels for understanding mortals fail me, and it irks me more than I care to admit. I sigh.

  “I know her house spot, but I do not know which way she will take to lead home, and I can’t wait outside school, I will be restrained by looking suspicious,” I think, leaning back against the couch.

  But what should I do in the meantime? “Perhaps… I should perfect my appearance,” I muse. Yes, the perfect human male—one that will draw her in without effort. I spend hours watching human celebrities and male models, analyzing their movements, their voices, and their smiles. I adjust my form slightly—just enough to blend in, to seem alluring but not supernatural. Not yet, at least.

  Days pass without incident. I keep my distance, allowing the monotony of Earth life to wash over me. Until, one night, a scream pierces the quiet of the building, its intensity cutting through my senses.

  “What now?” I mutter, irritated.

  The sound comes from the apartment next door. The girl from the other day, my neighbor. The idea of police arriving to find any culprit for the scream and then finding me—an illegal tenant—is an inconvenience I don’t need.

  “Eureka!” I grin, realizing this could be an opportunity to demonstrate "human" valor. A little self-defense—boxing or karate, perhaps—will look perfectly reasonable when the attacker is lying on the ground, broken and defeated by my hands.

  I open my door and step out into the hallway, the echoes of the scream still fresh in my ears. No more sounds come from her apartment, which means one thing—the intruder has likely silenced her. Covering her mouth, most likely. A typical move. My senses sharpen, tuning in to every detail. What would a human do in this situation?

  Breaking down the door might seem heroic, but with my physique, it will raise suspicion. I could call the police, but that will only lead to my arrest—illegally occupying an apartment tends to raise unwanted questions. No, something more subtle is required. I knock on the door.

  I can hear her pulse, steady but quickening. No sounds of a struggle. If something is off, I will know it. If she is lying, I will hear it. When the door creaks open, I am met with a sight that is almost comical.

  The girl stands there, babbling nervously, her head tilted down as though in apology. She is fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Her words are sincere, no deception in her voice or her heartbeat. The whole situation is ridiculous. I stare at her for a moment, and she looks back at me, eyes wide and unsure.

  An awkward conversation will follow if I linger—of that, I am certain. So, without a word, I turn on my heel and walk away, retreating to the comfort of my apartment.

  As I enter my apartment, I try to change my focus to Hikōki. “Two more days,” I mutter to myself once I am alone again. “Then I will study to watch the different paths of where she will lead to. Two more days, and I’ll confess my love to Hikōki.” I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of my own words.

  “Love?” I chuckle, the idea as foreign to me as peace in a demon’s heart. “Ridiculous.”

  I return to my seriousness, shedding the fleeting amusement.

  "If my calculations are correct, she’ll take the route towards Muse Park," I murmur. “Predictable.”

  The patterns are clear. Humans, despite their supposed complexity, often fall into repetitive routines to avoid extra work. Murasaki Hikōki is no different. That day will be no exception. She will walk through that park.

  “It’s only a matter of time,” I whisper, leaning back in my chair, eyes locked onto the screen. The game is set, and I am ready to act when the moment is right. All the pieces are falling into place.

  Mal'Zheroth

  - Wizard of the council

  - no favorite food

  -Height in hell - 8 meters