Luciel walked away from the food stand, stomach still growling, pride severely wounded.
"I have been cast aside like a lowly imp… rejected over a mere stick of meat!"
Never in his life had he needed something and been denied. In the Demon Realm, his word was absolute. Even lesser demons trembled before him! But here?
A man with a greasy apron had banished him like some unwanted stray.
Luciel clenched his fists, eyes burning.
"No. I refuse to be weak. I must adapt."
He had to learn how this world worked. Money, food, power—these things were not simply granted here. If he was to survive, he needed a strategy.
But first…
His stomach rumbled again.
"I need to eat."
As he walked, he passed by a convenience store. Through the glass, he saw shelves lined with colorful packages, rows of bottled drinks, instant meals, and—
His eyes landed on a golden, crispy piece of bread. A melon pan sat neatly inside a plastic wrapper, resting on a shelf near the counter.
"That… looks like food."
Luciel stepped inside, immediately bombarded by bright fluorescent lights and the low hum of a strange music playing from speakers.
Humans moved about, selecting items, placing them in small baskets. Some stood in line, handing over rectangular slips (money) to a bored-looking worker.
Luciel examined the melon pan again. He had no money. But… what if he simply took it?
"No one is guarding it. In the Demon Realm, possession is dictated by strength."
He glanced left.
He glanced right.
No one was watching.
Slowly, carefully, he reached out—fingers grazing the soft plastic wrapper.
Just as he was about to grab it—
"Hey."
Luciel froze.
A firm hand gripped his shoulder. He turned, coming face to face with a tall man in a uniform, arms crossed, expression unimpressed.
A security guard.
Luciel blinked.
"…Is this bread… forbidden?" he asked seriously.
The guard narrowed his eyes. "You were about to steal that, weren't you?"
Luciel hesitated. Was this a trap? Had they lured him in with the food, only to test his worthiness?
Thinking quickly, he straightened his posture and placed a hand over his chest.
"Foolish mortal. I was merely… examining the quality of your provisions. I would never partake in such disgraceful thievery."
The guard raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then do you have money to pay for it?"
Luciel opened his mouth—then immediately shut it.
His silence said everything.
The guard sighed and rubbed his temples. "Alright, kid. Either you put that back and walk away, or I'll call the cops."
Luciel didn't know what cops were, but they didn't sound pleasant. With great reluctance, he placed the melon pan back on the shelf.
The guard nodded. "Good. Now get lost."
Luciel turned and walked toward the door, but just before stepping out, he stopped.
Then, with dramatic flair, he looked back at the guard over his shoulder and said:
"Very well. But know this, mortal—I shall return. And when I do, I shall possess your finest bread."
Then he walked out, leaving the guard utterly confused.