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Lucifer dressed up, gently kissed his sleeping deer on the cheeks, and happily wandered out of their bedroom. Yes, he made Alastor his queen in his mind, but the Radio Demon made him queen of his secret little kingdom.
With quiet hops, he gets to the kitchen, where he picks up today's ration of grains for his beloved ducks. He has already named them all! The biggest one is affectionately dubbed King Quackster the Second. Next, the one with the cleanest white feathers is Luciferia and that pretty duck with one red spot is named Al, because Al faithfully follows Luciferia and he could not bring himself to butcher Alastor’s name.
With everything sufficiently prepared, Lucifer enters the secret elevator and exits swiftly into the Great Market. Familiar people greet him, some invite him to their shops for a delicious breakfast, but they all know he will check on the ducks first. They secretly bet where he will eat each day and he, as the sneaking devil he is, always tries to select a place no one, or the fewest people, would guess. It’s a fun game and he has so many shops to check; there is always something new to eat.
At the lake, the fallen angel goes to his private boat, prepares everything for the morning with the loveliest creatures, and he is free to go. Feeding them, smilingly watching Al following Luciferia, controlling their necklaces—that is now natural for him to do. But no matter how much he loves ducks, he can’t spend the whole day with them. The poor creatures need a natural life in this “protected wilderness”, even though he visits them every day.
The Great Market, of course, provided a satisfactory answer to that problem as well. Alastor was the one who advised him about it when he complained about his excessive free time. The Academy—well, that’s what people in this little kingdom typically call it. It’s a school where local demons with skills share their practical knowledge. No need to be a real teacher; you just need to know something and then teach it to others. Anyone can go there, check what you can learn currently, and pick the classes. If you want something they do not offer, you put up a request, and they will try to find someone to teach that. For students, it’s free, and teachers are paid by Alastor. He uses territory funds for that, and people genuinely appreciate it.
More surprising is that if you go to the Academy and finish a course or class, you are well received even in the rest of Hell. It's not like anyone knows where the Academy is, who the teachers are, or anything at all, but they undoubtedly know you are skilled in what you do if you have that small diploma.
Lucifer’s free time was filled instantly. He took a job at the Academy as an astronomy and instrumental music teacher, while he also became a student in jewellery-making classes. That is his own surprise for Alastor.
…
Alastor woke up way later than Lucifer, but he undoubtedly felt that peck his little duck gave him before leaving. Late-night broadcasts unpleasantly remind hell-dwellers that he is still there, but no one can see him in his ominous shadows. Oh, he heard all those whispers around Hell, about him, about Lucifer… theories are getting weirder by the day and he enjoys that. But even with those oh-so-obvious baits and traps to lure him out or provoke any reaction out of them, he is patient and too focused on his revenge to care for the stupidity of people.
After he finally pushes himself up and prepares breakfast in the kitchen, he goes to his office. A dark room on the second floor, full of his favourite books and the place where he comes up with all the successful spells. There are no distractions, only one simple lamp on a dark wooden table with carved animals.
Currently, he is working on a way to break ownership. He had to go a long way while Rosie still owned his soul, because he realized a while ago that shattering it by force without breaking some part of the deal would require too much magical power. By his estimate, he would need to be at least four times stronger than Rosie. Not doable for him. Undoubtedly, he is stronger than her, but not that much, and getting someone else involved… no, she had him on too short of a leash to achieve that.
Regardless, a forceful break by power is also dangerous and painful for the owner; they imprison the soul, so damage needs to be done to them. He still needs to examine the damage that it will do to the owner of the soul, so freeing Angel Dust is the excellent test for his theories. It’s a win-win situation for him. Angel Dust will be in his grasp; he is sure to collect his soul after that. Husk will be happy his princess is with him, so his usual sharp mind will be back in the game. And last but not least, he needs to inspect the damage to the owner's soul; he is planning to develop something extraordinary out of it, depending on the results. Something very special. Only the best for the ex-queen, right?
…
Husk was not drunk. He had been sober for the whole month and wouldn't be drinking for the foreseeable future. Alastor’s orders. It would also mess up his persona right now. His fur was currently long, white, and fluffy. His wings were hidden, so even if he was still a cat demon, he was not recognized. Gone was his magical gambler black cat look and presented was this simple-minded rich people’s cat persona. He also used the bracelet they used at that ball to hide his voice.
It had been a month since they left the hotel and over two weeks since he started as a part-timer at Valentino’s most frequented bar. He had to see that fucker almost every day. The ex-overlord wanted to just rip his face off, but that creep was extremely dangerous for that. He needs to follow Alastor’s orders anyway. It’s better that way.
“Hey cute kitty,” talk about the devil—and no, not that cute duck-loving one—here he is, “are you sure you want to spend the night after that bar, kitty?”
Angel Dust was held by one of his lower hands, not high today, but clearly not happy to be dragged here. And that creep was flirting outrageously with him, ew.
“You know I have that, uh, deal with the owner, so I can’t play at work,” gross, no deals were made, but that idiot would eat up any lie that pretty faces tell him.
“Hm, maybe I should talk with him, my dear kitty, we could have so much fun,” Husk had to make his body freeze with magic when that damn, for sure dirty, hand touched his head to pet him. So gross, he is bathing in disinfectant tonight.
Luckily, some needy women called to him, so he went to have fun with them. He saw many gross things in Hell, but bringing drinks to that table, when almost all his filthy hands and… other body parts… were “occupied”, was a special kind of disgusting.
Husk was unluckily allowing himself to be petted every time he brought a new round of drinks, as he was inspecting Valentino’s body up and down. Why did that fucker have to be a moth? There are not any good unnoticeable ingredients on him! The currently white cat turned around when there was a little thud behind him and Angel Dust mumbled “Sorry, Val,” before he almost jumped out of his fur.
“You blind bitch, why do I even still own you?!”
When Husk turned around, he witnesses how a glass of whiskey broke over Angel Dust's head. The spider demon just fell immediately, clutching his bleeding head. Valentino was about to stomp on him when he screamed.
The whole bar saw how the small white cute cat just jumped the overlord, ruthlessly tearing his wings with sharp fangs apart into confetti. The moth overlord screamed and tried to catch him with one of many hands, but cats are way more flexible than one would think. Overlord was about to take out his gun when Kitty tore off his right antenna and rammed his head against the wall, knocking him out cold.
By now cowards had run away, ditching their drinks and partners. The owner was screaming about damages, but Husk had eyes only for Angel Dust. He knelt in front of him, squeezed his hand, and looked into his eyes: “Damn loser princess, I know it’s hard, but I will save you from that stupid tower, just wait a little bit longer.”
All the eyes of that pretty pink spider turned watery when he realized who was talking to him. Valentino moved a little, so Husk just nodded to him, not really wanting to leave him, but he needed to get out.
With magic puffs, he disappeared, appearing outside in his normal black cat form with the antenna in his hand: “Damn, I hope this will be enough.”
…
The decision to sell his soul to the Radio Demon was easy. His living is now protected, he has a comfortable place to stay, so many things to study, and even fascinating work. He should not admit it was also because he wanted to stay close to Niffty—that could end his life.
Baxter was currently in his office at the Academy, where he is teaching the biology of sea creatures. With a few other fish sinners here, they require some more knowledge to lead better lives. That’s Hell's punishment for you, and all of them need to learn to live with it.
Small demon personally prefers his “real” employment with Alastor, but the Academy work is like a nice hobby. The current main orders from his owner are to create a special radio tower that would be strong enough to connect unassumingly to the radio frequencies in Heaven and Earth.
That is, of course, research for the long run, so he will receive more orders from him, but he is not unreasonable with it. As an owner, Alastor also proved to be very effective when he introduced him to The Shadows, the biggest non-technological spy organization in Hell. How come no one realized that the Radio Demon just named his organization after one of his prominent features? Well, he also didn’t realize that. The Shadows could get him materials or information he needs for research. All Baxter needs to do is put up a request. Very helpful; resources are vital in his line of work.
“But why a radio tower? Will you broadcast to Heaven and Earth with that tower?” asked Baxter when they talked about specifics.
“Of course I will, my friend. That is one of the reasons I need them,” nodded Alastor with a smile, as usual.
"One of the reasons? What would you—" the fish demon stares at the deer demon, “you can spy through radios.”
That was a statement, not a question.
“Hmmm, yes,” proudly agreed the Radio Demon.
“Oh,” it was merely for a split second, but Baxter wondered how much more power Alastor would get from this. Not his problem, anyway. Creating an undetected line to Heaven and Earth that would last is way more difficult than the emergency call he made with Sir Pentious. This time, there is no help from the other side.
…
Violent explosions were now Cherri Bomb’s daily bread, even more than before. Dealing with Alastor had to be one of the most unnerving experiences she ever had, but she didn’t lose her soul and ended up with work instead. Not bad in exchange for a place in that Secret Ring of Hell and some extraordinary resources for her bombs. Where does that grandpa get his claws on those things?
But back to work; today she is at Prick’s territory, blowing up everything and everyone she can. All frightened eyes and attention need to be on her – she is, after all, a wannabe overlord, crawling and carving her way up to power with explosions! The bigger the mayhem, the better for her. The more famous she gets, the more people will recognize her. In under a month, some already scream at her sight. It’s perfect and fun, actually.
Her hellphone got a notification. It was annoying to delete all the irritating clickbait titles like:
“Radio Demon climbing the social ladder again.”
“Join us! We will pray to the Angel Alastor!”
“This has to be political.”
“If Vox is reporting it, it must be big.”
“Trust us!”
Then she finally noticed a message from Baxter: DINNER AT 7, AL’S KITCHEN, HE COOKS TODAY.
She needs to wrap it up faster if their best cook is preparing dinner. She reviews her notes for all the targets she needs to ruthlessly destroy in Prick’s territory and, with cheerful confidence (properly trained by Alastor), walks towards her next goal. Life is great and it will get better; she knows that.
…
Listening to Cherri Bombs in the distance, Niffty moves at practically impossible speed towards her target. It’s about time to get help from some external people, as per Alastor’s orders, because they need to be careful in some specific areas and it cannot be trailed back to them.
Niffty is a great maid, so when Alastor ordered that she will need to “clean up the warehouse of Carmilla Carmine” she will do it! But it has to be a secret! Getting inside without notice, carefully cleaning up everything, and then getting out with all that trash – mission impossible. She loves it.
Niffty is finally in front of the neglected building where she will get her minions for this mission. I.M.P., hehe, funny name. Will there be real imps?
…
Sitting on the bartender's side of the bar and drinking up that cheap booze, that is a new low for Vaggi. But here we are, and she reflects on how life could go down the drain the moment the cannibalistic overlord leaves it.
When they left, damn just a month ago, she was there for Charlie, well, she offered to be there for her, but… Lilith offered her daughter a shoulder to cry on and she took it – and then every day from then on. Charlie made sure she talked with her mother every day… not so much with her. Their bed was cold with just her lying there, being unable to fall asleep, only to jerk up in the morning to see her girlfriend already bolting out of the room. To her mother. Again.
Vaggi was exhausted. The hotel was barely holding up and running with all her hard work, but without Alastor, Lucifer, and others, it was futile. Guests started to trash it. Now she must be careful since they cannot check for drugs and they are everywhere. Many sinners left and those who stayed use the hotel as a free rental, ignoring any and all redemption help.
On one hand, Lilith did absolutely nothing about it, not offering any advice, not helping with hotel work, not even talking with sinners to rethink their aggressive behaviour, and not defending their hotel when some idiots came to loot them when people realized they were no longer under the Radio Demon's protection.
In Vaggi’s opinion she made the hotel an even worse place to live in. Vox’s people were allowed inside, so every so often (read “every day”), she would share more outlandish things about Lucifer or Alastor. People naively believed whatever she told them about Lucifer, which was a stupid sheep mindset, but they foolishly believed even the things she told them about Alastor. She was INTRODUCED to him a MONTH ago! How could she know ANYTHING about him? Use your brains, people!
On the other hand, Charlie was absolutely useless – and she hated herself for thinking like that about her girlfriend. Even now, she still wanted her parents together, saying that Lilith is just hurt, that this is just harmless lashing out, and with an apology, they will start their healing journey.
The same mindset was used towards everything. She still tried to talk to and guide sinners, believing their lies, just to be utterly oblivious to their real intentions. Everyone is trying to improve, everyone makes mistakes, everyone deserves a second chance. More like a 78th chance.
The tired angel looked at her hellphone, once again trying to contact one of the others—Husk, today. Nothing. They are gone, making a disappearing act just like Lilith or Alastor. She knows they are alive only thanks to Cherri Bomb happily blowing up yet another part of Pentagram City today. Vaggi always smiles sadly at the news when she sees her—it has Alastor written all over it.
…
Holding Valentino’s hand while he was complaining about some stupid white cat ruthlessly tearing his wings to shreds and one antenna off, then bashing his head against the wall, was not funny. How much did he want to get that cat in his bed to be so careless around it?
He had his own problems anyway; his internal servers had been overheating for a month! No matter what he did, there was no sign of Alastor! His sole “acquaintance” was that crazy bomber girl. Nothing on any camera in the city, nothing that anyone dared to post about his whereabouts! It was like he did not exist. Oh, and people were looking for him.
Whether it was for the news where rumors or clickbait appeared about him regularly, or Lilith trash-talking her ex-husband, feeding them whatever came to her head, people were FOCUSED on him, them.
Most people wanted to know where he is, how the king is in bed, and any “normal” degenerate stuff. But weirdos were popping up as well, like those who almost worshipped Alastor’s angelic form, no matter how fake it was. Let’s not talk about shippers…
After today, when they concluded another emotional interview with Lilith, she even promised him (and the cameras) a tour of the Royal Palace, just to reveal them another of the king's pathetic sides. There are allegedly many embarrassing secrets in his personal rooms. She also desperately wants to present herself as a proper queen, which she laughably is not; she cannot even say that without a curse stopping her.
Ugh, but the news cannot focus exclusively on them, he has to report on what is going on. After all, he is the leading face of the television. That bomber woman gained a daily spot, almost like meteorology warnings, informing people where not to go or to go, whatever. In his personal and surely correct opinion, she aims at overlords' territories to become one of them. Only a few idiots would not notice that, but he will have to point that out to them.
HE HATES IT! BEING IGNORED BY THE RADIO DEMON! No matter what he posts, he is gone! NOT EVEN A HAIR OF HIS!
When Valentino’s hand pulled him to their bed, he realized the other man had stopped complaining and now wanted to let steam off. Sure, he needs that too.
And when Lilith takes them to the Royal Palace, he will make sure to tear Lucifer’s remaining dignity to shreds, until there is nothing left, so Alastor will finally get out of whatever hole he hid in.
…
It seems that Jambalaya became the comfort food of this weird, still not complete, family. Were they any less polite, they would steal it from each other's plates. Not like anyone would ever dare, there is plenty and he would hang their corpses in front of Cannibal Town. They know that.
Cherri Bomb was making fun of Husk, as he finally got back from his work and washed himself in chemicals, probably some alcohol or disinfectants, because he didn’t want to “spread whatever that shit was”.
Others were sharing their daily activities, some in an almost too loud way.
When he and Lucifer went to their bedroom, having Baxter (with Niffty) on cleaning duty today, Alastor had all the information he needed to continue with his plans.
“And I am getting genuinely good at polishing precious stones. Maybe next time Master Kin will allow me even work on my own,” excitedly informed him his little duck, climbing on him in bed.
“Master Kim has been in Hell for over 400 years: He is stern with his students, but the results are always amazing. If he praised you, then he in fact meant it,” added Alastor.
Looking at this cute creature on his lap, he shines with a golden glow now. Lucifer threw his arms around Alastor’s neck, making them fall into their pillows.
“My shining king,” smirked the Radio Demon, making the king blush even more, “before we go to bed, I still have one question for today.”
“Yes?”
“Say, do you actually like your palace?”
Now Lucifer looks at him with a puzzled look: “What?”
The end