Chapter Text
In the Tower of Babel, workaholism was nothing new, nor anything remarkable. Demons who had even briefly glimpsed the vision of the summit longed to reach it and, of course, to remain there. The workers here were the elite of the demon world, for whom such an idea hung overhead every single day. All had already reached rank chet (8) or higher, so they no longer needed to desperately climb the hierarchy. And yet, they strove daily to prove their worth, as if unsure of it themselves. They worked at the cost of their own health, and the only one who saved them from total ruin was Iruma Sullivan.
And now, even the king himself fell victim to endless labor. Recently, his self-proclaimed spear and beloved, Alice Asmodeus, began to notice. He made sure Iruma did not overexert himself, trying to take on every task he could in his place, but it was still not enough.
Iruma did not like allowing it, believing that overworking himself was his duty now that he had become someone influential and important in the Netherworld. He still thought of himself as lesser, unworthy of his position—something that pained Asmodeus deeply, though with every conversation, it slowly improved.
“You’ve done enough for today, Iruma-sama.”
“Yes, I know, I know—just let me finish this, then I’ll come upstairs to you,” he said, pointing at the gargantuan stack of papers behind his desk, grotesque in its size.
Asmodeus knew that by the time Iruma finished, it would already be long after dark. And it was only the beginning of summer in the Netherworld, when days were longest. Even the beautiful weather, tempting one to leave the Tower of Babel, did not stop the Demon King from sacrificing nights to work. Later, he would sleep until noon, then wake half-conscious and return to his duties.
“There’s always tomorrow. You’ve finished the urgent ones, haven’t you? You can leave the rest—nothing will happen.”
“But these documents are important. If I leave them, not only will I fail my duties, I’ll make things harder for others. If I have influence over demons’ lives, I’ll do everything I can to make them better.”
The same explanation, every time. Asmodeus understood the burden on Iruma’s shoulders but he could no longer watch this.
He decided that, for the first time, he would oppose Iruma strongly enough to force him to rest.
“Master Iruma, I truly understand your responsibility. I am proud of how you’ve grown and what a worthy demon you’ve become. I admire you... but I fear for your health and well-being. You are losing yourself in work, forgetting what matters most: yourself.”
Iruma sighed lightly. “It’s really nothing, Azz and you don’t have to be so formal, no one’s here.”
“If I am to be direct…” he paused, gathering courage. “You are overworking yourself. Everyone is worried—especially me. You need a vacation, or you will work yourself into collapse and won’t be able to help anyone. Your priority must be caring for yourself first, so you can care for others.”
“I’m sorry for worrying you. I just want to do my job well. Give me six minutes, and I’ll take a break.”
“This isn’t about a short break—it’s about real rest. Others need it too. They’re trying to keep up with you.”
After a moment of thought, Iruma began to smile suspiciously.
“…Hmm. How about a few days off for the crowns of Babel Tower?”
Asmodeus finally smiled. “Then I propose Kraken Beach.”
⋆.𐙚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.𐙚˚
“Yaaay, I knew Iruma-chi would get bored of work eventually!”
“That’s not it, Clara,” Azz corrected. “Its normal that everyone needs rest.”
They rode in a large van packed to the brim with floaties, rings, and suitcases. They had even managed to strap a grill to the roof. They were heading toward a wooden summer cottage, where they would spend the coming days—after finishing all the work left in the Tower.
Asmodeus and Jazz took turns driving. Sabnock had planned to drive, but unexpectedly discovered he suffered from motion sickness—something he had never known, as he had never traveled long distances by car. Still, he insisted he could handle anything as the Demon King’s rival.
Unfortunately Allocer didn't show up, he was going to a scientific convention where he would be giving lectures and no one wanted to stop him, knowing how much he loves it.
After initial battles over seating, everyone was now content. Jazz drove, with Alice and Iruma beside him. Behind them sat Sabnock by an open window, fanned by Clara. Soi and Lied joined their row. The biggest problem had been seats—there were eleven, but twelve of them. The solution was simple: Kamui rode on the roof, having been pushed out by the girls. At first he had squeezed inside between them, Agres, and Gaap, but after several troublesome incidents, he was thrown out to everyone’s delight. They even considered tying him behind the car, but the others stopped them.
Most of the journey had passed, and patience was wearing thin. After singing radio hits played by Lied and playing guessing games with Clara, only one thing remained: the snack war.
When they heard the faint rustle from Iruma’s seat, they knew what was coming. Tense, ready, they waited until he fully opened the bar—then lunged.
Iruma defended his prize fiercely, fending off several demons at once. He was lucky, the two beside him did not join: Jazz was driving regretting that he cannot fight and Azz defended him.
“Hey! Calm down or I’ll drive us off the road!” Jazz shouted.
They reluctantly stopped, apologizing sheepishly.
“I can give you one each. I brought enough for everyone. Sometimes you just have to ask instead of attacking.”
Iruma pulled out a bag large enough to feed a clan for months and handed out sweets. As he leaned to grab more, he felt movement behind him—before he could turn, all the bars vanished.
Only Clara’s laughter filled the van.
Tension rose as Azz turned, ready to strike—but Iruma only looked at them, disappointment clear. After everything they had been through together, they still stole food that would have been given freely.
Clara froze, bar in her hand. She only meant to joke—not to disappoint him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, really, Iruma-chi…” she said, putting them back.
However, this did not change much in Iruma's expression or the overall tension in the car.
“No, I understand.”
In a heavier atmosphere, he handed out the rest. Clara hesitated, but took hers when he told her it wouldn’t change anything—and that he would believe in her next time.
“Why didn’t I get one?!” Sabnock protested.
“With your motion sickness? Not a good idea.”
“As if I couldn’t handle it! The Demon King’s rival won’t be defeated by a mere snack!”
“Where did that energy come from…?” Azz muttered.
"Driving a car won't kill me" saying this, he took a lot of sweets from the bag in front of Iruma.
⋆.𐙚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.𐙚˚
For the rest of the trip, Sabro leaned out the window, vomiting until he collapsed. Clara, closest to him, handed him bags given by others—but since Jazz had to keep stopping to dispose of them, they eventually just left the window open.