You might be thinking—if Luck's a devil, wouldn't it be obvious that his father's one too?
Actually, no. Not at all.
See, devils can't reproduce with humans. Biologically, it just doesn't work. When a devil is born, they're an entirely separate species, with a genetic makeup completely incompatible with ours. It's like trying to breed a horse with a crocodile—it's not happening.
So then, how does a devil get born in the first place?
Well, it's a lot more disturbing than you might expect. Devils don't reproduce the normal way. Instead, a devil fetus is implanted directly into a human womb. Where does that fetus come from? Don't ask me—I don't know, and frankly, I'd rather not find out.
Once it's in there, though, it develops like any other baby. It takes on human genetics during the process, is born like a normal child, eats like one, and grows like one. But there are differences. A devil child tends to be physically stronger than average and mentally sharper, too. Their brains develop faster, and they tend to be unusually intelligent. All of that is just laying the groundwork for what happens when they hit puberty.
For devils, their first puberty marks the awakening of their demonic power. And to handle that power, they need a strong body—something capable of containing it without breaking. On top of that, just like my magic, controlling demonic power requires complex mental calculations.
But unlike my magic, demonic power is tightly linked to emotion. It's volatile—easily stirred by feelings—and that makes it much harder to manage.
"Which is why, from now on, you need to start learning how to control your emotions," I say to Luck, keeping my voice steady and calm.
I'm seated comfortably in my self-made magic chair. We're in the living room. Luck is across from me, sunk into the couch, listening closely as I go over the nature of his race. Carla's already been tucked into bed.
"What you're going through now… It's your first puberty—as a devil," I tell him, choosing my words carefully. I deliberately leave out the part about how he was implanted as a devil fetus.
That truth can wait. One day, he'll be ready to hear the full story.
"A devil…" Luck murmurs, eyes downcast, voice barely above a whisper.
Luck was quiet for a few seconds.
He then looked up at me.
"Mr..." Luck stopped.
"You can keep calling me Briar."
"Mr. Briar... am I evil?"
That's quite the question. I guess all the depictions of a devil in the media leaned towards evil. But actually...
"No. Being a devil doesn't mean you are evil."
Hearing the answer, Luck breathed a sigh of relief.
I continue.
"Can you say a lion is evil?"
"That's... I am not sure." Luck answered hesitantly.
"At the end of the day, everything will move according to needs and interest. As a Devil, much like a lion, you will have your own needs."
"Is... my needs will be hurting people?"
I close my eyes for a sec.
I am not going to lie, out of all the devils I've met in the past, the majority are pretty messed up individuals. But well, humans in general are also pretty messed up in the head, so I really can't tell the difference. As far as I knew, the more power and authority a creature have, they could and will eventually become messed up, devil or not.
I open my eyes and look at Luck. He was looking at me with worry.
"No," I answer. "But you will eventually hurt someone..."
'You might even going to kill one.' I added in my mind.
"But that's inevitable. There's no creature born with power on this planet that doesn't end up causing pain to others with it."
At the answer, Luck began to contemplate.
"I think I get it, Mr. Briar."
"Good."
I flick my finger, and from the shadowed corner, a black cat silently steps forward—as if it had always been there.
"She'll stay with you for a while, until you're good enough to control your power on your own."
"I'll be in your care," the cat says in a deep yet distinctly feminine voice, addressing Luck.
Luck just sits there, stunned—unsure how to react to a talking cat suddenly appearing out of nowhere.
As for me, I'm not worried about Luck losing control. The fact that his power is already showing means he has everything it takes to wield it. His real enemy is anxiety. As pathetic as it sounds, the key to controlling his power is simple: he has to believe he can do it. It might sound easy, but unlike the body, the mind is very fragile.
Now that everything's been said, I prepare for the last part of this conversation. I flick my finger again, and out of nowhere, an enigmatic piece of paper materializes before me.
A strange, glowing symbol began to form on the paper, as if writing itself under my will. The paper then floated gently toward Luck's hand, and he caught it without hesitation.
Luck stared down at the contract in his palm.
I kept speaking.
"There's another option," I said firmly. "If you're too afraid to wield that power, I can seal it for you—with a contract."
Though I consider myself a magician, in the supernatural world, I'm known by a different name.
The Contractor.
***
The next morning.
I'm back at my desk, in the cramped office of my startup. Last night was... quite the ordeal. I haven't used magic that intensely in a while—not since the incident with Carla, at least.
As for how it ended? I gave the contract to Luck and told him to take as much time as he needed. The contract itself has a built-in call system—he can reach me any time once he makes his decision. Honestly, I hope he never has to.
As for how things ended with Carla... I stayed out of it. Whether or not she learns the truth about Luck being a devil is his decision, not mine.
Now, you might be thinking I'm putting too much pressure on an elementary school kid. And maybe you're right. But hear me out: you can't apply standard human development to a devil. Mentally, Luck is probably already on par with a college student. It's just one of the perks—or side effects—of having an unnatural intellect of a devil.
I grabbed my notebook, pretending it was just another meeting, and headed toward the team leader's office.
Outside her door, I let out a quiet sigh.
Then I knocked.
"It's me—Briar."
"Come in," Carla's voice called from inside.
I pushed the door open and stepped in.
Carla was seated at her desk, typing away on her laptop. Her expression was focused, her glasses perched neatly on her nose—radiating the same professionalism I've always known her for.
I took a seat across from her.
A few minutes passed in silence. Carla was in full work mode now, and I knew better than to treat her as anything but my team leader in this setting.
I'll admit—I've been too casual with her lately. But seeing her like this, focused and composed, reminded me why I've always respected her.
Then, without warning, she took off her glasses and closed the laptop. Her expression shifted instantly—now she was beaming at me with a wide, childlike smile, the stern professionalism gone like it was never there.
'Never mind. Carla is Carla.'
"Briar, thank you so much for last night," Carla said, her voice warm. "Seriously… It's really convenient having you around. I'll make sure to give you a bonus—from my personal savings, even."
I looked at her, my expression turning serious.
Noticing the shift, Carla flinched slightly and glanced away.
"I-I could throw in a bigger bonus. And extra time off, too. You deserve it," she added, a bit unsure.
I let out a quiet sigh.
"Carla... your story. I want you to tell me everything."
"Ah, well… you know how it is," she said, fidgeting. "The problem's solved now, so maybe we just leave it in the past? You could start teaching me some magic instead…" She was already sweating, clearly dodging the subject, eyes avoiding mine.
"Is it something you can't tell me?"
"No, Briar. It's just… It's personal," she said, her tone softening. "And you've already helped me so much. I don't want to burden you with this, too. Really—Briar—I mean it. I'm truly, deeply grateful."
I watched her closely.
To be honest, I'd sworn to myself long ago that no one would ever find out I could use magic. Because nothing good comes from it. First, they ask for help with something small. Then something bigger. The requests don't stop. Before you know it, they treat you like a wish-granting machine—nothing more.
Eventually, they stop seeing you as a person. You become something else. A divine figure, maybe.
But I'm just human.
And for most people, that's a truth they can't seem to accept—no matter how plainly I say it.
But now... Carla knows. We've been coworkers, friends, for years. She only found out about my magic recently. And yet, the way she treats me—with or without magic…
'It's the same...'
She still sees me as me.
My expression softens as I look at her. A small smirk tugs at the corner of my lips.
"Personal? You mean your exclusive private magazine collection?"
"WHA—! Why are you bringing that up?!" Carla snapped, her face instantly turning red. She grabbed a pencil and flung it at me in frustration—followed by another.
None of them made it. The pencils bounced mid-air, stopped by an invisible barrier.
"Erase that from your memory!" she shouted, storming over and grabbing me by the collar.
"Okay, okay—calm down." I caught her hand, gently pulling it away.
Then I looked her in the eye and spoke, my tone steady.
"Carla, we've known each other for a while now. At this point, we know each other pretty well. You even know my one and only secret. Don't you think it's a little unfair to keep another one from me?"
She hesitated, her grip loosening. Her gaze dropped to the floor.
"No, Briar... you don't understand," she said softly. "This is bigger. And it's very dangerous. Even for you…"
'Even for me?'
I won't lie—that comment rubbed me the wrong way.
"Well, at the very least... can I know what it's about?"
Now that I think about it, there has always been something off about her obsession. Sure, I know she's into magical girls, but it's never really been about the aesthetic or the fantasy. It's the magic itself she fixates on.
And then, during the possession incident—I saw it. That deep, desperate desire. She didn't just want magic out of curiosity or admiration. She needed it.
At my question, Carla went quiet for a few seconds.
Then, slowly, she nodded.
"Well… if it's just telling you, then… I guess I could."