“A large-scale civil war among heroes? I didn’t think Lumineal would ever allow such a thing.”
When Irene turned around, Lumineal, who had peeked her head out, was also staring at the terminal.
Well, both Irene and Lumineal belonged to the Demon Realm.
Since they didn’t have a terminal of their own, this was always how they watched broadcasts.
Lumineal seemed uncomfortable about it for some reason.
But Irene didn’t mind—in fact, she liked it.
How often did she get to stay so close to her favorite character naturally like this?
She no longer even considered buying a terminal.
No, if someone were to bring one, she’d likely smash it to pieces.
This was precious time spent with Lumineal.
She had to enjoy it while it lasted.
“I would never forbid something you want to do, Irene.”
“That’s kind of touching. Then, should I head to the Hero’s Guild?”
“N-no, you can’t do that!”
Lumineal’s flustered expression was priceless, and Irene couldn’t help but chuckle.
This world’s Lumineal was just too fun to tease.
It was a hundred times more satisfying than selecting preset choices just to see her reactions.
And since there weren’t any new choices being added, Irene had long since memorized all of Lumineal’s dialogue options.
To Irene, every conversation with Lumineal was like brand-new content.
Sure, most other characters were the same, but…
The difference between interacting with her favorite character and just another character was significant.
“Honestly, I want you to explore a bigger world, Irene. I’ve said it many times—you’re too talented to stay here.”
“What do you mean? This is the place where I fit best in the whole world.”
“I’m talking about your abilities! And besides, unlike me, you’re human. There’s no issue with you going to the Hero’s Guild or the Middle Realm.”
Lumineal’s hair fell in front of Irene’s eyes as she lowered her head, looking dejected.
It was true.
The differences between Lumineal and Irene were starker than one might think.
On the surface, they seemed similar—they both looked human.
But when you dug deeper, the differences were significant.
Starting from their species to how humans treated them, even their eating habits were different.
Not to mention the “handles”—no, horns—on Lumineal’s head.
The more Irene thought about it, the more obvious it became.
That’s why they always seemed to clash.
‘I hope my plan works out.’
That was the reason Irene decided to start broadcasting.
While they might seem like an unlikely pair at first glance, that wasn’t the case at all.
After consuming eight enhancement stones, Lumineal had grown surprisingly powerful.
She could now defeat most low-level heroes without much effort.
But even so, Irene couldn’t leave her side.
There was always a lingering sense of unease.
Sure, Lumineal had gotten stronger, but not as strong as Irene.
It was always possible that a stronger hero would appear and defeat her.
On top of that, demons’ souls were converted into soul stones upon death.
Unless someone used another body, resurrection was impossible.
To Irene, Lumineal was like a candle in the wind, constantly at risk of going out.
What if an eighth-ranked assassin came while Irene was away?
Using Irene’s reputation to protect Lumineal was also tricky.
She had never introduced Lumineal to the public, treating her like a precious diamond hidden away.
Because of that, no one knew about Lumineal.
In a world where even goodwill towards Irene could be fake, it was clear how people might react to Lumineal.
At best, they wouldn’t attack her on sight. At worst, they’d throw fireballs at her horns.
Even her beauty wouldn’t help here.
In a world where even incredibly beautiful succubi and the legendary Mirror Demon King were infamous, looks weren’t enough.
So Irene scrapped her old ideas and came up with a new plan.
If Lumineal couldn’t defend herself forever, why not make her someone people wouldn’t want to attack?
“Lumineal, do you remember what I said last time when I gave you the enhancement stone?”
“…That holding back isn’t good for you?”
“Not that.”
“That this place is nice?”
“…No, I said I’d debut you on a broadcast.”
Hearing this, Lumineal tilted her head, clearly confused.
She genuinely didn’t seem to remember.
Either way, Irene had made up her mind.
She and Lumineal would start broadcasting.
This was part of the larger plan she had in mind.
People hated demon kings, and for good reason.
If you asked them why, they’d respond with reasons like:
“Demon kings mock humans, unleash monsters, and pose a constant threat to humanity.”
But upon careful consideration, Lumineal didn’t fit any of those criteria.
…In other words, she was the epitome of an incompetent demon king.
Still, she had done enough to recover Irene’s mental health, so Irene let it slide.
Lumineal truly didn’t act like a demon king.
The monsters she summoned?
They were weak enough to be defeated by farmers with rakes.
And any stronger monsters that appeared after her enhancements?
Irene handled them in real-time.
To Irene, Lumineal wasn’t a demon king—just someone pretending to be one.
And Irene planned to amplify that impression.
If everyone saw Lumineal as harmless, she might even be removed from the list of targets for subjugation.
With that ambitious dream in mind, Irene sent a message:
[Irene: Hey, are you alive?]
[Luna: Who is this?]
[Irene: It’s Irene.]
Luna didn’t reply for a while, and when she finally did, Irene couldn’t help but laugh.
[Luna: Don’t lie. Irene uses a different account.]
Unfortunately, Irene had no way to prove herself.
She didn’t even have a device to send pictures.
After some thought, a mischievous idea came to mind.
[Irene: You’ve caught me…]
[Luna: ?]
[Irene: I’ve kidnapped Irene. If you want her back, come to this location!]
[Luna: ??????]
Despite her disbelief, Luna rushed to the given location—a desolate, abandoned house.
When she arrived, she found Irene waiting inside, perfectly fine and waving at her.
“Luna! You’re here!”
Luna froze for a moment before muttering,
“…What… the…?”