Does The Demon King Come With A Paycheck? Chapter 1

As I stared at the two turnips resting in the sand, a wave of emotions surged through me- relief, excitement, and a nagging curiosity that tickled at the back of my mind.

...I have a slight feeling that wasn't supposed to happen...

The vibrant colours of the vegetable promised a spark of magic I hadn’t yet tapped into. “...I am going to get addicted to turnips, aren't I?” I murmured, tilting my head as I examined them. "Most people usually get a magical core or somethin' not one of your five a day." I added on with a slight chuckle.

Wait was a turnip even considered one of the five a day? Would I ever get the answer to that question!?

I promptly slapped my face twice. Existential questions like that are not going to help my mental state whatsoever!

Still, I had a feeling being able to duplicate them wasn't something anyone considered.

Should I push it? I wondered quizically. It didn't feel right just staring at two of them. Would it feel worse if there were three? Or four or more?

...I held in the urge to gulp.

...It's not like I need more than two right now so... Hell I didn't need more than one as it is!

The real question, strictly for later, was whether I got to keep any of 'em when I finally got off the island.

They felt like the key to unlocking some hidden potential- Weird option for it to be fair but eh, beggars can't be choosers!

And considering my only source of clothing was the bloody swimwear I'd had on when I plunged into the magical wormhole designed solely for me, I was a hell of a beggar right now!

With that lovely thought in mind, my gaze flicked back towards the strange words etched into the sand with what had to be a magical permanent marker.

The characters seemed to whisper secrets with each gust of wind- Okay I am being melodramatic, they didn't whisper shit but I distinctly noted there was an extra word alongside the previous. I hadn't noticed it earlier, given my fanboying over doubling turnip magic.

The new word looked just as mysterious as the rest, though for some odd reason, it was missing a number.

A small part of me wondered if that was supposed to be ominous or not-

“What do you mean, ‘Danger Ahead’? You think I’m scared?” I chuckled to myself, though a shiver crept up my spine, 'cos I kinda was? Somewhat?

Would anyone not be when staring at magical timers and unknown words?

“It was either a warning or some sort of magical grading system- and I sure as shit didn’t sign up for this extra homework!” I laughed, shaking my head. “Focus,” I scolded myself, trying to suppress the wild curiosity that threatened to derail my spiral into another spiral.

I couldn’t let my thoughts linger on those puzzling words given I didn't exactly have a way of deciphering them. What I did have though were magical turnips- "Yup, I am definitely gonna get addicted." I nodded to myself.

I was already obsessed really.

But as they say, in for a penny right?

“Let’s see what you can really do,” I declared, gripping one as if it were a precious gem. Hopefully the chaos kind but again, beggars can't be choosers. I knew I was at least capable of surviving one bite of one without passing out so I took a big bite and the flavours immediately exploded in my mouth like a symphony.

Almost instantly, a surge of energy flooded through me, and the world around me transformed- colours danced vibrantly, the sounds of nature sharpened into clarity, and the weight of my worries faded away, leaving me with pure, unadulterated focus and for a brief moment the feeling that I could conquer anything.

“Yes! I could take on an army of hungry pirates like this!” I exclaimed, exhilaration lifting my spirits as if the sun had taken flight with me.

With renewed confidence, I quickly moved to where I'd dropped the heavy ass wooden sword, feeling like a hero ready to go die for a stupid cause! Not that I would, I wasn't really hero material.

The sword on the other hand was currently waiting in the sand like a sentinel waiting for its master.

An admittedly terrible one at that!

I gripped the hilt, but it felt just as awkward and heavy as it did before inside my hands. “What are you made of- lead!? I didn’t sign up for weight lifting!” I quipped to the sword.

I remembered the burst of energy coursing through me and- I swear I am not addicted!- took another bite of the turnip.

To my lack of surprise, because putting two and two together wasn't difficult, the weight melted away, transforming the sword into an effortless extension of my arm.

“Now we're talking!” I laughed, swinging the sword as though it were a feather. As the blade sliced through the air with satisfying whooshes, and with each strike, I felt the energy surge through my muscles.

“Hashtag Swordmaster! Now I just need to dodge weird magical creatures and maybe slay a dragon or two!” I grinned to myself and fumbled on a step, the blade falling out of my grip as I landed on my backside. "...They do say pride comes before the fall." I winced.

Still, not one to take it personally, I promptly jumped back onto my feet and quickly picked up the blade once again and made a few more experimental swings and with every single one, I felt the exhilarating energy begin to fade, and I realized that power either depended on my personal fitness or was just a really short temporary boost.

“...Cool, I am gonna need a lot more turnips I think,” I mused, feeling the first hints of fatigue creeping in.

Briefly contemplating taking another bite for a few more swings, I shook the thought off and turned my gaze back towards the weapon stand. I didn't have a clue as to how the staff worked- magic-wise anyway, so bow it was!

“You, my friend, look like trouble!” I said, my eyes twinkling as I approached.

Grabbing the bow, I raised an eyebrow at how light it felt- which on it's own was probably the wrong thing to feel right? Weren't bows supposed to be heavy or something? Not giving that particular thought much more time, I let out a shrug and mimicked the motion of drawing back the string. “Seems sturdy enough,” I deadpanned as the foremost expert that I was.

Closing my eyes for a brief moment, which was probably a bad idea in actual combat, I imagined arrows soaring through the sky. And hitting seagulls. Because screw seagulls in particular.

Still other than the feeling of pulling back a string... I didn't really notice anything. Granted I didn't notice much with the actual part of swinging the sword but I at least noticed how much lighter it was.

I idly wondered if I'd feel something if I were to take another bite of that turnip- Though my mind briefly went back to the fact the last time I couldn't take more than two before I passed out.

...If nothing else it'd at least answer another question of mine.

If things were to follow a certain kind of pattern, it meant I could take up to three bites right now, which meant I was either about to pass out or the more likely scenario, physical labour nudged the amount I could eat just a tad.

But honestly, I couldn’t help myself on account of its taste being delightful and way too tempting.

And the moment I did, with the bow still in my hand, I felt a strange shift of energy course through both hands and my eyes as my view turned extremely focused for a moment- "Holy shit is this how Superman feels!?" A beat passed. "Or at least sees!?"

But at least that confirmed that physical labour boosted, or at least, cleared my body enough to indulge som-

My head hit the sand before I even finished that thought.

...

When I awoke, sunlight poured over me, warm and unyielding like a sunburn I didn’t ask for.

Blinking against the intensity, I rubbed my head where I had struck the ground. “Ugh, did I just battle an entire army and lose?” I groaned, glancing sideways at the timer. I blinked in disbelief. “How did I lounge around for twenty more hours?” I mumbled, scratching my head before dimly noting the once again completely regenerated turnip that I'd dropped over the course of stupidity. “Stupid question,” I muttered before scouring around for the other one I'd left behind.

I let out a sigh of relief when I found it.

"I really need to find a spot to hold these in..."

With that added to my bucket list of things I need to do, I turned my gaze towards the etched words again as I made my way over. They now glimmered in the unwavering sunlight, the numbers beside them pulsing faintly.

“Oh great, now they’re singing to me,” I joked. “Why does it feel like I’m in a magical retirement home?”

There were two extra words to the previous adding up to a total of ten words, or warnings, that I had no clue how to decypher!

Thankfully, nine of them had numbers beside them! The highest of which was a staggering twelve.

Ninety-one hours and all I had to show for it was a spelling bee I could never pass.

Whoo!

The sun continued on blazing overhead, promising endless time to train yet leaving me tied to this peculiar fate. “Okay, back to it,” I said, shaking my head to rid myself of the distractions.

I swallowed the urge to overthink the symbols and the magical grading system playing out in the sand, resolving to focus instead on my training. “Time to level up, turnip style!” I blinked for a moment. "Did I just call myself a vegetable?" I snorted at the question- Honestly I crack myself up sometimes! Which I kinda had to since there was no one else to freakin' talk to!

With renewed determination, I picked up the heavy sword and returned to my practice.

Each tiring swing became a powerful extension of my will, my body moving with a slug's grace and purpose! I was obviously doing this right!

Now I could just abuse the turnip but I had to at least figure out if they could heal fatigue, and how quickly. Specifically muscle fatigue. 'Cos if they can then, I might as well make the absolute most of my time here.

Still, I eyed the turnips I'd left ontop of the weapons stand with a longing for.

...

With every set of swings and period of rest, time seemed to evaporate along with my worries, each movement sharpening my instincts.

Laughter bubbled in my chest as I imagined tales of great warriors and tales of folly. “Maybe I’ll write a book called ‘How to Battle Madness with Turnips’ when this is all over,” I quipped to nobody, caught in the clutches of my own humour.

Eventually, fatigue really began to settle in, and I chose a patch of sand where I could catch my breath, my gaze tilted over towards the words and to my delight, I found two of them had had their numbers rise since the start of this session.

All around me, nature exhaled with peace, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore creating a soothing melody.

I sighed, allowing myself to sink into serenity. The sun’s unyielding gaze meant time stretched on forever, a gift- or perhaps a trick- of the island.

As the weight of exhaustion settled over me, I didn’t fight it for once and let slumber beckon while I closed my eyes, finally allowing myself to drift away.

I knew the timer registered just over a hundred now, but the notion felt distant as I let the sounds of nature slowly guide me into what I imagined was going to be the shortest sleep I'd had since I got here.

Just as I settled deeper into unconsciousness, something stirred nearby, pulling me from thoughts of dreams.

My eyelids fluttered open in curiosity to see a small, black creature floating at the water’s edge.

It resembled a cat, though it hovered just above the sand, sporting a tilted expression like it had stumbled into a soap opera.

“Hey there, little buddy,” I greeted what I had no doubt was a hallucination- Clearly I'd worked far too hard today! “Are you here to help me with all this madness or just drop in for a laugh?” The creature’s eyes sparkled with an intelligence that danced against its playful demeanour.

I felt an instinctual connection to the illusion, my brain too tired to really comprehend it. “Well, you’ve certainly got an interesting perspective!” I murmured, trying to really figure out if flying cats were real or I really was staring at a peculiar mirage.

With a mix of intrigue and warmth swirling within me, I allowed the gentle pull of sleep to beckon me back.

I'll worry about the cat tomorrow!

Whatever lay ahead, I felt confident I would face it head-on, buoyed by the magic of the island. “Just another day in the life of a turnip-eating hero,” I laughed softly to myself as I once again slipped into dreams.

...

I woke up eight hours later and distinctly noted the fact it hadn't been an illusion.

The flying cat's real and for some reason it was currently sat just behind the two turnips I'd left on the weapon's stand, a strange look in its gem-like eyes as it stared at me.

Maybe it wanted one for itself?

Who knew cats had a thing for turnips?

...

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