It's official.
This ruthless system is trying to get rid of me.
[Urgent Quest: Defeat The Enemies!]
Defeat the enemies? Are you serious? Those "enemies" aren't goblins or skeleton mobs—they're a half-mad Minotaur juiced up on conspiracy steroids and a goddess with a personal vendetta against anything with a Y chromosome. And somehow I, a very mortal, very breakable demon prince with exactly zero interest in suicide, am supposed to defeat them both.
Hold up a minute.
First, I can work with the goddess to rid us of the Minotaur.
That was the thought, anyway—the hopeful, survival-driven thought. Except there was one tiny, inconvenient, galaxy-sized problem: Artemis would sooner strangle me with my own intestines than accept me as an "ally." I was a man, breathing the same air she despised. If she had a choice between teaming up with me or drinking Minotaur piss, she'd pick the piss.
