Chapter 112: The Demon
"Both the king and queen are down; you've lost," Henry declared, checkmating Frank.
"I guess I'm just not good at chess," Frank admitted, scratching his head.
"How about a shave? I'm quite skilled," Henry offered, pleased to have had such a long conversation, his mood lifted.
"With a straight razor? I haven't tried that before," Frank said, reclining in the chair, a towel on his shoulder, his chin covered in white foam as Henry brought out a razor.
"Nowadays, everyone uses electric shavers; even an idiot can use those," Henry said, skillfully shaving a patch of foam from Frank's face.
"This is my first time with a straight razor, and it's quite an experience," Frank remarked, closing his eyes.
"Indeed, everything today is about speed and convenience. Taking things slow is the true way to enjoy life, though time is a luxury the working class can't afford," Henry said, wiping the razor clean on a towel, leaving it gleaming.
"You're right; time is precious. Using a razor is a disappearing art," Frank mused, realizing for the first time how enjoyable a proper shave could be.
"In the past, using a razor was a fine art, and many noblemen would keep a barber on staff just for shaves," Henry chuckled.
"By the way, during our game, you mentioned your kids. It sounds like there's a misunderstanding between you," Henry noted.
During their chat, Frank shared some of his family troubles, still bothered by the events of that night, a part of him urging to abandon the ungrateful lot and live carefree—a subconscious influence from the old "Frank."
"Kids grow up and make their own choices. Parents shouldn't interfere too much."
"I spent ten years in prison. When I went in, my wife was pregnant. When I got out, my child didn't even recognize me. I haven't seen my kid or ex-wife since he turned thirteen. But your kids are still with you," Henry shared his own experience.
They talked about many things. Since his rebirth in this world, Frank hadn't had such a deep conversation.
Despite being new acquaintances, it felt like they were old friends.
"You got robbed of everything, right? I have a spare room; you can stay here. We can chat whenever you want, and when you're ready, call your kids to pick you up," Henry offered.
"I'll deal with the kids later. Could I borrow your phone?" Frank asked.
While Henry tended to a customer, Frank took the phone to make a call, dialing from memory—not to Kevin or Fiona, but someone else.
"Hello, who is this?" a tired voice answered on the other end.
"John, it's Frank," Frank said.
He was contacting John. The events of the previous night haunted him, and he needed answers about the creature.
He knew a specialist in the supernatural, and for expert matters, you seek expert advice.
"Frank, what's going on?" John sounded surprised.
Since the shapeshifter incident, they hadn't been in touch.
"I recently encountered a monster," Frank explained, detailing the events of the night.
"Ritual, horns, inverted cross," John repeated.
"Oh, and there was a pungent smell. I touched some yellow powder on the basement door, and the smell came from that," Frank added.
"The yellow powder is likely sulfur," John explained.
"Sulfur?" Frank was puzzled.
"If what you described is accurate, you encountered a demon," John said gravely.
"A demon!?" Frank exclaimed.
"Yes, among supernatural creatures, only demons match those characteristics. The sulfur trace confirms it," John explained.
"However, the demon you encountered isn't ordinary," John continued.
"What do you mean?" Frank inquired.
"In global cultures and religions—Christianity, Native American beliefs, Hinduism, Taoism—demons are depicted as orchestrating disasters, both natural and man-made, and as manifestations of inner turmoil."
"Typically, a demon's aim is widespread slaughter and destruction. Normally, everyone in that manor should've been killed by the demon. You should have been killed as soon as you entered."
"But the demon you described killed selectively, taking sacrifices," John said.
"So what's the implication?" Frank pressed.
"The demon you encountered isn't ordinary. It's likely a deal-making demon, a crossroads demon, or known as a hell trader or soul harvester," John explained.
"A deal-making demon?" Frank was confused.
"Haven't you heard? Besides wreaking havoc, demons are famed for making deals—trading a soul for any wish."
"Isn't that just a ghost story?" Frank started to say but stopped, having witnessed firsthand what shouldn't exist.
"Demonic deals are real. Summon a hell trader at a crossroads, and you can trade your soul."
"Based on your account, that man Joseph likely made a deal, trading his soul for immense wealth," John surmised.
"That makes sense," Frank said, enlightened.
This explained how Joseph transformed from a slum dweller to a celebrated billionaire in a few short years.