Another Pact?! Was that even possible?
"What? Can't we find another thod?" I pleaded. "Besides, I already have a Master-servant pact with Bond. And you know, one can't serve two masters at the sa ti."
Pluto scoffed. "Huh? What are you talking about?" His tone dripped with condescension, like he thought I was an idiot. "Of course you can serve more than one master at a ti—Haven't you heard of freelancers?"
Freelancers?
Was that so kind of sorcerer class?
Pluto went on. "And moreover, what you have on you isn't a Master-servant pact."
...What?
What does he an by that?
"I saw Bond set up the contract spell with my own eyes. There's no way—"
"No, it looks like a Master-servant pact, but it's actually a one-order Pact."
Really...?
A one-order Pact, as the na implied, was a Pact where only one task could be given to the servant figure.
That'd explain a lot! Like why that selfish bastard Bond didn't drown in a bunch of abusive tasks.
"And that's also the Pact we'll be having together," Pluto continued. "Thus, I'll only be able to order you around concerning one task."
Ohhhh? That seed a lot more doable!
So, although Bond had basically enchained —for the second ti in my life—into a lifeti babysitting career for his daughter, at least he couldn't just pop up one day and dump another absurd job on .
I get it.
But... why didn't he just make an actual Master-servant pact with ?
...I probably shouldn't think he's scum and a lost cause too much.
Maybe—just maybe—he didn't want to tie down completely?
"Alright, the contract spell is nearly complete," Pluto announced, and I snapped out of my thoughts to see a massive golden magic circle spreading beneath us.
Ohhhh? The difference between a Mortal and a god!
Bond's magic circle had been big, sure, but this—this was huge. Like, 150 ters wide huge.
Actually, isn't that a bit too wide?!
The Pact, however, wouldn't activate unless both parties were fully in agreent. And since we were, the golden light flared—and just like that, the Pact was complete.
Heh, I'm probably the first person walking around with two Pacts on his head.
...Ah!
There's sothing wrong again.
That weird, unsettling feeling I had right after making a Pact with Bond...
"Uhm... Pluto?"
"It's Lord Pluto to you!"
Ah, déjà vu...
I pressed on. "The Pact is only until I complete the mission of bringing down your enemy in Pison, right?"
Pluto, who was rummaging through a giant treasure chest next to his throne—Wait, hold on! That box wasn't there earlier! —turned his head and answered,
"Of course. Did you think I'd set it to 'forever' or sothing?"
Oh... Thank goodness.
Pluto continued. "I'm a good-hearted deity, after all."
"Yes. Yes, you are! I'll make a shrine for you at Pison, Lord Pluto!!"
I was really touched, honestly. I was even on the verge of tearing up.
Bond had traumatized with his life sentence, but it's a relief to know that there's still so good left in the world!
And actually, maybe it's not so bad to work for Plut—
"Yeah, you just have to defeat Cthulhu, and the Pact will be annulled."
"..."
I think I heard wrong...
Oh, wait. I'm a Fenrir with superior hearing, so I can't have heard wrong.
Which ans... I definitely heard that correctly?
No, no, no. That has to be a mistake.
Let confirm. "Hey, Pluto?"
"You're forgetting the 'Lord,' but oh, well. What is it?"
"When you say Cthulhu, do you an THAT?" I asked flatly.
Pluto closed his eyes and folded his arms, like he was preaching a divine revelation.
"Cthulhu... A being that has existed since before the creation of the heavenly piece itself. A cosmic entity of imasurable authority and dominion. One such as myself can't even hope to wrestle with her re generals, much less her herself."
Then he opened his eyes and fixed with an unreadable stare.
"Look at , Wolfie. Look at my face. She literally eats gods for breakfast. And I'm not ssing around here. Anyone who THINKS of resisting her—or even dreams about it—is about as Foolish as a Fish Eager to Swim in Magma."
...What kind of analogy is that...?
...Argh. Headache, headache.
Huh? The world is spinning.
Ah, yes. I just have to refuse the request, and all will be well.
Ah, I forgot. We already did a Pact.
I'm his agent until I defeat THE Cthulhu...
I can feel my nice, easygoing life crumbling to dust already.
Pain. Pain. Pain...
"Uh, Wolfie? Are you alright? You're shaking, though." Pluto asked, "concerned."
*
Ravenswood, you're finished.
You thought you were finished when you entered a lifelong Pact with that Scum of a human, but you were naïve.
Sigh...! I don't even know what to do about the situation. The fact that I had cald down is already concerning.
I guess my brain is tired.
We'll deal with tomorrow's problems tomorrow!
After signing the death sentence—I an, Pact—with Pluto, he brought out so equipnt for .
He called it compensation. Said there'd be more where they ca from.
But of course, I could tell he was trying to deceive .
The first equipnt: A black lightning sword, about as long as a human's arm.
"This weapon is yours from now." Pluto chirped. "And no one else can pick it up if you drop it. Cool, right?"
I eyed him skeptically. "But if you're holding it like a twig right now, I can't help but not believe you."
"W-Well, I haven't given it to you yet, have I?!"
Ohhh? So you have to give it to first?
Why does everything this guy says sound so fishy?
And now that I think about it, he occasionally reverts between casual speech and that divine, lofty tone.
...I suspect he's secretly a thug or an underworld criminal leader or sothing like that.
He brought out the second piece of equipnt—sothing I'm not going to be caught dead with.
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