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Chapter 125: I'm About to Become the Boss, Sir
🕑 Added 2025-08-24 14:34:42 +0000 UTCRussell followed the demon in front of him through the winding underground passages, maintaining the careful silence that had kept him alive this long. The pig-spirit demon moved with the confident stride of someone familiar with these tunnels, navigating turns and intersections without hesitation.
The dim light sources mounted at regular intervals along the ceiling cast pools of wan illumination that did little to dispel the oppressive darkness between them. These weren't torches or magical flames, Russell noted, but some kind of phosphorescent crystal formations that had been carefully made to provide steady, low-level lighting. The engineering required for such a system suggested this underground refuge had been planned and constructed over years, not hastily excavated in response to immediate crisis.
The two figures moved quietly through what could generously be called an alley a narrow passage carved between larger structural elements, lined with doors and openings that suggested a complex network of interconnected spaces. The sound of their footsteps was muffled by accumulated dust and debris, creating an almost ghostly quality to their movement through the subterranean environment.
After what felt like an eternity of walking but was probably only fifteen minutes, the pig-spirit demon finally stopped in front of an unremarkable wooden door. The portal was small, barely wide enough for one person to pass through comfortably, and bore none of the elaborate decorations or magical wards Russell had observed elsewhere in the complex.
"Knock, knock, knock." The pig demon's knuckles against the wood produced a crisp, rhythmic sound that echoed briefly in the narrow space. The pattern was clearly some form of coded identification—three quick, sharp raps followed by a brief pause.
"Who is it?" The response came immediately from behind the door, spoken in a voice that carried the wariness of someone accustomed to unexpected visitors bearing bad news.
"Mission complete," the pig demon replied with professional brevity.
After this brief question-and-answer exchange, Russell heard the distinctive sounds of multiple locks being disengaged from the other side. Heavy bolts sliding back, chains being lifted, the click of what sounded like at least three separate locking mechanisms. When the door finally swung open, it revealed a narrow-faced demon whose eyes darted nervously between the two arrivals.
"Come in quickly," the doorkeeper urged, gesturing them through with obvious anxiety. "The adults are waiting for you, and they don't like to be kept waiting."
Russell followed the pig demon through the doorway and found himself momentarily stunned by what lay beyond. Instead of another cramped tunnel or rough-hewn chamber, he was looking at an immaculately maintained back garden that wouldn't have been out of place in the finest noble estates.
Carefully tended flowerbeds lined gravel pathways that curved through the space with artistic precision. Exotic plants—some Russell recognized, others completely foreign to his experience—grew in planned arrangements that spoke to both wealth and sophisticated taste. A small fountain bubbled peacefully in the center of the garden, its water catching and reflecting the light from strategically placed magical illumination sources.
What a rich guy! Russell thought with a mixture of admiration and contempt. He's living so extravagantly even while supposedly taking refuge underground. The contrast between this private paradise and the rough conditions he'd observed elsewhere in the complex was jarring. Whoever owned this space clearly commanded significant resources and wasn't shy about displaying their wealth.
The pig demon showed no signs of stopping to admire the scenery, moving through the garden with the purposeful efficiency of someone making a routine visit. Russell hurried to keep pace, taking mental notes of the layout and security arrangements as they walked. Multiple exit routes, he observed, and at least two positions where guards could be concealed without being immediately obvious.
After navigating the garden's winding paths for several minutes, they arrived at what was clearly their destination: a substantial building that managed to combine underground practicality with surface-world luxury. The structure was built directly into the cavern wall, but its facade featured carved stone work and architectural details that spoke to considerable expense and effort.
They stopped outside what appeared to be a study, identifiable by the warm light seeping from beneath a heavy wooden door and the faint sounds of paper rustling within.
"Sir, we have returned," the pig demon announced, pitching his voice to carry clearly through the door without being so loud as to seem disrespectful.
"Come in," came the immediate response.
The pig demon pushed open the door, revealing a space that reinforced Russell's growing understanding of their host's resources and priorities. The study was a masterwork of comfortable luxury floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined three walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that looked both expensive and well-used. A massive desk dominated the center of the room, its surface covered with papers, maps, and writing implements that suggested active intellectual work rather than mere decoration.
But what caught Russell's attention most forcefully was the room's occupant. Instead of the elderly demon he'd expected, or perhaps a mature adult flanked by advisors, he found himself looking at a demon who had barely shed the soft features of adolescence. The creature behind the desk couldn't have been more than eighteen in human terms, with the kind of narrow, calculating eyes that suggested intelligence coupled with dangerous inexperience.
Russell frowned slightly, his instincts prickling with warning. Something about this situation felt fundamentally wrong, though he couldn't immediately identify the source of his unease.
The young demon carefully closed the book he'd been reading and placed it precisely on the desk before looking up at his visitors. When those narrow eyes focused on Russell and his companion, there was an indefinable light flickering in their depths something that might have been amusement, or anticipation, or something far less pleasant.
"How did the matter proceed?" the young demon asked, his voice carrying the kind of casual authority that suggested he was accustomed to receiving detailed reports on violent activities.
The pig demon immediately dropped to one knee in a display of formal deference that spoke to long-established protocol. "It was handled very cleanly, Young Master," he reported with obvious satisfaction. "No one can trace the deaths back to our Hogrin clan. The prisoners appeared to die from the poison, exactly as planned."
Russell, lacking specific knowledge of the expected reporting procedures, chose to remain standing with his head lowered in what he hoped was an appropriately respectful posture. He focused on listening to the conversation, gathering intelligence about the power structures and relationships within this underground society.
The Hogrin clan, he noted mentally. Another piece of the organizational puzzle. This wasn't just a random collection of refugees it was multiple clans with distinct identities, competing interests, and apparently secret agendas that involved assassination and political maneuvering.
The young demon nodded with evident satisfaction at the report, but then his expression shifted to something approaching concern. "I still have one remaining worry," he said with the kind of theatrical distress that suggested he'd already formulated a solution. "Hogrin Five and Hogrin Six, what do you think I should do about potential loose ends?"
Russell felt his danger senses sharpen to razor focus. The young demon's tone carried undertones that spoke to premeditated betrayal, and the way those calculating eyes fixed on him and his companion suggested they were about to become the solution to this "worry."
The pig demon apparently designated as Hogrin Five responded with immediate enthusiasm that was either genuine loyalty or carefully performed devotion. "As long as the master gives orders, Hogrin Five will not dare to disobey!"
Russell, recognizing his cue and the probable direction this conversation was heading, replied with equal fervor: "I'm willing to go through fire and water for you, sir!"
"Excellent!" The young demon's voice suddenly increased in volume, taking on a note of barely contained excitement.
The sound that followed was distinctive and ominous: "Ding-ling-dang." Two daggers, their blades flashing with cold steel light, were thrown with casual precision to land directly in front of Russell and Hogrin Five. The weapons struck the wooden floor with crisp, metallic notes that seemed to hang in the suddenly silent study.
"Then please die for me," the young demon said with the same casual tone someone might use to request a glass of water.
The study fell into absolute silence. Russell's mind immediately began calculating attack vectors and escape routes, his hand positioning to summon combat cards if necessary. The young demon's request was obviously intended to eliminate the only witnesses to the prison assassination, but Russell had no intention of accommodating such a request.
But before he could move, Hogrin Five beside him hesitated for only a moment before decisively picking up one of the daggers. Without ceremony, without protest, without any sign of self-preservation instinct, he drove the blade directly into his own heart.
"No, buddy, are you really going to commit suicide?!" Russell stared at the pig demon in absolute shock, his carefully maintained cover nearly cracking under the weight of his disbelief. He genuinely hadn't expected such fanatical loyalty or perhaps such complete indoctrination.
Hogrin Five coughed up a substantial quantity of blood, staining the front of his neat clothing as his life poured out of the self-inflicted wound. Despite his obvious agony, his final words carried nothing but devotion: "It is... my honor... to die for you, sir." Then his breathing ceased entirely, and he collapsed forward onto the expensive carpet.
The demonstration of absolute loyalty left Russell momentarily stunned, his worldview adjusting to accommodate the reality of such fanatical devotion. This wasn't just clan organization it was something approaching a cult of personality, with levels of control that bordered on the supernatural.
After processing this shocking display, Russell fell into rapid tactical thinking. His cover identity required him to demonstrate the same loyalty that Hogrin Five had just displayed. Refusing would immediately expose him as an infiltrator, likely leading to combat against an unknown number of opponents in an unfamiliar environment. But actually committing suicide would obviously end his mission permanently.
"What's wrong, Hogrin Six?" The young demon's voice carried a note of dangerous curiosity as he studied Russell's hesitation. "You don't want to die for your master?"
Looking up, Russell met the young demon's gaze and saw naked malice in those narrow features. The creature was clearly enjoying this exercise of absolute power, taking pleasure in commanding loyal subordinates to destroy themselves for his convenience.
After a moment of carefully calculated silence, Russell reached down and picked up the remaining dagger. The blade was well-balanced, sharp enough to penetrate flesh easily, and obviously intended to ensure quick death rather than prolonged suffering. With movements that appeared decisive but were actually carefully controlled, he drove the weapon into his chest.
But appearances, as Russell well knew, could be profoundly deceiving.
What the young demon observed was Hogrin Six dutifully following orders and dying for his master's convenience. What actually occurred was Arrogance immediately isolating the blade's impact, preventing it from reaching any vital organs while creating the visual appearance of a fatal wound. The symbiote's control over their shared physiology was precise enough to simulate death convincingly, including cessation of visible breathing and the slack posture of genuine unconsciousness.
Seeing that both Hogrin Five and Hogrin Six had apparently committed suicide on command, the young demon felt obvious relief wash over his features. The potential witnesses to his unauthorized assassination plot had been permanently silenced, and his secret activities could continue without fear of exposure.
"Someone!" he called toward the window, his voice carrying clearly through the glass. "Go and fetch Butler Borus immediately!"
The summoned butler arrived within minutes—a middle-aged demon whose bearing suggested both competence and long experience in handling his young master's various schemes. After taking a single, comprehensive look at the two bodies sprawled on the study floor, his expression remained completely neutral.
"Young Patriarch," he said with formal politeness, "you asked for me."
The young demon apparently the heir to significant clan authority gestured casually at the corpses as if they were misplaced furniture. "Butler, dispose of these two bodies. Be careful that no one notices their absence or asks inconvenient questions."
The middle-aged demon's eyebrows drew together in what might have been disapproval or simple professional concern. "I hope the young master can explain what circumstances led to this situation."
The response was immediate and hostile. The young demon fixed his butler with a cold stare that promised unpleasant consequences for continued questioning.
"Don't ask about matters that don't concern you," he said with the kind of casual authority that suggested he expected instant obedience to even unreasonable commands.
But Butler Borus possessed the kind of backbone that came from years of dealing with spoiled nobility. He straightened slightly and met his young master's gaze without flinching.
"I apologize, but I cannot comply with that request," he said with quiet firmness. "If you want my assistance with body disposal, I need to understand the circumstances that created these bodies."
Anger flashed across the young demon's features . His voice rose to something approaching a shout as he pointed accusingly at the uncooperative butler.
"Borus, you are nothing but a dog that my father keeps around for convenience! What gives you the right to interfere in my personal affairs?"
Despite being subjected to such verbal abuse, the middle-aged demon stood his ground without any visible change in expression. His composure in the face of aristocratic fury spoke to either exceptional self-control or complete confidence in his position within the household hierarchy.
Seeing that his intimidation tactics were proving ineffective, the young demon took several deep breaths to regain some measure of self-control. When he spoke again, his voice was stern but more controlled as he recounted the entire sequence of events: the barrier detection, the suspicious patrol, the decision to eliminate potential witnesses before they could reveal inconvenient information.
Butler Borus's expression underwent several subtle changes as he listened to this account. By the end of the explanation, he seemed to want to speak but kept stopping himself, clearly struggling with conflicting impulses. Finally, he released a heavy sigh that spoke to deep frustration with the situation and leaned down to personally verify the condition of both bodies.
His examination was brief but thorough—checking for breathing, pulse, and other vital signs to confirm that the two assassins were indeed deceased and beyond any possibility of testimony.
"Pig-slop! Pig-swill!" he called toward the door, summoning additional assistance with names that suggested the household's servants weren't particularly valued for their dignity. "Get in here immediately!"
As two obviously terrified servants entered the study and took in the scene of violence, Borus turned back to his young master with evident resignation.
"Don't worry, Young Master," he said with the tone of someone accepting an unpleasant but necessary task. "I will handle the disposal properly."
To the servants, who were clearly struggling not to panic at the sight of two corpses in their master's study, he issued brisk instructions: "You two, carry these bodies. Move carefully and quietly."
The servants, despite their obvious terror, managed to function under the combined pressure of their young master's presence and the butler's authority. Together, they lifted Russell's apparently lifeless form and that of the genuinely dead Hogrin Five, carrying them from the study with the kind of careful efficiency that suggested this wasn't their first experience with such tasks.
"I'll handle the rest of the arrangements, Young Master," Borus informed the young demon with formal politeness before leaving the study without looking back.
As the door closed behind the disposal party, the young demon stared after them with an expression of barely controlled hostility. His narrow eyes fixed on the space where Borus had been standing, and his voice carried murderous intent when he spoke to the empty room.
"That old pig," he muttered with vicious satisfaction. "One day, my father and I will find a reason to eliminate him permanently."
The forest location Borus had chosen for body disposal was several hundred meters from the main underground complex, accessible through a concealed exit that led to the surface world. Ancient trees created a natural canopy that would shield their activities from aerial observation, while the thick undergrowth provided concealment from ground-level surveillance.
"Thank you for your assistance," Borus said to the two servants as they completed the transport of both bodies to the selected site. His tone carried genuine appreciation for their help with such an unpleasant task.
"It's nothing, sir, really nothing at all," the servants replied with the kind of nervous energy that came from participating in activities they'd rather forget as quickly as possible.
But their relief at completing the assignment was short-lived. In one fluid motion that spoke to considerable physical capability, Borus reached out and snapped both their necks with quick, efficient twists. The servants dropped to the forest floor without even having time to register surprise.
"Unfortunately, no one can know about any of this," Borus said to the suddenly silent forest, his voice carrying genuine regret for the necessity. "So I have no choice but to ask you to die as well."
Alone now except for the four corpses, Borus allowed his carefully maintained composure to crack slightly. Frustration and anger leaked through as he continued speaking, apparently addressing his complaints to the uncaring trees.
"These idiotic father and son," he said with bitter resignation. "Will they only be satisfied when they've completely ruined the Hogrin family's reputation and power? If the old patriarch and his experienced advisors hadn't died in the recent battles, it never would have been the turn of these incompetent branch family members to take control."
As if to vent some of the depressed frustration weighing on his spirit, Borus lifted one foot and brought it down with tremendous force. The impact created a deep pit in the forest floor, demonstrating physical strength that suggested magical enhancement or natural demonic capabilities far above normal levels.
He turned toward the bodies, preparing to kick them into the improvised grave and complete the burial process. But just as he was positioning himself for the task, something extraordinary happened.
"Can you tell me more about it?" A hoarse voice that seemed to emerge from the depths of hell itself spoke directly behind him. "About the... management... of the family?"
"Who's there?!" Borus spun around instantly, his body moving with the reflexes of someone accustomed to danger and violence.
The sight that greeted him defied rational explanation. The body of Hogrin Six, which had been lying motionless on the ground just moments before, had completely disappeared. In its place stood a massive creature of black and red, its form suggesting something between demon and nightmare made manifest.
Before Borus could react further, the creature moved with inhuman speed. One moment it had been several meters away, the next it was directly in front of him with one enormous hand wrapped around his head in an inescapable grip.
Seeing the shock and dawning terror in Borus's eyes, Russell allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. His voice, filtered through Arrogance's altered vocal cords, carried both amusement and menace.
"Finally," he said with genuine pleasure, "I have an identity that can actually facilitate my activities in this place."
Understanding blazed in Borus's eyes as he remembered the young demon's account of the barrier detection and the suspicious circumstances surrounding the patrol. His expression shifted rapidly from shock to fear as he realized exactly what kind of creature he was facing.
"Arrogance, thank you for your excellent work," Russell said, speaking both to his symbiote partner and to the terrified butler. As he spoke, black and red liquid flowed from his transformed body like a living tide, completely submerging Borus before he could cry out or attempt escape.
The absorption process was thorough and efficient. Within moments, Russell had gained access to another genetic template and the knowledge that came with it.
Gene module extracted: [Sharp Fangs].
[Sharp Fangs]: Equipping this module allows the generation of indestructible large fangs capable of piercing virtually any material.
As Russell's muscles writhed and reconfigured under Arrogance's influence, his form gradually shifted to match that of the former Butler Borus. The transformation was complete in every detail not just physical appearance, but posture, mannerisms, and the subtle energy signature that identified him as a specific individual.
Standing in the forest clearing, surrounded by the evidence of multiple deaths, Russell—now wearing the face and identity of the most trusted servant in the Hogrin household—allowed himself a moment of cold satisfaction.
The infiltration was proceeding better than he'd dared to hope.
End of Chapter 125
Comments
Raphael Espinoza Angulo
Meh, they still haven't said anything valuable. In fact, they've now expanded the lore of a colony that's probably going to disappear. XDXDXD
