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The custom in their town is an old one.
“Every fifty years,” the town elder says, placing a hand on Seongwoong’s shoulder, “a young virgin man is taken to the temple during the Winter Solstice and left there overnight.”
To be perfectly honest, Seongwoong has never talked to her before in his life. He nods along anyway, because it’s only the polite thing to do. Next to her is the local priest, a man he vaguely recognizes from local festivals and the like, the kind that his mom drags him to for auspicious occasions.
“It’s to appease the Unkillable Demon King,” the local priest nods, handing him a dark robe. “He used to rain curses upon the land, but lessened his wrath in exchange for this arrangement.”
Seongwoong eyes the cloth in his hands, feeling the scratchy texture against his fingertips. “Okay, so I just have to spend a night here? What’s with all the fuss?”
Here being the temple he’s standing in front of, an older-looking building with some pretty flowers outside. It’s not too old-looking, and honestly looks almost indistinguishable from the library right next to it, if not for the swooping curves of the roof.
The priest solemnly closes his eyes for a brief moment of respect. “You may never return,” he says, opening his eyes once more. “In the past, the Unkillable Demon King used to take the offerings, and we’d never see the person again. It’s been said in legends that he eats their souls, leaving them as empty husks.”
“And you want me to be the sacrifice?” Seongwoong asks, unable to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. “Why?”
“There’s just not that many men your age that are virgins,” the priest shrugs, and ouch, okay. “We asked your mother and some friends, and none of them mentioned any sort of relationships. Were we mistaken?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.
He’s right, which is somehow the worst part about this whole thing, including the prospects of getting kidnapped. Seongwoong sighs, mumbling a small no, that’s right under his breath.
The priest smiles. It’s probably meant to be comforting. “And, in our modern society, I don’t feel particularly comfortable about offering children. You’re what, 28? You’ve lived much more life than most others who’ve been in this situation.”
He shows Seongwoong a ₩50k bill.
“Some compensation for your mother. I’ll deliver it to her right before we take you to the temple.”
“This is the price of a few meals.” Seongwoong’s voice is hollow. “You think my soul’s worth like, a night of BBQ?”
The priest frowns, stroking his beard. “I don’t make a lot of money appeasing the local spirits. Kids these days don’t seem to have any respect for them.”
The town elder steps forward, her eyes shining. “It’ll be alright, Seongwoong-ah. As far as I know, the Unkillable Demon King hasn’t taken a sacrifice in a bit of time — my son was the one chosen 50 years ago, and he stayed safe and sound that night and lived to tell the tale. The one before him was fine as well. You should be alright.”
“...Okay,” he acquiesces, if only because of how sincere the ajumma sounds. “I’ll do it.”
“Is there anything you need to retrieve from your house?” the priest asks. “It’ll be a long night. I’d recommend a pillow at the very least.”
Seongwoong thinks about it for a few seconds. “Is there running water? Electricity? …Wi-Fi?”
“Of course. Most modern buildings have all three, you know. The temple receives plenty of visitors every year.” The priest sniffs, like he’s somehow offended that Seongwoong asked, even though he’s the one trying to honor some weird centuries-long tradition.
In that case, he’ll just bring a duffle bag for one night and his Switch to pass the time. It should only be one night at the temple. He’ll be fine, right?
His mother is understandably worried when Seongwoong leaves, sniffing into her handkerchief as he waves goodbye, but he can’t seem to feel any fear or sadness about the whole situation. “You’re awfully brave, boy,” the priest comments, waiting in the driver’s seat as Seongwoong deposits his duffle bag in the back. “Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye?”
Seongwoong shrugs. “It’s just for one night. I’ll be fine.”
“Ooookay.” The car ride is short — their town isn’t large by any means, but the temple’s located on the other side from his house — and before he knows it, he’s standing outside the small, well-maintained building once more.
“I’m going to have to lock you inside,” the priest says apologetically, giving him a tour of the branch he’s staying in. “Tradition says that we have to prevent any escapees. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Isn’t that against the fire code or something?” Seongwoong asks.
“Maybe before, but not now.” He shakes his head. “There are a few emergency exits. One’s down that hallway, actually. But if you open the door, it’ll alert the fire department and set off a very loud siren, so…”
“So don’t run away. Got it.” Seongwoong nods. He just has to take everything in stride for now. “Is that all?”
The priest shrugs. “Yeah, pretty much. I’m going to lock you in now. Call me if you need anything.”
“Okay.” With a twist of a key or two, the doors lock, and the building falls incredibly silent. He checks the time. 5 PM. Well, as good a time to play Animal Crossing as any, he supposes, lying down on some carpeted floor he finds and pulling out his Switch. I’ll just check up on my island…
Seongwoong wakes up to the feeling of cold, hard floor digging into his back. “Ow,” he complains, rolling over and clutching his pillow. “Ow, ow, ow.” Somewhere, his Switch falls off his body with a light clatter. He probably fell asleep while playing games — after Animal Crossing, he had moved to Hades to try to progress further into the game.
“I should go charge my Switch…” he mutters to himself, thankful that he had packed its charger for this very occasion.
When he palms around in the darkness for the strap to his bag, he’s met with an oddly rough and freezing cold texture.
Seongwoong pauses.
There hadn’t been any floor like this in the temple — not as far as the priest had shown him, at least — and he could have sworn he had the foresight to at least rest on some carpet. After cautiously groping around some more, he finds his phone lying not too far from him. He shines its flashlight at his surroundings.
“Where… am I?” he breathes out, eyeing the stone flooring and walls. There’s a simple wooden door at the far side of the room, and there’s some… large circular raised platform underneath him. Definitely not the temple, then, he thinks to himself, and the panic starts to set in.
“Hello? Anyone there? Hellooo?” he calls.
All that answers him is the echo of his voice from the room.
“Funny prank, Mr. Priest! I’d like to go home now!”
Silence answers.
If Seongwoong wasn’t already sitting down on the ground, he’s sure he would have fainted by now. “Fuck.” He clambers over to his duffle bag and checks the contents of it. All of it seems to be untouched, thankfully, and he quickly shoves his Switch into his case and stands up with unsteady feet. Wherever he is, he needs to get out, stat.
And then, just as he’s found the resolve to start walking, footsteps echo from beyond the wooden door, and he freezes in place.
“—e nothing, nobody does that anymore. Last sacrifice I got was a hundred—” The door swings open to reveal a lanky man, who seems normal aside from the black and red horns on his forehead. “...years… ago…”
He stares at Seongwoong.
Seongwoong stares back, a deer caught in the headlights.
The man sighs. “Minhyung,” he says, “There’s a guy in the sacrifice room. I’ll call you back later.”
When he raises his hand to his ear, Seongwoong notices the singular earbud in it, which he taps.
“Um.” The man scratches his head. “I’m Sanghyeok, the Unkillable Demon King. I don’t need any offerings or sacrifices, so you can leave whenever you want. Just — don’t go back to your hometown.”
Seongwoong continues staring, practically speechless. “...What?”
“I’m gonna go—” Sanghyeok makes a jerking motion with his thumb— “back upstairs now. Feel free to come along, but I really don’t know why you’re here. Seriously,” he mutters, turning around, “I don’t even curse crops anymore.”
This has to be a prank, Seongwoong faintly thinks to himself. This is all some big, elaborate joke. Those horns are from some cosplay, and the priest just thought it would be super funny, and my mom’s just in on the joke. Yeah.
“Okay,” he faintly says to himself. “Okay.” He heaves a breath. “Okay.” And he takes the first step—
—and nearly falls off the platform thing he’s standing on. Fuck.
Leaving is easier said than done, considering the man — Sanghyeok, was it? — hadn’t even given him directions on how to leave his house.
“Please don’t be mad at me for snooping,” Seongwoong mutters to himself.
Sanghyeok did seem rather laid-back, so hopefully he won’t mind if Seongwoong searches for a way out.
As he passes through rooms and honest-to-god hallways, it becomes increasingly clear that mansion is a much better term for the place he’s in right now. It’s all incredibly empty, though, and at some point it starts to get a bit creepy.
Don’t rich people have like, maids or butlers or something to take care of their place? he wonders to himself, passing through another doorway, and pauses.
Is this ‘Unkillable Demon King’ guy rich? I mean, surely, with all of this here…
He hears a faint sound from… somewhere around him, a stark contrast to the silence that greeted him before. “Hello?” he asks, before his common sense kicks in. “Is anyone there?”
No response. Against his better judgement, he starts investigating. Eventually, the sound gets louder as he traverses in the right direction, and he hears — a voice? And not just any voice, either, but one that sounds like it might belong to Sanghyeok.
“—ey FFed, what a shame,” the voice says. Some noisy clicking and clacking follows.
Seongwoong’s interest is piqued. A computer? He pushes open the slightly ajar door and winces as he puts his duffle bag on the ground, the sound louder than he had expected.
When he looks up from his bag, Sanghyeok’s looking back at him, perched with his knees pressed to his chest in his surprisingly modern Secretlab chair. Even more of a surprise is the PC that sits on the desk behind him, decked out in RGB Corsair fans and the works — although Seongwoong can’t see his monitor from where he’s standing.
“I thought you’d be gone by now.”
Seongwoong winces. “Yeah, um, about that. I couldn’t really figure out how to leave.”
“Oh.” Sanghyeok blinks at him once, twice, and brings his hand up to fidget with his bangs. “I forgot to give you permission to see the exit. Sorry. Forgot about that.”
He claps his hands once. Nothing seems to happen, at least as far as Seongwoong can tell.
“That’s fixed now. I have to reiterate — don’t go back to your hometown. That means a lot of paperwork for me, and it’s annoying and tedious.”
Seongwoong takes a deep breath, fighting the stab of irritation that lances through him, and exhales. “First of all, it’s my hometown. I have nowhere else to go. Second of all, you’re the king of hell. You need to do paperwork?”
“You know, the whole ‘demon king’ moniker is just a nickname. I’m not actually the king of anything. I think.” Despite the dismissive tone in his voice, the ends of Sanghyeok’s mouth quirk up a little bit, the — demon? devil? guy? — seemingly pleased by the misunderstanding. “And yes. It sucks. There are better uses of my time elsewhere than the bureaucracies of hell.”
“So, then, uh, where am I supposed to go?” Seongwoong asks. “All I have on me is this.” He lifts the duffle bag.
Sanghyeok shrugs. “I don’t know. Wherever your heart desires.”
That’s… not helpful at all.
The demon ki— just a demon, Seongwoong reminds himself — is already beginning to lose interest, turning around to his computer and clicking around.
“Look —” Seongwoong says, if only just to get the demon to actually pay attention — “I thought demons ate souls, or whatever hokey thing it was that the priest was spouting last night. I have a soul. Why are you letting me leave?”
Sanghyeok spins around in his chair. “Because eating souls is so incredibly 14th century. We’re in the 21st century now, Seongwoong. The modern era. If humans have adapted, why can’t demons?”
“I — I never told you my name,” Seongwoong numbly says.
“You didn’t have to.” The demon smiles, close-lipped and impersonal. “I’m a demon, after all. But, to answer your question, I’ve found a much more enjoyable way to feed off of humans.” Sanghyeok pushes himself to the side to reveal his monitor, lit up with an interface that Seongwoong is very familiar with.
“League of Legends?” he blurts out in disbelief. “What?”
“There’s a reason they say the experience is soul-sucking,” Sanghyeok snickers. “The amount of misery this game generates is noteworthy. I’m surprised that demons didn’t think of this tactic sooner.”
“Uhuh.” The queue conveniently pops right then.
Sanghyeok accepts the queue, wheeling himself in front of his monitor again. “Anyways, you’d best be on your way.”
And, for the third time, irritation zings through him. “I don’t know where to go,” he says, just a bit louder, in case Sanghyeok can’t hear him over the sound in his earbuds. “You’ve been doing this for centuries. I can’t be the only person you’ve had who can’t leave!”
Something in his brain dings!, like he’s just experienced a shock or gotten cold water poured on him.
Can’t leave… echoes in his head. Can’t leave…
“Sanghyeok,” he finds himself saying, the idea so ludicrous but maybe, just maybe—
He brings himself closer, hovering just behind Sanghyeok’s chair, slightly to the side.
“— do I have to leave?”
“I mean, why wouldn’t you?” Sanghyeok says. He’s in Champion Select. Someone types in chat, “teemo top pls,” and he instantly bans the champion out, like a monster. “This is hell. Humans don’t like it.”
“Yeah, but do I have to leave?” Seongwoong repeats.
Sanghyeok slowly looks up at him and blinks. “No. I suppose not.”
“Then I’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future,” he declares, picking up and setting his duffle bag down for the decisive thump it makes on the ground. “Um, if it’s alright with you, of course.”
Sanghyeok shrugs and returns to his monitor. “Okay.” He picks Yasuo.
Three minutes later, he’s already 0/2. The Unkillable Demon King, indeed.
And so, somehow, Seongwoong finds himself living in (literal) hell. It’s oddly similar to living in real life, except for the fact that the skies are blood red when he steps outside, which is unnerving enough that he doesn’t try going anywhere further than Sanghyeok’s lawn. There’s no tortured screams of the damned, random fires, or even random ghoulish souls floating about.
It’s…normal.
Sanghyeok is a decent host, too. Well, not really, considering how unfamiliar the demon is with human living, but he’s much more nice and laidback than Seongwoong would have expected. The relaxed demeanor is all he can ask for, considering he’d basically strong-armed the demon to let him live in his house.
If anything, he’d feel bad about being ungrateful for complaining, but when Sanghyeok drops another soggy bag of fast food in front of his door, he knows he has to put his foot down.
“Sanghyeok, why do you keep giving me… this… as a meal?” Seongwoong asks, stepping into the nearest combined living-dining room. For some reason, it has a table in the middle with a couch on either side, like the world’s fanciest, worst restaurant booth.
The demon rolls over on one of the sofas. “What about it?” he mumbles.
“It’s cold,” Seongwoong stresses, pulling out the grease-soaked burger. A few limp pieces of shredded lettuce flutter down onto the table. “Where’d you order this from, hell’s kitchen?”
“No,” Sanghyeok shakes his head. “DoorDash.”
Somehow, that’s even worse than what Seongwoong imagined.
“And why are you ordering DoorDash?” he asks, sighing when he pulls out the equally limp fries. “You know what that is?”
Sanghyeok shrugs. “I asked people in All Chat and they said these places, and I downloaded the app, and it took half an hour longer to get here than estimated. Honestly, maybe we should bring it here. It’d make torturing humans for an eternity a bit easier.”
Seongwoong closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and sets down the food entirely. “Sanghyeok. I appreciate that you’re thinking of me.”
“Mmm.”
“But I need real food. And I mean real food, not junk food. I can’t sustain myself on the misery of League of Legends players like yo— you’re not listening to me.”
“Mmhm.” Sanghyeok absentmindedly agrees, only realizing something’s amiss when Seongwoong plucks his phone out of his hand. “Hey. Give that back,” he petulantly says, seeming not at all like a literal demon from literal hell.
“What even is this?” Seongwoong asks, staring at the bizarre game Sanghyeok has pulled up on his screen. There’s so much going on. He clicks the down arrow on the activity, revealing the name.
Farm… merge… valley?
Well. He could have guessed that from the farm animals, he supposes.
“I was merging my farm, okay,” Sanghyeok says, frowning a tiny bit. “I had to get all my boxes down before I merged the farm animals together. It’s the game I play when I don’t feel like terrorizing humanity.”
“Okay, well,” he tosses the phone back to the devil, “at least listen to me while you… merge…? your animals together.”
“You humans complain so much,” Sanghyeok complains. “This is my house.”
“And I’m the human that has to eat real food. Look. Can we just get groceries? And I mean going to a real grocery store, not… weird magical groceries where you snap your fingers and little baby devils deliver it to your house, or something like that.”
Sanghyeok stretches out on the couch. “That only happens in heaven. Here, it’d probably be delivered by some lower-level devil, like the one that gave us the DoorDash food. But sure, we can do that. How about in… four days? I want to terrorize more souls.”
By terrorize more souls, he means play League of Legends.
“Sanghyeok,” Seongwoong warns, a low edge creeping into his voice. “Humans need regular meals every single day. At least have the decency to schedule it for tomorrow. You can take a break from playing games for one hour.”
“Yeah,” the demon says, the ends of his lips curling into a smile, “I could.”
“And you will,” the human stresses. “You are making my life very difficult right now.”
Sanghyeok makes a pleased noise, like the purr of a cat. “Good. That’s what demons do.”
The next day, with a snap of his fingers, Sanghyeok teleports them to the nearest grocery store.
Seongwoong stares at the familiar blue logo and capital letters spelling A-L-D-I and thinks, wow, this really is hell, huh.
“Not a fan?” Sanghyeok asks.
Seongwoong shakes his head. “Not in the slightest.”
A few days later, Seongwoong’s in the middle of figuring out the terrible laundry situation at the mansion when Sanghyeok walks in, notices his struggle, and starts poking at his things instead of, you know, helping.
“What’s with the sack?”
Seongwoong turns behind him and sees Sanghyeok lifting something out of his suitcase with bored interest. A dark cloth-looking thing dangles from the demon’s arms.
“Oh.” Seongwoong hums. “I think the old priest guy gave me that. I have no idea why.”
“Old priest guy?” Sanghyeok tilts his head. “So the guy that sacrificed you to me.”
“Well,” Seongwoong winces, “when you put it that way…”
“This weaving technique’s from three centuries ago,” Sanghyeok says, examining the cloth a little closer. “I’m surprised it held up so well. Ceremonial garments do tend to be better-kept, though.”
Seongwoong looks down at the bleach-stained shirt in his hands — courtesy of the malfunctioning washer — and back at the garment. “Is it some historical artifact? Should I be washing that in the laundry machine?” he warily asks, thinking about the three other damaged clothes he’s already pulled out of the washer.
Sanghyeok shrugs. “It would probably matter to humans, but I don’t care. And if it was for some ritual involving me, then it really doesn’t matter.”
“So I can wash it with the rest of my stuff.” Seongwoong sighs when he pulls out yet another ruined shirt — this time with a hole in the middle of the chest area. “What is up with this place? How did this even happen?”
Unceremoniously dropping the robe back into the suitcase, Sanghyeok laughs and rolls over on the ground. “It’s hell. You asked for it when you decided to stay here.”
Seongwoong rolls his eyes. “But you have to help me, Sanghyeok. It’s your fault that I’m here.”
“I could eat you right now and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing.” The demon’s voice floats upward into the air from wherever he’s lying down. “I’m sure your soul will be delicious. Maybe even a little spicy, like gochujang.”
He places his hands on his hips. “Okay, then do it,” Seongwoong dares him, raising an eyebrow even though the demon can’t see him. “You like gochujang.”
Seongwoong blearily lifts his head. “How do you know that?”
“You told me at the grocery store and got disappointed when they didn’t have anything like that there.” He shakes his head. “Of course they wouldn’t.”
“When you said Aldi’s was bad, I thought you meant, like, the third circle of hell, not the eighth,” Sanghyeok complains. “I would’ve taken you to a mildly less bad grocery store, like a Wal-Mart with employees that snitch if you shoplift.”
“Still not eating my soul here, Sanghyeok.” Egging on one of the demon kings of hell to eat his soul is probably a bad idea, but whatever. He already agreed to the sketchy stay a night at the temple as a sacrifice deal already, so it’s not like he can go any lower from here.
“Too lazy.” Sanghyeok’s voice is muffled. “Ask me later. I’m busy.”
“You’re on the floor,” Seongwoong points out, because he really does not learn his lessons.
“Yeah, I am. And I’m playing Hello Kitty Island Adventure, so I don’t have time to eat your soul.” Sanghyeok sniffs. “Hello Kitty would be sad if I did.”
“The great Unkillable Demon King can’t eat my soul because of Hello Kitty.” If Seongwoong’s voice is a little incredulous, well, that’s not his fault.
“Yeah. She’s scary. There’s only a few demons I respect, after all.”
Seongwoong pauses, his thumb hovering over the power button on the dryer.
Sensing his confusion, Sanghyeok looks up from his phone. “Think of all the merchandise and the microtransactions, Seongwoong. They all have to come from somewhere.”
He dazedly starts the laundry load. “You’re joking.” In response, Sanghyeok turns up the volume of his game, if only just to be an inconvenience.
“Nice Animal Crossing island,” a voice says from behind Seongwoong’s shoulder.
Seongwoong shrieks and nearly drops his Switch. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his chest heaving, “oh my god, do not do that again.”
Sanghyeok smirks at him and, just to be annoying, sits right next to his feet on the couch. This one is longer and wider than a regular couch and is awkwardly off-centered in the room, but Seongwoong has long since accepted that everything in Sanghyeok’s hell residence is inconvenient at best. “Can I see your island?”
“No. Who knows what you’re going to do with it?” Last time Seongwoong handed him one of his games — his beautiful Tamagotchi that he affectionately named Rek’Sai — Sanghyeok had somehow killed her in the span of two minutes. He still doesn’t know how the demon managed it. Just to emphasize his point, he brings his Switch closer to his face. “You don’t get to see it.”
In the span of a few seconds, Sanghyeok wriggles next to him on the couch, neatly sliding next to him. “Says who?” he smugly says, reaching out to touch the screen. “I can see everything this way.”
He’s… pressed pretty close to Seongwoong, and seems to be pretty comfortable too, since the awkwardly wide couch gives the demon room to lie down next to Seongwoong without the repercussions of falling off. Seongwoong chooses to ignore him and goes to deliver his fossils like a good island developer.
“Your island’s not that bad,” Sanghyeok says after a few seconds. “The design and layout are really nice.”
Seongwoong glances at him. “You play?”
The demon’s eyes remain fixated on Seongwoong’s screen. “I did for a bit,” he eventually says. “Didn’t seem that fun, though. I don’t have anyone whose island I can visit.”
“Oh.”
They lie down in silence for a little bit after that. Really, what can Seongwoong even say in response to that? And to a demon king, no less?
Sanghyeok breaks the silence first. “... I didn’t know peaches were a fruit in this game,” he comments, watching Seongwoong’s little villager shake the trees. “I only have cherries.”
Seongwoong whips his head to the left, barely missing Sanghyeok’s head by an inch. “I need cherries,” he excitedly says. “You have them?”
“Ah, um, yeah,” Sanghyeok murmurs. His eyes dart to the side. “I can see if I have the game somewhere.” He rolls off the couch and disappears with more agency than Seongwoong’s seen from Sanghyeok in the entire month he’s known him.
A little bit later, he returns. “My island’s not that pretty,” Sanghyeok sheepishly says, scratching the back of his head. “Just so you know.”
“I don’t mind,” Seongwoong dismisses it with a shake of his hand, sitting upright and scooting down to the middle of the couch. “Let me show you how we can connect to each other’s islands.”
Sanghyeok sits down next to him, strangely docile. “Okay.” He sits through Seongwoong’s explanations, compliant and sincere as he tries to connect to the human’s island. When he makes it through, Seongwoong gives him a run-down of co-op information.
“And you can emote at each other using this button, like this.” Seongwoong makes his character smile and clap for Sanghyeok.
“Oh,” Sanghyeok says, a soft smile emerging on his face. “That’s… really nice, actually.” He makes his character cheer for Seongwoong. “I didn’t know this game had that.”
“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Seongwoong softly asks, watching Sanghyeok’s eyes shine as he interacts with Seongwoong’s island.
Sanghyeok nods, depositing the cherries to Seongwoong and picking up his peaches. “It is. It feels nice.”
Seongwoong hums. “We should game together more often,” he offers. “It doesn’t have to be Animal Crossing. It can be anything else. Stardew Valley, maybe, or Minecraft? I’ll even queue with you on League of Legends.”
Sanghyeok perks up at the mention of League. “We can be a bot duo or a mid-jungle duo,” he jokes, his eyes lighting up all the same. “My support skills are the stuff of bronze-tier legends. And not the good kind,” he adds. In-game, he makes his character do a Sheepish expression.
In response, Seongwoong sets his character to the Joy expression. “That’s okay,” he says, nudging the demon next to him. “You’ve got to feed off of misery somehow. At least it won’t partially be your own.”
Sanghyeok stares at him for a beat, then two beats. “...Yeah,” he finally says. “I guess so.”
fin.