"Your Highness, why did you agree to his terms? Babel Tower cannot withstand further upheaval."
"Kal'tsit, I believe Satan may yet be a figure we can unite with… You are familiar with the Satan Foundation, are you not?"
"…I am. Regardless of the rumors, the Foundation has indeed taken in countless war orphans who had nowhere else to turn. But, Your Highness, why does Theresis never interfere with him?"
"..."
"Your Highness, this merchant is far too suspicious."
"I know, Kal'tsit. But isn't that what I am doing now—learning more about him? If we let mere suspicion decide everything, we may drive away someone who could have been an ally… and in the process, turn them into a true enemy."
"…As long as Your Highness is certain."
As the two debated, the Doctor sat quietly at the side, eyes lowered to the intelligence dossier on Satan—reading, but offering no words.
---
"Sir, may I trouble you for a moment? I'd like to speak with you about the savior of the Sarkaz—Mister Satan."
"Where the hell did this lunatic crawl out from? Get lost, don't bother me!"
"…Apologies for disturbing you. I'll take my leave."
The red-robed man bowed politely, as though tipping a hat—despite not wearing one.
He then returned to where his companions waited. They too were Sarkaz, all clad in red robes. Some were men, some women, some old, some young. But all wore the same expression: a look of contentment, almost blissful.
"You have successfully quelled your anger, restrained your desires, and completed the final trial. At last, you have grasped the true essence of our cult of Satan—self-restraint!"
His companions congratulated him warmly.
Their leader, an older figure in a tattered hat, stepped forward. His body reeked of blood, yet the aura he gave was calm—eerily sacred, like a grotesque parody of holiness.
From his bag, the leader produced an equally tattered hat.
"From this moment forth, you are a bishop among us. You may now spread the gospel of Mister Satan to your fellow Sarkaz."
"But remember—our doctrine values fate, not force. We never compel others."
He offered the hat-bearing man a ceremonial bow. The man donned the hat, returning the gesture.
Together, all of them murmured in silent unison:
"Restrain desire. Find joy in sufficiency."
"Praise be to you, Mister Satan."
---
"Brother, want to join our treasure-hunting band?"
"Treasure-hunting? In this forsaken Kazdel wasteland, what treasure could there possibly be?"
"Have you been living under a rock? The so-called Devil of Kazdel—isn't he the greatest treasure of all?"
"…But I heard everyone who strikes a deal with him ends up cursed with misfortune."
"Your vision is too narrow! Satan only punishes those who grow too greedy—well, that, or those who lack the strength to bear the price. According to the professional research and years of tracking conducted by our 'Seekers of Satan,' we've charted out the optimal profit-to-price ratio of his contracts. As long as your wish falls within this range, there's a high chance you'll pay very little yet reap immense reward!"
"…Then why invite me? I don't see what use my joining would be to you."
"We Seekers of Satan are a loose association. After all, Satan himself is elusive, with no fixed place of business. The more members we have, the higher our chance of encountering him. You'll only need to tithe five percent of the wealth you gain from your wish."
"But… what if my wish isn't something that can be shared? Say, I wish for a confession of love to succeed. I can't exactly hand over five percent of that."
"Didn't expect that from you, with those thick brows and upright looks—you already have someone in your heart, eh? Don't worry. In cases like that, all you need to do is tell us the details of your contract and how the wish was fulfilled. In fact, we'd even pay you a handsome sum in return."
"…I can't think of a reason to refuse."
"Then welcome to the Seekers of Satan!"
"Our motto is simple: Satan is opportunity!"
"And only through careful preparation can we seize it firmly in our grasp."
---
Satan wandered leisurely through Rhodes Island, following W as she led him about.
This ancient landship is surprisingly advanced, he mused.
Of course, he had no intention of heading toward obvious places like the command center or operations room. That would have been the same as painting the word suspicious on his forehead.
The "Sarkaz King's" hold over Babel Tower is stronger than I expected.
All around, people recognized him. Desire flickered in their eyes, threatening to overflow. Yet no one stepped forward to strike a bargain.
Satan hardly minded.
Not everyone was willing to plunge into a dream too sweet to wake from. Even if they had lost much, at least they still held something.
But for those who had lost everything in reality… illusion was the only paradise left to them.
---
"…Why is there a Cautus child here in Babel Tower?"
Satan tilted his head, eyeing the little girl before him—brown-haired, long-eared, clearly not Sarkaz.
If it had been a Sarkaz child, that he could understand. Theresa was Kazdel's ruler; it made sense she would rescue Sarkaz orphans whenever possible.
But a Cautus?
No… something was off.
The Black Snake within him stirred, sensing a hidden peculiarity.
…Interesting.
With a snap of his right fingers, a finely wrapped bag of candy appeared in his left hand. The packaging glittered with an elegance that spoke of expense.
"Little bunny, would you like some sweets~?"
Amiya shrank back, uncertain and wary. She didn't know this man.
"Stay away from him, Satan."
The warning came from the shadows—the same presence that had been trailing him all along.
From what Satan could sense, the figure's strength was indeterminate, the aura faint and hard to read. A professional assassin, no doubt.
"Ascalon, what are you doing here?" W frowned.
"Watching him, of course," came the calm reply from the hidden woman.
"Satan's behavior just now crossed the line. And you stood there, letting it pass. Perhaps you think it's nothing, but what if he had acted suddenly—or laced the candy with some trick? Could you really bear the responsibility, W?"
"My duty is to ensure the safety of Babel Tower's members."
"Tch…"
W scowled, unwilling to admit it—but the woman was right. If Satan truly acted, she wouldn't be able to stop him.
"Do you really think it wise to speak like that in front of me?"
Satan's smile faded as he tucked away the candy.
"I'm merely making Babel Tower's stance clear. We will not hesitate to eliminate anyone harboring ill intent."
Ascalon emerged silently from behind him. Still, Satan did not so much as flinch, standing calmly in place.
"…Exactly how confident are you in your own strength?" she asked.
"Who's to say?" Satan replied smoothly.
The air thickened, tension coiling like a drawn bowstring.
Then, suddenly, a staff member hurried over, breaking the standoff.
"Mr. Satan, the Doctor wishes to see you."