These Demons Do it for Free

Chapter 30

Crackle. Crackle.

The first night in the Abyss was spent camping.

Well, calling it “camping” was a bit of a stretch—it was more like sleeping rough.

But when you have a fire going, a makeshift stand made from sticks to hold a pot over it, it feels like camping, doesn’t it?

Sure, the sleeping arrangement was nothing fancy—no tent, no sleeping bags, just a blanket—but for mages, that wasn’t a big deal. A capable mage can make even the roughest accommodations bearable.

I stirred the bubbling soup, which was coming along nicely, practically inviting me to taste its richness.

"I don’t understand."

"What don’t you understand?" I asked, ready to taste the soup.

Taking a bit into a small dish, I slurped it down. Perfect.

"Everything. You, those guys, this whole situation."

What’s so strange? I had acted logically and calculatedly, as always.

"Why did you let them live?"

"It’d be a waste to kill them. Besides, they’re useful manpower. We don’t have anyone who can use housing magic."

Housing magic, the spell used to construct temporary shelters out of nearby materials. It’s complex and not considered one of the five basic spells, but it’s incredibly useful, earning points in guild and party applications for those who can perform it.

Of course, I can’t use it since I haven’t progressed much beyond basic magic.

But necessity is the mother of invention, right? All you need to do is build it somehow.

That’s why I was currently casting “Physical Housing Magic.”

"Hey, that’s crooked. Fix it properly."

"Y-yes, sir...."

With my “incantation,” the physical housing magic was immediately adjusted.

Why waste manpower?

"...Sigh. And what about that one?"

Mea pointed at the swordsman who had been bitten by her wolf and had his skull cracked by my demon bullet. He would’ve died if I hadn’t intervened.

But for now, he was alive. Though still in a daze, recovering from the shock, he was breathing thanks to the healing magic I allowed the holy sorcerer to use. You could say I was his savior. I planned to charge him dearly for that when he woke up.

"He’s for cross-referencing. He seemed to be the leader, so he might know something the others don’t."

"...Are they really that important to you?"

I had told Mea about the half-elf I was looking for—a fellow team member from the training center.

Among my teammates were not just Leif, but also Ray, though I hadn’t asked about beastfolk.

Naturally, Ray wouldn’t face this kind of trouble.

Unlike Leif, who was training with me on a one-on-one basis, Ray was undergoing training with the Frontier Guild thanks to Arthur’s recommendation.

Messing with someone from one of the five major guilds? You’d have to be insane.

The guild would put out a bounty, mobilize all their connections, and hunt them down in the most brutal way possible—not just these rookie hunters, but anyone who crossed them.

Even the slavers chasing after Ray would be crushed if they tried anything now.

The five guilds aren’t just powerful within the city; their influence extends far beyond.

Ray had likely chosen to accept Arthur’s offer of training with Frontier for that very protection.

After being ambushed once, she’d want to be sure it didn’t happen again.

But back to Mea’s question—are they really that important?

Two weeks may not seem like a long time, objectively speaking.

It’s short.

But it was enough time to form bonds.

"Yes. I think so."

They were the first real relationships I’d formed since coming to this world, excluding my time as a slave.

Leif and Ray were my first real human connections here.

Sure, there were others now, like Arthur, my roommate, Fiona, who taught me basic magic, and my peers who survived the underground, but the first ones are always special.

"Alright... that makes sense," Mea said.

Even if it meant using the price of demonic magic, it was worth it. Understanding this, Mea nodded slightly.

"But there’s still something I don’t get."

"What is it?"@@@@

Hey, that’s a bit unfair. I never needed it, so I never bothered to learn about it....

"It’s exactly what it sounds like—substituting the price of your magic with something else."

"Doesn’t that mean you don’t have to pay the price?"

"It’s less efficient. You can’t just substitute it with anything."

For example, if the price for a spell is one year of your life, you could substitute it with ten years from someone else’s life. But that “someone else” has to be entirely under your control—like a branded demonologist’s thralls.

"That’s generally how it works."

"So, can you substitute someone’s fingers as the price?"

"Fingers?"

"Yes. I once saw a demonologist who paid the price with a finger for every spell."

There was no way those were all his fingers.

Maybe he cut off his own fingers and used healing magic or potions to regenerate them.

At first, that’s what I thought.

"It’s possible, but since it’s another person’s body, you’d need to use supplementary magic."

‘Ah, so that’s why that demonologist was doing side jobs for a slaver,’ I thought.

It also explained why the money I confiscated from him hadn’t brought me much satisfaction.

"It’s still better than not using it at all. Life’s all about wanting to survive a little longer. If you want to extend your life, you should definitely use substitution."

"...I’ll keep that in mind."

That brief hesitation was because I couldn’t bring myself to say that I didn’t really need it.

"Anyway, we should eat dinner. It’s a bit late, but thanks to those guys’ supplies, it should taste pretty good."

Satisfied that the soup was ready, I ladled some out and handed it to Mea.

She took the bowl and spoon in her small hands, hesitantly taking a cautious bite.

"...!"

Her eyes widened.

"Tasty, right?"

"...Yeah. It’s been a while since I’ve had something this good."

"I’ve put a lot of effort into learning how to cook. There’s plenty, so eat as much as you want."

The food in this world was generally terrible compared to Earth.

During my time as a slave and even after, most of the meals I’d had were barely edible.

So I taught myself how to cook with dedication.

I hadn’t had many chances to show off my skills yet, though, since I was always trying to save money.

"...? Why are you putting a bowl next to that guy?"

Mea asked, watching as I placed a bowl of soup beside the unconscious swordsman’s head.

"I’m trying to wake him up with the smell."

"As if that would...."

"Mmm... smells good, Bark. Is it your turn today? But first, some water...."

It’s working, though?

Mea, without saying a word, just focused on her meal.

Letting her enjoy her food, I leaned down and grabbed the bowl the swordsman had been reaching for.

"Did you sleep well? Good evening."

"Wh-what is...?"

"Still groggy, huh? Alright then."

Crunch!

"Aaaargh!"

I pressed down on the back of his hand that had been reaching for the soup bowl, drawing a scream from him.

"Feeling more awake now?"