Living in a young body was always a hassle. Imagine the predicament of an adult, with all the wisdom and cynicism of age, suddenly thrust back into the skin of a teenager. Alcohol is off limits, and romantic pursuits are hindered by the frustrating barrier of age. While my youth became significantly brighter after meeting Alina, for someone as ancient as I, connecting with the trivial anxieties of the young was a chore. In short, it was another form of hell, a symbolic one from which I had to plan my escape.
Lying on the worn out sofa of my rented studio, I could do nothing but sift through the wreckage of the past. Forming the spiritual pact with Hanako had finally begun to refill my parched magical core. Now, I needed time to adapt. I had to assess my energy reserves and understand the dividends I had gained from binding a low tier creature to my soul.
My core itched and throbbed, but I endured the discomfort with a practiced stoicism. Every wave of phantom pain meant the restoration of old, damaged channels. When I attempted to nudge this energy into its proper flow, a searing agony washed over me. It felt as if a blade had been plunged into my heart without the mercy of anesthesia.
My mind drifted back to my first days in Hell. I remembered being a seven year old boy, a simple citizen of Rome, lured away by two women. At the time, I was a leaf in the wind, guided by forces I couldn't comprehend. Those girls were elder succubi, lesser demons but clever enough to suppress their primal thirst long enough to secure a prize. They snatched me near the Forum and dragged me through a jagged rift in reality.
The memory was still vivid. I could recall the scent of sulfur choking the Roman streets and the oppressive, furnace-like heat of the underworld. I was dragged to the capital of the abyss, an endless city of black obsidian where screams were the background music of daily life.
The demon slave auctions were no place for the faint of heart. Hundreds of creatures of varying shapes and sizes gathered to bid on human flesh, which held the value of gold in Hell. Humans were luxury goods, a delicacy to be possessed. I didn't care. I stood there naked and chained, feeling as hollow as a stone statue. I was a rare beast in a zoo, staring blankly at the crowd, wondering how my story would end.
Lust and gluttony demons clashed over the right to claim me. They were drawn to the sheer volume of vital energy locked within a seven year old child. If I possessed such potential then, what could I become in the future?
"Five thousand sparks!" bellowed a bloated demon with a second mouth in his belly. A thick, slimy tongue flicked out from his stomach, tasting the air greedily.
"Seven thousand! Only I have the right to taste this one," shrieked a succubus, perhaps even a Mistress of Lust. They swarmed like wolves, trying to outbid one another. Even the incubi watched my mortal form with calculating eyes, while the demons of envy whispered dark plans to sell my services to the highest bidder.
Suddenly, the temperature in the hall plummeted below freezing. The demons froze, paralyzed by a terror so profound it silenced the entire room. It wasn't just a lull in conversation, it was the absolute absence of sound. It was as if a switch had been flipped, erasing existence itself.
She appeared on the second floor of the auction house. Lily Lemoire, the Mother of All Demons. Her presence was both lethal and intoxicating. Her white hair flowed down to her waist, and her perfect silhouette was draped in a form fitting white gown. Her face was hidden behind a snow white veil, yet one could feel the devastating beauty lurking beneath.
Her aura crushed the spirits of every demon present. The weaker ones gasped, unable to draw breath. Then she began to descend, walking on the air itself as if stepping down an invisible staircase. For the first time in my life, something stirred within my hollow chest. I felt a connection. I wanted to stand by her side, to be the guardian of a divine being who clearly needed no protection.
Ignoring the auctioneer and the rabble on stage, she stood before me. She looked at me, and her gaze didn't reflect the greedy hunger of the others. It was something deeper, something ancient. She reached out, her fingers cold yet gentle against my cheek.
"I will take him," she said.
That was the beginning of my two thousand year epic under the tutelage of the Mother of Demons. The slave brand on my soul was replaced by a new mark, starting a life filled with demonic intrigue and the brutal lessons of survival.
Lilia didn't lock me away. She gave me the run of her domain. She found tutors who taught me the nuances of Hell, how to lie with a clear conscience, how to take a life, and how to forge spiritual pacts with monsters. I walked through every circle of the abyss to prove I was worthy of being her right hand.
The first century was a gauntlet of blood, but soon my power grew at an impossible rate. When I slew the Apostle of Gluttony, a demon king who used to hunt me for sport with hellish Cerberus hounds, I claimed a new name. The Demon Prince. That was how the beasts of Hell remembered me. The only son of the Mother of Demons. The commander of the dark legions.
"My son, one day my sisters will find you. They will want you as much as I do," she would say.
She was proud of me, harboring a maternal affection that was as genuine as it was warped. She tried to shield me from the world, believing that only through hardship could I become something truly valuable.
But even as her favorite, I was still a prisoner. A golden cage is still a cage. My attempts to escape were frequent and desperate. I would be caught and brought back, only to have Lilia wag a finger and place me under house arrest. She always found me because every pact I made and every spell I cast left a spiritual fingerprint. Her seal on my soul acted as a beacon, no matter how long it took, she would always send her demons to retrieve her runaway son.
My final escape required a catastrophic price. To vanish from her sight, I had to erase my very existence from reality. I gathered every spiritual pact I had ever made, with imps, archdemons, and even a Deadly Sin, and I broke them all at once.
It was a sophisticated form of suicide. My core shattered into dozens of shards with a roar that shook the foundations of Hell. Blood poured from my lips as the power of the Demon Prince evaporated. Using the energy released from my dying core, I rewrote reality. I crafted a new mortal vessel and pierced the veil between dimensions. Because my true self had vanished from the world at age seven, reality reconciled the paradox by allowing me to live again from that age. I was the Demon Prince, yet I was also just a boy who had never stepped into the abyss.
This paradox made me invisible to Lilia's all seeing gaze. She could feel I was out there, but finding me was like trying to hit a specific grain of sand on a beach while blindfolded.
Waking up in Irkutsk without my magic, I knew I needed allies. That was why I had sent Airi to Earth shortly before my departure. She was the only one who wouldn't betray me, even after the pact was broken.
"This is unbearable!" Airi's angry shout snapped me out of my reverie.
She stood there with her hands on her hips, her beautiful face twisted in disgust.
"Zhenya, explain to me why you brought that stray cat home? While we were sleeping, she caught a pigeon and plucked its feathers right on this floor. Who do you think cleans this place?"
Hanako, sitting in the corner in her human form, let out a low hiss. She feared the succubus's wrath but didn't quite understand the offense. They were seconds away from a brawl that would wreck the room if I didn't intervene.
"Calm down, both of you," I commanded coldly, rising from the sofa. "Hanako is part of the family now. Expecting a wild beast to be tidy is like asking a demon to take ballroom dancing lessons. She needs time to adjust. Soon, her consciousness will stabilize."
I scratched Hanako behind her ears, receiving a soft purr in return, and gave Airi a look that signaled the end of the discussion.
"Fine," Airi sighed, defeated. "But if I see another feather, I'm shaving her bald and selling her at a sphinx cat show."
We needed to go legal. Hanako's nocturnal hunting would eventually attract the wrong kind of hunters. We also needed a steady income. The money from the apartment was a start, but a financial cushion was essential.
We decided on becoming freelance monster hunters. Experienced tamers were rare and often died young, making it a lucrative profession. This would allow my familiar to roam the streets legally.
"Hanako, time for a disguise," I said, snapping my fingers. "Don't bother the neighbors. Take your cute cat form."
With a cheerful meow, the girl shrunk into a soft ball of white fur. Her emerald eyes were wide and innocent. No one would believe a man eater was hiding behind such a sweet facade.
I carried her to the headquarters of the Free Hunters Guild. The building was a fortress, swarming with hunters armed with everything from assault rifles to enchanted claymores.
I sensed dozens of foreign auras as we entered. The locals tried to probe my core, assessing the fresh meat. They thought they were being subtle, but I tracked every single one of them. Instead of the weakness they expected, they found only static.
As I headed for the reception, a heavy hand slammed onto my shoulder.
"Hey, you're new too?" The boy's voice was loud and obnoxious. "I'm Dima. Dmitry Voronov. Let's be friends."
I looked back at a massive young man in black sportswear. He was grinning like he'd won the lottery. He was barely twenty but looked like a bodybuilder who had been raised from the dead.
"Let's team up. Killing monsters alone is boring," he said, offering a hand.
"Enjoy the sunset," I replied calmly.
I turned back to the desk. Dmitry just laughed at the rejection, running a hand through his hair.
"You're funny. I like you," he said, catching up and nudging me. "Most people would just say okay and then block me later."
"If I agree, will you leave me alone so I can register?" I looked him dead in the eye.
"I swear, my friend," he said, making a symbolic gesture.
"Evgeny Krivtsevich. Take the number," I said.
Dmitry's eyes lit up as he recorded the contact. "Great! Once you're done, let's go chop some goblin heads."
"Yes, now please, just go away."
I finally reached the check in desk where a polite receptionist greeted me.
"Name and specialty, please."
"Evgeny Krivtsevich. Tamer," I answered.
The girl paused, her fingers hovering over the keys. "A tamer? Do you understand the risks? Most tamers don't live to see their first contract through. Either the beast eats them, or the familiar drains their energy in the first fight."
I suppressed a smile. If only she knew what kind of beings used to wag their tails for me. "I know. I already have my pet."
She shrugged and resumed typing. At that moment, the front doors swung open and a woman stepped in. Her movements were sharp, her gaze predatory. She had long white hair tied in a ponytail and twin curved daggers at her belt.
"Volkova!" she shouted to a tall woman with a facial scar descending the stairs. "Why was I sent to the sewers? I know I can't swing a sword there, but show some respect."
"Calm down, Kuznetsova," Volkova replied in a commanding tone. She scanned the room and her eyes settled on me. "You're just in time. New task. Evaluate the recruit."
The girl, Margo, looked at me and sighed in annoyance. "Am I a babysitter now? Where's Oleg? This is his job."
"It's an order, Kuznetsova," Volkova said coldly. "Check the recruit and I'll forget about your stunt last week. Refuse, and you can pack your bags."
Margo clenched her fists, then grunted and crossed her arms. "Fine. But if he gets hurt, it's on you." She turned to me. "So, Tamer? Where's your beast? Show me your little monster."
I snapped my fingers. Hanako leaped from my arms and shifted into her true form. Margo laughed dismissively.
"Seriously? A Nekomata? What are you, some kind of pervert? Why else would you make that your familiar?"
"Your opinion is irrelevant to me," I replied icily.
"When are you going to show your strength, you bully of beginners?"
She gnashed her teeth and led us to the training arena, a reinforced room scarred by previous battles.
"The rules are simple," announced a man named Oleg. "Fight until first blood or a surrender. Magic is allowed, but killing is forbidden. Start."
Margo didn't wait. She blurred into motion, a silhouette of lethal speed. Her daggers flew through the air, aimed not at me, but at Hanako.
I didn't move. Instead, I focused on the bond. I felt my life force surge into Hanako. Her eyes glowed emerald and electricity crackled through her fur. She intercepted the daggers with impossible speed and was at Margo's throat in a heartbeat. Her claws pressed against the girl's skin. One wrong move, and Margo would bleed out.
"What?" Margo gasped, fear creeping into her voice for the first time.
Hanako didn't finish her. She merely hissed a mockery, licked the girl's cheek, and retreated.
"So, what do you think of the 'useless' Nekomata now?" I asked, stepping closer. "By the way, you're a great fighter. You handle your harpy bloodline well, but you yielded to the second one."
"The second?" the girl stammered. "What do you mean?"
I leaned in and whispered into her ear. "For someone who hates Nekomatas so much, you have a lot in common with those monsters. It's quite suspicious."
I stepped back, hands behind my head, and walked away. She stood there, frozen in confusion. Dual bloodlines were supposed to be myths, but unique individuals often hid their true nature.
"The test is passed," Volkova announced with a nod of approval. "Evgeny Krivtsevich, you are admitted to the Free Hunters. Your rank is F. You showed skill, but what good is it if you collapse from exhaustion in five minutes? You and your familiar have potential."
She handed me a cold, heavy metal badge with a large 'F'. Kuznetsova watched me as I left, finally finding her voice.
"You just got lucky."
Even she knew how pathetic it sounded. I walked out, Hanako trailing behind me in her cat form, both of us ready for the real hunt to begin.