"I don't care."
"Has nothing to do with me."
"Letting a newcomer go up alone, Lord Astarion will be angry."
"Ugh, what a hassle. When he comes back, we'll have to teach him a proper lesson."
The demon closest to the Gate of Summoning was assigned by the others and slowly walked into the glowing door.
Orobasel lazily shifted his posture.
He hadn't really moved for ten years.
He still maintaining the same position day after day.
There was a hint of amusement in Orobasel's tone as he said, "Astarion, it seems… an interesting child has arrived."
...
Woo Manyeo arrived at the crossroads first.
The surroundings were very open, like some kind of rural field.
A blue pickup truck was parked by the roadside.
He quickly scanned the area.
Unlike the heavy sulfur stench in hell earlier, he could clearly smell the scent of the soil, the exhaust from the vehicle, the fresh fragrance of wild grass by the road, and the faint aroma of wheat drifting from somewhere farther away.
He quickly checked the vehicle's license plate.
It was not the blue background with white characters he had been familiar with when he was alive.
The plate had an illustration of a spired building and full ears of wheat along with large English letters.
Was he… abroad?
That made sense.
A summoning ritual like this was something the people in Daeharin would never understand.
After all, they were a nation of atheists.
Even here, not many people probably knew how to summon demons anymore.
Otherwise, it would not have taken four years before someone finally made a summoning.
One day, sooner or later, he would bring the demon summoning ritual back to his own country!
Daeharin had a population of over two billion.
He could practically already see a vertically skyrocketing performance chart waving at him.
He habitually hyped himself up.
That was what an excellent overachiever did.
You had to know how to sell yourself your own grand vision.
"Y-you… are you a d-d-demon?"
A trembling voice filled with fear came from the field ridge by the roadside.
Woo Manyeo saw a burly man with a thick build lying by the roadside trying to hide himself, though not very successfully.
A large head was exposed and under the moonlight, the shiny crown of his balding head gleamed brightly.
The sparse strands of hair stood upright in the wind and swaying constantly along with his trembling body.
He had already sensed the man's presence the moment he came out.
It was just that he did not understand the surroundings yet, so he had not spoken rashly.
The man hiding by the roadside was Enzo.
Tonight, while drinking with his friends, he noticed that in the crack of the wall in the old tavern he often visited, there seemed to be a piece of paper stuffed inside.
Out of curiosity about what was written on it, he used a knife and fork and went through quite a bit of trouble before finally digging the paper out.