Chapter 8: Saxon.

Bulldog grunted coldly, the sight of Aza'zel devouring loaf like a crazed animal had momentarily blindsided the man from how notorious of a character Saxon was.

Saxon didn't even bother with making excuses anymore as he slowly circled past Bulldog, crouched by Aza'zel's aide, and wrapped an arm around the latter's shoulder.

Saxon laughed while shaking his head. "Only my people call me Sax, big guy! Sigh, and here I wanted to act benevolent and kind, lest my new little brother here gets the wrong idea and all… I mean, who wants their little brother to think they're some kind of a twisted monstrosity, right? Pal?"

Bulldog felt like something was off about the atmosphere, and suddenly, he seemed to recall what sort of a person he was dealing with.

Aza'zel slowly lifted his head as crude crumbs of bread stained with a bit of blood toppled off from his mouth.

Until now, his entire focus was on eating as the pain induced by hunger almost crippled his faculties.

Now, with some brain cells to spare the situation at hand, he quickly realized that some things had escalated beyond his control.

"You again?" Aza'zel reached out to feel the hand resting on his shoulders, and proceeded to grasp the familiar voice from a few days ago close to his ears.

Saxon laughed louder. "See? We do know each other! I told you, didn't I? You really, really, really fucked up this time, Bulldog! Off with his tongue and fingers!"

Bulldog didn't even wait for Saxon to finish his sentence. The moment the latter went on laughing, Bulldog immediately turned his back with the intent to flee. However, the moment he turned around, a surprisingly silent figure, half Bulldog's build and stature, slammed into the man.

Bulldog, knocked off his large feet, had only the dusky sky in his eyes for a moment before an impactful jolt rocked his lungs and spinal column, followed by an irregular weight pressing down his torso.

It was the same person who knocked him over, now saddling his waist, quite impressively to add.

Infuriated, face bunching up with spots of red and dancing veins, Bulldog waved his barrel-like hands to catch this oversized child, but two shadows quickly descended to tackle both arms to the ground.

Turning his head, Bulldog saw two girls, scantily dressed in skirts and quite the mismatching shirts, yet this amount of clothing could be considered decent compared to a few women by the side, walking around with their groceries on full display; melons, cherries, and all.

Bulldog didn't have the mind to enjoy the soft sensations of flesh and other, distinctive feminine features smothering his trembling arms as the two hunkered down on his hands, as his survival instincts and mind, now overwhelmed by dread, could only focus on a short knife in the hands of the main assailant.

"Bloody fucking hell! Sax! No, Saxon! I said you can fucking have the goods! You can fucking have it, ARGH!"

Such was the overture of the defeated, a tone of despair, introducing the wicked reality of this world.

Aza'zel was confused as to what happened, as in his world of echoes, he perceived the group of four and isolated them from the crowd of silhouettes shuffling about. He didn't see the jagged knife sail past Bulldog's lips, rip off his tongue, and send it flying to the rodents scurrying about.

Hot blood twinkled crimson in the light of the low moon, dripping beautifully on Azazel's face, much like Saxon who sat to the side.

Laughing, the latter wiped his face with two fingers and rested them on Azazel's thin lips. "Here you go, kid! Don't be shy, we all got one or two demons locked inside, just let loose!"

"Huh?" Aza'zel reacted, lips parting in a daze, and the sweet yet metallic texture graced his tongue once more. Not knowing why, he took the blood-coated finger in his mouth.

Saxon's facials flinched, but he forced a smile before breaking the entanglement a moment later. He stared at his mangled flesh in awe, fresh blood running down his skin. He clenched his fist, and proceeded to pocket his injured hand away.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Aza…"

"Ah, easy to remember! I'm Saxon, though you can call me Sax from now on! Say, you're not really blind, huh?"

Aza'zel hesitated for a moment and said, "I can see… just a little."

Saxon laughed, ignoring the muffled cries of Bulldog as one finger fell after the next.

Saxon was delighted. "A little is good enough! Haha, you freaky little monster, let's go get you something decent to eat, can't live on a bloody diet your whole fucking life!"

Aza'zel quickly focused, as he wanted to ask something for a while now. Since Saxon stopped talking, Aza'zel grasped the opportunity to ask, "Say… Do you have these voices in your head, too? The demons, I mean…"

Saxon blinked, quickly remembering what he just said about a demon or two. Smiling, he said, "Of course I do, everyone has them!"

Aza'zel felt delighted, urgently inquiring, "Then… How can I make them shut up? I don't like it when they start talking, but they won't listen to me…"

Saxon choked, and at the same time, a silver chuckle echoed to the side. Saxon glared at the girl who had invested her entire bodily mass on Bulldog's arm while hacking down his digits one at a time.

The arm trembled, causing her petite body to bounce and sway, promoting the beauty of her curves and the crimson paint that splashed her abdomen and chest.

It seemed like she had the spare mind to listen in on the conversation despite the difficult task at hand, hence her sudden laughter. As though noticing Saxon's glare, she stuck out a cute pink tongue.

"We really crossed the line this time, Sax! Bulldog has one of the twelve Rakshas behind him… Well, his brother-in-law is a subordinate to Ribbon Raksha, won't this prove troublesome?"

Saxon rolled his eyes, making it a point to respond to Aza'zel's earlier inquiry by saying, "Between your demons and yourself, it's just a question of who can get crazier! Teach these demons a bit of fear, teach them to be humble!"

Even Saxon himself had no idea what nonsense advice this was, but seeing as Aza'zel nodded his head imperceptibly, the former immediately switched topics.

"Ribbon Raksha?" Saxon scoffed in disdain, his lips displaying quite a dangerous curve. "That bitch had such a comfortable life for so long, it won't be far before I press her beneath my crotch and replace her as one of the twelve Rakshas."

Saxon suddenly slapped his forehead. "Ugh! Old pal Bulldog, now you heard something you shouldn't have!"

Bulldog's huge frame, while pinned down by the three youngsters, began to tremble uncontrollably while incomprehensible syllables doused in blood frothed from his mouth.

Saxon then glared at the girl, his glance accusatory as he exclaimed, "You cheap slut! You did it on purpose, didn't you?!"

The girl laughed. "Well, this fucker touched somewhere he shouldn't have… Well, it did feel good to be fair, but it felt just as disgusting!"

The moment her sentence ended, the knife in her hand danced along Bulldog's wrist arteries and followed a beautiful, crimson arc to slash open his neck.

Saxon cursed, exasperated as he said to Aza'zel in a weak voice, "See? Demons? We all have them! Fucking hell…"