"Everyone really did leave in a rush, didn't they?" Sirus muttered, more to himself than anyone else, as he walked between two rows of tense guards escorting him to the Mayor's manor. His wrists were bound—ten handcuffs in total, each glowing faintly with the power to suppress monstrous strength.
Ahead, the head guard was already dispatching scouts toward the evacuation point. Their orders: observe, report, and reassure. If all went well, the citizens would return… even with an S-Class monster inside the town's walls.
"What do you mean you just let an S-Class monster through the gates?! Have you all gone mad?!" An elderly man in a formal suit roared at the scouts. His voice cracked with fury. "This is outrageous! And you dare come to me after what happened and ask me to negotiate with a monster?!"
"S-Sir, please calm down. This isn't good for your health," one of the scouts said gently, keeping his tone respectful.
"Damn my health! I'm the Mayor—I hold responsibility for every soul in this town!" he barked, breaking into a coughing fit as he loosened his tie. His face turned as red as a ripe fruit while the scouts moved to steady him.
"With all due respect, sir, the head guard requests your presence. We've secured the creature using our strongest restraints."
The mayor froze mid-movement. "You restrained it?"
"Yes, sir. We're using specialized handcuffs that reduce a monster's strength by ninety percent."
"And it allowed this?"
The scout took a steadying breath. "He requested it. Said it would help the townsfolk feel more at ease. Told the head guard to cuff him himself."
The mayor blinked. His rage cracked. "He asked to be restrained?"
"Yes, sir."
He sank into silence, then let out a long sigh—like the weight of the town had just shifted off his back. "Very well. I'll meet this… creature."
He turned toward the bulkhead doors, which began to rumble open.
"My citizens," he added with a smile, "there is no longer any cause for alarm. You may return to your homes."
…
Inside the grand hall of the manor, tension curled in the air like a blade.
Guards surrounded Sirus, their spears all aimed at him, sweat glistening on their brows. Yet the "monster" himself stood at ease, calmly admiring the lavish interior like a guest at a palace.
"Ahem," the head guard finally asked, "Sirus… why are you so calm? Spears at your throat, ten handcuffs designed to cripple monsters—yet you act as if you're on a morning stroll."
Sirus slowly turned his head, his red eyes gleaming, lips curled in a serene smile. The chains clinked faintly with his movement, fragile things compared to the confidence in his voice.
"You speak of these handcuffs as if they matter," he said. "But tell me, what makes you so certain I am a monster? I may not be human, but I am no monster either."
For a moment, silence. Then laughter burst from the guards.
"You think you're not a monster? What nonsense!" one sneered.
Sirus tilted his head. "And your name?"
The head guard straightened. "James Luwent."
Sirus blinked… then erupted into howling laughter. "PAH! James Luwent?! What a pitifully dull name! That's what they call you? Hah—how am I supposed to keep a straight face around that?"
His laughter echoed so loud the manor's rafters trembled, dust drifting down from the ceiling.
The guards exchanged bewildered glances. Was it really that funny?
James, flustered, clenched his jaw. 'Is my name that strange?'
Sirus wiped pitch-black tears from his cheek with a shoulder. "Don't mind the color. My blood and tears turned black after an accident. But anyway…"
He tilted his head, fangs glinting.
"What defines a monster?"
The room fell into a hush as he asked the question—his voice low, probing, ancient.
Before James could respond, the great white-and-gold doors of the manor opened with a groan, revealing the mayor at last.
A short, stocky man dressed immaculately in formal wear. Bald on top, with a fringe of black hair on the sides and a long white mustache to match his white tie. His brown eyes locked onto the being before him.
The guards stiffened to attention. "At ease," the mayor ordered.
His gaze lingered on Sirus. Snow-white hair. Crimson eyes. Skin pale as moonlight. Ears sharp as elven blades. Unfamiliar hind legs. A blink that moved sideways. Small horns nearly hidden in his hair.
"...What are you?" the mayor asked, utterly at a loss. "What kind of monster are you?"
Sirus met his gaze without flinching. "Must I be called that? Is appearance all it takes to be condemned?"
The mayor frowned, unsettled by how precise and fluent the creature's speech was. "If you claim not to be a monster, then what in heaven's name are you? You look monstrous enough to fool any man."
Sirus grinned. "Allow me to show you."
Gasps followed his words. The guards shouted, spears pressing tighter.
Sirus ignored them. His grin widened.
And then—with a faint crack—he pulled.
The sound of shattering metal filled the hall. Chains broke like twigs in a storm. One by one, each supposedly unbreakable cuff snapped, clattering to the floor.
The monster had freed himself.
The room erupted into chaos—screams, gasps, weapons raised.
But Sirus simply stretched, brushing black flakes from his shoulders.
"I'm a demon," he said, bowing ever so slightly, "Pleasure to meet you, Mayor."