"I said… become my friend."

It takes a special kind of insanity or stupidity to say something like that to someone who could erase me with a thought.

But this isn't one of those easy-mode stories where the main character gets a protective bubble and strolls through life unscathed.

No.

I've been trying to survive for a month straight, crawling, bleeding, bargaining, and somewhere along the way, I think I stopped caring about sense.

Maybe I have just been alive long enough to realize… the only way to stay sane here is to embrace the madness and right now, I was doing exactly that.

If death wanted to play with me, then fine, I would play right back.

"And why would I do that?" The Demon King, Ashavar, raised a brow, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

I mean, yeah… fair question.

Why would he want to be friends with me?

I'm a transmigrator.

The so-called successor of some useless but maybe powerful god.

The friend of a guy who might be a key player in this world… or, worst case, the one who created it in the first place.

Oh, and let's not forget, I know the future.

So yeah, I have got plenty of reasons for him to take an interest in me.

Just… none that would make him want to be my friend because if I revealed any of that, he wouldn't be curious.

He would be entertained right before he started seeing how long I could scream before telling him all of that.

"Why not?" I replied with simple words.

I knew a lot more about the Demon King than most.

This bastard wasn't your typical villain, no tragic sob story, no misunderstood anti-hero nonsense.

He wasn't the one screwed over by life.

He was the one who did the screwing.

A chill guy, sure… just a little too chill.

The kind of chill that comes from being so bored,

you start playing god just to feel something.

Can't really blame him, though.

He's been alive for a few millennia at least?

Yeah.

This bastard's not just the oldest mortal still walking this land… he's older than some of the gods themselves.

Cursed with immortality.

This bastard, just like me, doesn't even belong to this world.

He's a reincarnator.

Someone who has lived, died and lived again, over and over, until all those lifetimes blurred together.

The power he has now?

It's not granted.

It's earned.

Stacked through countless rebirths, trial after trial.

And yet… even with all that, even after so many reincarnations, he's still mortal.

Proof enough, really, that for all his power and his centuries of existence… his talent's absolute garbage.

In the novel, the Demon King wanted only one thing.

True Death.

He was tired… tired of dying and being reborn again and again.

Hell, he didn't even remember who he had been at the beginning anymore.

Everything had blurred into one endless loop of existence and forgetting.

So he just kept playing his role in every new life, hoping, somehow, this would be the one where it finally ended.

Hoping he would find a way to die.

Just like Noah.

They say, like father, like son.

And in this case… both father and son were suicidal.

He had done a lot of shit in this world, made divine enemies, shattered laws, pissed off gods but he still didn't die.

This was his seventh reincarnation in this world alone and this time, he decided to stop waiting for death.

He wanted to create the one who would kill him.

A poetic sort of irony, really.

Building your own executioner because no one else could finish the job.

That was the whole reason he had spawned so many children in this life, hoping that one of them would finally be strong enough to kill him.

Oh, and fun fact, he was also the first Demon King of demons in his first reincarnation in this world.

Back then, he was the one who started the whole mess with the humans, the grand war that shaped the world.

Hell, they called him a tyrant in those days.

A monster.

Completely opposite to the image he has built for himself now, the calm, wise, "benevolent ruler" who ended generations of bloodshed and made peace with humans.

And it's because of all this shit that I was complaining about not having enough experience to fool this bastard. I mean, seriously, the guy could very well be older than Hel.

"You are an amusing boy," Ashavar said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "But don't you think you're getting a bit too comfortable?"

He smiled wider, probably trying to mimic my own handsome and glorious smile.

But alas, perfection like mine isn't imitation material.

"I can grant you the one thing you desire most, Demon King," I said, my voice sly and more confident than even I expected.

Probably because of my Myths or maybe because what I was saying was, inconveniently, true.

"Oh?" Ashavar tilted his head slightly, voice calm. "And what would that be?"

This.

This was why I even dared to talk to him in the first place because unlike most of those unreasonable bastards, he was calm.

He had seen weakness.

He had known frustration.

He understood how heavy life could get and how cruel it could be.

In a way… this bastard was similar to me.

We both wore countless masks, the only difference being, his were a lot more real than mine. Built over lifetimes, while mine were just… practiced lies.

"I can grant you a True Death," I said.

And for the first time since this whole conversation started, I didn't joke. Because this time, this moment, I was my most serious self.

I knew a way to give him death.

When I first read Noah's story, this bastard, this fucker of a Demon King, was the one I found the most relatable… and the most tragic.

I sympathized with him.

Hell, I wanted him to have a real ending.

A peaceful one.

But he never got it.

When Noah killed him midway through the novel, this bastard didn't find peace. He just woke up again somewhere new as someone else and the cycle went on.

I expected him to explode, to release a burst of aura or maybe shatter the ground a little.

That's how these powerful, villainous types usually react when someone casually mentions their deepest desire, right?

But this bastard… he stayed calm.

Hell, he started laughing.

"Ha… hahaha… hahahahahahahahaha!"

His laughter echoed through the air and then he spoke. "So you're the one the Trickster said would come."

Now, it was my turn to be surprised.

Trickster…?

That fucker…

How the hell did he interfere here as well?

Ever since I came to this world, every step I have been made aware of his presence and his influence in my life from long before I even came to this world…

And now this?

He had a hand in this too?

"What do you mean?" I asked, my mask cracking for just a moment as a foreboding chill spread through my chest.

Something was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

That fucker would never have involved himself if this were something simple.

"I met a very interesting god in my fourth life in this world,"

Ashavar said, his tone calm and almost nostalgic.

"He was a man with a never-ending smile and tricks far beyond his already overwhelming strength… he called himself the Trickster."

The Demon King spoke as if recalling a distant amusing memory.

"He spoke of a boy who would walk his path," he said. "A boy who would grant me my desire."

His voice softened slightly.

"And somehow… I wanted to trust his words. Maybe because they were the only hope I had left or maybe…" his gaze darkened slightly, "because of the power his words carried."

My mind went blank with every word he spoke.

That foreboding sensation, the one that always comes right before things go to hell, started to crawl up my spine.

My sense of danger was screaming.

The Demon King had just told me his most precious secret, that he had lived more than one life.

And if this happened during his fourth one… that meant it was over a thousand years ago.

Which meant… That bastard Tricskter… had known about my arrival since back then.

My arrival.

Before I even existed.

Long before the whole Ashborn Family even came to exist.

But how…

How the hell is that possible?

Still, I forced myself to stay calm because the Demon King wasn't done speaking.

"The Trickster asked me to do one thing," he said slowly, his tone steady. "One thing, in exchange for my wish to come true."

He paused as if reliving the moment.

"Back then, I didn't understand the reason behind it."

His serpentine crimson eyes met mine.

"But now that I see you here…"

A faint smile curved his lips.

"I don't doubt him anymore."

"So, I shall carry out what I promised him as well," he said. "I don't know if you can truly grant me death… but if there's even a single percent chance, then I will follow what he asked of me without hesitation."

The moment I heard his words, my first instinct was to run.

But I was too damn late.

My body lifted off the ground without a shred of resistance as if gravity had finally divorced me.

I was pulled forward without any resistance until his hand closed around my neck.

Fucker, I just resurrected… Am I gonna die again already!?

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