When Lucifer stepped out of the healing chamber after his mysteriously exhausting session with Mia and Amelia, he decided that contemplating his existence could wait. First, he needed to explore the world he had apparently reincarnated into without filing a formal complaint.
Sinflare Augustiland was enormous—so absurdly huge that someone clearly looked at a map and thought, "Yes, this needs five kingdoms or it won't feel dramatic enough."
The world was divided as follows:
Hemis Kingdom, home to elves, druids, and forest residents who spoke exclusively in wisdom and disappointment.
Picolo Kingdom, populated by demihumans—dwarves, beastmen, centaurs, and creatures who all insisted their height was "average where I'm from."
Risen Kingdom, the cheerful nightmare zone of demons, vampires, orcs, ogres, and beings who considered graveyards prime real estate.
Oceana Kingdom, ruled by mermaids and leviathans who refused to acknowledge land-based problems.
And lastly, Lustbound Heaven, the kingdom of humans and mixed races, founded on ambition, politics, and extremely questionable family traditions.
Miraculously, none of these kingdoms were at war. Everyone had collectively agreed that coexistence was easier than explaining themselves to historians later.
Lucifer was currently in Evorywood Village, a peripheral settlement of Lustbound Heaven.
In modern terms, the world screamed medieval fantasy—royal bloodlines tracing back to the Lustbound family itself, followed by noble ranks stacked neatly from dukes down to barons who pretended they mattered.
Evorywood was boxed in by geography and bad decisions.
To the south, an endless forest marked the border with Hemis Kingdom.
To the west, colossal mountains rose like a wall of judgment. No one knew what lay beyond them, mostly because anyone who tried never came back to update the village newsletter.
As Lucifer mentally sorted through inherited memories and current confusion, a man approached him.
At first, Lucifer didn't recognize him.
Then realization struck.
It was Derek, the village chief—professional busybody, potion dealer, and walking red flag.
Derek casually slapped Lucifer's shoulder like they were old drinking buddies.
"Heard you got into a fight with your little gang," he said. "Got injured pretty bad, too. Came to check if you were still alive."
Lucifer nodded. "I'm fine."
Derek grinned. "Obviously. With the amount of health potions I gave your mother, you'd recover even if you'd been hit by a dragon, a cart, and poor life choices simultaneously."
He clasped his hands together. "Which means the potions worked. And now I'm here for my payment."
Lucifer gestured toward the house. "My father's inside. He'll pay you."
Derek laughed—a slow, knowing laugh that suggested several crimes had gone unsolved.
"Oh no, no, young man. That was never the agreement."
Lucifer frowned. "Then what was the agreement?"
Derek leaned closer. "Your mother pays me."
Lucifer stared at him. "If you want money, talk to my dad. My mom's a housewife. What exactly do you expect her to pay you with?"
Derek's smile spread like a cursed spell.
"I want the same kind of payment she gave your father after their wedding night. You know—the one where he took her to the moon."
Lucifer's eye twitched.
Derek straightened up, adjusting his coat with proud professionalism.
"Don't worry. I'll send her to the moon again tonight. Free transport. Very exclusive."
Lucifer felt something deep inside him shift—not quite rage, not quite despair, but a calm, unsettling realization.
This world was insane.
The people were unhinged.
The village chief was clearly a menace to society.
And yet…
He exhaled slowly, nodded once, and accepted it with the emotional maturity of someone who had already died once and clearly lost the right to be surprised.
After all, in Sinflare Augustiland, this was apparently considered normal village business.