Chapter 2: Signing the Contract

How could it be HIM?!

Thump-thump-thump-thump. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. This feeling… it was pure, unadulterated fear.

George glanced left and right, his hero senses apparently finding no evil lurking in the corners, before striding forward. The clang, clang, clang of his steel boots on the stone floor was like the countdown to her doom, each step bringing him closer.

Her eyes went wide, locked on the holy sword in his hand. A phantom agony flared in her chest. She may have been reborn, but the memory of that blade skewering her was still terrifyingly fresh.

The sword of "Justice" drew nearer.

For the Hero to show up the very instant she hatched could only mean one thing: someone had snitched.

He’s here to finish the job. To stomp out the last embers of my glorious existence!

Kima’s tail fell limply onto her instep, trembling uncontrollably.

George stopped directly in front of the massive eggshell. His tall frame completely eclipsed her, plunging her into shadow. He wore a silver greathelm, his expression a mystery. The holy sword in his hand moved.

Kima squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the sweet release of a second death, but the whistle of a blade cutting through the air never came. She cautiously cracked open her right eye. The terrifying sword was gone. George was carefully, almost awkwardly, placing it behind his back, hiding it from her view.

At some point, he had removed his helmet, revealing a head of brilliant golden hair. His face held a warm, gentle smile, like the first rays of a summer dawn. As if afraid of startling a stray kitten, he spoke in a soft, soothing voice.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his voice imbued with a strange, earnest power that made you almost want to believe him. “You’re safe now.”

Huh? He’s… not here to kill me?

It dawned on Kima in a flash: she’d never told a single soul about her super-secret reincarnation ritual. From George’s painfully simple perspective, she wasn’t a Demon Lord in a new, cuter package. She was most likely the previous Demon Lord's private plaything, another tragic victim for him to rescue.

But Kima didn’t relax. She hadn’t forgotten her new job title.

A succubus.

Even if this goody-two-shoes was kind-hearted enough not to tie her to a stake and have a barbecue, she would undoubtedly be carted off to a holy sanctuary and locked away for life. So much for regaining her strength and exacting her glorious revenge. There was no way she could gather resources and level up under the watchful eyes of a bunch of crusty old virgins, cheat system or not.

Her only future would be to grow old and die in a simple, cold, boring cell.

And even if, by some miracle of demonic luck, she managed to escape, what then? As a pathetically weak succubus with zero combat ability, her delectable body would be coveted by every degenerate in the land…

As she pictured this, George’s warm, heroic smile began to morph. In her mind’s eye, Kima saw a horrifying vision of herself, haggard and used, her reputation in tatters, passed around by every burly brute with a few copper coins.

What do I DO?!

There was no way Sir George here would just turn around and leave. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, Kima saw the faint blue magic barrier shimmering around the egg. It was a protective ward, quite tough, meant to give her a fighting chance if her minions ever got any funny ideas.

Of course, against an opponent with overwhelming power, the barrier was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. But next to it, on the floor, was an ancient stone slate. A slate that could be used to sign a slave contract.

In that instant, a magnificent, insane, and utterly humiliating idea exploded in her mind.

I’ll trick him into signing a slave contract with me!

A slave contract couldn't be forced on the strong. To make it work, there was only one way: the Hero George would have to be the master, and she, the once-great Demon Lord Kima, would have to be the slave.

The sheer indignity was unbearable. How could she, a magnificent Demon Lord, become the property of a Hero?

Kima’s pride instinctively rejected the plan. But a second later, cold, hard reality slapped her in the face. It was the only lifeline she had.

If she could deceive him into signing the contract, his Paladin powers would be weakened by the unholy pact. He would then be forced to take her with him to find a way to break it. And since breaking such a contract was incredibly difficult, the long journey would give her countless opportunities for scheming, seduction, and sabotage.

It was a hopelessly idealistic, long-shot plan.

Even if she managed to trick him, her fate would rest entirely on George’s Boy Scout character.

If he had even a sliver of darkness in his heart, he could just kill her to solve the problem permanently. Or, if he were feeling slightly more merciful, he might take his anger out on her by using her as a "living aphrodisiac," exploiting her succubus nature for his own… stress relief. She would be utterly powerless to resist.

But Kima would rather take the risk. She was not the type to sit around and wait for death.

To become strong again, she would risk anything!

George, bless his simple, heroic heart, was completely unaware that the adorable little succubus staring blankly at him from inside the egg had, in a matter of moments, already concocted a devious, multi-stage plot against him.

He leaned forward, reaching a hand toward Kima. The pale blue magic barrier blocked his fingers. George frowned. “So the Demon Lord imprisoned you with magic.”

With that, he reached for the holy sword behind his back, preparing to shatter the barrier with righteous fury.

“Eek!”

Kima let out a terrified shriek, frantically waving her little hands.

George immediately checked his strength, but the holy sword still tapped against the barrier. The entire shield shuddered violently.

Kima clutched her chest and collapsed dramatically onto the bottom of the eggshell, a fake expression of heart-wrenching agony plastered on her face.

“That despicable Demon Lord! To think he would link a barrier to a person’s life force!” George cursed.

Hearing this, Kima inwardly rejoiced while clutching her stomach, staggering to her feet as if grievously injured.

“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, I didn’t mean it,” George soothed the damsel in the egg.

Kima put on her best frightened-doe act, trembling as she looked up at George with wide, timid, tear-filled eyes.

“I only want to save you,” George said, his handsome face etched with remorse. “Do you know of any way to turn off this barrier?”

Of course Kima knew, but she wouldn’t say a word. A Paladin's ears could detect lies, so she had to rely on the universal language of damsels in distress. She cast a terrified glance at George’s face—which wasn’t hard, considering she was genuinely terrified.

“I won’t hurt you,” George promised, his voice earnest.

Kima, appearing to be moved by his sincerity, painstakingly shifted her gaze to the stone slate beside her. George’s eyes naturally followed, and he picked it up. He saw a crude diagram etched onto its surface: a picture of a person cutting their finger, dripping blood onto the slate, and then reaching for a young girl.

Above it was a line of text written in a strange, flowing script that looked suspiciously like Kanji characters: “Drip blood on the slate, then touch the pretty little miss, and you shall receive a maid!”

“What kind of writing is this? It looks like a bunch of worms crawling on the ground. I’ve never seen it before,” George muttered. “Still… it looks like it might be the way to open the barrier.”

He hesitated. Any magic involving blood was usually bad news. This could easily be a trap set by the Demon Lord, a nasty curse.

But he couldn’t just abandon her, even if she was a succubus. She was an innocent succubus! Probably.

“It’s only a curse,” George said bravely, pulling off his right gauntlet. He nicked his finger with a dagger, letting the blood drip onto the slate.

Runes on the stone flared to life, glowing with a sinister green light that coiled around George’s right hand. He gave a slight, chivalrous bow, a friendly smile on his face, and extended his hand toward the girl in the egg. As his fingertips touched the magic barrier, it dissipated at Kima’s mental command.

Kima stared at his hand, hesitating for a fraction of a second. Who could have predicted this? The great Demon Lord, who had spent her life forcing others into slave contracts, was now about to become someone else’s property just to survive.

She took a deep breath and reached out, placing her small, delicate hand in George’s large, calloused one. George squeezed it gently. To her utter surprise, Kima felt a flicker of genuine security.

The power of the contract began to seep into her body. She felt an unseen energy forming into chains, wrapping around her very soul, one cold link at a time. It felt like someone was fastening a dog collar around her neck. From now on, freedom could kiss her shapely new ass goodbye.

A true man knows when to bend and when to stand tall, Kima told herself. But as the slave contract completed and she felt the phantom collar lock around her neck, her face flushed crimson with humiliation.

She lowered her head, silently unleashing a torrent of creative curses at George in her heart.

This is all his fault! When I get my power back, I’ll cuck him so hard his ancestors will feel it! I’ll corrupt all his girlfriends right in front of his stupid, handsome face…

But even as she seethed internally, Kima didn’t forget her performance. She had to mislead George into thinking this was all a tragic accident. If he suspected it was a conspiracy, her fate would be very, very grim.

She lifted her face to George, forcing the most pitiful expression she could muster. To make it more convincing, she dredged up the soul-crushing memory of the day her harem was destroyed.

Thirty maids, gone. Thirty NTR flags, gained.

A wave of genuine sorrow washed over her. Tears welled up in her golden eyes. Her cherry-pink lips parted, and she uttered a word of profound, soul-crushing shame. “Ma… Master.”

“Huh?”

The gears in George’s heroic brain finally clicked into place. He had just signed a slave contract.

Almost simultaneously, the unholy pact clashed with the divine power thrumming within him. The backlash was immediate and brutal. A sharp pain pierced his heart, spreading through his chest like fire. A sacred parchment inscribed with holy precepts on his breastplate burst into flames, turning to ash. George clutched his chest as a sweet, metallic taste filled his mouth, and bloody foam frothed at his lips.

Recalling the succubus’s every action, he grew deeply suspicious. She must have lured me into this intentionally!

“You despicable—!” George began, his voice choked with rage, but then he saw her tear-streaked face.

Kima’s little face was a masterpiece of tragedy. She was trying to force a brave smile through her tears, her eyes a perfect mixture of worry for him and fear of his anger (the former Demon Lord was very, very worried about her own award-winning acting skills). She looked like a small, innocent animal caught in a trap.

In an instant, George’s righteous fury melted away.

Such an innocent girl. She was just born. How could she possibly be capable of such a sinister plot?

The only way to undo the magic barrier was to sign this contract. She must have misunderstood, thinking I intended to enslave her from the start. She must have been too terrified to even speak.

Having rationalized it with flawless hero logic, George clenched his fist, directing all the blame towards the vile, perverted Demon Lord who had surely set this all up. He took a deep breath, calming himself. Looking at the innocent little succubus, he was overcome with guilt. If only he had been more patient, less impulsive, perhaps he could have avoided this terrible outcome.

“I’m sorry,” George said, the words heavy with shame. “I… I seem to have accidentally signed a slave contract with you.”

This terrified Kima. She thought George was about to make a “difficult decision”—namely, killing her to instantly and cleanly break the contract.

“Master, do you… not like me?” She frantically channeled every damsel-in-distress trope from the otaku media of her past life. “Are you going to abandon me? Are you going to throw me away?”

“No, you misunderstand! I came to vanquish the Demon Lord in the name of justice! I came to save you!”

“Then… am I not your spoil of war?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

“Absolutely not! We Paladins do not engage in such evil practices!”

“So…” Kima blinked, and the tears that had been welling in her eyes finally spilled over, tracing shining paths down her cheeks. “...You’re just going to throw me away? Like… like trash?”

“I won’t be a burden! I swear! Even though I’m small, I’ll work really, really hard to learn how to serve you. I promise I’ll make you very, very comfortable. Please, I’m begging you, don’t abandon me!”

George felt a massive headache building, more exhausting than fighting the Demon Lord himself. He desperately tried to explain his noble ethos, rambling about his quest for justice, his devotion to the teachings of the Dawn God, and his sacred mission to vanquish all evil.

“In any case, I swear on my honor that I will find a way to break this slave contract. You have my word.”

“Yes, Master.”

“You can’t call me Master anymore. Call me by my name, George.”

“But…”

“No buts.”

“Okay, Master George.”

“Just. George.”

“G-George,” Kima stammered obediently.

“Good.” George looked completely drained, as if he’d just fought the Demon Lord and his entire army single-handedly. “I will take you back to the Holy Sanctuary to report. I will guarantee your safety.”

Kima breathed an internal sigh of relief. This was going even better than she’d dared to imagine. This guy was even dumber than she had anticipated. She felt more and more that her temporary humiliation was a worthy investment. A righteous idiot this pure was rarer than a unicorn these days.

Kima replied with a sweet, melodic voice, “Okay, George~.”

George took off the heavy cloak from his silver armor, intending to give it to Kima to wear.

But Kima, with surprising agility, grabbed the edge of the eggshell with both hands and leaped out, landing naturally right in front of him. She reached out her small hands to take the cloak, her delicate, pale, and utterly naked body completely exposed to his view.

It wasn't intentional. Her brain, still operating on ‘manly man’ logic, had no concept of modesty.

George stared blankly at the bold little girl, completely stunned. His brain short-circuited. His eyes could only focus on the tip of her long, slender tail, swaying gently between her calves.

Only then did Kima’s brain catch up. She now looked like a little succubus girl. And she was standing completely naked in front of her sworn, mortal enemy.

No way! I can’t let this damn virgin get a free peep show! Kima instinctively went to cover her chest, but as she raised her hands, she realized this wasn't just a matter of being exposed.

This was a serious political issue of masculine pride!

To cover up meant she was admitting, from the bottom of her heart, that she was now a woman. A real man wouldn't be so shy.

But not covering up felt like she was letting her enemy get one over on her, which also pissed her off immensely.

In the end, her stubborn, masculine pride won out. As if to prove she hadn't surrendered to her cruel fate, she defiantly lowered her hands and looked George straight in the eye.

People always overestimate their own fortitude. Before long, Kima felt a strange and intense wave of shame—a completely foreign sensation—wash over her. She regretted it instantly, wanted to cover herself, but felt she would lose face. She froze, caught in an agonizing stalemate of pride and modesty.

In those few, eternally long seconds, George didn’t notice any of this complex inner turmoil.

In his eyes, Kima was pure and innocent, completely ignorant of the ways of the world. He was instantly filled with a profound and overwhelming sense of shame for his own momentary lapse.

George quickly turned his head away, his face beet red, and wrapped his brown cloak around Kima’s small body.

“My deepest apologies! I… I wasn’t thinking,” George stammered, refusing to look at her. “As a girl, you shouldn't let people see you so casually in the future.”

The word "girl" was incredibly grating, like nails on a chalkboard. Kima bit her lip lightly and nodded meekly.

“Right, what’s your name?”

“Kima,” the former Demon Lord said honestly.

“Gima… What a coincidence. It sounds almost the same as the Demon Lord’s name.” George, bless his heart, didn’t think much of it. “Gima, stay close to me. I’ll lead the way.”

Gima, huh? That name isn’t half bad… Gima mulled over her new name. As George turned his back, a sly, predatory glint appeared in her golden eyes.