Chapter 14

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Life as a lower-leader — as a demon-eater… on Illunira-
… haha… It’s hard!

-I have such mixed feelings about the whole thing!

… Heh, cliché right? “Protagonist has mixed feelings about their past. More at eleven!”
Or perhaps I should try the “Protagonist broods about dark, tragic past” trope, since that’s so successful…?

Well, the best response to this dilemma seems clear to me: It was actually pretty fun! … For the most part.

All I had to do was wander around my assigned territory, making sure the amount of demonic energy remained low, and capturing Unsalvs (if I found any, which was rare).
Aside from that, I could do more-or-less whatever I wanted!

… To give you an idea of what it was like:

There was a place that functioned kinda like a townsquare/park that I liked to hang around.
People would put on all sorts of performances! There were bands, small theatrical plays, new food dishes being sold, people would dance…!
I even performed there sometimes, myself. That was probably the most fun of all!

Then there were the little cafés I’d find.
And places that were… essentially bookstores, but we had to write on these — well, we had a way to make the writing glow. In order to read easily in the dark environment, we had this metallic-like ink that would light up when we infused it with prizmal energy. It even came in different colors!

Sometimes I’d meet up with other lower-leaders, and we’d play these games. In my favorite, one of us would name an animal or a person or something, and the other would try and manipulate their own aura to imitate it. Whoever ran out of energy or failed to mimic anything first lost.
… I wish I could’ve played more games like that.

I… I, uh… haven’t mentioned this yet, but… I never had many friends, growing up. Even among the other demon-eaters.
Few of us as there were, and separated from our families as kids, one might think we all developed some kind of family-esque bond, right?

Not so much.

Well, actually, maybe the others did…? I’m not sure.
See… I’m actually really good at MAKING friends. But for whatever reason… I dunno, maybe I’m cursed or something. Because we always end up… separated somehow.

It’s not that I lose the friends I make, per se. But SOMETHING always happens: we drift apart, they make other friends, we just stop talking for no reason, someone ends up having to move… or… or, even if they don’t leave, they… we…
We just can’t understand each other enough to ever really…


Whatever the case — it’s NEVER anyone’s fault. There’s almost never anyone to blame for it. But that just makes it worse — because it ALWAYS. HAPPENS-!

… A-anyway… um…

So, I could never keep friends, but… I was quite good at making them.
This, plus the demon-eater uniform I had to wear, led to some… interesting situations.

People were naturally cautious of me, but they also recognized me as a peace-keeper. Basically, they felt about me something between how people in a peaceful country here might feel about a police officer or a soldier.

So, after the people in my area got used to me, they… heh, well… Sometimes, when people noticed me, they brought me gifts. Like food or children’s drawings.
But some people… they never stopped ducking quickly inside the nearest building.

And, well… All even remotely good things must come to an end. Eventually, the Dead Ones decided I was too valuable an asset to be wasting on normal patrols.

… Or so they claimed.

Instead, they sent me to help supervise the Unsalvs — where I met my very first Best Friend.

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