Strolling casually down the street, Orsaga neither provoked anyone nor was provoked himself.
If one ignored the occasional vicious brawls erupting nearby, where beings fought to the death, this place was hardly different from any ordinary city.
With a single kick, he launched two unknown creatures locked in combat over a hundred meters away. Admiring the scenery around him, Orsaga remarked, "What harmony. Tens of thousands of lifeforms on this street, and only a few hundred are fighting. It's so peaceful, it barely feels like the Abyss."
"Sir, sir!"
Just as he was sighing with emotion, a greasy, sycophantic voice came from behind him.
Startled for a moment, Orsaga turned and looked down at the source of the voice.
It was a green-skinned creature, just over two meters tall, shaped like an egg, with a tuft of white hair on its head. It had four legs, two arms, and was covered in eyes of various shapes and colors.
Ugly.
That was Orsaga's first impression.
Distinctively ugly…
That was his second impression after a few more glances.
Seeing the other party fidget nervously, Orsaga stroked his chin and asked with some confusion, "You need something?"
The creature rubbed its hands together and pointed to the two unconscious beings lying hundreds of meters away, grinning like a shady street vendor. "Excuse me, do you still want those two?"
Orsaga glanced over and replied calmly, "No."
As soon as he spoke, he could clearly sense the creature's delight—even if its features were hard to describe.
"Then I won't disturb you further," it said joyfully.
In just a few quick steps, the creature ran to the two fallen beings, snapped their necks with two crisp crack sounds, and merrily dragged their corpses away.
It looked as gleeful as a human who had found money on the street.
Seeing this, Orsaga nodded approvingly. "Such simple folk. Even picking up trash, they still ask first."
He stopped in front of a storefront.
[Grigg Tavern]
The word "Grigg" had been added to the sign later in a crooked, messy script. Beneath it were layers of scratched-out names—likely those of the tavern's previous owners.
Looking at the building, Orsaga felt a strange sense of déjà vu. As if, in this moment, a tavern simply had to appear—it suited the fantasy background of a demon like himself.
Recalling memories of his past life, he remembered such places were often filled with both stories and accidents.
A flicker of interest passed through his eyes. "Trigger point for epic quests and legendary adventures! Gotta go check it out!"
And just like that, he pushed the door open and walked in right in front of the doorman.
The moment he stepped inside, Orsaga paused in mild surprise.
"…Why does this feel like sci-fi?"
Thousands of lights hung from the ceiling, casting a decadent glow, while several mechanical stages rotated at the center. Each stage hosted dozens of exotic, female performers dancing various routines.
Orsaga immediately stepped back a few paces—the dancers' appearances were simply too much. They didn't align with his aesthetics at all.
Still, not wanting to waste the trip, he made his way to the bar.
Ignoring the chaotic mix of beings around him, Orsaga dragged over a chair and sat down.
Casually, he tossed a soul crystal to the bartender. "Give me a drink. Keep the change."
The bartender, who had more than ten arms, pinched the crystal and offered a flawless smile. "One moment, sir!"
Soon, the bartender began mixing various unidentified liquids from an assortment of bottles and jars into a cup.
A vibrant drink, steaming with bubbles, was placed in front of Orsaga.
"Enjoy."
Sniffing the cocktail, he detected a metallic tang—it contained at least thirty different kinds of blood.
He took a small sip.
A strange but deeply comfortable sensation bloomed in his chest.
A flicker of joy flashed across Orsaga's eyes.
"Delicious," he praised.
The bartender smiled back. "As long as you're satisfied."
As he sipped his drink, Orsaga cast his gaze across the tavern. Only about a fifth of the patrons were demons; the rest were various other creatures. He crossed his legs and casually listened to their conversations.
Soon, he clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Nothing but pointless chatter and boastful nonsense—no useful intel at all.
Noticing his boredom, the bartender hesitated for a moment before asking curiously, "Sir, are you from another layer of the Abyss?"
Orsaga glanced at him. Though unsure why the question was asked, he answered, "Yes."
The Demonbone Forest should count as a different layer, so that answer was valid.
The bartender sighed with envy. "No wonder you don't carry the scent of the Lava Wasteland… I envy you. You can travel this vast world. I've never once left this tavern. It is my whole world."
Orsaga gave a casual smile. "Oh? Are you bound here by the tavern's owner?"
"No," the bartender replied, his expression dimming.
"My parents were outsiders, not native to the Abyss. I don't know how they ended up here, but while drinking at this tavern, they got into a conflict and were killed by other patrons. When the staff were collecting their bodies, they found me still alive in my mother's womb. So they raised me here and trained me to be a server."
"They've never restricted my freedom, but I know my own limits. Outside this tavern, I probably wouldn't survive. Even if I did, I'd be worse off than I am here. So I've always stayed put."
Orsaga cooperatively put on a look of regret. "That's a shame. Life out there is far more colorful than it is here."
The bartender's aura wasn't even at the level of a Lesser Demon. He probably would drop dead the moment he stepped outside the tavern.
While they were chatting, a sultry voice drifted in from beside him.
"Handsome, can you buy me a drink?"
Orsaga turned to see a curvaceous succubus gazing at him with seductive eyes.
She had small twin horns, wings on her back, humanoid thighs, goat-like lower legs, and a long, swaying tail behind her.
Her face was impossibly beautiful—even beyond that of human standards.
She wore an armor-like outfit that resembled lingerie, leaving almost everything exposed. One had to wonder if it offered any protection.
A succubus. Lesser demon rank, Orsaga noted, smiling nonchalantly. "Sure."
He pulled out another soul crystal and handed it to the bartender. "A drink for this lovely lady."
Seeing his straightforward gesture, the succubus beamed and strutted over. With a seductive sway, she sat on Orsaga's lap, her voice sweet as honey.
"You're so generous. Unlike some cheapskates who won't even buy me a drink."
She caressed the Deathblossom pattern on his breastplate, sighing in admiration. "Even though you were sitting in a dark corner, I saw you the moment I walked in. Such a beautiful design…"
Unbothered by her touch, Orsaga smiled calmly. "It's called the Deathblossom. I'm glad you like it."
Despite being over two meters tall, the succubus felt like a doll in his arms.
He gently sniffed the blood-tinged fragrance she exuded, then idly rubbed the horns on her head, as though toying with a trinket.
She proudly asked, "Smells good, right? I just finished a fresh blood bath."
Orsaga nodded in agreement. "Not bad at all."
The succubus took the drink from the bartender, leaned into Orsaga's chest, and giggled. "Unlike you flame demons, appearance is everything to us succubi—no matter the situation."
She glanced up at him with a hint of puzzlement. "By the way, I've never seen such a handsome flame demon. Most I've met were… not great looking. But you…"
Even by her high standards, Orsaga was nearly flawless. Even the notoriously picky elves would struggle to find fault in him.
He shrugged. "That's because I'm a mutated flame demon. Explains everything, doesn't it?"
The Abyss was vast and bizarre—what kind of freak hadn't it seen?
A handsome flame demon? No big deal.
The succubus simply gave him a cursory glance, not pressing the matter, and continued to flirt and chat with him, her laughter ringing through the tavern.
---
Much later…
Watching Orsaga leave, the succubus's flirtatious expression vanished.
She turned to the bartender respectfully and asked, "Lord Grigg, do you have any further instructions?"
Wiping glasses with more than ten arms, the bartender casually waved one and replied, "No. You may go."
As he gazed in the direction Orsaga had left, a flicker of intrigue passed through Grigg's eyes. "What an unusual flame demon. Seems like he's hiding quite a few secrets…"
Out on the street, Orsaga wore a relaxed smile, clearly in good spirits.
"The Abyss is truly full of talent. Everyone's got skills, and they spin the best stories. I love this place."
"Next step—find a place to stay. Guess it's time to randomly pick a lucky passerby…"
_____
T/N:
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