THIS IS BAD

"Resolution 2025: Keep Portland Weird."

Malron scratched his nose when he saw the slogan on a building in the metro area. Several times, Malron saw those words on bumper stickers of passing cars. The demon glanced at Kieran, who walked beside him with a downcast face.

"So people in Portland think of themselves as weird?" Malron broke the silence.

Kieran looked up. "What?"

Malron pointed to the slogan of the building they had just passed. "I mean... Weird."

Kieran blinked and tilted his head. "That looks strange."

"That's my point. Do you think humans pride themselves on feeling peculiar?"

"Maybe," Kieran replied, scratching his head reflexively.

Malron looked again at Kieran, who was more representative of a weird human: an innocent, sweet-looking face bordering on beauty. Not to mention that the young man was slim, with pale white skin and silver blond hair. Kieran was a little short, just five and a half feet.

Short, according to Malron, who was six feet tall. Unlike the humans, Malron had met before.

They passed a small, deserted diner with a neon sign that read 'Open 24 Hours'. Malron stopped, watched the window for a moment, then entered. Kieran quickly followed the demon inside.

A woman stood behind the counter, staring lazily at approaching customers. The diner was nearly empty, except for an older man sitting in the corner sipping black coffee from a paper cup.

"Welcome," the woman said flatly.

Malron approached the cashier and was surprised to see that the woman's eyes were purple. Perhaps human genetics had evolved to make eyes that were ordinarily blue, green, brown, or black more colorful.

Unintentionally, Malron caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror behind the woman. His appearance was very handsome, giving off a 'bad boy' vibe, and Malron was sure that his looks would infatuate any woman to the point of nosebleeds.

"Well, I never understood... that Portland has to stay weird. But it's a good weird. Especially when I see your beautiful eyes," Malron opened the conversation with a light flirt.

The woman blinked at Malron. "Huh?"

"Your eyes," Malron whispered, emphasizing, "beautiful."

Demons had a natural talent for seduction; it was their duty also. Malron's ability to hypnotize and mesmerize anyone was an easy task. Unbeknownst to the woman, Malron launched a subtle attack from his gaze as their eyes locked.

"What would you like to order?" the woman asked, looking irritated.

Malron blinked. Had he lost his ability?

"We don't offer beautiful eyes here, and we only accept payment in dollars," the woman sneered, "Freak."

Of course, the refusal shocked Malron beyond measure. The demon immediately pulled Kieran's arm to leave the diner, and Malron walked faster to get away.

"What's going on?" Kieran asked, confused. "Aren't we going to eat?"

"I don't have any dollars," Malron replied.

"Oh..."

"Do you think I look like a 'freak'?" Malron let go of Kieran's hand. "Look at me, am I not handsome?"

Kieran nodded. "Yes, you're handsome."

"Then why did the purple-eyed woman reject me?"

"She doesn't have purple eyes. She wears contact lenses."

"What are contact lenses?"

"They are like glasses that make your vision clearer. Nowadays, they come in different colors."

Malron muttered. Could the contact lens object reflect the influence of Malron's power, leaving the waitress unaffected? He began to guess.

Malron's footsteps turned into a small street of vending machines, which was tranquil there. In frustration, Malron slammed his fist into the glass of a vending machine, shattering it.

Kieran jumped in surprise. "Why did you do that?"

"Are you thirsty? Get yourself a drink."

"Wow! Thank you, sir."

Kieran happily grabbed several cans of soda, then sat down at the end of the row of vending machines. His slight frame seemed hidden by the dark shadows of the vending machines. Malron followed and sat down next to Kieran. 

Looking tired, Kieran drank three cans of soda in a short time.

Unbeknownst to Kieran, Malron was trying to read his mind. But Malron couldn't penetrate what was in Kieran's mind. 

It was as if a thick wall surrounded the young man. Even when Malron tried to sift through Kieran, his gaze became blurred.

The demon even wondered if he needed contact lenses to improve his vision.

"I know what the 'Keep Portland Weird' slogan means," Kieran said suddenly.

"So what is it?"

"It's an informal slogan for promoting local businesses, originating from the phrase 'Keep Austin Weird.' And it eventually evolved, not just in the business sector, but in other areas. It tends to focus on uniqueness and eccentricity."

"Where did you see that?"

"On the figurative writing at the diner, we went to."

"Oh..."

Kieran was about to take his fourth can of soda when Malron grabbed the young man's arm.

"Enough! You'll get a stomachache, and a few hours later, some very smelly gas will come out of your butt," the demon warned.

Finally, Kieran abandoned his intention to drink the fourth can. He just hugged his knees and stared at the wall of a building across the street.

"Anyway, thanks for saving me, sir," Kieran said.

"Why did you fall off the roof?" Malron asked.

The demon added his complaints inwardly, And ruined the ritual agreement that should have gone smoothly. Where I would have gained another slave. Now I'm cursed and don't know how to break it.

The boy seemed uncomfortable answering. Kieran looked down, then lined up the empty cans beside his worn-out shoes. "I wanted to escape," Kieran revealed.

"Why?"

"Well, I had to get out of there."

"That's not a reason, Kieran."

Kieran sighed deeply. "Something was bothering me. Do you know what I mean, sir? Like a whisper, like someone was telling me to leave that place as soon as possible."

Malron blinked. "Are you an addict?"

"No!" Kieran turned to Malron and immediately pouted.

"I thought it was a place of ritual. Apparently, a place for delusional people."

Now, Kieran corrected Malron's assumption. "It's not a rehab center. I told you, I don't fantasize or use illegal drugs."

Malron glared at Kieran. "Yes, maybe you're right. Maybe you are being sacrificed because the people who died were performing a demon-summoning ritual."

This time, Kieran blinked, confused.

"No, sir. That was the residence of one of the High Priests. They can't perform dark rituals; you're mistaken," Kieran sighed quietly. "That is why I feel afraid and guilty now. People were killed because of my selfishness to escape."

Suddenly, Malron stood up and put his hands on his hips. His eyes remained on Kieran, looking straight and cruel.

"They performed a summoning ritual! To summon me!" Malron declared loudly.

Kieran replied with an innocent look. "And... who are you?"

"I am..." Malron stopped and took a deep breath. "O dioikitís ton déka chiliádon stratón tou kósmou ton daimoníon."

(the commander of the ten thousand army of the demon world)

"Huh?"

Malron got annoyed. "I already told you, didn't I?"

"Oh... then what is your name?"

"Márlon, gios tou Chenoúk, gios tou Álmpe, gios tou Gioúko, gios tou Nkavasé."

(Malron, son of Hesnuk, son of Albé, son of Yūko, son of Gavasé)

Kieran did not answer immediately; the young man seemed unsure what to say.

"That's an interesting name," Kieran commented carefully.

Of course, Malron was surprised.

Kieran did not seem to know who Malron really was! 

The demon thought quickly; perhaps revealing his true identity was not a good idea. It would be better to let Kieran feel about Malron as his savior.

Then, after Kieran was safe from being sacrificed, Malron and the unfortunate boy would part ways. Kieran would have to swear an oath, releasing Malron from various obligations. And Malron was free to return to his world.

"You may call me Malron," the demon said.

Kieran held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Malron blinked. Should I shake this boy's hand? He thought.

Reluctantly, Malron shook Kieran's hand.

"So, Sir Malron, where are we going after this?"

"Of course, to get you back home. So show me the way, idiot."

Kieran looked at Malron in confusion. "I don't live in Portland, sir. I've only been staying at the High Priest's residence for two nights."

"What?"

"My home is far from here."

Malron rubbed his face irritably. "Oh, this is bad!"