Chapter 21: Becoming Someone

That was nothing but a bane.

Born without ever gaining a single thing, desiring nothing, knowing nothing.
Neither desired nor known by anyone, without even the thirst for life.

A life without even the original sins most demons bear.

No sloth, no greed, no lust, no wrath, no gluttony, no pride—no meaning sufficient to justify living, no will.
Before I could even hope for a plus, I first needed to become zero.

I was nothing more than a minus.

A demon without wisdom or power is fated in the demon realm’s law of the jungle to sit and await death.
And demons like that were far from rare; they overflowed not just in the royal capital but even in provincial towns.
That’s why—it must have been pure coincidence that I escaped such a fate.

Many demons have no value worth taking, but if I had to say, then I suppose I was just lucky.

There was a man being dragged. A man with a languid expression, saying nothing, simply letting himself be hauled along. His fine velvet-like black cloak scraped against the ground, turning white with dirt.

There was a woman dragging him. A woman who spread an aura of raging flames that made passersby tremble, each step striking the ground with force. The pounding sound of her long staff pierced the air as if to scream out her fury in place of her silence.

There was me. Just me, sitting by the roadside, watching without will, without meaning, by sheer chance. And beside me, companions who also only watched in the same way.

The man and woman never once cast their gaze toward me or my companions. But just as they were about to pass us—his left hand stretched out and pulled me into his arms.

This body of mine—small and frail, light for my age from not even eating properly—was lifted up.

As smoothly as if plucking an apple in passing.

My companions made no sound even as I was taken away, and neither did I.

Later I heard it was because he wanted a pillow. What the hell.

And like that, by nothing more than coincidences piled atop coincidences, I became a convenient pillow. I was picked up by the King of Sloth, desired only for that size and value, and by some twisted fate was incorporated into the army of the "Slaughter Doll," Lazy Slaughterdoll.

Needless to say, by the time he held me, Lord Lazy was already asleep.

What came after wasn’t such an amusing tale.

Once we returned to the Shadow Sleeping Palace, I lost the survival battle against the pillow he normally used, and thus lost my position. Then came the outrageous shout of Kanon Ir Lord—the inspector overseeing Lord Lazy at the time and the head of the Black Followers: "Since when did you bring in such filthy trash!?" And I was about to be thrown into the incinerator.

But I was saved. Saved by the maid Rona, who grossly misinterpreted Lazy-sama’s "yo wa" as affection.

Before I knew it, I had been dressed in doll-like beautiful clothes, force-fed food prepared just in case the ever-reluctant Lord Lazy might want "seconds," and it was only then that my thoughts finally caught up.

Huh? What the hell is this?

A demon’s craving is not something they choose. It’s something inevitably born from overwhelming desire.

If a demon possesses multiple cravings, they cloud one another, and their class growth slows. That’s why most demons unconsciously adjust themselves to hold only the desire they pursue.

For a bottom-tier demon who had no leeway to desire excess, who was already a miracle simply for being alive—once given an environment to survive, and finally room to think—what is the first, strongest craving born?

What is strong emotion?

It is not relief at being saved, nor a virtuous prayer of gratitude for happiness, nor the self-satisfaction of pitying the companions I left behind.

And needless to say, it was never "Lust Luxeria."

It was—Jealousy.

A burning envy toward the ordinary demons who had always lived their ordinary lives.

Jealousy of Kanon—the beauty who embodied fierce flame and mighty magic close to a Demon King, born as the Demon King’s daughter, serving as the head of the elite Black Followers.

Jealousy of Rona—born into a family that had served Lord Lazy for generations, receiving the finest education, honing skills and strength solely for that duty.

Jealousy of Hard Roader—the one who, as the King of Sloth’s right hand, commanded the army, surpassed all others in strength, and exalted the King’s majesty to the highest.

A mind that envies and covets all things in this world.

"…If only I could take their place."

That was none other than the original sin I bore—Jealousy, Invidia—and my very reason to exist.

Because I was given nothing, I would envy everything and seek to become another.

Darker than "Gluttony Gula"
More covetous than "Greed Avaritia"
More violent than "Wrath Ira"
More fickle than "Lust Luxeria"
More meaningless than "Sloth Acedia"
More twisted than "Pride Superbia"

It was nothing but a hideous "Jealousy."

And yet, the moment I gained it, I thought:
Ah—finally, I have a reason to live.

With this, I can become someone.