Self-Summon [Demon Summoning/Evolution LitRPG]

“I’m ready!” Gawk didn’t waste a breath, apparently open to jumping into the Cult trial without knowing anything about it.

“I have time for it, if that’s what you mean.” Gelic was more cautious. “But I’d at least like to know what we’re doing for it before agreeing to anything. And I’d also like to know what happens if I pass the trial but still decide not to join after reading the Pact? Do I walk away empty handed despite completing it?”

“Hmm, you’re the first to ever ask.” Ba Skin shrugged. “But what I have in mind could fall under direct work worthy of equivocal payment. So I’ll provide a hundred Essence each if you pass the trial, regardless of whether or not you decide to join afterward. Does that sound fair?”

“Uhh, any chance we could make it two hundred?” she requested. “That’s how much I need for my next level.” With that, even if she chose not to join, this would have been worth her time.

“You can have mine, Gelic!” her friend offered. She wanted to refuse, but he was insistent. “As thanks for coming with me today!”

“Now that’s what I like to see.” Apparently Gawk’s willingness touched the Daemon in some way. “And I’ll tell you what. If you pass the trial, but Gelic still doesn’t wish to join, I will allow Gawk to enlist regardless, and he will still receive the referral bonus. As for the trial itself, it is actually quite simple in nature, to the degree I couldn’t justify offering more. However, it still won’t be as simple as you might think.

“Here shortly, I will need to leave for a Legion Heirs’ meeting at Morgo Gorgo’s manor. Today, it is my turn to host, which besides ensuring the docket is followed, means it falls on me to provide the after-meeting meal. The order is already placed at the restaurant. It just needs to be picked up and delivered. Having the two of you take care of that for me would allow me more time to prepare for the meeting otherwise, time that this meeting with the two of you frankly should have been for. But I will always put my Legion and those who may join it first.

“This may sound absurdly easy, but all I will tell you is the name of the restaurant. From there it is up to you to find your way, convince them that you are there for the order, then also deliver it to the manor, which I will also not tell you the location of, within a reasonable timeframe. This will test your resourcefulness without guidance, something anyone should be able to do, but many lack the basic competencies to see it through.”

Angelica felt like she was being stabbed a bit by a targeted attack, since this was a plague on her social anxieties. Asking strangers for directions? Ughk! She would rather try just about anything else. Maybe there was some sort of local map, or they could use the river again to take them most of the way and then scout from there.

“I suspect there will be more surprises in store that you won’t anticipate. Adapt and overcome them without giving up or taking too long to pass the trial. I can do my best to extend the meeting for as long as I can, but even I won’t be able to corral hungry Demons for too long. And if you fail, I’ll take my share of the blame, of course, but I’ll be sure to let them know the ones really responsible. I don’t think you’d be very welcome to try another attempt at joining the Cult in the future. Perhaps a bit harsh for Pucks. But if you’re so eager to join a society comprised of mostly upper Ranks, you should be expected to be held at the same standard. Any questions or objections?”

“That sounds fair.” Gelic spoke up first this time.

And Gawk only had one question in mind. “So what’s the restaurant?”

“I’ll tell you once the trial begins,” the Heir answered. “But first, we’ll do a separate Pact specifically for this mission, so you can ensure that you won’t be cheated. And that will be the official start.”

[Pact proposed. Do you accept?]

[Terms: The two of you will deliver the specific order of food to Morgo Gorgo’s manor before the Demons get too hungry | Length: 2 hours (approx) | Punishment: Cult Trial Failure | Reward: 200 Essence for Gelic and Cult Trial Passed | Subjected: Gawk, Gelic | Stakeholders: Ba Skin]

“The restaurant is called Laced,” Ba told them as soon as both accepted. “I suggest you hurry to it before they hit the lunch rush. Hopefully, I’ll see you at the manor. If not, then I doubt we will meet again anytime soon. You may depart now.” He gestured toward the door.

As soon as they exited, Crectal jumped down from her spying perch up on the table, as if she was going to interrogate them about what had transpired, but Gawk beat her to the punch. “Hey, do you know where Laced is?”

“Oh, sure it’s—” Wow, that actually worked, and the Ghoul snitch quickly spilled the details. Since she probably couldn’t read lips or sound vibrations or whatever, she likely didn’t know what the trial entailed. And Ba Skin who stood at the door, only glared at her for giving the game away so easily. But leave it to Gawk, friendly paragon that he was, to take care of the social aspect like it was nothing.

Maybe she didn’t have to worry too much then. This was a test for both of them after all, so they could rely on each other’s strengths. Going off what Ba had said, this sort of cooperation was just what they were looking for, so she shouldn’t feel bad about relying on it either. That didn’t mean she could slack, however, and needed to do her best when Gawk was the one in need.

Finding the restaurant really didn’t take long after that, just a few minutes. It was just around the river bend, and they were able to cross the glowing green water with their wings, saving them the trouble of finding a bridge or summoning one of the leaves just to ferry them. Laced was a restaurant that was built in the interior of a giant shell, from some kind of snail or other mollusk. The sign above the entrance was actually written out in a lacey material, but it also had fake purple liquid acting like it was about to drip off the bottom. They must be leaning into the dual meaning of laced and served poisoned food.

“What do you mean you won’t let me-ow in?!” Gelic’s thought was interrupted by a patron just outside the restaurant. Thankfully, it looked like the lunch rush hadn’t hit yet, with only one other potential customer ahead of them. And by the sounds of it, they wouldn’t be staying for long. Which… kind of a pity from Angelica’s perspective, because… they were a cat?!

Nothing demonic about them. They were a cat through and through with only a few differences from the norm. First, that they were standing on two legs, and they had quite a bit of a chubbier physique than a normal cat would. Maybe it would be better to compare them to a stuffed animal or a cartoony cat. And their coat was so unique, almost like that of a white tiger, though with more uniform stripes running along their backside. Ah, she wanted to snuggle it, but that would assumedly be some taboo, not to mention she’d be cheating on Cherub.

“I am Mampf, new Gremlin of the Baddon Cult!” Aww, her voice was so cute too. Definitely a girl kitty by the sound of it. “And you still say you’re going to turn me-ow away?! Let me-ow in…!” Just then, the body of the cat was gone, as if it was sucked into their head, which then grew and grew and grew, until it was almost ten times the size, basically just a giant sentient cat head with crazed eyes and greedy drooling ravenous grin comprising most of her form that made Gelic’s Puffball mouth look miniscule by comparison. “And feed me!”

Yep, all cuteness gone. Even her voice had become deep and twisted. The cat had become something out of a nightmare. Sadly, it kind of lined up with what she knew about Gremlins. They looked small and harmless, but hid their wicked thoughts, and apparently alternate forms if they had one.

“It’s because you’re part of that wretched Cult that you’re not allowed in,” the host of the restaurant, a tall humanoid uhh, hen basilisk thing, explained calmly. She looked very used to dealing with unruly guests. “Any of you barbarous gluttons are outright banned from entering. We can’t have you disturbing the other diners with your unsightly eating. However, you are allowed to order takeout. That, or I’ll call the Zebub Cult to have you removed. We are under their protection, after all.”

Mampf let out a bit of a hiss but then reverted back to their cute cuddly form. “Erm-raow. Takeout is fine. Me-ownu please.” The host handed the cat a thin slate slab with words inscribed, which the Gremlin took and wandered off to the side to get out of their way.

Gelic was honestly a bit hesitant to approach after that, imagining the mood of the host would be a bit sour after that altercation. Gawk had no such hesitance, however, and she had to hurry to keep up with him. “Welcome to Laced!” They were greeted with such enthusiasm that it was like the rough exchange never happened. Clearly a consummate professional. “Will you be dining in?”

“Actually, we’re here to pick up a takeout order,” Gelic explained, repeating the line perfectly as she’d rehearsed it in her head endlessly on their trip over. “For the Zebub Cult, under the name Ba Skin.” She figured it was probably best if she handled this instead of Gawk. His overzealousness might just make them look too suspicious. And Angelica had become an expert on getting in and out of restaurants with her food while exchanging as few words as possible.

The host eyed her suspiciously, likely scrying her. “You don’t have a Cult tag.”

“We’re not in the Cult yet, but hopefully someday. Ba Skin asked us to pick up the food for him as a side job. Feel free to double check with him.” She decided it best to not mention that they were doing an official Cult Trial, because them being Pucks in that case would almost certainly raise even more suspicion, and just in case this host was the type who’d want to mess with them or their trial for her own amusement.

“Wait here a moment, I will check.” The bird basilisk absconded into the restaurant for just a moment, spoke to another Demon, and was back within moments. “Everything checks out. Your order is not ready yet, but you may wait by the counter, and you can ask the chef for some complimentary drinks if you like since you are friends of the Zebub Cult.”

“Great going, Gelic!” Gawk praised her after they entered. “You handled that way smoother than I could have. She probably would have tried to shoo me away. But now I’ll take care of the next part. You go wait for the food, and I’ll try to chat with some of the diners and see if I can find out where the manor is.”

Gelic felt a bit of pride in seeing that he was starting to understand their various strengths, and she definitely wouldn’t complain. Bothering random strangers for directions or other help was one thing. Bothering random strangers who were just trying to peacefully eat their meal was a whole higher tier of extroversion that she couldn’t even comprehend.

So she wandered over to the counter, doing her best to look as inconspicuous as possible. She quickly spotted the chef in question cooking at the counter who’d likely be who she was supposed to ask for a drink, but they looked super busy, so no way was she going to intrude either, even with the offer made. And watching them work, damn, it was impressive.

This was the kind of restaurant where the kitchen faced the dining room, so all the customers could watch the kitchen staff work. But most of the cooking was clearly just being done by this one Demon. A few others were running around. Maybe she could ask one of them for a drink, but they looked pretty engrossed, too. And they also weren’t looking at her, nor getting too close to the counter. Instead, they were grabbing the prepared food and dropping off prepped ingredients, ready to be cooked. The head chef was a machine, doing so many things at one. Actually, specifically eight things, because that's how many limbs they were using.

The best way she could describe them was a squid Demon standing fully vertically. Ten tentacles were in play, two used to stay upright, while the rest worked themselves to the bone… erm… cartilage? Their head wasn’t quite like a squid, though, or it sort of was, but maybe dehydrated? Up above their eyes was a long thin stalk, leading up to a much wider cap, like a mushroom, or could even possibly be a chef’s hat. However, what made up that cap looked undeniably like their brains.

Gelic caught herself staring at the chef’s weird head, so she looked for a way to distract herself. Ah, good timing. Well, maybe it was, or maybe it wasn’t. But Ba Skin had sent the Cult Pact for her to read through. He could have sent it to her a while ago, and the DGS was just informing her now that there was a lull, so it was hard to really speak on the timeliness. As he warned, it was pretty wordy, but not nearly as long as anything she saw in human terms and conditions. So really, it didn’t take her long at all to get through, and the specifics were annoyingly reasonable. She was running out of reasons to refuse.

But she did her due diligence and read through the whole thing twice, and was considering a third time, but that would simply be too boring to bear, even with an Order to keep her focused. So she instead picked up one of the menus that was laying nearby. With every passing second, the aroma of the area targeted her empty stomach more and more. Damn, it smelled good, and she regretted skipping breakfast. Sadly, she hadn’t been to the store yet to load up on snacks she could keep in Second Stomach for just such an occasion. So maybe she’d order something if they had the time.

Woof, or not. She winced at the prices. The only things under a hundred Essence on the menu, and by just a hair, were appetizers. If she was gonna pay that much, it’d better be a damn full course meal. She was quickly socially classed out of this place, but still read through regardless, trying to make a game out of guessing what any of it was.

Sadly, Tongues didn’t do much for translating things that shared little-to-no commonality with her world, just producing incohesive gibberish in her language using words that were assumedly kind of close. The heck are spicy fungal dreams? And that was honestly the most sensible of them. She’d want a picture equivalent, but after her last experience with Hell cuisine, that likely wouldn’t tell her much either, or could even put her off. Interestingly, some of the items had little vials next to their description, with various amounts of liquid in them. The amount of poison, perhaps? And they came in an array of different colors.

On the back of the menu was actually a painted picture of the head chef, along with a bit of a biography. His name was Succor, a bit weird since he served poison, and had various acclaims as the best poison cook in Hell. Ah, she wanted to try it. Maybe when she was Essence rich. And she kind of wanted to learn from him too. He must have the Poison Chef Skill, and had somehow built a whole career off of it. Maybe it wasn’t an outright detriment if it was actually planned for by a Demon with the proper resources. She honestly had a bunch of questions she wanted to ask, but definitely wasn’t gonna bother him, especially while he was wildly flinging knives around with his tentacles.

One thing that was bothering her, though, watching the amount of food being prepared that wasn’t being served out to the diners. Over on another counter, meals were being crated in metal containers and bundled together, quickly becoming a massive pile. Then the reality hit her. There were probably a lot of hungry Demons at this meeting.

Gelic quickly found her way over to Gawk who was sitting at a table with some other customers, happily chatting with them as if he was part of their group. His powers of friendliness really were quite impressive, but she still pulled him aside. “Hey, there’s a lot more food than I expected. So I’m gonna have to go make some preparations. Back in a few minutes, promise.”

Return.