Kei sat at the kitchen table clutching a chipped mug of lukewarm tea, staring blankly into space.
Across from him, Aris laid out a neatly stapled stack of paper like it was a battle plan.
Vel was perched on the counter behind him, legs crossed, sipping from a cocktail glass full of something glowing and pink. She'd somehow changed into a red satin robe that left way too little to the imagination.
Kei tried not to look. He failed. Then looked away so fast he practically sprained his neck.
"Still shy?" Vel teased, voice a low purr. "It's cute. You flinch like a squirrel every time I breathe."
"I'm just—tired," Kei muttered, eyes fixed on a knot in the wood table. "And confused. And possibly hallucinating."
"Poor thing," she cooed. "Want me to give you a relaxing massage?"
Aris slammed a pen down between them. "Focus."
Kei jolted. Vel just laughed.
"Let's review," Aris said, adjusting her collar. "You entered the house willingly. You accepted the key. You signed the rental agreement."
Kei looked at the first page of the document. It did look like a lease—until page 3, where the text devolved into spirals, runes, and what might've been a small doodle of someone screaming.
"…This is legally binding?"
"In five realms," Aris said. "You are now the primary mortal tenant of Residence #666-G, fully authorized to cohabit with entities classified under the Seven Deadly—"
CRASH.
The entire house shook.
A dumbbell the size of a microwave smashed through the ceiling and embedded itself in the floorboards beside the table.
Kei screamed. Again. Louder this time.
Vel sighed. "She's awake."
Thunderous footsteps thundered down the stairs like a goddamn kaiju in sneakers.
And then she appeared—Rika.
Tank top. Sweatpants. Muscles like carved granite. Fiery red hair in a messy ponytail. She carried another dumbbell over her shoulder like it was a baguette. Her eyes lit up (literally glowed) when she saw Kei.
"You're the new meatbag?" she barked. "Cool. You look squishy."
"I—uh—"
"Name's Rika. Wrath. We train at dawn. If you puke, clean it up yourself."
Kei blinked. "I didn't sign up for—"
"You signed the lease," Aris snapped.
"That was in, like, Latin!"
"Demonic Latin," Vel corrected sweetly. "Sexy and binding."
"I want a refund!"
"No refunds," Aris said. "Only growth."
"I want to leave!"
"You can," Vel said, grinning over her glass. "After you improve your love life, conquer your trauma, survive cardio with Rika, and pass a mental stability evaluation administered by Sloth. Who, ironically, will never show up on time."
Kei stared at them.
Then at the hole in the ceiling.
Then back at the contract.
"…I need a nap."
"You'll get one," came a sleepy voice from inside the couch.
Everyone turned. A blanket shifted. A hand emerged, holding a cup of chamomile tea.
Then a girl sat up—pale skin, enormous sweater, messy lavender hair spilling like fog across her face.
She blinked once.
"…Hi," she yawned. "I'm Nebu. Sloth."
She promptly fell back asleep.
Kei's eye twitched.
Vel grinned. "Welcome home."