You're the One I Want

My heart nearly fell out of my chest as I scrambled upright, realizing just how screwed I was.

I felt around my scroungy clothes for the contract that god gave me. Relief flooded through me when it crumpled under my panicked fingers.

Time to take in my surroundings.

The "cot" I was lying on barely qualified as a bed—more burlap than mattress, just threadbare linens stacked together. I tossed them off and swung my legs down...

Only for my feet to dangle awkwardly above the ground.

My brain short-circuited. Were my legs gone?!

I wiggled my toes and immediately felt stupid. Right. Malmagos did say this was an orphanage. What was it with isekai gods and reincarnating adults into kid/teen bodies again?

Though calling this place an orphanage felt generous. It looked more like a barn. 

No magical heating, no torches, no runes... nothing. Rather stingy on money, no?

Wait, if I was a kid, how the hell was I supposed to fight a violent demigod like this?!

I wandered forward with my arms wrapped around my waist for warmth. All around me were sleeping bodies—kids of varying ages sprawled on threadbare cots, some barely clinging to thin sheets.

Then I saw what made my throat seize.

There were also corpses. Adult ones, sprawled on the ground.

The urge to vomit hit me hard. If someone—something—could do this to grown men, what chance did I have?

“Hurt on my mind… all the time… Hurt on my mind… all the time.”

I froze. My eyes snapped above me, toward the horror.

The moonlight barely reached the figure perched on the far barn railing. A regal body fit for a twisted goddess, just like her mother.

Malmitres.

“My mind,” she whispered, “is a scrambled egg.”

Then she giggled—and giggled—and twisted in mid-air like a ballerina.

“Would you help me cook it? Till it’s nice and fluffy?”

“What… what happened to those men?” I choked.

As she floated toward me, some sunlight caught her smile. It helped me see her serrated teeth. 

“They were nothing but flies,” she said. “Tiny, trembling things. Buzzing for their noble cause… heroes in their own deluded heads.”

She crouched beside a body, brushing its hair with tenderness.

“Freedom fighters, they called themselves. Martyrs, even. But tell me—what is freedom if bought with stolen blood?”

She stood, eyes glowing faintly.

“They came for children. For future weapons. And they may have succeeded…” Her fingers trailed along her own cheek, tracing a recent scar like a lover’s caress. “…if not for this admittedly weak vessel.”

She turned to me, head cocked, smile gone. “Do you grieve for them? Or do you simply mourn the illusion of control?”

Freedom fighters?

…And she did this to them alone?!

I had seconds—maybe less—before she decided those kids around me were next.

There was only one name that could pierce through this madness. It may have been bad to reveal my cards so early but I needed to say something before this got out of hand!

“…Malmitres?”

“What.”

The air thickened into molasses. Pressure bloomed behind my eyes. 

I seemed to have touched a nerve and didn’t consider my other party’s feelings beforehand. Rookie business mistake.

SLAM.

My body ragdolled into the wall behind me like a puppet yanked by the spine. 

The wood behind me cracked. My vision blurred as I deliriously noticed that I still hung in the air.

She floated toward me.

“WHO TOLD YOU OF THAT NAME?!”

Her pitch-black hair hung in wild tangles that nearly devouring her face. But through the gaps, I caught sight of her eyes...

And immediately wished I hadn't.

"If you won't tell me," she hissed, "I'll simply extract it from you."

They were endless black voids with crimson embers burning at their centers, drawing me deeper, pulling at something inside my skull. And it felt like... like they were drawing… me… in.

Gasping, I reached under my burlap shirt with what little strength I had—

—and pulled out Malmagos’ contract.

The girl—no, the monster—screamed as the contract flared and came to life.

A sunburst of gold erupted across the room. A high-pitched whine like metal being scored filled the air. 

All of a sudden, gravity vanished. Her powers had faded!

Oomph!

Luckily, the floor was covered in hay for me to fall into.

I staggered upright soon enough. Everything ached, but I still had my full range of motion. No way I could’ve tanked that kind of impact on my old body.

The same couldn’t be said for her.

Her limbs jerked unnaturally. She staggered forward, bare feet dragging across the floorboards like she was fighting every step.

Each step I took toward the center of the room made her twitch, made her snarl.

The magical contract responded before she could. A pulse of magic surged outward—and with a growl torn from the pit of her throat, Malmitres’ body slumped to the floor, legs folding under her.

Golden chains had erupted from the air and locked her in place.

I grabbed the nearest object—a rickety stool—and slammed it underneath the scroll to anchor it.

Got you now!

Seeming to acknowledge what I was trying to do, it conjured a golden quill for me to write. I took it.

Unfortunately, the convenience didn’t last when I looked up to see what I was working with.

Blank.

The contract was completely empty. There wasn’t a single clause or template in sight.

I had to write the contract that could bind her from scratch?!

I didn’t have that kind of time! Malmitres could break free any second!

Behind me, I heard shifting and gasps, alongside deep and wet coughs.

We must’ve woken the kids. Great! Even more pressure.

“Cotter?” someone called out. That must’ve been my name in this new world.

Then came the sobbing. “W-what’s going on? Daisy?!”

We had a full audience now. And all of them sounded too weak to stand, let alone run if things went south.

“It’s going to be fine!” I shouted.

I turned back to ‘Daisy’, who was baring her fangs. “They were owed. Every heartbeat, every trembling breath—mine to collect. My birthright!”

That turned the sobs into wailing. I didn’t know them, but keeping them safe was all that mattered right now.

So what do I have to work with? From her tone, she was definitely nobility in at least one of her lives. That explained the entitlement. Maybe I could work with that.

I locked eyes with her and squared my shoulders. “As you said, you have to earn your birthright.”

The demon snarled. “You dare bind me?!”

I didn’t flinch.

You couldn’t—not in high-stakes stakeholder meetings. Flinch, and you’re on the back foot, negotiating a worse deal.

Why should this be any different?

“Believe me, I’m not here by choice either,” I said evenly. “I am here because your mother says you aren’t ready yet.”

That was a mistake.

“I BEG YOUR PARDON?!”

The walls shuddered. Dust rained from the rafters. Around me, the kids began crying again—even the ones who had gone quiet.

But I held the line. It was honestly a rush for someone so small to rile up someone magnitudes more powerful than what I felt.

“She’s wrong,” Malmitres growled. “I delivered her souls. Whole kingdoms fell to my name. I fed her divinity! And still it’s not enough?”

“Then prove it,” I said. “That’s what this contract is. Proof that you are in control of your instincts rather than the other way around. Proof you can outwit me! You’ve been alive for centuries, right? This should be a bump in the road for you.”

I held the scroll forward, the contract glowing in my hands like a slow-burning fuse. “You don’t have to accept it, it’s true. You could simply kill us and be done with it. But who knows what your mother will do then…”

Her nostrils flared. Her claws flexed. Her pride screamed to strike me down. But… something held her back.

“A test. Another test,” she spat bitterly. “All she ever gives me are hoops to jump through.”

Her gaze drilled into mine.

“You know what, fine." There was barely veiled contempt. “I’ll humor you.”

Yes!

She may be scary... but this wasn’t the first time I’d been cornered by something stronger, louder, and convinced it held all the cards.

Back at the firm, I’d watched managers lie through gritted teeth and pitch disasters as “strategic pivots.” I knew that tone, the same tone she had—desperation, cloaked in pride.

This isn’t my first time cornered by liars with power. At least she didn’t wear a god-awful suit.

I just had to keep my voice steady and treat her like a hostile client, not a feral demigod!