I Swear I'm Not a Demon Masquerading as a Human

Lights began to flicker on along the streets flanking Gela Memorial Plaza, resembling a flowing river of radiance. In the distance, the iconic skyline of Ikerite was visible, and the towering structures looked even more magnificent against the night sky.

Standing there on the street was Talia. She clenched her fists, seething with frustration. She muttered quietly, "Damn it. Why did humans have to be the ones to trigger this?"

A Shadow Realm challenge from an unknown period of the demon kingdom's history was bound to hold a wealth of knowledge that was incredibly valuable to her. However, this broadcast only cycled through fragmented clips. She couldn't watch the entire run on the campus's public screens.

Comprehensive, detailed intelligence was preserved solely by the challenger's Shadow Realm Recording Program. She would have to watch a bit more right here, and somehow get more information later. Just as this thought crossed her mind, Talia frowned slightly. She had realized that the challenger in this Shadow Realm was none other than that nightmare student of hers!

"That guy..." Although Talia couldn't fathom why such an inwardly twisted individual would manifest as a Radiant Demon upon taking on a demonic form, rather than an Abyssal Demon, she was absolutely over the moon with delight that he was there. It was as if Lance was a mysterious shopkeeper about to stock new, exclusive merchandise just for her.

Anything in his possession was something she could potentially trade for, such as all the data stored in Lance's Shadow Realm Recording Program. Talia felt that Lance was like her lucky charm; he always managed to bring her exactly what she wanted. If she wasn't constantly suspecting that the brat harbored some truly wretched thoughts, she might have actually treated him a little better.

However, when she spotted the Poet of Boundless Love on the screen, whose face was an exact replica of her own, her head dropped down. An expression that screamed of a desire to murder Lance flickered on her face.

She immediately turned and strode away, viciously taking a bite of her cheesecake while keeping her head down. She was terrified that the students nearby might notice the resemblance between her and that freakish summoned entity.

He really deserves to die!

***

The corridors of Purgatory Corridor Academy exuded a classical, opulent air, as it was dimly lit and smelled of aged wood that seemed to be imbued with a magic born of the deep past. The corridor ahead vanished into an endless, consuming darkness, shrouded in unfathomable mystery.

The dark marble flooring, adorned with golden patterns, was partially covered by a central carpet featuring a sinister floral motif. Along the walls, eerie portraits and mirrors appeared at regular intervals, seemingly watching the demon students as they passed.

Several students, with a mix of terror and grim determination on their faces, hurried down the hallway. Their footsteps echoed through the vast, empty space, shattering the silence like the opening notes of a frantic chase. Bathed in the dim light, their fleeing figures looked even more terrified, as if they had just escaped some unspeakable nightmare.

While their ultimate destination wasn't clear, their panicked faces suggested a singular desire: to put as much distance as possible between themselves and that madhouse of an examination hall. Yet, trailing at the very back of the group were two other demons whose expressions were far calmer. They moved without being noticed by the students ahead.

Unsure of the academy's rules, Lance and Hyperion didn’t dare to rashly attack the other students. They agreed that using force to capture and interrogate them carried too much risk. The sensation of being watched by those portraits and mirrors was unnerving, and they weren't certain if a wrong move would trigger some hidden mechanism.

Thus, the best strategy was to tail this group that seemed to have some logic left in their heads while in search of the optimal survival plan. They were basically waiting for a chance to win them over through persuasion rather than violence.

Hyperion turned to look at Lance and simply held out the heavy coins she had just scavenged from a corpse toward him. She trusted that Lance, with his quick wits, was the right person to manage the team's finances. Technically, this loot was also rightfully his.

Lance said nothing. He simply nodded and accepted the mysterious coins.

Being with him gave Hyperion a sense of security, as if the safest place in the entire academy was right by his side. However, her feelings were complicated at the moment. She wanted to ask him something, but hesitated to speak.

At first, she had merely worried that their friendship would end if he discovered her demon heritage. But now, a new fear had taken root: if he learned she was truly someone with demon blood, would he turn into a demon hunter and torture her just like he did to the students and examiners in the exam room?

As they ran, Hyperion finally lowered her voice and asked tentatively, "Lance, what do you think of demons?"

Lance was slightly taken aback by the question. This topic of conversation instantly piqued his interest. He chuckled as he answered, "They can live for a long time. Even after living hundreds of years, a female demon will still look like a youthful lady."

He had long wanted to speak his mind on the subject, but no one had ever brought it up with him before. So, it turned out Hyperion was interested in demons too!

For some reason, Hyperion felt that Lance's response was somewhat offensive to her as well. Although she was genuinely in her teens, her lifespan as a half-demon was certainly longer than a human's. A century from now, that casual remark of his would actually be hurtful to her.

Wait, why is his perspective on this topic so...weird?

Still feeling a lingering sense of unease, Hyperion asked, "So, if you encountered a demon in the real world, would you tell them that?"

Lance simply looked at her without saying a word. His silence spoke volumes. Then, he retorted,"Do you think I'm someone who has become tired of living? Like playing Russian roulette just for the thrill of it?"

He then offered his earnest advice. "Setting aside the danger of provoking a demon, there might actually be some good ones out there. Hyperion, you shouldn't discriminate against them."

Hyperion was momentarily stunned by this. Then, she lowered her head, pursed her lips, and said softly, "I see..."

For some reason, the heavy weight that had been pressing down on her heart had vanished completely, and it was all because of Lance's solemn response. She had never imagined that someone, a human, would one day tell her not to discriminate against demons.

Even though what Lance said carried a hint of an out-of-touch, saintly vibe, Hyperion was convinced that he wasn't the hypocritical, self-righteous kind of saint. He was the genuine article. After all, he truly treated everyone equally; not only did he torment demons, but he was also just as ruthless when it came to tormenting his fellow humans.

***

In the span of just a few dozen seconds, the demon students fleeing down the corridor began to frantically act. Some continued to run as if searching for something, while others, disregarding the risks, chose to dash into another classroom.

Based on that, the corridor was just as perilous as the classrooms. Otherwise, these students wouldn't be so eager to find a class to attend.

"We should probably look for an opportunity to do something." If possible, Lance didn't want to waste time casually entering classrooms willy-nilly to go through the motions. Their immediate priority was to gather intelligence on Purgatory Corridor Academy.

Only by understanding the rules could they act with confidence, and even find a way to speed-run the process and locate the ancient demon magic for hairstyle modification that he desperately wanted to learn.

Hyperion naturally understood what Lance meant. There was only one student left ahead of them now. This was as good of a chance as any to have a proper chat with him. She quickened her pace, moving silently and swiftly to grab hold of that "lucky" student.

Upon having his shoulder seized by Hyperion, the demon, who had green scales on his neck, spun around fiercely, raising his hand as if to shove her away. "The hell—!"

However, the moment his eyes focused on Proctor Lance standing behind her, a soul-deep terror washed over him like a tidal wave. His hand froze in mid-air and was left hanging helplessly with nowhere to go.

Lance's lips parted slightly from mild surprise as he took in the green-scaled demon's appearance. As it turned out, the one they had caught was none other than the demon examinee he had previously singled out using Basic Etiquette. That guy had been frozen with fear, yet had somehow managed to escape with his life right under their noses.

What a coincidence! Lance couldn't help but smile slightly as he looked at him. Before he could say a word, the green-scaled demon student was already trembling uncontrollably from fear.

Lance gently said, "Hello."

It was a simple greeting. Yet to the demon, it sounded like a summons from the depths of hell. He felt as though his ancestors were calling him to join them in the afterlife.

With his hands clasped behind his back and still exuding the air of an examiner, Lance walked up to the green-scaled demon student and asked with a smile, "How should I address you?"

The green-scaled demon student's eyes had the quality of a serpent's, and his skin had turned pale and bloodless from terror. His legs quivered so much that it looked like he might collapse at any moment. Driven by a pure instinct to survive, he answered in a stutter, "Ba-Bakar..."

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