Please, go beat the boss CHAPTER 41.2

Part 2

The previously empty lot was suddenly crowded with people. Lance’s efficiency was terrifyingly high. One carrier couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Who are all these people?”

Lance answered flatly, “Just some ordinary people in need of work.”

The carrier turned his head to look closely at their faces.

No, no matter how you look at them, these people aren’t “ordinary,” are they?

Lance pointed to the large chest they had brought over. “What is this?”

“I’m sorry, the remaining uniforms were too tattered, so we could only find these to use as substitutes.” The carriers opened the chest together and pulled out a deep blue scarf. “This is our symbol.”

Lance looked down and examined the contents.

The chest was filled with deep blue silk scarves and hats printed with white doves, along with a few sets of worn-out uniforms.

“I believe in you all,” the carrier said with emotion. ” The Pigeon King will surely be born from among you.”

Lance: “…”

Misha: “…”

Please stop mentioning that weird nickname!

Lance sent the three weary carriers away once more.

Only after confirming they were gone did he turn around and ask Misha and Ashby to help distribute the scarves—the symbol of the letter carrier—to the waiting succubi.

“If you want to coexist with humans, this is actually a decent job,” Lance said. “I’ve already spoken to the Lord. By next month at the latest, he will have suitable uniforms custom-made for you.”

It was the succubi’s first time participating in the workforce, and they felt an indescribable novelty. But before anything started, Lance needed to lay down three ground rules to prevent any strange accidents during their delivery rounds.

“You need to conceal your identities,” Lance said. “So I expect you to follow these rules.”

The succubi looked up at Lance curiously.

“First, no feeding without permission.” Lance tapped the table lightly. “You may only further intimate relationships with humans if you have their consent.”

Misha felt this was the ultimate test for the succubi.

For them, coming to the human world meant being surrounded by humans brimming with vitality—walking, talking, delicious meals. Resisting that would be incredibly difficult.

“Second, keep your clothes on, and hide your wings and tails.” Lance sighed. “If even one of you exposes your identity, everyone else will lose this job.”

The succubi nodded vigorously.

This rule was easy enough to follow. Even when they used to sneak into human cities, they would hide their tails and wings. This was at least easier than the first rule.

“Work hard when you’re on the clock,” Lance thought for a moment and added, “When you’re off the clock, you’re unrestricted. As long as you don’t violate the requirements above, you can do whatever you want.”

The succubi nodded even more vigorously.

Although they didn’t know what work tasted like, they felt that succubi were naturally capable of enduring hardship. Pain didn’t matter, and their stamina was far superior to that of average humans. Moreover, the concept of exchanging labor for payment was something they had never heard of; naturally, they were full of curiosity and itching to grab some letters and try it out immediately.

Lance gave a few more instructions regarding the delivery work. He looked visibly worried, while the succubi were brimming with enthusiasm, proactively putting on their scarves and hats, shouldering satchels full of mail, ready to set off.

Lance also took some letters and stood at the front of the group.

“I hope you will follow the rules properly,” Lance gave his final warning. “Unless you want to experience the human ‘Mantra of Pure Heart and Few Desires’.”

Ashby shuddered violently.

The succubi didn’t know what the human ‘Mantra of Pure Heart and Few Desires’ was.

But seeing Ashby’s reaction, they knew it couldn’t be anything good.

After all, “pure heart and few desires” implied losing interest even in feeding. That kind of terrible demon life… was something the succubi absolutely did not want to experience.

They left the warehouse one by one. Lance took Misha to the outskirts of Sky City, which they had selected as their first stop. Neither of them was particularly familiar with Sky City, so Misha had to look at the address on the envelope and then strain to identify the nearby houses, trying to find the correct delivery location.

Lance followed behind Misha, seemingly absent-minded or perhaps hesitant. Eventually, he spoke up, sounding uncertain. “That letter…”

Misha: “Eh? What letter?”

Lance: “Since I already wrote it… I might as well give it to you.”

Misha: “…”

Oh, he means that letter.

Back then, Misha had written to Lance trying to persuade him to go to the Divine Tower and accept the Goddess’s call. Because he was so worried about the Hero not making a move for three years, he had rushed from the Demon King’s City to the Lands of Bliss, and naturally, he had forgotten about the letter.

He hadn’t expected the reply to be stuck in the Sky City post station. To be honest, he was very curious about it. After all, the Hero often said shocking things, and Misha couldn’t help but want to know the contents of that letter.

Misha cleared his throat and asked, “Lord Lance, what did you write?”

Lance: “…I don’t think I remember.”

Misha: “Eh? You don’t remember?”

Lance nodded solemnly.

At that time, he didn’t know Misha was his divine messenger. He had just casually replied to a letter from a stranger. Given how much time had passed, it was impossible for him to remember every reply he had sent.

Lance thought about it and repeated seriously, “If it were a letter written now, I would definitely remember it.”

Misha: “…”

Misha sighed and reached out his hand toward Lance, asking for the letter.

“Well, the letter is right here,” Misha said. “We’ll know once we look at it.”

But Lance took a silent step back and shook his head vigorously.

“No,” Lance said. “I absolutely refuse to recall things I wrote in the past.”

Misha: “…”

Misha didn’t quite understand this feeling.

But he remembered the Hero saying he rarely had regrets. If so, why was he unwilling to look at a letter he had written before?

Misha cleared his throat and asked, “You really won’t look?”

Lance shook his head.

Misha: “But…”

“Looking at things I wrote in the past, recalling words I said before… it keeps me awake at night.” Lance solemnly placed the letter into Misha’s hand. “You read it yourself. Don’t tell me what it says.”

Misha: “…”

Even the shameless Lance feels this way?

Misha had no choice but to take the letter.

He walked a short distance away, putting some space between him and the Hero, before tearing it open.

The letter featured the Hero’s familiar handwriting—a bit scrawled, with a few short sentences filling almost the entire page.

「Hello, Misha.

Perhaps you really have the wrong person. I am not a savior, and there should be no saviors in this world.

I will not go to the Divine Tower. There are more important things I need to do right now.

This village is too destitute; the people can barely feed or clothe themselves. I believe that compared to the ethereal myths of religion, the reality before our eyes is what matters most.」

Misha: “…”

Misha was reminded of everything Lance had done.

He used to think Lance loved money and only wanted to make a profit. But thinking back carefully, starting from the Lands of Bliss, the Hero didn’t seem to have gained much benefit for himself.

He helped rebuild the entire village in the Lands of Bliss and received only a basket of clothes and bread from the village chief and residents. He helped the Dwarves and Sky City reach an incredible trade deal, yet only took a cheap set of armor from the Dwarven armory.

As for the succubi… although the Hero forced Ashby to sign a contract, he never forced Ashby to give him a single gold coin for his own personal gain.

These weren’t rewards at all. Misha felt that the Hero’s actions were more like… a form of commemoration.

He seemed to truly hope that humans and monsters could coexist harmoniously, and everything he did was an effort to practice his dream.

As the Demon King, Misha shouldn’t have such thoughts. A Hero like this was absolutely neglecting his proper duties, and Misha should be whipping this slacker into shape, forcing him to head to the Demon King’s City sooner.

But Misha, failing terribly in his duty, felt a little moved.

He thought that if not for this Demon King System from the Divine Realm, and if the evil of monsters wasn’t just a setup by the Gods, he might… actually become a supporter of the Hero.

But he couldn’t.

Misha still felt that everything the Hero longed for was just an illusion.

He sighed deeply and flipped the letter to the back.

There was only a single line on the back. He frowned as he read it.

The letter said—

「I really don’t have any money. Please stop writing to me.」

Misha: “…”

What do you mean, no money?

What do you mean, stop writing?

Eh???

Did he think I was a scammer?!

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