As the first rays of morning sunlight streamed through the blinds into the bedroom, the bed, with its white sheets, was already empty. The master of the room had long since washed and dressed. Now, he stood before the mirror, adjusting his appearance.
In the full-length mirror, Arthur Hastings methodically and meticulously fastened each button of his tailcoat.
A black top hat, a deep blue high-collared tailcoat, dark gray riding boots, fitted white trousers with shiny silver buttons and a leather belt. On the right side of the belt was a thick, long wooden baton, and a police officer's sword with distinct Victorian style hung in its scabbard on the left.
He glanced at himself in the mirror, brushed off the dust from the blue-and-white armband on his left arm, and nodded slightly.
"With this uniform, you do look quite proper. Who would have thought that such a noble and outstanding young man would be a scoundrel who made a pact with the devil?"
A sinister, cold greeting echoed in Arthur's ears.
Strangely, there was no one else in the mirror but Arthur.
But Arthur clearly thought otherwise.
A faint red light flickered in his dark eyes.
"If it weren't for you, I should be sitting in the London Stock Exchange or a bank right now, enjoying the view of the Thames, savoring food and coffee, and handling stock deals worth hundreds of thousands or even millions of pounds. Instead of running around the filthy, chaotic East End of London, risking my life dealing with thieves and murderers for a weekly allowance of twelve shillings."
A ghostly figure gradually materialized in front of Arthur.
It was a young man dressed in a colorful acrobat's costume, wearing a clown hat, with an exaggerated red-and-white makeup, bulging eyes, and horns on his head.
He lay horizontally on the frame of the full-length mirror, staring at Arthur with his bloodshot eyes.
Arthur stared blankly for a while before slightly furrowing his brow. "Agares, what kind of outfit is this today?"
No sooner had he spoken than maniacal laughter rang in Arthur's ears, the piercing sound almost splitting his eardrums, as if it would blow off his skull and the ceiling together.
"Happy April Fool's Day, Arthur!"
Agares laughed uproariously, proud of Arthur's confused and bewildered expression just moments earlier.
Arthur stared coldly at the eccentric demon, then calmly bent down and picked up the red clown nose that had fallen to the floor.
"Here, your nose fell off."
Agares, picking up the red nose with three fingers, corrected Arthur with a mischievous grin.
"Oh, my dear Arthur. This is not my nose, but my breakfast!"
"Your breakfast?"
Arthur looked closely and found that the red nose had a tortured human face, which seemed somewhat familiar to him.
"Oh? Isn't this Professor Dempsey? It's been over six months since I graduated. How have you been during this time?"
The face on the red nose let out a wail: "Arthur, please don't let this devil torment me any longer! I admit I was wrong to make things difficult for you academically, but didn't I later arrange for your smooth graduation? Why, why do you still treat me this way?"
Arthur ignored Professor Dempsey's pleas and simply shook his finger lightly.
"Mr. Dempsey, you're being unfair. Let me clarify the facts for you.
The reason you let me graduate smoothly wasn't out of conscience but because I caught you in the act when you tried to force yourself on Eliza. And the reason I happened to be there was because it was all part of my plan.
You promised me at the time that as long as I didn't expose your deeds, you would do anything I asked. Given that, offering your soul was only fair, wasn't it?"
"But… Ahhhhhhh!!!"
Before Dempsey could finish his sentence, Agares tossed him into his mouth.
With a series of violent chewing sounds, crimson blood trickled from his mouth.
Agares' face contorted as he swallowed, rubbing his belly contentedly, and let out a loud burp amidst Dempsey's anguished screams.
"This breakfast is a bit too hearty."
Arthur, clearly accustomed to such bloody scenes, even had the presence of mind to ask, "How does it taste?"
Agares swiped his half-meter-long tongue across his mouth like a windshield wiper, scooping up the last traces of blood and remnants into his mouth.
"Tasty, but a bit stinky. Alright, now let's see what's on the menu for lunch."
Agares snapped his fingers, and a menu with a leather cover appeared in his palm as flames flickered at his fingertips.
He flipped through a few pages, then suddenly brightened and pointed at a picture on one of the pages, shouting to Arthur, "Hey, Arthur, what do you think of this?"
Arthur, while tidying his sideburns, glanced at the menu. It depicted a beautiful young girl with light blonde hair holding a lace-trimmed white parasol.
He casually asked, "You want to eat Eliza?"
Agares closed his eyes in blissful fantasy, uncontrollable drool spilling from his mouth.
"If I recall correctly, this young lady seems to have some affection for you. A young woman in love is the easiest to deceive.
With just a little charm, you could easily deliver her to my mouth. A young woman plunged into despair after being betrayed by her lover… Just thinking about it, she must be a real delicacy.
Hmm…
Maybe a bit of seasoning. Arthur, how about after winning her heart, you break it by cheating on her multiple times? Wouldn't that add some flavor?"
"Aren't you afraid she'll taste bitter?"
Agares clasped his hands together, smiling brightly. "Oh, my dear Arthur, you misunderstood me. When I say cheat, I don't mean with women—that's too conventional. Remember, I am a devil."
Arthur didn't get angry at his words. He simply picked up his cup of tea and took a sip.
"Do devils like to cheat with men?"
Agares' head suddenly swelled, his deformed, rage-filled features nearly touching Arthur's face.
"Arthur! It's not that devils like to cheat with men, I mean you, you! Don't twist my words!"
But Arthur clearly wasn't fazed by Agares' antics; he was long used to them.
"So, it's just you who likes it, then? Agares, you're too out of touch."
"I'm telling you to cheat with men!"
Agares roared, his voice blowing Arthur's hair as if in a windstorm.
Arthur replied calmly, "I refuse."
"Why?"
"Too burdensome."
"For Eliza?"
"For me."
Agares deflated like a punctured balloon, collapsing onto the carpet as a flat, empty shell.
"Fine, fine. Regardless, you should first win over Eliza. We can discuss the cheating part later."
"I refuse."
"This time, why?"
"There are two main reasons. First, Eliza and I have no conflicts of interest, and she even helped me with the Dempsey situation. Since I'm a person with a conscience, I don't intend to
repay her kindness with treachery."
"Oh! What did I just hear? Conscience! Arthur, I never expected a poor guy like you to own such a luxury!"
Agares' body suddenly inflated, and his ethereal form stretched out his neck and poked his head into Arthur's chest, twisting around without any obstruction.
"It's dark and empty here; I can't see a thing. Conscience? Where is that heart of gold?"
When Arthur didn't respond, Agares continued to shout and holler: "Arthur, can you hear me? Hear me? Me?"
Arthur only replied lightly, "Perhaps I don't have a conscience. But at the same time, I'm quite sure my chest isn't spacious enough to create an echo."
As soon as he finished speaking, Arthur drained his teacup in one go.
After a moment, Agares returned, clutching his wet head.
He conjured a handkerchief out of thin air and wiped his head, complaining, "Alright, go on with your second point."
"The second reason is that you have no credibility with me. You said you'd help me, but you haven't delivered."
"How have I not delivered?"
Agares' rage was explosive, flames burning on his head, with boiling oil bubbling on his hair.
"You said you wanted to attend university, so I went to great lengths to arrange for a befuddled old country squire to become your cheap uncle, and used his connections to get you into the newly founded University of London.
In return, you were supposed to provide me with a steady supply of souls. That was our agreement!
Now you've successfully become an outstanding university graduate, I've fulfilled my promise, and now it's your turn to fulfill your end of the bargain!"
Arthur was unfazed by Agares' fiery outburst, replying coldly.
"I'm honored that you consider me an excellent university graduate. If only the bankers and politicians thought the same."
"Oh..."
Agares couldn't help but stifle his laughter at this, though the amusement still twinkled in his eyes.
"Arthur, don't be so pessimistic. I believe that one day the University of London will surely be granted a royal charter by the Crown and Parliament. When that happens, your degree will be recognized by society. But until then, you'll have to endure."
"A devil telling me to endure?"
Arthur loosened his collar, trying to make his neck more comfortable.
"Agares, I think you should convert to Calvinism. Being a devil doesn't seem to suit you. Or perhaps, you knew all along that the University of London wouldn't get a charter, so you deliberately had me attend this unaccredited institution to cultivate my antisocial tendencies, making me more useful to you?"
Agares' grin stretched almost to his ears, and he clasped his hands together, speaking softly: "Arthur, you really are like a little worm inside my belly. You're seeing right through me. But how did you know my thoughts?"
Arthur glanced at him, picked up his leather bag, and opened the door: "Because this isn't the first time I've experienced it. Gaining knowledge but being unable to find corresponding work, this kind of thing is bound to turn someone into a rebel."
A giant maw suddenly appeared before Arthur, filled with blood and bones crammed between the sharp teeth, and a massive, pendulum-like tonsil swayed in the air.
"But what difference does it make if you've seen through it? Asking the devil for happiness is foolishness in itself. Obey me, and perhaps you still have a chance to change your fate."
Arthur frowned slightly, disdainfully raising his hand to cover his nose: "Agares, you should see a doctor. This level of halitosis can't be explained by just a simple cold."
"Our contract is crystal clear, Arthur Hastings. Your soul has long belonged to me. If you can't satisfy my hunger, I'll just have to eat you as a snack."
"What did you just call me?"
"Arthur Hastings," Agares sneered, bursting into arrogant laughter. "Have you lost your nerve so badly that you've forgotten your own name?"
Arthur sighed and asked wearily, "Who told you that was my name?"
"Hmm?"
Agares suddenly felt uneasy: "You—you mean that isn't your name? Impossible."
Arthur rolled his eyes and then flipped Agares off.
"I've told you many times, my name is Yang Fan. As for this Arthur Hastings you keep mentioning, I'd love to know where he is.
If you can find his soul, then before you eat him, make sure to summon him so I can have a word with him.
And by the way, if you can't make me fabulously wealthy, then please get out of my way. This little worm of yours needs to go to work."