Malron sat on a rusty, broken machine, his eyes glued to the window. The sky was beginning to clear, ensuring their safety in the wooden shack for at least a few hours. But they had to leave the station soon.
Wandering around in Portland was not a good idea, for Malron knew those following them were no ordinary group.
The High Priests, a name Malron did not recognize. Perhaps this group had emerged after Malron had not set foot in the world for decades.
Suddenly, an idea flashed through the demon's mind. Maybe the System knew about the High Priest.
"Counsel," he said casually.
[Greetings The Damned One]
[How may I serve you?]
"Explain about the High Priest group."
[System not bound by worldly affairs]
"I don't need that excuse. Who is the High Priest?"
[Denied. Mundane matters are The Damned One responsibility or solve]
Malron's hands gestured as if strangling the air. "MORON!"
It seemed as if Malron's loud voice woke Kieran from his sleep; he almost jumped. Kieran turned quickly, his face showing panic.
"What's wrong?" he whispered.
"Nothing."
A sigh of relief escaped Kieran's nostrils as he realized it was morning. He rubbed his eyes, then covered his mouth politely as he yawned.
"What time is it?" Kieran asked.
Malron shrugged. "Who knows, but the sun is up."
"I must have slept too long. I apologize, sir."
Not really, two hours at most. But Malron couldn't wait for Kieran to recharge his energy fully. They both had to leave.
Besides, an idea crossed Malron's mind. They should take the train. Even better, a freight train.
It was more practical than hitchhiking and relying on cars. Malron could easily influence the conductor and the railroad workers.
"Just listen, Kieran... I have a good idea. We should—"
Kieran immediately cut him off. "Wait. I haven't prayed yet."
Suddenly, Malron felt a tense atmosphere that made him uncomfortable. He wanted to leave the shack, but there was no way Malron was going to leave Kieran.
Eventually, Malron turned his attention back to the window.
Impatiently, Malron waited for the boy to finish his prayers with conviction.
In Malron's mind, he could perceive the thoughts of the people arriving at the station. Different moods surrounded them this morning, mostly complaints.
If the people really had faith and believed in divine power, what did they have to complain about?
A sardonic smile appeared on Malron's face. Yes, continue to be dissatisfied with life in this world... because that's what we want, the demon thought happily.
But there was one strange thing. Malron turned to Kieran immediately.
The demon couldn't hear what Kieran was saying in his mind.
It happened again. So Malron's suspicion was correct; something strange and wrong with the boy who fell on him last night.
After a few minutes of waiting, Kieran finished his prayer. A bright smile appeared on Kieran's face as he approached Malron.
For a skinny boy who had fallen from the roof, witnessed a massacre, and drank three cans of soda without burping much, Malron thought Kieran was tough enough.
Kieran cleared his throat. "What idea were you talking about, sir?"
The young man jumped onto the broken machine where Malron had been sitting, swinging his legs casually.
Malron grimaced. How old was he? Nine? The demon cursed silently in his heart.
"The idea?" Kieran repeated.
"Well, here's the plan. We should get on the train to Albuquerque. The trip will probably take more than a day, but it's more practical than hitchhiking."
Kieran's eyebrows furrowed. "How do we buy the tickets? With what?"
"I'm going to use my powers, idiot! Mentalist, like you said."
Kieran's eyes blinked quickly. Then, his expression became firm. "No. You cannot influence people for evil purposes. Deceptive actions are for demons and are sinful."
Suddenly, Malron felt his palms burning and clenched his teeth in pain. Bloody hell, he cursed in his heart.
[Your Chronicle, The Damned One]
[Demonic Power: +999]
[Trident Flame: +999]
[Wrath: +999]
[Temptation: +999]
[Cunning: +998]
[Malice: +998]
[Angelic Power: -999]
[Sword Eternity: -999]
[Patience: -999]
[Sincerity: +1]
[Compassion: -999]
[Benevolence: +1]
Malron was shocked, his lips unconsciously whispering, "Why did it change?"
[Cunning converted to Sincerity one point]
[The Chronicle conversion applies to the Master's command that you cannot refuse, The Damned One]
"Revert! Restore my power!" Malron clenched his hair in frustration.
It was a bad dream, a literal nightmare for Malron.
"Sir? Are you all right?"
Malron's eyes stared at Kieran intensely. "You know I'm not all right! It's all because of you!"
Malron's body lunged at Kieran, but there seemed to be a protective layer around Kieran, causing Malron to be thrown hard against the wall.
Hastily, Kieran approached Malron, panicking and grabbing the demon's arm. "Sir, sir! Why are you suddenly doing stunt moves? You could get hurt."
For the first time in his life, Malron felt like crying. Various onomatopoeias and curses swirled in his head.
"You should have said that after we got to Albuquerque, Kieran. It will be hard for us to hitch a ride on the train!!" Malron exclaimed.
"What do you mean, stowaway, sir?"
"What else?!" Malron's emotions peaked.
Patience was never in his vocabulary, and he didn't want his patience points to suddenly increase because he was forced to restrain himself.
"What misfortune has befallen me?" he complained.
"Be patient, sir."
Malron was about to roll on the floor.
"What if I talk to the stationmaster? Maybe he can help us if he hears my story." Kieran immediately proposed his idea. "If we plan something with good intentions, we will surely get a good reward."
"A..." Malron was cut off. "Aye-aye, Captain," he continued.
He almost said 'Amen'.
"Alright, let's go see the stationmaster," Kieran decided.
The young man left the shack, leading the way. Meanwhile, the demon remained on the ground, staring at Kieran's back.
Malron couldn't believe Kieran would dare do such a thing; talk so openly to the stationmaster.
Malron wondered if Kieran knew this was the year 2025 when people like Kieran were almost extinct. The station manager might even report them to the police.
"Oh, damn it!" Malron muttered.
He quickly ran after the foolish boy and grabbed his arm.
"No, Kieran! Don't do it!"
"But why? What's wrong? We want to tell the truth."
"Listen, they will think we are trespassers," Malron pointed to the shack behind them. "Even sleeping there will be considered wrong. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Yes. I will apologize for sleeping in that shack."
"No, you don't understand! The station workers will still consider us hobos who have crossed the line!"
Kieran was silent for a few seconds, then said, "But we're not vagrants, sir."
Malron wanted to bang his head against a train to make Kieran understand what he meant. Once again, Malron wanted to cry uncontrollably, as if he had just sliced three hundred pounds of onions.
Kieran patted the demon's shoulder and smiled sincerely. "Don't be pessimistic, sir. There is always a way for those who believe in Him."
I don't...!! Malron's inner self screamed.
"Hey!"
The yell sounded like a warning to Malron.
"What are you doing, huh?!"
Malron turned around and inadvertently said, "Oh, damn, part two."