Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
The demon king grunted. “True. They are simple creatures who are good at one or two specific tasks. They don’t strive to be anything else, and they are happy with their station.” Zalramon threw his arms out to either side of him, motioning to all the underworld. “Everyone was happy.” He dropped his arms and glared at Sky. “Until the sandwiches.”
“Eep.”
“Now we’ve all heard about these sandwiches, as well as the other unique treats you’ve provided. Demons want what the minions have. Demons are coming to me, demanding to know how to get on your job list. These sandwiches and squishy stuffies have become a secondary currency in the underworld. They threaten everything!”
Yes, Sky had to admit this was bad.
He almost wanted to mention that this barter system was the same one that his grandmother had used. The same one her mother and grandmother had used. Except he knew he used the minions far more often than she ever had. She’d always been more hands-on with her spells and other work.
Sky had always seen the minions as valuable time savers. He had a busy life with friends and a day job. Now he had an almost-boyfriend—one he wanted to turn into a full-time boyfriend with strong future-husband potential. There was no way he could waste an entire day hunting ingredients and crafting complicated spells to deal with ghosts. Not when he could spend five minutes on a sandwich or some other small thing and let a minion do it.
Besides, it wasn’t like anyone had ever told him to slow down in his minion usage. Or that he needed to limit himself to one minion visit per six months.
Oh, Lord. How could he manage with one use per six months? He probably had minions popping in at least two or three times a week.
Fuck. What if Zalramon wants me to quit cold turkey?
No. There had to be another way.
“I am terribly sorry for this mess I’ve created. I didn’t know it was causing such chaos for you. It was never my intention,” Sky apologized a bit breathlessly.
How many freaking stairs are there?
They reached the top, but the demon king didn’t pause for a second. He continued to lead the way through a massive two-story entrance and along a multi-columned corridor covered in shiny black marble. At least, it looked like marble. The floor was smooth like glass. Maybe it was obsidian.
Sky was still pondering the floor when a deep boom echoed through the hall and his head popped up to see a pair of enormous iron-banded wood doors thrown open. Yep, the underworld borrowed from lots of old fantasy novels he’d read.
Do the dead remember passing through the underworld? Is that why some of this seems so familiar?
Sky stepped inside the massive room and nearly tripped over his own feet. It was almost the size of a soccer pitch and very crowded, with an eager throng of both demons and minions. The creatures he called into his home were misty, ill-defined beings when in the human realm. But here, in their home, they took on sharper definition while still maintaining their dark, fathomless feel. It was as if someone had tightened the focus on them in his mind.
They filled the hall and lined the wide path to a massive black-horned throne. All eyes in the room were on him and the king. Yeah, that wasn’t an unsettling feeling at all.
Zalramon ascended the dais and threw himself onto his giant chair with one leg tossed over the arm. The king smirked at Sky, who was still standing at the foot of the stairs.
“Make me a sandwich,” Zalramon commanded.
“W-what?” Sky stammered. Clearly, this was the word of the day.
“That’s the bet I’ve made with my people. If you can make me the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten in my existence, I will allow you to continue to summon my minions for your tasks.” The king gripped one arm of the chair and used it to lever himself up. He leaned toward Sky, looming over him like a cruel bird of prey. “But if you fail, the door to the underworld will be closed to you for the rest of your living days.”
Oh, fuck.
That…that was insane. It was on the tip of his tongue to argue that the bet was unfair; he would never have agreed to this nonsense. But this was his one chance to keep his helpers and be absolved for the mess his sandwiches and other payments had caused.
“But…but if I win and continue using the minions, won’t that create problems down here?”
Zalramon waved a dismissive hand at him. “I’ll outlaw the secondary currency and make all your rewards nontransferable.” The demon frowned at him again. “But it would be easier for me if you weren’t causing problems in the first place.”