You'd think after being made a "Director Candidate" I'd finally get a break.
Wrong.
Because apparently, the Demon Realm has a tradition: whenever someone rises too fast in the Obsidian Fang, the Royal Family takes notice.
And what do Royals do when they're curious?They invite you to dinner.
Except in the Demon Realm, "dinner" means a seven-course banquet with political traps, murderous gazes, and enough etiquette to make even a fork look dangerous.
The invitation arrived the next morning. Delivered not by mail, but by a demon in gold-trimmed armor who knelt at my hotel suite door.
"By decree of His Highness, Prince Varaxis," he intoned, "you are invited to the Royal Banquet as honored guest."
I blinked at him. "Me?"
Ledger: [ Passive Confirmation: Name Registered. Attendance Locked. ]
I groaned. Of course.
That evening, I was escorted to the Royal Hall — a grand palace carved from obsidian and crystal, towering high enough to scrape the sky.
But instead of looking like some terrifying spiked fortress, it looked… disturbingly like a five-star luxury hotel. Red carpets, glittering chandeliers, staff in neat uniforms. The only giveaway were the demonic murals on the walls — battles, flames, crowned figures etched in gold.
The banquet hall itself was massive. A long table stretched across the room, covered in food that sparkled with faint magic — roast beasts, jeweled fruits, wine glowing like molten gems.
And seated at the head of the table, dressed in crimson robes with a faint crown hovering above his horns, was the Prince himself.
Prince Varaxis looked mostly human. Handsome, tall, refined. His eyes burned faintly red, like molten rubies. When he smiled, the room bent slightly, as though reality itself bowed.
"Ah… the famed Rayan Arvale," he said, voice smooth as silk. "Please, sit. Tonight, the Royal Family wishes to see what kind of man the Fang has elevated so quickly."
Everyone at the table turned to look at me. Nobles with faint horns, Ministers in gold-thread suits, Fang Directors with their cold stares.
It felt less like a banquet and more like walking into a job interview where failure meant execution.
I bowed awkwardly, then sat where attendants guided me. The chair felt too soft, like it was ready to swallow me whole.
Prince Varaxis raised his glass. "To new blood, and to fortune."
Everyone echoed the toast.I raised my glass too, trying not to spill it.
The meal began. Or rather, the interrogation disguised as a meal.
"So, Candidate Arvale," a noble with silver hair said smoothly, "is it true you subdued an entire debtor district… alone?"
I nearly choked on my soup. "I—"
Ledger: [ Passive Deception Aura: Activated. ]Crowd: gasps softly
"He admits nothing. Such secrecy…""As expected, the Fang's rising star."
Another noble leaned forward. "And rumors say you carry the power to erase existence into currency. Surely that is exaggerated?"
I waved my hands quickly. "No, no, it's not—"
Them (hearing): "He refuses to reveal his trump card. Brilliant."
Prince Varaxis chuckled, swirling his wine. "Fascinating. Humble, mysterious, and yet feared by all. Tell me, Arvale… do you serve the Fang, or do you serve yourself?"
I froze. This felt like a death sentence disguised as a question.
The room went silent, all eyes drilling into me.
I opened my mouth, praying the Ledger wouldn't twist it too badly.
Me: "I… serve survival."
Ledger: [ Passive Authority Aura: Activated. ]Crowd: stunned silence
Then—
A noble whispered, trembling:"He… he seeks dominion beyond both Fang and Royalty."
Another:"Such ambition…!"
Prince Varaxis's eyes gleamed dangerously. Then he laughed.
"Excellent. Refreshing honesty! You truly are unlike the rest."
The hall erupted in polite laughter and applause.
Meanwhile, I was just trying not to faint into my plate.
The longer the banquet went on, the more I wished I could crawl under the table and disappear.
The food looked divine—steaming platters of flame-roasted beasts, glasses of glittering soulwine—but the demons weren't here to eat. They were here to dissect me.
A portly minister, jeweled rings weighing down his fingers, leaned across the table. His eyes gleamed with oily amusement.
"Director Candidate Arvale," he said, voice smooth as syrup. "I hear you have… unusual talents in managing wealth. Suppose one were given a billion Soul Credits. How would you use them?"
A billion?! I barely understood how to handle ten.
I froze, fork clattering against porcelain. "Uh… I'd… save them."
The Ledger flared.
[ Passive Interpretation. ]Audience hears: "I would hoard power until the exact moment of decisive conquest."
The minister's eyes widened. Then he nodded slowly, as though I'd just whispered a forbidden truth."As expected… vision."
My stomach dropped. What vision? I just didn't want to embarrass myself!
No sooner had I caught my breath than a huge demon in armor slammed his goblet down. His scarred jaw worked as he glared across the table.
"Tell me, boy," he growled, "what's stronger? An army of ten thousand demons—or one man with absolute control?"
My brain screamed, Isn't this obvious?"One man. Obviously."
The Ledger hummed again.[ Authority Aura strengthened. ]
The general threw his head back and roared with laughter, the sound rattling the chandelier."Hah! Finally! Someone with teeth! The army bows to the hand that holds the chains!"
Demons around him nodded with grim respect, as if I'd uttered ancient doctrine.
I was sweating bullets. Did nobody hear my real words?
But the true danger came when the Princess spoke.
She had been quiet all evening, her violet silks flowing like moonlight, her gaze cool and sharp. Princess Selvaria tilted her head, eyes locking onto mine with unnerving precision.
"And you, human-looking Director," she murmured. "What do you think of demons?"
The hall fell silent. Even the clink of goblets stopped.
My mind blanked.This was a trap. Any answer could get me killed.
I swallowed hard. "…Demons are terrifying. But also… strangely human."
The Ledger twisted my words before they even left my mouth.[ Passive Translation Active. ]Audience hears: "Demons embody fear and power, yet their greatness mirrors divine sovereignty itself."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"He compares us to the divine…""No—he elevates us above them."
Selvaria's lips curved into the faintest smile. "…Interesting."
Interesting?! That was not what I said!
Prince Varaxis chose that moment to rise, his smile sharp enough to cut steel. He raised his goblet, and the room stilled once more.
"Rayan Arvale," he declared, voice carrying like a royal decree. "From tonight forward, you are no longer merely a Candidate. By the will of the Royal Family, you are recognized as a true Director of the Obsidian Fang."
The hall erupted. Applause thundered, goblets clashed, and nobles bowed their heads.
I sat frozen, staring at my half-eaten plate.
Wait. Did I just… get promoted? By accident?
The Ledger blinked in my vision.[ Achievement Unlocked: "Royal Recognition." ][ Title Acquired: Director of Obsidian Fang. ]
I wanted to laugh, cry, and faint all at once.
When the banquet finally ended and I staggered toward the doors, the Prince himself caught my shoulder. His grip was firm, his eyes burning like twin suns.
"Remember this, Director Arvale," he said softly. "Tonight you gained favor… but also enemies greater than you can imagine."
His smile deepened. "Do not disappoint me. Or them."
Then he let me go.
I walked back to my quarters in a daze, my head pounding.
The Ledger chimed one last time:[ Status Update: You have officially stepped onto the board of power. Survival odds: drastically reduced. Potential rewards: astronomical. ]
"…Fantastic," I muttered. "I've gone from broke nobody… to demon royalty's favorite target. Just perfect."