We were in the middle of another human survival lecture.

  Mira sat on the sofa with the tired authority of someone who had already expined the same thing twice and was preparing to expin it a third time only because the universe hated her.

  In front of us stood a rge, white rectangur artifact that hummed softly, as if alive.

  “This,” Mira said earlier, tapping it with her foot, “washes clothes.”

  It still didn’t make sense to me.

  Demons didn’t particurly care about clothes. According to ancient prophecy—and several awkward biology lessons—we didn’t even share the same… structural necessities as humans. Clothing, therefore, was optional at best and ceremonial at worst.

  Yet here we were.

  “A box that eats clothes and screams,” Charmie summarized cheerfully. “Truly terrifying.”

  “It hums,” Grando corrected politely. “Not screams.”

  “Not yet,” Charmie replied ominously.

  Mira ignored them both.

  “Mira,” I said thoughtfully, staring at her hands as she counted something with practiced ease, “what is that paper artifact you’re always counting and giving to people when you buy… stuffs?”

  She gnced up at me, eyes half-lidded. “Money.”

  “Money...?” I echoed.

  Charmie’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “Is that… a god in the Human Realm?”

  Grando nodded slowly, putting the pieces together with frightening sincerity. “Miss Mira does said she work every day… for money.”

  I felt something click inside my mind.

  “I see!” I excimed, sitting up straight. “So modern humans still worship something like us!”

  Charmie gasped dramatically. “My Lord… they hide it in paper form! How clever!”

  Grando csped her hands together. “That expins the rituals. The exchanges. The suffering.”

  The three of us stared at one another, awestruck.

  We had solved it.

  Mira inhaled...

  Then exhaled...

  Then snapped. “STOP ASSUMING THINGS!”

  Her hand moved faster than thought.

  Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

  All three of us clutched our heads simultaneously.

  “Ow—!” I hissed.

  “My Lord… my head is spinning…” Charmie murmured weakly before dramatically fainting sideways, tongue out.

  Grando wobbled. “I believe… I see three washing machines…”

  My vision blurred slightly.

  Mira hit harder than any holy sword.

  [Announcement: The Demon Lord has discovered the Human God.]

  “Nice,” I muttered ftly.

  Grando frowned, rubbing her temple. “But, My Lord… I feel like it has become more distant.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The system,” she said quietly. “It announces less tely. Don’t you think?”

  I paused.

  She was right. The ridiculous, intrusive voice that narrated my life like a badly managed prophecy had been… quieter.

  “That’s a good thing,” I said after a moment. “I never liked it.”

  Grando didn’t look convinced. “I hope it’s just because we’re in a different realm…”

  Her voice dropped, barely audible.

  Mira snapped her fingers in front of us. “Stop talking about things you can’t see.”

  We gulped.

  “Do you want to learn or not?” she continued. “I’m not repeating this.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Mira,” Grando said immediately, bowing her head.

  Charmie groaned from the floor but nodded anyway.

  I straightened. “Please continue.”

  With visible reluctance, Mira returned to the washing machine, expining buttons, water, spinning, and something called detergent, which apparently was not poison despite smelling like one.

  After the lesson ended, I found myself thinking again.

  “Mira,” I said slowly, “could you teach us how to make clothes then?”

  She turned to me, eyebrows knitting together. “Why? Didn’t you say demons don’t need clothes?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “But… if one day humans and demons achieve peace… and live together… then we would need to wear clothes. Otherwise humans would feel… uncomfortable.”

  The room went quiet.

  Mira stared at me. Not angry. Not annoyed.

  Just… strangely still.

  “You’re thinking too far ahead,” she said finally. “And making clothes by hand takes time. We don’t have much of that.”

  “I see...”

  She stepped closer, inspected my clothes briefly—pinching the fabric, checking the seams—then sighed and turned away.

  I sighed too.

  We had learned many things already: food, vegetables, hygiene, machines. Useful basic human knowledge.

  But something felt… incomplete.

  This wasn’t just for demons.

  It was for both worlds.

  Peace wasn’t built on washing machines and curry alone.

  “I guess that’s enough for today,” Mira said, clearly ready to end the lesson. “If you can’t think of anything else you wanted to learn, we’ll stop here.”

  Panic struck.

  My mind raced.

  Something important. Something human. Something demons cked.

  Before I could stop myself, the words escaped.

  “Love...”

  Silence.

  [Announcement: The Demon Lord wishes to learn about Human Love.]

  Grando gasped.

  Charmie jolted awake instantly. “OH. MY. LORD.” She grabbed my arm, eyes sparkling. “You’re so bold!”

  Mira blinked.

  “…What?!”

  I swallowed, suddenly aware of how absurd and vulnerable that sounded.

  “If demons and humans are to coexist peacefully,” I said carefully, “then understanding human love… not power… not fear… might be the key.”

  The room felt warmer. Or maybe that was just my imagination.

  Mira didn’t yell.

  She didn’t hit me.

  She just stared.