"I can't stand him."
Riize muttered with a frown. On her hands were two ceramic plates, ready to twist a spin in the air if the man were to utter any more repulsive words to her. "That pesky human, what does he exactly want from me?"
"Love, maybe? It is normal for a vigorous young man at his age to act that way when it comes to the matter of the heart. Moreover, that red-haired retriever can't be any more straightforward with his approach."
From behind her, a faceless slime glided from the direction of the kitchen, saying flatly as if it was stating a matter of fact. It had only slipped out a panicked expression when it saw the valuables in her hands.
"My goodness! Put that only fortune of ours down in this instant, young lady! It's the only remaining thing of value that we have!"
Riize blanked out, nodding upon the realization, "Right, we're struggling. I almost forgot."
She placed the plates back into their exquisite packaging box, wrapping the box carefully with a silk cloth before setting them aside as per the slime's instructions.
"Tsk, be mindful next time!"
The seemingly-displeased slime sternly chided, to which Riize merely rolled her eyes as a reply, unbothered.
That human… To bug her everyday without rest despite her continuous rejection and blatant dislike, what was he thinking? Or to be exact, what does he intend to obtain from her?
Riize furrowed her eyebrows. With an unsettled mind, she retreated to the dressing table in her dimly-lit bedroom, grabbing the fearsome mask of a devil she had casually strewn aside.
As she sat before the only existing mirror in the house, she pulled her hood down, letting the rough fabric crumple on her narrow shoulders. A head of long ginger curls was revealed — gleaming yet ordinary.
Needless to say, she looked not much different from the first time she set foot into the town of Mork, despite the passing of nearly half a year.
Aside from the gruesome patch of burnt mark taking most of the space on her once delicate face, it was the tiny horn poking out of the top center of her forehead that had garnered the most of her attention.
With a face as hideous as this, just what had the human seen in her to be this persistent?
A glint of mirth flashed past her darkened eyes. Love? Hah!
Riize scoffed, her lips curling to form a mocking scowl.
"Utterly ridiculous."
===
Living amongst a sea of humans whilst bearing the identity of a demon was never an easy task to begin with. It was especially so when she was a weakling of a demon with a huge bounty on her head.
To survive, Riize would take on numerous side jobs as long as they earned her, despite having a fixed job as a certified guide. This included collecting antiques and other valuable items upon request to be traded in the fleeting market, a popular trading district near the region.
Likewise, after completing her daily routine, Riize didn't stay for long. She pulled over her hood and wore her devil mask, securing the knot on her cloak tight before she left the house with the silk-wrapped box at hand.
But then, just as she locked the door behind her and took a step forward, her feet seemed to have been tangled by something, causing her to slip.
Without any warning, her body tilted forward and instinctively, she held the box high above her, landing on the ground with her chest first.
Thud!
Riize squeezed her eyes shut as she groaned at the spreading pain.
Her rib cages felt as if they had shattered completely, the tip of her chin bruised and burning from the impact. Fortunately, oh thank the Gods if they exist, the plates were unharmed.
She belatedly thought, until a sudden ominous idea flashed past her mind, prompting her eyes to shot back to the ground where she once stood.
There, lying by the doorstep was a gracefully-flattened bouquet of purple roses and a small yellow note, its surface kissed by a certain someone's footprints.
Her mind first went blank, as if dumbfounded by what she had found. Then, as clarity returned to her, rage started to boil within her, setting her insides ablaze.
Riize hatefully gnashed her teeth and took the note to her palm, furious eyes practically spitting out flames as she scanned at the crooked writing.
[Only the most beautiful flowers can match the most beautiful woman of my dreams. Hope you have a good day, Miss. – From yours truly, your lovely Max]
'THAT DISGUSTING PEST!!!'
The veins on her arms popped out against her skin as Riize crumpled the note with one hand and trampled it under her merciless stomps, the ends of her lips twitching uncontrollably.
"I'll kill him for sure!" She vowed, her tone vicious.
Who cares if her centuries-year-old companion, Pookie the know-it-all slime, warned her countless times not to make an enemy of the man?
Who cares if he truly turned out to be a powerful enemy she shouldn't have offended, just as the slime had speculated?
To dare to toy with her like this… The next time they met, she would definitely twist that cheeky head of his off his neck!!!
…
Meanwhile, in a bar somewhere in town, a certain red-haired retriever sneezed out loud.
"A-CHOO!"
Max rubbed the rims of his nose till they turned red. He lowered his hooded eyes, muttering incoherently. "Someone must have missed me dearly."
The mohawk-cut silver-haired man sitting beside him, Claude, scoffed out loud, but Max ignored him and continued to talk to himself.
"Was it the little kitten, perhaps? I should've known." A bright smile surfaced on his heated face as his lovely eyes turned crescents, "The little thing has always been sharp with her words but deep down, she has a heart too soft for her own good."
"Wake up, will you?" Claude finally couldn't take it any more and rolled his eyes. He knocked a finger against Max's head, earning him a displeased grunt from the foolishly drunk man.
"Shut up. What do you know about playing hard to get, you unromantic guy?" Max fought back with a fangless snarl and Claude could merely shake his head.
"Keep on being stubborn with this little game of yours and don't return crying to me when you lose your head somewhere one day."
"What do you know? This little one of mine is tame," Max weakly complained.
"And I'm telling you that you're being delusional." Claude shot him a sombre look.
His words accurately hit him where it stung, rendering Max listless. If he was truly a puppy, his twitching ears would've folded pitifully and his usually spirited wagging tail would've dropped down by now, deprived of all energy.
Slowly, Max lowered his head and rested his forehead against the long table, eyes almost shut as his breath gradually turned even. The next second he knew, the man was already deep asleep and Claude could only sigh.
As a pang of headache hit him once more, Claude motioned for the bartender to refill his glass, before downing them all with one gulp.
The strong liquid burnt against his throat like fire, but the man's hawk-like eyes remained sharp and clear. His gaze went sideways, fixating on the two commission scrolls tucked in his friend's travel pouch, the same offer that he as a fellow top-notch hunter himself had received.
The mission targeted the same person. What differed them were, one demanded the demon alive, while the other wished for her to be dead — the vicious kind that ordered the target to be hunted upon sight.
A contradicting commission issued by two powerhouses they could neither offend.
Undeniably, the mission wouldn't be as simple as completing one and claiming the prize in the next instant. No matter the side they took, they would be making an enemy of the other and inevitably be pulled into the muddy waters of their political struggle.
There's another option though — to feign ignorance and simply pretend that they've never identified the target.
He had initially thought that Max shared the same idea as him, until he pulled this ridiculous game of seduction.
Claude clenched his jaw, the light in his eyes incomprehensible. Without any doubt, Max had made his choice. What he didn't know was — whose side had his friend exactly taken?