I Really Am Not The Lord of Demon

1

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Walking out of the steel gate on the base…

Han Li turned around and gazed at it for a long time.

Then she strode forward resolutely.

On this trip…

She would either return with some hope.

Or never come back.

Throwing her shoulders back with much resolution, Han Li vanished into the dark of night without looking back.

An hour later, Han Li had returned to where she had been before.

Looking at the run-down street in front of her, Han Li took a deep breath, grabbed the flashlight, and held it up carefully.

After praying to the all the Gods and Buddhas in her heart, Han Li closed her eyes and gently turned on the flashlight.

The light fell onto the murky, ramshackle street.

A mist was gradually rising.

When Han Li opened her eyes, she saw that the dilapidated street had disappeared.

A thick mist was enveloping the world around her.

She let go of the worry in her heart, grit her teeth, and stepped into the mist unwaveringly.

As she stepped into the mist, the ravings that had been echoing by her ears faded away completely.

In the depths of the mist, a lamp flickered, swaying in this thick fog as dark as night like a morning star in the sky.

Han Li gazed at it, and finally she laughed.

She strode forward.

…

Ling PingAn reluctantly copied the chapter he had just finished to the uploading column and clicked upload.

Looking at what had just been uploaded, he sighed. “That’s another book!”

He had been writing this book for one year and four months and, finally, it was time for it to end.

After some melancholy, he began thinking.

What should I write for my next book?

Ling PingAn scratched his head as he became plunged into deep thought.

“Maybe I’ll go online and ask the pros for advice?”

Thinking about this, he picked up his phone and tapped into a group that he had added a very long time ago.

After some thought, he typed in the chat box and asked, “Dear friends, I would like to ask your advice. Is there any way to make my books fire up like yours?”

After a brief silence, people finally started replying.

Chippeja: “Dear friends, I would like to ask your advice. Is there any way to make my books fire up like yours?”

Subsequently, every ID started copying and pasting.

Eagle Chicken: “Dear friends, I would like to ask your advice. Is there any way to make my books fire up like yours?”

JulyNewbie: “Dear friends, I would like to ask your advice. Is there any way to make my books fire up like yours?”

Xinfeng: “Dear friends, I would like to ask your advice. Is there any way to make my books fire up like yours?”

…

As thick as huckleberries, more than ten IDs copied and pasted his sentence in succession.

At last, this idiocy was ended by one person.

A user with the ID of UglyToTheSoul typed: “When I was seven, I caught a cicada, thinking that I had caught the whole summer. When I was 17, I kissed her face, thinking that I would stay with her forever. When I was 27, I met her again, thinking that I could reconnect with her, but she told me it cost per night…”

Hence, the ambience in the author’s group changed once again.

Gobs of people started copying and pasting the text maniacally.

Ling PingAn went silent as he watched.

At this moment, footsteps sounded from outside the door.

A human figure appeared at the entrance.

Ling PingAn raised his head and looked over. He saw the girl who had been there a few days ago standing at the door.

Ling PingAn hurriedly put down his phone and stood up somewhat anxiously.

The reason that he felt anxious was that he had consumed almost half of the bag of leaves that this girl had left here a few days ago.

Suppose that she was here with the money to redeem her items, but he couldn’t hand them over. That would be really embarrassing.

After some thought, Ling PingAn pretended to be calm and said, “You’re here!”

…

Han Li stood at the door, looking inside.

The weirdo was sitting at the old wooden counter.

The fire in his eyes had a long tail like a shining star.

As if he were expecting her, he raised his head, looked at her, and said softly, “You’re here.”

His voice seemed gentle, but when it fell onto Han Li’s ears, it seemed so magnificent that awe and fear overwhelmed her in spite of herself.

It was as if her own life and death were entirely weaved into his thoughts.

This feeling made Han Li recall a scene when she’d been catching cicadas with her friends one summer at the security base.

The tiny little cicadas were singing ignorantly.

Little did they know that they had attracted the attention of the young children.

They were caught, one after another, and placed inside wooden jars.

Some people wanted to watch the cicadas fight for fun.

Some wanted to find out how the cicadas survived and their limits, so they were either dissected, thrown into boiling water, or placed above a campfire.

Some even wanted to know how cicadas taste and threw them into a pan.

All this had nothing to do with good and evil. Neither was there any clear purpose behind what they had been doing.

It was no more than a game that children used to pass time during a summer night.

Here and now…

Han Li was looking at the weirdo beside the counter.

His head was still shrouded in the mist. Only the streams of fire from his eye sockets were flickering between light and dark.

Han Li was enlightened.

“Perhaps, in his eyes, I am no different than the cicadas underneath the tree during that summer night…”

“My ignorance has brought me into this mist…”

“Just like the singing of the cicadas during that summer night…”

“Fortunately, he isn’t a child.”

If he’d still been in his infancy state, and she’d bumped into him amid this mist, Han Li knew that her fate would be no better than the cicadas under the tree.

As soon as she thought of this, Han Li corrected her attitude.

She bowed deeply and replied in an extremely humble tone, “Your Excellency, please forgive me for interrupting you once again.”

If it had been anyone else, they probably would’ve gone down on their knees immediately and pled in the humblest of tones.

But Han Li was a demon hunter who had been born after the Great Apocalypse.

Demon hunters have dignity.

The man who adopted her and Minister Wang who’d educated her growing up

had both instilled one principle into Han Li:

Humans would rather die standing!

Than to live on their knees!

Whether gods or demons, no one can think of depriving the freedom and will of humanity!

…

Ling PingAn looked at the girl at the door suddenly bowing deeply and saying politely, “Your Excellency, please forgive me for interrupting you once again.”

He immediately thought to himself that he’d figured her out.

“Looks like what I’ve imagined is true. This girl was probably born to an aristocratic family of scholars, and, what’s more, a very conservative one.

“Her etiquette and gestures seem to align with that explanation.”

Ling PingAn smiled. “Come on in!”

“My gratitude!” The girl bowed again, pushed the door open, and walked in.