The clock was ticking.
The "Demon Box" imprisonment skill was nearing its expiration. After the relic had gained significant experience from the previous bout with Arak, it had evolved, extending its ability to entrap prey from a mere five minutes to a substantial thirty.
The Virus Headlines haven't manifested yet, Hermes noted, his mind sharp and analytical. I suppose the 'quest' isn't technically over until the rewards are processed. This realm is too quiet.
"Slime," Hermes said, gesturing toward the hovering, doll-like figure of Meili. "She can't just float around here as a tourist. This dimension has rules. What's her place?"
"There is a vacant seat for her, Master," the slime responded with a professional lilt. "It is the role of Content Moderator."
"Give it to her. I believe she'll find the 'work' suit her temperament," Hermes directed, turning his back on the new servant to survey the shifting walls of the void.
"Yes, Master."
The slime floated over to her sister, placing a small, translucent hand on Meili's forehead. A surge of dense, dark Ki flooded into the younger spirit's mind. Meili buckled, coughing up a spray of spiritual essence that looked like ink, but she grit her teeth and endured the transformation.
When the light faded, Meili stood taller, a new authority radiating from her small frame.
"What... what is a 'Moderator,' Sister?" Meili asked, testing the weight of the new power in her limbs.
"A Content Moderator has the special privilege of moving freely within this dimension," the slime explained, now floating back to Hermes's shoulder. "You are authorized to delete 'spam' and add new 'articles' to this reality."
"Articles?" Meili tilted her head.
"The transparent rooms where contributors like you demonstrate your power. For instance, you can construct a specific 'article' to house the challengers imprisoned here—like those High Elves."
Meili's eyes lit up with a mix of awe and dark delight. "So... my job is to make sure the enemies are categorized correctly, ensured against counter-insurgency, and stripped of illegal items before they are 'processed'?"
"Exactly. But don't get full of yourself," the slime warned, pointing a finger down at the floor. "You are prohibited from accessing the Root Codes of this realm. Remember, you're still the junior staff here."
Meili lowered her head, a bitter but respectful smile on her lips. "I wonder who even created this relic. It's... intricate."
"A reputable, overpowered human who was once at par with the Emperor," the slime said, her voice dripping with sudden disgust. "He could make the world tremble. He killed Demon Generals with his bare hands. Truly a terrifying man."
"Why the long face, Sister?"
"Because he was a pig," the slime spat. "A womanizer who used his hero status to steal married women from their husbands and 'save' female slaves just to add them to his collection. He even tried to force a contract on me. He was eventually poisoned by one of his own lovers. Good riddance. There's even a rumor he stole the idea for this box from another world."
Definitely a transmigrator, Hermes thought, shaking his head. The generic 'Isekai Protagonist' build. Overpowered, ego-driven, and ultimately undone by his own 'harem' tropes. What an idiot.
"Let's forget that trash," the slime said, snapping her fingers. "Master, the relic is ready to level up tonight. We need at least fifteen souls to trigger the evolution."
"Understood," Hermes nodded. "We have the five guests in the office. That's a start."
"Sister... are you sure there are only five?" Meili asked, her sapphire eyes narrowing.
"I sensed only five raw materials," the slime shrugged.
Raw materials? They're still people, technically, Hermes sighed internally.
"Meili, what do you see?" Hermes asked, stepping closer to the little girl.
"Dear Master," Meili whispered, "the Elder is hiding eleven souls within his own shadow. I can smell the scent of High Elves—delicious and aged. Unlike my sister, my nose is... specialized. That Elder is a gambler; he keeps his best cards hidden in a 'pocket' dimension within his own body."
"Eleven more? So sixteen souls in total," Hermes simpered, his mask hiding a predatory grin. "Our enemies came prepared."
"Wonderful!" the slime rejoiced. "A feast!"
I almost feel bad for them, Hermes thought, though he knew "mercy" wasn't an option in this game.
His two familiars shimmered and shifted back into their hidden forms—the slime becoming the featureless mask, and Meili folding back into a sealed letter. Hermes donned the mask and tucked the letter into his breast pocket.
He stepped through the shimmering veil into the "article" where his guests were waiting.
The silence of the office was broken as Hermes entered, his arms spread wide like a gracious host at a gala. "Welcome, gentlemen. I hope the accommodations aren't too... cramped."
"Y-you? What have you done?!" Elder Kilo barked, his hands already glowing with the green hue of forest magic.
"I've only saved you the walk, Elder. Don't be so exasperated," Hermes responded, calmly shutting the door behind him.
"Did you do this? Is this your magic?" Kilo demanded, signaling his four guards to form a perimeter.
"Me? Maybe. Who knows?" Hermes shrugged.
"If it's not you, then who is your proponent? Who is the architect of this space?"
"Proponent? Such big words, Elder," Hermes teased, placing an index finger over his masked lips. "It's hard to give a name, seeing as she doesn't technically have one yet. Is she a human? A pet? A god? I'm not stupid enough to lay my cards on the table. My answer is... a secret."
"Master is a born trickster," the slime giggled in his mind. "He is a bestial, smooth-talking creature, and I love it," Meili added.
I'm inadvertently quoting the 'Original Hermes' again, he realized with a twinge of annoyance. The villainous dialogue is becoming muscle memory. Fuck it.
"Right. I see," Kilo said, standing tall and glaring through his wrinkles. "You are magicless. An ordinary human. I don't sense a single drop of mana in you. I apologize for... jumping to the conclusion that you were a threat."
"Ouch," Hermes chuckled, his shoulders shaking. "That's a bit harsh, don't you think? My background is a bit more... complicated than the public records suggest. Some of that information is quite biased, lol."
Elder Kilo's eyes narrowed, scanning the space for the tell-tale shimmer of a hidden mage. I don't sense a ripple of mana. Is this an illusion? No, the air has weight. This is the man himself. Hermes—or Aljen, as he likes to be called—isn't the type to show himself full of openings unless he's already closed the trap.
"May I ask a question for the record?" Kilo asked, his voice steady despite the adrenaline.
"Go for it," Hermes permitted, leaning back with a nonchalant air that set the Elder's teeth on edge.
The Elder took a deep breath. "Just for confirmation... are we inside the Demon Box?"
"Yup," Hermes nodded promptly.
Behind Kilo, the four henchmen visibly twitched. The legends of the Demon Box were whispered in taverns as ghost stories; to be inside one was to be stripped of the laws of physics.
I knew it. Why did I even ask? What a redundant question, Kilo thought, heaving a sigh of disappointment. "Sir Aljen, I know there is... history between us. But I believe our relationship has reached its natural conclusion. Let me offer a final piece of advice before we proceed with your execution."
"Advice? I'm all ears," Hermes quipped.
"Whoever truly controls this box is the one pulling the strings. I suspect they are hiding in the shadows while you play the part of the brave warrior. You can drop the act. I'd hate for us to run out of time while you're still pretending to be the one in charge." Kilo signaled his men. They began to fan out, flanking Hermes in a predatory semi-circle.
"C'mon, Elder. Don't be like that," Hermes snickered, his voice echoing in the artificial silence of the room. "And let me correct you there—we aren't friends. You can't end a 'relationship' that never existed in the first place. That's just basic logic."
The Elder's face hardened. He raised his hand, the air around his palm beginning to hum with latent energy. His men drew their weapons, the steel singing as it cleared leather sheaths.
"Elder, I agree on one thing: we are running out of time," Hermes warned, his tone suddenly dropping the playful edge. "Tell your men to stand down. Stop this ludicrous attempt before it gets messy."
"I don't think you're in a position to negotiate, Sir Aljen," Kilo countered. He hovered his fingers, ready to snap the signal for a coordinated strike.
"Why are you so obtuse?" Hermes placed a hand on his forehead, looking genuinely exhausted.
"Obtuse?" Kilo's eyebrows shot up. "Young man, I've lived three of your lifetimes. Do you even understand the gravity of that word? Here is my advice: don't mock a being more powerful than yourself. Stop being an asshole."
"You tried to defame me. You tried to usurp my title and spread fabrications during a village crisis. And yet, I'm trying to be civil. I don't actually like killing people of your caliber," Hermes said, maintaining a precise distance to keep the guards from completing the circle.
"Enough, Aljen. Let's end the theater," Kilo said gently, almost like a grandfather tired of a child's tantrum. "I know that deep down, you're terrified. Just let us kill you. We'll bury you with the proper rites. I'm trying to keep this professional."
Hermes held up a hand, halting the advance for the third time.
What now? Kilo wondered, his patience fraying.
"You still don't get it. I'm giving you a chance to apologize and redeem yourselves. As long as the countdown is still active, I can spare you from your pending deaths," Hermes said gravely.
"My apologies, but you're just buying time to escape," Kilo snapped. "We don't negotiate with dead men. I have to redeem my honor tonight. It's nothing personal—it's just a job. Right here, right now!"
Kilo snapped his fingers.
Swish. Swish. Splash.
Four blades lunged toward Hermes's vitals simultaneously. But instead of the sound of rending flesh, there was the harmonic thrum of vibrating energy. Three shimmering bars of a translucent barrier appeared, repelling the weapons with a violent kinetic shock.
"What the hell?" Kilo stammered, his eyes widening.
"Futile. Your attacks won't reach me," Hermes sighed. "Man, give me a minute, will ya? I thought your personality would be like Albus Dumbledore, but I was wrong. You've got a real Saruman-from-Lord-of-the-Rings vibe going on. What a shame."
"Your sarcastic fiction won't affect me! Who the hell is Albus?!" Kilo clicked his tongue, his hands igniting. "I've dealt with men like you before. You use words to hide your weakness."
"Eh? You must be mistaken. When did I say a joke?" Hermes tilted his head, the mask reflecting the firelight.
"Earlier! Stop playing around!"
"Pff. My bad. I thought you were deaf because of your age, so I was speaking up," Hermes giggled.
"ENOUGH!" Kilo roared, casting a concentrated fire blast. The inferno hit the barrier and blossomed outward, filling the room with thick, grey smoke. "Go! Take him!"
The guards plunged into the smoke, their swords swinging in wide, lethal arcs. Clang. Clang. The invisible force deflected every strike, the impact sending vibrations back up the soldiers' arms until their hands went numb.
"Whoever owns this relic, stop meddling!" Kilo screamed, firing bolt after bolt of arcane energy at the shimmering wall.
"C'mon, chill. Refresh your mind," Hermes jeered from behind the smoke. "And stop trying to kill me already. It's getting repetitive."
"Every spell has a limit, boy! I will find the key to this barrier, and when it falls, you're finished!"
"Flimsy words, Elder," Hermes said, standing firm with a hand on his waist.
"Don't get cocky!" Kilo unleashed a massive wall of flame, the heat searing the very air. Simultaneously, his men hammered at the barrier with their enchanted weapons.
Hermes let out a long, exaggerated yawn. "Man, if you're so confident, why don't you release the burden out of your shadow? I know you're hiding your 'pets' underneath. Let's see the real cards."
Kilo froze for a split second. "Why can't you understand? Once you're dead, the village returns to normal. I am doing this for the sake of humanity!"
"Humanity, my ass," Hermes shrugged. "You sound like a politician using high-minded language to fish for votes. It's transparent, Elder."
"I challenge you to a duel, Aljen! Your knowledge is impressive, but your attitude is repugnant!"
"I believe you meant to say my mouth is 'impeccable,'" Hermes corrected smoothly.
"Despicable!" Kilo screamed.
CRACK.
Under the relentless pressure, one of the three barrier bars shattered into shimmering dust.
"Wow, you're pretty good," Hermes clapped mockingly. "Good job. Here's your reward."
"Oh, have fun mocking us while you can," Kilo replied, his face twisted into a terrifying, triumphant smile. "The walls are crumbling. You should open that door and try to run now... or stay and let us rumble your face with our feet."
"Man, please... don't fall to lust. I'm not really in the mood for a gangbang, especially with a group of guys," Hermes teased, wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a mock-defensive huddle.
"Sir Aljen, I am goddamn straight!" Elder Kilo roared, his face turning a shade of purple that clashed horribly with his green robes. "Unlike my younger brother, I am perfectly normal! Is this how you interact with your enemies? Unbelievable... what a dirty-minded brat."
"Eh? You're only just realizing that now?" Hermes feigned bewilderment, peeking through his fingers with a shit-eating grin.
"What the heck? Fine. Enough of this! Let's be civilized," Kilo barked, a thick vein popping out on his forehead. "Your barbaric mouth should shut first. Listen here—I am more than enough to kill you. Accept the challenge already. Of course, this duel is nothing more than the final struggle of a doomed criminal."
"Me? A criminal?" Hermes pointed at his own chest, looking like an offended choirboy. "I am honestly the most decent child in the world. But... you're right about that last part. Criminals should be rightfully punished. I believe it's only fair to give you a special experience you'll never forget."
"Tsk. Our physical attacks are futile against that barrier. Stop stalling, Aljen. I have business to attend to," Kilo insisted.
"You're in such a hurry? Man, I'm hurt." Hermes leaned his weight back against the dimensional door, sliding down an inch in a display of pure, practiced apathy.
"How much longer do we have to wait, Master?" the slime whispered in his ear. "Just a little longer," Hermes instructed. "Dear Master~, we only have six minutes left," Meili reported, her voice buzzing with anticipation. "It's fine. Leave it be. I've got this," Hermes asserted.
He looked down at his own hands, slowly clenching his fists. I guess I have no other choice, he thought. The time for games was ending. "Hey, let's talk. Regarding your 'duel'—how about we have a temporary truce so you can hear my questions? Before I accept, what are the rules and conditions?"
The Elder raised a hand, signaling his four guards to halt their fruitless pounding on the barrier. They stepped back, panting, their weapons notched from the kinetic feedback.
"A fight to the death. I have no other conditions," Kilo answered coldly.
"So generic. C'mon, it's just you... and me? If you're too stubborn to set terms, then I'll do it. My condition is this: your minions don't interfere. A true one-on-one," Hermes proposed, pointing a finger at the guards.
"Negative. Request denied," Kilo simpered, his eyes glinting with malice. "They have every right to join. You must have mistaken this for a chivalrous bout. My type of duel is a bit... special."
"A duel where your friends jump in? That's just called a mugging, Elder. It's pretty obvious you're just waiting for me to hit my limit so they can dogpile me," Hermes scratched his head, complaining with a calm that didn't match his words.
"Don't be such a coward. In battle, this is the common approach," Kilo lectured. Go ahead, keep joking, he thought. I'll let you taste your own medicine soon enough.
"Elder, I don't think I can give you any more time to save your ass," Hermes said, his voice dropping into a register of genuine anguish. "I tried to be like those villains with dark personalities—you know, like Saruman—trying to convince the bad guys to side with me. I was about to offer you salvation. But my familiars... they really want a taste of your body. I don't think you're going to be lucky enough to continue existing after this."
"Same to you. I was going to offer you a quick ending, but now the gift is 'pending,'" Kilo sneered, beginning to chant a high-level spell.
"Man, you're so unfair. I hope you don't regret this." Hermes snapped his fingers.
THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.
The four henchmen collapsed instantly, their bodies hitting the floor like sacks of meat. There was no blood, no struggle—just the sudden, total absence of life.
Kilo froze, his spell fizzling out as he jumped back in shock. "W-what the hell just happened?!"
"Their time expired," Hermes responded simply, beginning a slow, predatory walk toward the old man.
"Fuck it! Take this!" Kilo unleashed a jagged bolt of emerald fire.
"Futile." Hermes didn't even flinch as the slime barrier absorbed the blast, rippling like a pond.
"I-Impossible!" Kilo stammered, stepping back. "How? You aren't even a mage!"
"Elder, you can use your final trump card now. I know it's there," Hermes said, pointing his index finger toward the Elder's trembling shadow.
"Y-you know?" Kilo gulped.
"C'mon, it was a hunch. Do you think I'm some kind of monster who'd make you swallow your pride without a reason? I'm just a magicless human. I guessed... and well, gotcha. Release them. I'm tired of waiting."
"Wow, Master, we're almost out of time! This is the climax!" the slime cheered. "Should I play the music?" "Go for it," Hermes permitted.
Suddenly, the silent void was filled with the haunting, sharp notes of a piano paired with a weeping violin. The melody was dark, grand, and suffocating.
"What is this? Where is that sound coming from?!" Kilo cried out, his pride melting like ice in a furnace.
"It's a Villain OST, Elder," Hermes replied with mock respect. "OST? What does that stand for?" "Official Soundtrack," Hermes said, spreading his arms wide as the music reached a crescendo.
"You're insane," Kilo whispered. "Fine. You noticed the cards under the table, so be it! You're going down!"
Kilo snapped his fingers. Eleven shadows detached themselves from his feet, expanding and solidifying into eleven High Elf warriors.
"I'm sorry for your loss in advance," Hermes muttered, looking genuinely dismayed.
"DRINK!" Kilo commanded. "Sir, yes, sir!" the eleven elves shouted in unison. They downed small vials of a glowing green potion. Their bodies began to contort. Their ears lengthened and sharpened like rats', their eyes turned a soulless, crow-black, and their muscles bulged until they were monstrous parodies of their former selves.
"Kyaaa! Delicious raw materials!" the slime rejoiced in Hermes's head. "They're worth a thousand human souls each! We're so lucky!" "Kyaaa! I love it! I never thought we'd get such a good recipe for dinner!" Meili cheered.
I thought she was exaggerating the numbers, Hermes thought, weeping silently behind his mask. Now I'm going to level this thing up to a point of no return. I'll never be a normal human again. Why is this my life?