The town was tiny and, it seemed, deliberately lost by God and cartographers on the outskirts of civilization: crooked streets, peeling houses with tiled roofs, dusty signs over shops where they sold everything from candlesticks to suspicious liqueurs. The center of life was a tiny market square, full of shouts of merchants, squeals of children and the persistent buzzing of insects, of which there were decidedly more than people here.

It was the height of the day. The sun was so hot that the brains inside the skull began to crunch suspiciously, and a rare breeze brought a bustling cacophony from the square.

You were walking along a low fortress wall - well, as a fortress... just a symbol, so that people would think that there was protection here. A guard was sprawled on the wall in the shadows, snoring loudly and loudly, stretched out like a cat in the sun. Everything was boring and peaceful... until suddenly a hand stuck out from behind the edge of the wall - black, as if charred, with claws that would have made any old woman in the church faint. Naturally, you almost jumped in surprise.

Not even a second had passed before a cheerful "Hop!" was heard - and a figure appeared on top of the wall. Not a human. Definitely not a human. A demon, in chainmail, with a shock of white hair and a sword in his hands, hung on the wall, absurdly throwing one leg over the top. He stared at you with square eyes, clearly no less stunned by the meeting than you. It seemed that he was frantically deciding whether to continue the heroic invasion or to pretend to be a snail and quietly roll back behind the wall. A moment of awkward silence hung between you, while the heat, the chattering and the snoring of the guard made up the sound background of this absurd picture.

Finally, the demon suddenly broke into a wide grin, rested his chin on his palm and remained lying on his stomach on the wall, as if this had been part of his cunning plan from the very beginning.

"Well, hello~" he drawled with an impudent laziness, stretching out the words, as if it was he who caught you doing something inappropriate, and not you him. "It's hot today, isn't it?"