How to Redeem a Trashy Side Villain

Chapter 138: Black Ash

[Vaelis]

I don't usually come to this district anymore. This is where the lesser demons live and you can immediately tell by how much thicker the air is here.

The dirt and grime cling to your skin and are hard to wash off.

When we were younger, we used to joke that if you breathed long enough, your lungs would either turn to stone or be immune to every disease in the world.

Back then, when we did everything together, we thought that was the funniest thing ever.

Now, I don't even find it funny. I just find it disgusting.

"I wish you didn't live in this disgusting place. I want to vomit," I shook my head as I adjusted the sleeve of my coat.

I wonder if he'll accept my offer if I tell him that I'm willing to pay for him to move somewhere else. Anywhere but… here. Maybe he'd like to come live in my city. Lesser demons aren't really looked fondly upon there, but… maybe he won't mind.

I almost turned back twice. It has been days, weeks, maybe even months since we last spoke properly.

Promotions and assignments pulled us into different strata. Well, more specifically, my promotions. As I moved up the pecking order, my friend sort of stayed stagnant. It wasn't his fault. He just wasn't a higher demon like I was.

Why was I here?

That was a question I asked myself multiple times and the answer I came to each time was that work has been unpleasant lately. I was under pressure from my superiors lately to resolve issues that I simply did not have enough time to resolve.

And today was the worst. My supervisor not only called me out in front of everyone, but he also laughed at the proposal I had drafted.

I've endured worse before but this was just the final straw.

As the laughter in the room echoed and I tried my best not to lose control over myself and begin attacking everyone, I remembered the laughter of someone else. But unlike my coworkers who were laughing at me, that person was laughing with me.

He used to say the dumbest thing with a completely straight face and would give me a confused look when I would die of laughter.

I told myself I'd visit him soon but that "soon" turned into never until tonight.

"He shouldn't have moved homes," I mutter to myself as I stop outside of his building. He lived in the city neighboring mine, so thankfully the trip wasn't too far.

Although I couldn't feel any presence inside, I still had the manners to knock.

No response and I waited a few more seconds before transforming into a fog and phasing through the wall. As I solidified on the other side, I looked around and saw that it was indeed still his home.

None of the furniture had been moved, and his personal belongings still decorated the floor and walls.

The room was dark and cold as I muttered, "Sorry for the intrusion."

"..."

"He won't mind me welcoming myself inside, hehehehe," I chuckled as I was about to take a seat in his dining room.

The air inside smelled stale, but at least it was better than the air outside.

To say that his bedroom was also his living room wasn't an exaggeration. His bed was in the corner of the living room and across from that was his couch.

The cushions were sunken in the middle just like I remembered when I was last here. He used to complain about it but never replaced it because, according to his words, it was "molded to his shape."

Clicking my tongue, I muttered, "Why are you still living like a corpse?" while walking further inside.

On a whim, I went into his kitchen.

He's probably still at work working overtime or… he's wandering aimlessly like he tends to do.

I looked around his home already and there were zero signs of a lover, so the idea of him being out on a date didn't even cross my mind.

"Guess I have no choice but to wait. Not like I have anything better to do tonight anyway," I said as I pulled open his fridge.

I already caught a whiff of it due to how good my sense of smell was, but the smell now that nothing was holding it back hit me hard. It was a sharp, sour, and rotting smell.

Recoiling slightly, I covered my nose.

I began analysing the contents of the fridge. "That is spoiled. Is… how did that even turn gray? Ewwww. Are those veggies liquid? What in the world is inside this bottle? I've never seen this color before in my life!"

Staring at the bottle longer than necessary, I began to wonder if he was also going through something like I was.

My friend was lazy, yes. But not this lazy. If anything, he was so lazy that he wouldn't waste food and let it spoil just because he didn't want to go to the store and buy replacements.

As I murmured to myself softly, "...Idiot. You could've at least cleaned this up before I came to visit," a quiet discomfort was beginning to creep up my spine.

Closing the fridge, I shook my head as I straightened up. Leaning against the counter, I crossed my arms and thought to myself:

Fine. Tomorrow, the two of us are going to clean all of this up and go shopping for some groceries and maybe… some new things to decorate this place.

I would pay for everything.

Of course, before all of that, I would have to tell him I was sorry first. Sorry for not visiting. Sorry for climbing up the social ladder without looking back. Sorry for pretending I was too busy to catch up with him.

The thought of apologising made my chest tight as it wasn't something that demons were proud of doing, so I pushed the thought away for the moment.

I would revisit it once he was home.

Heading to the center of the living room, I took a seat on his couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"How long will I be waiting?" I pondered in the empty room.

Leaning back, I uncrossed my legs and began kicking my feet idly. My heels would thump lightly against the edge of the couch in this lazy rhythm as I stared at nothing.

As minutes passed, I began to wonder again what he could be up to to be so late.

Did he… did he get himself a lover?

I quickly shook my head.

Sighing dramatically, I sat upright and said, "This is boring." Glancing toward his bed, I began thinking about the past when we used to jump on each other's beds until the frames nearly broke.

He always scolded me for it, even though he was the one who started it.

As a faint smile tugged at my lips, I stood up without thinking too much about it and walked over to his bed. As I pressed a knee into it, the mattress dipped slightly and creaked.

"Let's see if this thing is any comfort—"

Before I finished my sentence, something caught my eye. A faint discoloration on the blanket. It was subtle, dark, and could easily be mistaken for a dirty stain that wasn't out of place in a place like this.

But I paused and uttered, "...What's this?"

If I hadn't tried to rest on his bed, I might not have noticed it.

Getting closer, I brushed my finger over the surface. It had a powdery texture, which was my first impression. But it was a little rougher than most powder and it clung to my skin.

Lifting my hand, I stared at the black residue that coated my fingertips.

For a moment, my mind refused to process it. But the truth is — I recognized what it was.

My expression had been a confused one a few seconds ago but now, it was completely empty.

This wasn't soot from the outside or the result of my friend being a dirty, lazy person who didn't take showers.

I had seen this before. Many times.

This was the black ash that was left behind by a demon when their life came to an end.

"..."

"..."

"..."

My fingers trembled as I brought my stained hand closer to my face. Even though I was totally sure this was the black ash, I chose to latch onto the smallest chance that it wasn't by inhaling the faint scent of it into my nose.

"..."

There's no mistaking it.

My jaw tightened and the sound of it grinding echoed in the room.

Somebody… killed my friend.

On his bed. In his own home.

He was killed before I could come back and apologize. Before I could ask him if he hated me for leaving him behind. Before I could acquire his forgiveness and laugh with him again.

Something inside me snapped as my pupils sharpened into slits.

As my lips curled back slightly, my sharp teeth began to reveal themselves.

A low and unstable sound escaped my throat.

I wasn't grieving. Not yet. That could wait once I got to the bottom of this.

The sound was the product of my rage. A rage I had never felt before.

"He never made an enemy out of anyone. He was a good person," I whispered with a voice that no longer sounded like it belonged to me.

Perhaps the only way to describe it was a trait that was both metaphorical and literal for me: demonic.

As my claws extended out involuntarily, the fabric of the blanket was sliced through. As I grabbed the blanket and pulled my fingers towards my palm, it began to crumple.

"I'm going to kill you. Whoever killed my friend in his own home… I'm going to kill you. I'm going to give you pain that you've never felt before."

When I finally left the empty home, I whispered, "I'm sorry. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me."

As my demonic energy began to rise due to me finding it harder and harder to control it, I began to promisehim something.

I was going to find the culprit.

And when I did, they were going to join my friend and keep him company.