"How did I become so small! What did you do to me!"
At the center of the summoning circle, a fifty-centimeter-tall, three-headed, small demon cried out in collapse.
His face was like a Chow Chow, and his lower body consisted of goat legs.
His orange hair was styled into a trendy middle part, similar to a certain idol's.
He had a pair of small horns on his head.
Behind him, a pair of bat wings, proportionate to his size, drooped, and the tip of his pink tail had a heart shape.
He pointed at his short limbs, making a desperate accusation.
"Yay! It worked!"
The Ghost completely ignored his roar.
Immersed in the joy of his success, he spun wildly in the cramped basement.
"Answer me!!!"
The small demon roared in anger.
"I'm so awesome!"
The Ghost stopped, gave him a perfunctory glance, and then began a new round of happy drifting.
"Don't ignore me!"
The small demon was furious at the Ghost's disregard.
Was this mischievous fellow truly his creator?
"Can't you see for yourself? My perfect summoning circle."
The Ghost mercifully prompted, his tone filled with infinite admiration for his own work.
Guided, the small demon silently lowered his head, looking at the intricate summoning circle at his feet.
The sacred aura, so dense it could blind him, assailed him, and he barely made out the materials that formed the summoning circle, as well as the powerful runes.
The small demon's face involuntarily turned pale.
"You...how much did you steal?!"
"Any one of these items, taken out, could turn a small rural church into a holy site! I don't remember teaching you to be like this..."
The small demon's voice suddenly changed, like a heartbroken mother seeing her child go astray.
"Oh, what should I do! If the cops come, you must not resist! Otherwise, with your skin color...no, with your form, they will definitely serve you purple eggs! Wuwuwu..."
After speaking, he conjured a small handkerchief from somewhere, covered his mouth and nose, and began to sob.
"How could I be like this!"
The small demon completely broke down, throwing the handkerchief hard onto the ground with a soft 'thud'.
"First."
The Ghost floated in front of him, raising a finger.
"This isn't stealing; this is 'transferring,' an elegant, unowned, temporary act of safekeeping, do you understand?"
"Secondly."
A second finger went up.
"We only met today, and strictly speaking, I am your creator and legal guardian."
"And."
A third finger.
"This is Britain, not America. The kind of 'human-touch' law enforcement scenario you're talking about has a less than 30% chance of happening here."
"Finally."
The Ghost withdrew his fingers and gave the small demon a brilliant thumbs-up.
His tone carried a hint of pride.
"Of course, it's because I put some good stuff into your factory settings during your creation."
"Where do I even begin to complain..."
Looking at the Ghost, who was lying sideways in the air, as leisurely as if on vacation.
The small demon felt a deep sense of powerlessness, his stomach full of complaints that were hard to express.
"Alright, that's enough playing. Let's get down to business."
The Ghost's voice instantly changed. One moment he was giving a thumbs-up, the next he had landed steadily back on the ground, his tone as serious as if he were a different person.
"Your mood changes too fast!"
The small demon was so startled by this lightning-fast change of expression that he almost jumped, unable to resist complaining again.
"How do you feel now?"
The Ghost ignored the complaint and asked directly.
"If you suddenly ask me...I don't know what to say!"
The small demon scratched his head, looking bewildered.
The Ghost's orb-like head turned towards him and said,
"You are a fusion of countless mythological concepts representing lust and chastity that I have collected."
"You should be able to clearly feel it, right, those two mutually restraining forces within your body?"
The small demon felt the strange tug-of-war in his body, a desire to indulge in wild revelry yet also to remain pure and detached.
"That's truly perverse!"
The small demon complained with a constipated expression.
"Forcibly cramming lust and chastity together, are you not afraid I'll explode right here in front of you?"
"It's fine."
The Ghost's tone was as flat as if discussing the weather.
"I am a Ghost; physical explosions can't harm me, and..."
He paused, then added.
"It has already exploded three times."
"Ah?!"
The small demon's jaw almost dropped to the floor.
"The first three times."
The Ghost said calmly.
"I tried to create Wrath, Greed, and Pride."
"Unfortunately, every time at the last step, it would go, Bong! And turn to dust."
He made an explosion gesture.
"Until I realized,"
The Ghost's orb seemed to brighten for a moment.
"Reproduction is the most primitive, most fundamental, and most powerful desire of all life."
"Without reproduction, all other desires are rootless duckweed. Therefore, I created you, my masterpiece!"
The Ghost spoke with an almost fanatical tone.
"Azazel!"
"This is the name I give you."
"Uh...thank you..."
Although the other party had no facial features, Azazel inexplicably felt that two fervent gazes were projected from the Ghost's eye area, which made him feel uncomfortable all over.
"Then what about my body? Why did it become like this?"
Azazel asked weakly.
"Hmph! That's just personal preference, of course! What else could it be?"
Seeing the Ghost's righteous demeanor, Azazel couldn't help but feel a surge of anger.
"Then why did you add this damned authority of 'Chastity' to me?!"
Azazel exploded; he wouldn't even mention the body issue.
He truly couldn't understand why someone would forcibly combine two completely opposing authorities.
Only someone with a severely damaged brain would do such a thing.
Now, whenever he used his power, whether it was lust or chastity, the other ability would inevitably interfere with him.
"Because..."
The Ghost's orb seemed to flicker, and his tone, for once, showed a hint of...guilt?
"I was afraid I'd accidentally create Slaanesh..."
"But it's not a big problem!"
He instantly returned to his carefree self, waving his hand vigorously.
"You can slowly adapt! Anyway, you can't die! One day you'll be able to control your power like an extension of your arm. Then you can be lustful when you want, chaste when you want, with complete freedom!"
After speaking, he suspiciously turned his head to the side.
"Sigh...alright..."
Azazel sighed.
Looking at the unreliable Ghost in front of him, he quietly took a step back.
He absolutely could not fall into his hands!!!
Azazel roared in his heart!
In the outside world, freedom and beautiful older sisters were waiting for him!
Whether he succeeded or not, Azazel intended to try.
"Then...that...I have something to do...I need to leave first. If anything comes up, call me..."
After speaking, he tentatively turned around and began to move his short legs towards the basement door.
The Ghost also said nothing.
Watching Azazel walk towards the door.
Only then did he slowly open Azazel's demon book.
The pages, which had seemed welded shut, were now incredibly compliant, easily flipping open.
The Ghost casually scanned the contents of the book, picked a random spell, and a string of inhuman syllables emanated from the Ghost's mouth.
Azazel, who was happily stepping towards freedom, suddenly felt as if he had been struck in the crotch by an invisible giant hammer!
He let out a heart-wrenching scream.
He fell to the ground with a 'thud,' rolling and twitching frantically, his piercing screams echoing through the stone walls of the basement.
Only when the spell's effect dissipated did the pain slowly recede.
Azazel lay sprawled on the ground, clutching the heavily injured area, gasping for breath.
Cold sweat soaked the floor beneath him.
"You forgot something."
The Ghost's voice was calm and unperturbed, as he shook the demon book in his hand towards Azazel.
Azazel struggled to lift his head, looking at the book that exuded an ominous aura.