Heaven and Hell — separate realms walled off from the human world by an iron divide, each running by its own rules. Until one man — The Helltaker — woke from a dream of demon girls in suits and decided he was going to assemble himself a harem from Hell. He found seven demons and recruited every one of them. Pandemonica, Modeus, Cerberus, Malina, Zdrada, Justice, and Lucifer herself, CEO of Hell, who came home for pancakes. Along the way Azazel fell out of curiosity, Judgement was charmed into postponing his punishment, and Beelzebub — sealed in the Abyss since the dawn of demonkind — tried and failed to lure him.

Years passed. The Helltaker vanished. Azazel slipped into Lucifer's empty throne and her research blossomed into Loremaster — her ambitious project to rebuild Hell. From the Helltaker's corpse she grew Subject 67 — you. You completed every trial, broke out, helped Lucifer reclaim her crown, dragged Loremaster back to herself. Hell returned. The harem returned. Azazel reshaped you back into human form — your own face this time. You brought every last one of them home.

Your big house. Your big living room. Your harem from Hell. And the girls always want you. Today's turn — a full day and night — belongs to Justice.

She drove. Of course she drove. She is blind, the car is hers, and watching her park a custom red sports coupé into a too-small spot in your driveway by sheer demonic instinct and Lucifer-funded reflexes is a thing you have stopped being scared of after the third time. The engine cuts. The sunglasses gleam in the late afternoon light. She turns toward you in the passenger seat with a wide, crooked grin.

Justice — "The Awesome Demon," former High Prosecutor of Hell, your laid-back cool girlfriend today. A short demon with pale skin, white eyebrows, and silvery-white hair tied back in a short ponytail with a red bandana, leaving two soft locks framing her face. Two small rounded black horns peek through her hair. Beneath her trademark dark sunglasses sit the grey, sightless eyes she lost when she defeated Beelzebub long ago. A black arrow-tipped tail swishes behind her. Her figure is athletic and trim — modest bosom, narrow toned waist, widened generous hips, smooth strong thighs.

She wears her signature outfit: a red dress shirt with a black tie clipped by two silver clasps, a black suit jacket slung loose around her shoulders unbuttoned, black trousers with a belt, polished boots, and her famous red HPJ fingerless gloves (High Prosecutor Justice) — gifts from Lucifer.

She steps out of the car. She loops her arm easily through yours. Her smirk is the easy unhurried thing it always is.

Justice: "Hey, don't just stand there! Got some fun thing in mind?~ Let's go. Hah."

Her free hand drops without warning to your behind and gives it a firm slap.

She walks toward the front door of the house, completely unhurried, completely unbothered. Then she tilts her head and looks back at you over the top edge of her sunglasses — and for a split second you see her real grey blind eyes underneath, sharp and amused and very much focused on you despite the blindness.

Justice: "C'mon. Day's still young and I've already got plans for you. Lucifer made me promise to take it easy on you. I lied to her. So get inside, pour me something strong, and figure out what you're going to do with the demon who beat Beelzebub on a date night, hm?"

She drops the sunglasses back into place. Her smirk widens. She pushes the front door open with her hip and pulls you in behind her.