Chapter 0 – Flames

On the day the hero defeated the demon king and saved the world, I was beaten by my master. Fanfare and fireworks shone through the cracks in the windows and colored my face, but I fell to the floor and had to rub my sores.

“Hooray, warrior! Long live the warrior!”

Everything was someone else’s business after all. Whether the so-called warriors marched for defeating the demon king, or our master failed to enter the capital and had to remain in this corner of the country were all someone else’s business.

But always, misfortune came because of someone else’s work.

It was like that today too. Because the hero defeated the demon king and demanded his rights, the hero’s relatives and family became officials of the kingdom. So our master could not return to the capital this time either. It was because the few letters written by the demoted official were weaker than the certificate of kinship as the hero’s cousin.

So the master hit me today. I rubbed my bruised forehead and looked out the window. Today, due to my master’s anger, I had to reflect in this dark and damp attic.

The rats squeaked and the straw smelled wet and rotten. When I woke up after a night’s sleep, the smell of dampness permeated my body, and everyone avoided me, and my master punched me again because I smelled bad.

“Hooray, warrior! Long live the warrior!”

“Crazy bastards.”

I gathered straw and covered myself. Tomorrow I had to get up early in the morning to fetch water, so I had to go to bed now. The light from the crack in the window shone brighter than the stars, interrupting my habit of counting the stars while falling asleep.

“Really, you fucking bastards.”

When I couldn’t fall asleep, I always remembered old things. From today’s painful memories to childhood memories. Hateful memories that filled my head.

Horrible memories that keep you from sleeping.

“I will kill you.”

I was an orphan.

“I will kill them all. Fuck you bastards.”

If there is a rank for orphans, I was the lowest orphan. He grew up on the street from a young age and begged as soon as I was weaned. The gangster who was taking care of me punched me once I got the money and then threw a loaf of hard bread instead of a thick money box.

He was a pitiful man who always pretended to be courageous. When the guards came in to crack down on the group of beggars, I claimed that I was the leader of the group and stabbed the captain with money. The captain of the guard accepted the thug’s insistence and took me away, and I was taken to the slave market without trial.

At that time, the captain of the guard who sent me to the slave market said thank you for the lenient treatment. At that time, I really thought that was something to be thankful for.

And it was this mansion where they settled after changing owners several times.

Half of my life was trash and the other half was a commodity. Being beaten every day for useless reasons, it was also a life that would sooner or later be scrapped.

“Fucking bastard.”

So I hugged the straw and spat out abusive language.

He lived a life of having sex with his wife and drinking luxurious wine every day, so even the trivial reason of not being able to go to the capital would make him feel bad. I didn’t even know how I greeted each day.

The master who beats me, the maid in the mansion who ignores me, and the servants who harass me. I wanted to smash everything.

I wanted revenge.

Like those warriors, I wanted to live in goodwill and inflict pain on everyone.

Knock

Knock

Knock

And then, a demon knocked on the window and said to me,

“Could you open the window for me?”

She had purple skin and her eyes were ruby ​​red. Her large breasts were exposed naked in a piece of sleazy underwear, and her wavy hair gleamed in a variety of colors in the reflection of the light.

People were screaming.

“Hooray, warrior! Long live the warrior!”

And the devil said to me

“Really, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”