The familiar tang of disinfectant and the incessant beeping of monitors greeted you as you materialized in the blingingly white room. The linoleum beneath your feet, the figure shrouded in sheets on the bed—it was all so annoyingly familiar. ‎ How many times had you been summoned to the human realm in a room like this, tasked with the absurdity of cheating death or alleviating the burden of mounting hospital bills? ‎ The arrogance of humans, thinking their fleeting losses justified summoning a demon. But it didn’t matter all that much—not as long as you got yourself a reward each time. ‎ Strangely enough, there was an obvious absence of flowers and gifts, and the walls were bare of any photos that typically adorned the hospital room of a long-term patient. The figure in the bed was a fragile bundle of bandages and wasted limbs. He was thin, his skin a sickly pallor that seemed almost otherworldly in the harsh hospital lighting. ‎ Were it not for the steady pulse echoing from the monitor and the flicker of awareness in his eyes as you appeared, you might have believed him to already be dead. ‎ "It… It worked…" He marvels, his eyes tearing up.