The palace, with all its towering spires and labyrinthine corridors, usually hummed with an undercurrent of power and tension. But that morning, something far more mundane threatened to unravel the carefully woven threads of order—its ancient coffee machine broke down.
Yes, a coffee machine. The lifeblood of demon nobility and ambitious students alike.
I stood in the kitchen, surrounded by a cluster of frantic maids and demon servants, their faces pale as if facing a siege rather than a simple appliance failure. Lira, usually the picture of calm, was frantically waving her hands in delicate sigil patterns, her brows furrowed in concentration.
"I followed the incantations exactly. The manual was clear," she muttered, voice edged with panic. "How can this be happening?"
The machine hissed and coughed, then gave a pathetic gurgle before falling silent. An ominous puff of smoke curled up, smelling vaguely of burnt metal and despair.
Gorgala pushed through the crowd, chewing on a bagel and grinning like she was about to unleash some battle cry. "Seriously? We're wasting time on a broken coffee machine? While the Council's probably plotting to stab us all in the back?"
"I'm telling you," I said, rubbing my temples, "if this doesn't get fixed soon, there's going to be a full-scale rebellion fueled by caffeine withdrawal."
The maids gasped. Lira shot me a worried glance. "Rebellion? Over coffee?"
Before I could respond, Malvaria glided into the room, her violet eyes scanning the disaster zone. Her usual poised elegance was offset by a rare look of exasperation.
"This is the chaos I am expected to tolerate?" she said, voice sharp. "The mighty Lord Ren reduced to begging a machine for his morning ritual?"
Carmilla arrived next, her crimson gown sweeping the floor. Her eyes were cold fire, and the disdain was thick in the air.
"If this is the future ruler of the realms, we are indeed doomed," she sneered.
I sighed, realizing diplomacy was impossible at this point. Instead, I attempted to fix the machine myself. Maybe it was a wiring problem? A broken fuse? Whatever it was, I didn't expect the system to suddenly glitch mid-fix.
System Notice: Maintenance Required. Estimated Repair Time: 12 hours.
Great. Of course, the system was chiming in right then.
I frowned. Was the system mocking me? Or was it legitimately aware of this coffee catastrophe?
Before I could dwell further, a buzzing notification popped up in my vision:
"Critical system interference detected: Appliance malfunction. Suggested action: Initiate Demon-Tech Calibration Protocol."
I blinked. Demon-Tech Calibration Protocol? Was that even a real thing? The system's voice sounded unusually… sarcastic.
"Um, system, maybe now's not the time," I said aloud, half-expecting no response.
"Time is a human construct. Efficiency is not. Proceeding."
With a sigh, I activated the protocol. Blue energy swirled around the coffee machine as a faint humming filled the room. Sparks flew, and the smell of ozone mixed with burnt coffee grounds. The machine groaned, rattled, and then—miraculously—started to brew.
A cheer erupted. Gorgala high-fived a passing demon maid. Malvaria rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a small smirk.
Carmilla, however, narrowed her eyes further. "You're relying on… system magic to fix your coffee machine?"
"Better than a demon barista on strike," I replied.
But the system wasn't done. Suddenly, the screen on the wall flickered and flashed a new notification:
"Warning: Multiple system queries detected — High probability of social chaos. Suggested intervention: Deploy Charm Enhancement Subroutine."
I groaned inwardly. Great, the system wanted to meddle socially now. I barely had time to think when I felt a strange warmth surge through me. My usual confidence surged up a notch. A glance around showed Malvaria suddenly leaning in closer, her eyes sparkling with renewed interest. Even Carmilla's expression softened, if only slightly.
Lira gave me a sideways look. "System interference again, huh?"
"Yeah, it's like having an overzealous wingman who doesn't know when to stop."
As if on cue, Gorgala burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "You? Needing a system charm boost? I always thought your charm was lethal enough."
The absurdity broke the tension, and the entire room filled with reluctant laughter.
Later, as the sun dipped behind the jagged mountains, the council meeting resumed. Despite the earlier chaos, I found myself sharper, more persuasive, even as subtle system nudges guided my words and tone.
Carmilla eyed me with suspicion but admitted defeat. Malvaria, always more difficult, gave a small nod of approval.
The day closed with whispered jokes among my harem—Lira teasing me about my "tech-enhanced charisma," Gorgala planning a sparring match to "reset the system manually," and Malvaria promising to keep an eye on both the system and me.
I leaned back, realizing that between demon politics, harem dramas, and unpredictable system glitches, life was anything but boring.
And somehow, that chaotic blend was exactly what I needed to survive.