He paused, letting the words sink in, watching the reactions ripple through the crowd.
Some relief. Some uncertainty.
Some calculating as demons processed what this new order meant for their individual situations.
"Treatment will improve from this point forward," Jack declared, his voice carrying weight that went beyond mere volume. "Better food. Better quarters. Work schedules that don't kill you from exhaustion. You're my army now. And I don't weaken my own forces through negligence."
More reactions. Surprise this time, mixing with cautious hope. Decades under Pho's rule had taught them not to trust promises from demon lords, but the Soul Warden's flat delivery made them curious.
"But understand this," Jack's tone dropped lower, becoming something closer to threat than a promise.
"When I summon you, you answer. No questions asked. No excuses. I don't care if you're eating, sleeping, dying, or taking a shit. When I call, you come."
