At Hagun Academy, Stella Vermillion had become overly cautious. After almost being caught by a peeping tom the last time she changed, she never left her dorm's door unlocked again. Though her previous dorm had been burned down—forcing her into a new room—the culprit had escaped punishment. It infuriated her, but since nothing had been seen thanks to Haruto's intervention, she reluctantly let it go.
Still, if she ever saw that man named Ikki Kurogane again, she vowed she would beat him to a pulp.
Now, whenever she changed clothes, she ensured the door was bolted tight and the windows sealed shut.
Knock knock.
Just as she had finished dressing, someone knocked.
"Who's there?" she asked sharply.
Her eyes narrowed. She didn't have friends outside of the group chat. Though she constantly scolded Haruto for his shameless behavior, she still considered him and the others her closest allies. The chat's chaos gave her a sense of freedom she never felt before.
Especially Haruto, that outrageous man. He even broadcast his private affairs without a second thought. "Ugh…" she muttered, embarrassed at her wandering thoughts, then forced herself to calm down and open the door.
A man stood outside. His face scrunched in awkwardness.
"I… uh…" he stammered, scratching the back of his head. "I was assigned to this dorm by the headmaster. My name's Ikki Kurogane."
"What?!" Stella's eyes shot wide open. "A guy… assigned to my room?!"
Her mind reeled. Could this be some prank?
Then the name hit her like lightning.
"Wait… Ikki Kurogane?!"
Her face flushed dark red with rage.
"You're the peeping tom!"
The thought that she had to share her room with the very man who once invaded her privacy filled her with fury. Flames practically danced along her skin.
"Move!" she barked, shoving past him. "I'm going straight to the headmaster!"
"If you dare step inside my room…" she growled, teeth clenched. "You're dead!"
Ikki froze, too frightened to move.
The next morning, Haruto felt unusually cheerful.
Mai hadn't prepared breakfast. He understood why—her arms were sore, her legs numb, and her feet ached from the night before.
The experience had been overwhelming—far more than she'd expected. "Helping out" had escalated into nearly everything except the final step. She'd endured things she never thought possible.
Haruto quietly entered the kitchen before anyone else stirred. The soft golden light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the counters.
He moved with practiced ease, selecting ingredients with precision—fresh eggs still warm from the coop, fragrant herbs gathered from the garden, thick slices of artisan bread, and ripe tomatoes with a deep crimson sheen.
Without rushing, he prepared something special—not extravagant, but heartfelt, a meal that spoke more than words.
First, he whisked the eggs with a touch of cream, sea salt, and cracked black pepper until they became a smooth, velvety custard.
He gently cooked them over low heat, folding them with a wooden spatula, ensuring each bite would melt on the tongue. Alongside the eggs, he pan-seared slices of smoky bacon until they curled at the edges, glistening with fat.
Next, he toasted the bread to a perfect golden brown, brushing the edges with melted butter and a hint of garlic to infuse warmth into every crumb.
He layered it with soft avocado, a few leaves of peppery arugula, and thin slivers of cured ham, balancing richness and freshness with care.
For color and tang, he sliced heirloom tomatoes and sprinkled them with sea salt and a drizzle of olive oil, letting their juices bloom like a painting.
Finally, he placed a small dish of homemade melon jam beside the plate—an unexpected sweetness that brightened the morning without overwhelming it.
The final touch was a steaming cup of fragrant black tea, brewed from leaves he handpicked himself, releasing a floral aroma that danced through the kitchen.
When he carried the tray to Mai, the steam rising from the dishes mingled with the soft morning light.
The aroma of butter, eggs, and herbs enveloped the room, a comforting invitation that stirred appetite and curiosity alike.
It wasn't a grand feast, but it was enough—thoughtful, nourishing, and perfectly crafted to soothe a body that had given everything the night before.
Mai, still dazed from exhaustion, could only stare at the tray as Haruto gently placed it in front of her.
"Eat," he said softly. "It's not much… but it's made just for you."
The warmth of the food mirrored the quiet care behind the gesture, and for a moment, all her doubts and discomfort seemed to dissolve.
On his way to school, Haruto passed through a narrow alley when something caught his attention.
"Waaah! My melon bread, give it back!" a shrill voice cried.
A petite red-haired girl, wearing a tiny demon-bat headband, sat wailing on the ground. Her eyes glistened with tears as she reached toward a white dog gripping a bag of melon bread between its teeth.
"My melon bread…" she sobbed, trembling.
The dog, standing proudly, wagged its tail as if daring anyone to take it.
The girl's body shook with humiliation. As a future great demon lord, to have her prized snack stolen by a stray animal—it was unbearable. The human world was far too cruel!
A quick scan revealed more.
[Demon]: Satanichia Kurumizawa McDowell
[Level]: 28
[Abilities]: "Demonic Magic"
Haruto smirked. How coincidental—this must be the demon Gabriel had mentioned. And judging by her school uniform, she was likely another transfer student.
"Woof?"
The little dog, noticing Haruto approach, darted away with the bread clamped between its teeth.
"My melon bread!" Satanichia wailed in despair.
Her world collapsed.
Suddenly, another melon bread appeared in front of her.
"Melon bread? It came back?"
Her eyes sparkled.
"Haha! As expected of Satanichia Kurumizawa McDowell, the future S-rank demon lord! My bread always finds its way back!"
Haruto chuckled quietly.
"I hate to burst your bubble, but I'm giving this to you."
She blinked in surprise. "Huh?!"
Haruto smiled at her. "I'm Haruto Amakawa. Judging by your uniform, we're in the same school."
With a sly glance, he added, "You'd better hurry, or you'll be late."
But instead of panicking, her eyes gleamed brighter.
"Being late is an A-rank demon's behavior!" she declared with pride. "If I'm late, wouldn't that make me even stronger?!"
Haruto froze, speechless.
Her arrogance was absurd, yet endearing.
She rattled on about demon ranks, but her clumsiness made her seem like a girl lost in a fantasy.
He knew better. With just a few sweet words, he could deceive her into anything if he wished.
Smiling, he tossed the bread toward her.
"Here. Take it. Just don't let it get stolen again."
Without waiting for her reaction, he waved once and turned away.
"!!!"
Satanichia's eyes sparkled with delight as she clutched the bread tightly.
A bold thought flared in her mind.
"If only I could make him my servant!"