Episode 1: How to Survive as a Con Artist (1)
Devil Lord Academia, or Devilaka for short, might appear as just another fantasy academy game, but I’ve been immersed in it for a decade.
In those years, I’ve delved deep into its settings and unearthed hidden elements, mastering every aspect the developers may have overlooked.
Instead of adhering to the prescribed path, I’ve sought to forge my own adventures and narratives within the game world.
It wasn’t that the developers were lacking; rather, I yearned to weave my own tale within the game’s world.
However, if I were to enter, there was one fervent plea I wished to make to the powers that be.
“Please, spare me from encountering a protagonist akin to a devil!”
Had the protagonist been commonly just and heroic, I wouldn’t have uttered such a prayer. But this realm was the antithesis.
Their personality was recklessness personified, and their power akin to that of munchkin.
But… I cursed the heavens nonetheless.
*****
“Wake up.”
“What, don’t you wake up?”
Oh, what now, this early in the morning…
“Who are you people to disturb my peace like this in the morning… who are you?”
Rubbing my eyes, I peered up to find a group of unfamiliar faces looming over me.
“Ha… This kid’s at it again, trying to pull a fast one. What’s the scam this time, amnesia?”
“Are you taking us for fools? Where’s your latest con?”
-Spat!
Several students, resembling thugs, encircled another student and commenced a barrage of kicks and insults.
“Sigh… I told you to go fetch a new wooden sword from the shop. Why do you always ignore me?”
“And what about my staff? Did you conveniently forget that too?”
Unfortunately, it was a scene reminiscent of any typical school. Except, instead of trading bread rolls, they were bartering wooden swords and staffs. And…
“I just learned a new spell yesterday, want to test it out by scorching your ears?” Threats of flames instead of fists indicated I wasn’t in the Earth I knew.
“What are you staring at? Are we that insignificant to you?”
“You’re clearly uneducated!”
Their nonsensical excuses trampled over me. With my mediocre physique, enduring the pain was my only option. Thankfully, there were no actual flames burning me.
“If you don’t have it next time, you’ll be toast before this month’s practical exam.”
“Don’t forget the staff, and make sure to scam appropriately for Class C’s theme.”
As they vanished, I remained sprawled on the grass, lost in thought.
I had to admit it. This place was the game I enjoyed, ‘Devil Lord Academy.’
What in the world was happening?!
“Surely… I just turned off the game and went to bed as usual.”
“No way…”
Suddenly uneasy, I glanced around.
Spotting a lake nearby, I rushed towards it.
“Please… Please not him…”
Seeing my reflection in the lake…
“No… No!!!!!!!”
I couldn’t help but scream.
* * * * *
The reason I faced their wrath existed. It was due to the typical behavior of the original owner of the body I now inhabited.
“Radon Crowler.”
A pitiful supporting character labeled a liar throughout the school. The kind of guy who’d spin lies even in a prestigious academy, willing to take a beating without hesitation.
Just my luck to be stuck in that guy’s body now.
“He was a man who began with falsehoods and ended with them.”
As I gazed at the name tag, memories surged forth.
Radon, the eldest son of a fallen family. Yet, he refused to acknowledge his circumstances.
He still boasted of his lineage as a genius scion of the esteemed family, a belief instilled by his father’s relentless indoctrination.
What could drive a father to subject his own son to such manipulation? Was his attachment to the family so consuming that it blinded him to the harm inflicted upon his child?
The answers remained elusive, but Radon had succumbed to grandiose delusions, swiftly earning himself the reputation of a con artist at the academy.
His penchant for spinning fabrications that clashed with the family’s fallen status naturally made him a thorn in the side of those on the outside. The recent incident of being trampled was yet another consequence of this.
“Expulsion seemed an inevitability.”
The outlook was grim indeed.
His stats were lackluster, save for his talent in fishing.
This situation hinted at something more serious – parading around the academy with such an utterly ordinary physique.
It’s no surprise Radon became a target for bullies.
While the violence inflicted upon him couldn’t be justified, the truth remained: Radon was an easy target. He lacked knowledge, couldn’t defend himself, exuded overconfidence, and was prone to habitual lying.
He was the perfect punching bag.
“He’s the whole package.”
Literal translation: the tranquil academy life was a thing of the past. From now on, he was destined to fall even further, becoming a punching bag like just now.
“But I can’t wrap my head around it. Why would a father subject his child to this?”
Slowly, doubts began to surface. Could it be that his father didn’t anticipate his son’s school life descending into chaos?
But there was a rationale behind everything. It could be glimpsed through another window at the bottom of the status bar.
While I’d encountered curse windows in games before, this curse was unprecedented.
As I investigated, I couldn’t help but feel for Radon.
It was a curse that killed you if you didn’t lie. Once the erosion rate reached 100%, it was off to the River Styx. Supposedly, this curse plagued the entire Crowler family.
Reducing the erosion rate meant lying in front of others, regardless of whether they believed it.
In essence, Radon’s father had molded him into a liar because of this curse.
*****
“I’m still a noble prince!”
“I have over 100 lovers!”
“I command 8,000 followers!”
Silence…
Nothing changed. The erosion rate remained stagnant.
“Guess monologues don’t count.”
Dejected, my shoulders sagged.
It was all just empty words unless spoken in front of others.
Even conversing with myself felt absurd, so how could spouting even more nonsense in public be any different?
Suddenly, I felt compelled to reassess Radon.
“Why didn’t I seek help when burdened with such a fatal curse?”
If something like this existed, I should’ve reached out to the school authorities for aid. I shouldn’t have lied about being of noble descent.
Even if speaking was challenging, I could’ve written a confidential letter to seek assistance.
Coincidentally, clergy members were scarce in this academy.
Knock, knock-
“Excuse me.”
“Come in.”
The door I tapped belonged to the infirmary, one of the recovery points in Devil Academy. Seated behind the door was Professor Stella Vermilion, her blonde hair cascading around her.
“Stella Vermilion.” She served as the head nurse, a welcoming figure who tended to those with depleted HP. Additionally, she was a clergy member dispatched by the faculty to contribute to the narrative.
“You’re Radon Crowler, correct? Your reputation precedes you around the school. Not exactly in a favorable light though.”
“Uh, yes.”
“So, what brings you here… Oh my, you’re quite injured.”
It wasn’t solely due to the curse. The bruises from the encounter with those thugs demanded attention.
Now, I had a genuine reason to visit the infirmary.
“You’re quite badly hurt. Who did this to you?”
“There was a minor altercation. It’s my own fault.”
“I see… Well, please sit here for now.”
Following Professor Stella’s guidance, I settled onto the bed. She examined the injuries before channeling her holy power into her hands. With a gentle touch, my wounds mended under her radiant touch.
“Fortunately, these weren’t magical wounds, so they healed easily. But do be more cautious going forward.”
“Yes.”
“And I want to offer you some advice.”
Professor Stella regarded me seriously.
“I don’t know the full story, but you’d better stop lying around. You’ll mature soon enough. If you don’t, you’ll end up hurting yourself more than you did today. Do you understand?”
She exuded genuine concern for her students. By the tone of her words, it seemed she had pieced together why I’d been attacked.
“I understand. From today onward, I’ll approach things more earnestly.”
“Oh, surprisingly, we’re having a coherent conversation?”
Rumors had painted me as an egotistical eccentric. Yet, her expression now betrayed surprise, diverging from what she had heard.
“Professor, may I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
I adopted a serious expression, knowing that as a clergy member, Professor Stella would likely respond seriously to anything concerning curses.
“I seem to be under some curse. Can you help me?”
“Huh?”
I asked earnestly.
Upon hearing my words, Professor Stella tilted her head in confusion.
“What do you need help with just now?”
“….”
I blinked in disbelief.
To my surprise, the only thing the teacher seemed to register from my statement was the request for help. The mention of the curse appeared to have been completely overlooked.
It dawned on me that no one could effectively communicate details about this curse to anyone else. The ability to seek assistance from others regarding the curse seemed to be obstructed.
“Oh… It’s nothing. I apologize for the unnecessary remark.”
“Hmm.”
Feeling disheartened, I offered my apology. While Professor Stella may have caught wind of my nonsensical comment, she didn’t seem to grasp the true meaning behind it.
Encounters with all clergy members would likely yield similar outcomes.
“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”
“Yes. Take care.”
“Oh! One last thing.”
Before departing, I added a few parting words.
“You’ll definitely find a spouse this year, Professor. I guarantee it!”
“Thank you for the encouragement. Your words give me strength.”
Professor Stella replied with a warm smile.
“Goodbye then!”
Click- It was the sound of the door closing behind me.
The erosion rate decreased. Why? Because I had just lied.
A new student? I had foreseen the ending from the beginning… there was no way that would come to fruition.
…Now that I’ve actually gone through with it, I can’t help but feel remorseful.
