Demon Lord's Reincarnation

Some of the easier ways to make a new entrance that came to mind were to sacrifice a truck by ramming it at the external wall connecting to this particular area, get through sussily by using the vent system, blowing up a portion of the wall that’s non-load bearing, or in the same realm with using explosives, just blow the existing door altogether.

In any case, a sledgehammer to the wall also came to mind but before we could enact upon our barbaric methods, we finally heard a reply.

“P-Please prove that you’re real!” A gentle, womanly voice resounded.

‘Real?’

“Huh—”

“GET BACK HERE, REGINE! WE DON’T EVEN KNOW IF THE EXPLOSIONS WE HEARD WERE REAL!”

“The ground was shaking, George! How can they imitate that!?”

‘What are they talking about— Oh… That’s— Huh.’

I replied in calm tone, “We’re pretty much real, alright? If you’re talking about the ones that could copy voices… I personally haven’t encountered a lot of them but their voice lines are pretty limited, no?”

“That’s…”

“WE’RE IN A BUSY AIRPORT FILLED WITH TOURISTS! WE COULD HEAR PRETTY MUCH ANYTHING—”

“Then what do you want me to say— or hear?! Something you can’t hear in an airport?!”

“THAT WOULD BE NICE—”

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“…”

“HOW’S THAT, GEORGE?!”

“I… I think he checks out… But…”

“Want me to send something in written format?!”

“W-Would be nice—”

“You— I’m so gonna fucking smack your head once you open this door for me…”

“P-Please… It’s just… It’s just for our safety… You can’t believe—”

“Yeah, yeah… Give me the sob story later…”

With that said, I easily found a pen and fucking piece of paper to write on, but I drew the most graphic furry fanart I could with the space available while writing, “FUCK YOU, GEORGE!” at the bottom.

Ignoring the looks of the Marines present and my group, I slid the paper on the gap between the door and flooring, and it didn’t take long before we heard them moving away all the barricades they placed on the sole entrance.

“W-WE’RE OPENING THE DOOR!”

“I HEARD YA! BUT NO SUDDEN MOVEMENTS, ALRIGHT?!”

“Huh?!”

“WHAT IF YOU FUCKS WE’RE THE ONES IMITATING VOICES?!”

“WHA— YOU JUST TALKED TO US!”

“THAT’S NO PROOF!”

“BUT THE PAPER!”

“STILL NO PROOF! I JUST SENT YOU ONE, NOT RECEIVE IT!”

“W-WHAT IF I SLID IT BACK?!”

“WHAT IF YOU FUCKS JUST LEARNED TO DO THAT?!”

“THEN WHAT DO WE DO THEN, YOU PSYCHO?!”

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING, GEORGE?! I JUST SAID NO SUDDEN MOVEMENTS!”

“…”

“Did you learn to be fucking quiet too or—”

“J-JUST DON’T HURT US, ALRIGHT?! I’M COMING OUT FIRST!”

“C’mon, George, I won’t judge whatever orientation you are—”

“I MEAN COMING OUT LITERALLY! WE’RE TALKING ABOUT OPENING THE DOORS, ALRIGHT?!”

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“WHAT IS IT NOW?!”

“I’m telling you now that once you come out, we’ll detain you and check you for injuries or god forbid, bites, before moving on to the next person. I hope that not only you understand that because it’s for the safety of not just us but your own people so do bear with a bit of frisk before we offer you all a warm meal.

Because if not, we’ll be forced to use the same violent means we used to clear this whole airport if we so much see a little bit of aggression from any of you. Is that okay?”

“Y-Yeah… That’s completely fine.”

“You don’t need to answer that fast. Discuss it among your group first. Do know that we have women who can also do the same checks if they’re worried about guys going too far—which we won’t, I promise you—but take it as a measure of trust and respect between us.”

“That’s— A-Alright…”

Our “talks” with this other group seemed to be going well, especially from the approving look Major Harper and everyone else who wasn’t familiar with how I was were giving me, but after some time, we eventually heard a knock from the other side:

“We’ve talked.”

“And?”

“They all agreed. I’m coming out first, is that okay?”

“Yeah. We’ll do it one at a time.”

“H-Here I go…”

With that said, we heard the final barrier of the door between us which was its locks, obviously, but we soon saw it open inward, ever so slightly. After that, a man in his 40s who looked like fucking shit and had been through the wringer slowly came out and almost jumped back from the number of guns pointed at him.

“W-Woah— I-I’m oh God… Oh God— We’re saved! R-Regine! T-Tell the kids to come out next— A-After all these… *sniffles* W-What do I do now?” He asked as he looked at me with tears in his eyes.

“George, right?”

“Y-Yes— Y-You were the one I was talking to e-earlier?”

“Yeah. Name’s Sky.”

“Y-You’re a kid— I mean, you look so young—”

“I get that a lot, unfortunately. But yeah… George, what I’m gonna need you to do now is to get on your knees and put your hands behind your back so we can detain you and check your body for anything as I’ve said earlier.”

“Y-Yes… Yes… A-Anything…”

Easily enough, this George fella complied with our demands and one of our soldiers put some zip-ties on his wrists before he started to check him of anything.

And since George was our first participant, we made sure to show the whole process to his group—because we did all this in front of the slightly ajar door—who looked like they were stuck in the same place for quite a while were still suspiciously eyeing everyone else from a safe distance.

Of course, there was a horrid stench coming from George and especially the storeroom they came from, but that just meant that their water was used for drinking, nothing less.