Chapter 112: First Class Ticket to hell

"Running away, trash devil? Not that I mind. It'll be more fun with just you and me," Freed cackled, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. He brandished his sword, the holy energy crackling along its blade.

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Wow, you really are a piece of work, aren't you, Freed? Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Freed's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with madness. "My mother? Hell, if she was alive, I'd probably have killed her for fun! Just like I'll kill you."

"Charming," I replied dryly. "But let's be honest here, Freed. You're not exactly the poster child for sanity. You remind me of a rabid dog—foaming at the mouth, biting anything that moves, and ultimately just a pathetic creature that needs to be put down."

"I mean, come on. 'Trash devils'? Really? I've heard better insults from five-year-olds."

Freed's eyes flashed with anger, but I could see the confusion there too. He hadn't expected me to be so nonchalant. Perfect.

"You think you're funny, huh?" he snarled, tightening his grip on his sword. "We'll see how funny you are when I cut you to pieces."

"Promises, promises," I said, rolling my eyes. "Why don't you stop yapping and actually do something? Or are you just all talk?"

Freed let out a roar of rage and charged at us, his sword slicing through the air. His movements were wild, driven by fury rather than skill.

As Freed swung his sword at me, I sidestepped easily, my own movements fluid and precise. "You know, for a psychopath, you're really predictable," I taunted, landing a swift kick to his side.

Freed staggered but quickly regained his footing, his eyes burning with fury. "You are courting Death!" he screamed, lunging at me again.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, dodging his attack and countering with a punch that sent him sprawling. "Heard that one before too. But sorry to disappoint you, I courted death long before."

Freed struggled to his feet, a crazed look in his eyes. "You're dead meat!" he shouted, rushing at me again.

This time, I let him come closer before sidestepping and tripping him, sending him crashing to the ground. "Seriously, Freed, you need some new material. This whole 'angry psycho' act is getting old."

Freed groaned, trying to push himself up. "I'll... I'll make you pay for that," he growled.

"Sure, sure," I said, my tone bored. "But first, why don't you try actually landing a hit?"

Freed's face twisted in rage, and he lunged at me once more, his attacks growing more desperate and sloppy. I easily parried his blows, my movements almost effortless in comparison to his frenzied strikes.

"You know, this is almost sad," I commented, dodging another wild swing. "I mean, I get that you're supposed to be the big bad, but come on. You're making this way too easy."

Freed screamed in frustration, his eyes blazing with hatred. "Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!"

With a swift movement, I just cut his both arms, sending his sword clattering to the ground. Freed stared at me in shock, his bravado crumbling.

Crouching down where he fell, I started to speak, my voice calm but edged with menace. "You know, Freed, I have a subordinate called Demiurge. He's quite the scholar and experimenter. Currently, he's trying to figure out why only humans and half-humans have the ability to possess Sacred Gears."

Freed glared up at me, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and fury. "What the hell are you talking about?" he spat.

"Well," I continued, ignoring his outburst, "Demiurge has even prepared a thesis about it. He speculates that the appearance of Sacred Gears is linked to the human soul's unique connection to the divine and the infernal. Fascinating stuff, really."

Freed's confusion was palpable, and I could see him struggling to understand where this conversation was going. "What does that have to do with me?" he demanded.

"Oh, everything," I said, smiling benignly. "You see, he's always in need of test subjects. Because I am a kind leader, I told him not to hunt humans and he was quite depressed hearing that because it stunted his progress. And that's where you come in. Freed, with your twisted little mind and history, you just earned yourself a first-class ticket to hell."

Freed's eyes widened in fear. "You're insane!"

"Insane? Perhaps," I mused, "but practical. Just as I told you, I am a kind leader, so I will tell Demiurge not to kill you. Think of it as my way of giving back to society—by removing a pest and providing valuable research material."

Freed's face contorted with anger and desperation, but he was speechless for once. I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Oh, and I almost forgot. You enjoy raping women, don't you? Such a charming hobby. I'm sure Demiurge will find a way to… channel that energy productively."

Freed's eyes widened in horror, his bravado crumbling further.

"And don't worry," I continued, my tone almost cheerful. "I'll make sure Demiurge gives you occasional breaks by sending you to Neuronist's office, where you can partake in some... extracurricular activities. Trust me, you'll find the experience quite enlightening."

The color drained from Freed's face, and for a moment, he looked like a trapped animal, eyes darting around for an escape. It was almost pitiful, really, watching him try to cling to his bravado. Almost.

Without giving him another thought, I sent a mental message to Shalltear, who was in my apartment with Yuri and Albedo.

"Shalltear, Open a gate to current location, I have a package for Demiurge."

~~~

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