Never demonstrate anything in front of demons.

  Ever.

  Because once you do, it stops being a thing and becomes a legend.

  I stood in the middle of Zone 3, arms crossed, staring at the stove I had just—against my better judgment—fixed.

  The fme burned steadily.

  Calm. Blue. Perfectly normal.

  Which meant, of course, that everyone around it was losing their minds.

  “It breathes like a living thing!”

  “This warmth… it embraces my soul!”

  “…It’s a stove,” I muttered.

  No one heard me.

  Or rather... no one listened.

  Demons crowded closer, forming a semi-circle around the stove like it was a sacred altar. Some knelt. Some cried. One elderly demon pressed his forehead to the ground and whispered something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.

  I backed up a step. “…Charmie,” I said quietly, “how bad is this?”

  She was still kneeling, hands folded, eyes shining with absolute reverence.

  “My lord,” she whispered, “they’re witnessing history.”

  “I accidentally fixed a broken appliance.”

  “Yes,” she nodded fervently. “History.”

  I rubbed my temples.

  Behind us, whispers spread like wildfire.

  “The Demon Lord summoned fire without wood…”

  “She commanded it with a single motion…”

  “I heard she threatened the prophecy itself…”

  That st one made me pause.

  “…Threatened?” I repeated.

  Charmie beamed proudly. “You were very cool.”

  “I threatened you.”

  “Still cool.”

  The system, naturally, chose that moment to exist.

  [Announcement: Local belief in Demon Lord authority has risen significantly.]

  “That’s worse.”

  I turned back to the stove, then to the piles of human trash scattered throughout the street. Tablets. Keyboards. Broken fans. A microwave missing its dignity and its door.

  This was a ndfill. And judging by how the demons were reacting, it was the most cursed thing they’d ever seen.

  I cleared my throat loudly.

  Everyone froze.

  “Alright,” I said, raising my voice, “listen up.”

  They leaned in.

  Way too fast.

  “I didn’t purify anything,” I continued. “I didn’t cast a spell. I didn’t invoke an ancient fme god who loves mummy.”

  A few demons gasped anyway.

  “This stuff,” I gestured at the trash, “is not cursed. It’s not infected. It’s just… broken.”

  Silence.

  A young demon raised his hand.

  “…So,” he asked carefully, “the curse only activates when it breaks?”

  “No.”

  “Ah. When we touch it?”

  “No.”

  “When we look at it?”

  “No.”

  “When we eat them?”

  “…No.” I sigh.

  They nodded seriously.

  I gave up a little inside.

  “Look,” I said, sighing, “these things come from the Human Realm. They’re tools. Machines. They can be useful if you know how to fix them.”

  A murmur rippled through the crowd.

  “Fix…?”

  "Useful?!"

  “Without sacrifice?”

  “Yes. And definitely without sacrifice.”

  The elderly demon from earlier raised his head. “Not even a chicken?”

  “Especially not a chicken. A chicken is too valuable for us by the way...”

  I gnced at the stove again.

  The fme was still going.

  Steady. Warm. Comforting, even.

  A female demon stepped forward, clutching a thin bnket around her shoulders.

  “M-my lord,” she said timidly, “if… if that fire is safe…”

  “Yes?”

  “…May we warm our hands?”

  I hesitated.

  Then nodded. “Go ahead.”

  She stepped closer, holding her hands out near the stove.

  Her shoulders rexed.

  Her expression softened.

  “…It’s warm,” she whispered.

  More demons followed. Cautiously at first. Then eagerly.

  Soon, the stove was surrounded, not by worshippers, but by demons.

  Tired demons.

  Cold demons.

  Hungry demons.

  And something twisted in my chest.

  “…Damn it,” I muttered.

  Charmie noticed. “My lord?” she asked softly.

  I straightened immediately. “Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped. “I’m not having a moment.”

  She smiled anyway.

  The system, of course, documented it.

  [Announcement: Demon Lord appears contemptive.]

  “I swear,” I said, “one day I’m unplugging you.”

  [System: Unplugging action is not recommended.]

  “I wasn’t asking.”

  As the crowd settled, something else caught my attention.

  Someone was not reacting.

  Across the street, partially hidden behind a pile of scrap metal, y a figure. Ft on the ground. Completely still.

  At first, I thought they were dead. Then I noticed the slow rise and fall of their chest.

  “…Charmie,” I whispered, “is that demon sleeping?”

  She followed my gaze.

  “Oh,” she said casually. “That’s normal.”

  “…It is?”

  “Yes. Zone 3 demons sleep anywhere. Especially near warm things.”

  The figure shifted slightly, pulling a bnket tighter around themselves.

  Mint blue hair spilled out messily, covering half of her face. She didn’t stir. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t bow. Didn’t scream about holy forms or ancient fmes. She was just… asleep. Right next to the miracle stove.

  “…Interesting,” I murmured.

  Before I could move closer.

  The street erupted.

  BWOOOOOOO!!

  A horn bred somewhere in the distance.

  Demons panicked instantly.

  “INVADERS?!”

  “HUMANS?!"

  “THE FLAME ANGERED THE BORDER!”

  I spun around. “What now?!”

  A demon guard sprinted toward us, tripping over debris.

  “R-REPORTING MY LORD!” he yelled. “False, no, maybe real! There’s movement near the outer gate!”

  I blinked.

  “…Movement?”

  “Yes! Explosions! Or maybe something burned! Or possibly someone dropped something very aggressively!”

  I stared at him.

  “…So you don’t know.”

  “No, my lord!”

  BWOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

  The horn bred again. Louder.

  Charmie grabbed my sleeve. “M-my lord! Protocol demands immediate reinforcement!”

  “Protocol can wait five seconds,” I snapped. “Who triggered the arm?”

  The guard hesitated. “C-Castle sensors.”

  I froze.

  “Castle sensors...?”

  “Yes! They detected abnormal heat signatures and unauthorized fme usage!”

  I looked at the stove.

  Then at the lighter still in my hand.

  Then slowly back at the guard.

  “That was me...” I said.

  The guard paled. “Oh.”

  Another horn bst echoed. From far away, I heard shouting. Angry shouting. Very angry shouting.

  “Is that,” I said slowly, “Sparky?”

  Charmie winced. “She reacts strongly to arms.”

  The ground trembled slightly.

  I closed my eyes.

  “Of course.”

  [Announcement: Castle security responding to emergency. Arrived at Zone 3.]

  “This,” I muttered, “is what I get for inventing central heating.”

  The sleeping demon across the street didn’t move. Didn’t care.