After the Fall of the Demon Race, Reincarnated as a Demon Girl - Chapter 7

The Western Plains of Guangde

This vast land once belonged to the rule of the Demonkin. However, with the fall of the Demon King and the collapse of his armies, humans gradually took control, becoming its new masters. Blessed with rich pastures, the region attracted countless settlers who fenced off land to raise cattle and sheep, hoping to reap profits in the markets.

Over the past few decades, as Otherworlders flooded into the continent, the landscape underwent drastic changes—what was once an endless, unbroken grassland now hosted scattered villages, which soon gave rise to sprawling livestock farms.

A railway, stretching thousands of miles from the imperial capital of Saint Guangde to the far western reaches of the continent (the Demonkin Forest), had been laid down. Thanks to this artery of steel, industrialized farming flourished like never before.

A train, groaning under the weight of freshly logged timber, wailed its way in from the west. Now, it had come to claim the blood and sweat of the factory-farmed livestock.

Beneath the carriages, coal burned fiercely, spewing thick black smoke from the chimneys, staining the sky a dull, lingering gray.

The train ground to a halt. Dozens of workers poured out from the rear cars, heading toward the surrounding farms to load cattle and sheep. With the influx of Otherworlders into the capital in recent years, demand for meat had skyrocketed.

According to the conductor’s announcement, the train would remain here for an entire day.

The conductor swung open the cabin door and leaped onto the platform, stretching his arms wide as if embracing the sunlight. He inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp air of the plains.

“Ah, the scent of the grasslands—far better than the stench of coal in the train.”

“I don’t see much difference.”

A figure in a pale blue hood followed the conductor off the train. She pointed at the dark plumes billowing from the smokestack and spoke calmly.

“It’s no different from those coal factories up north. Soon, this place will look just like them.”

The conductor shrugged, indifferent.

“What can we do? Plenty of folks here want to change things, but they’re powerless. All I can do is enjoy a few extra breaths of fresh air while I can.”

“Besides, it’s not as bad as you think. The ‘Chosen Ones’ say things will improve eventually. This is just a necessary phase of progress.”

“Fine. Let’s change the subject.”

Seeing his passenger fall silent, the conductor assumed she was another opponent of industrial expansion and quickly steered the conversation elsewhere.

“Do you know where the best beef and lamb in this region comes from?”

The robed figure tilted her head slightly, her azure eyes settling on the village ahead and the massive farming complex behind it.

“Here?”

“Exactly!”

The conductor spread his hands, framing the horizon as if lifting the village and factories in his palms.

“This village and the three farms nearby belong to Baron Elberd.”

“These farms, along with a hundred others, form the largest livestock production hub in human territory. They supply 54% of the empire’s beef and 62% of its lamb. Without exaggeration, these farms shoulder half of the empire’s meat industry.”

“And the meat here? Unmatched. Last time I had a steak here… tsk tsk. Still dream about it.”

Leaning closer, the conductor lowered his voice and pointed toward the village’s edge.

“The train’s staying all day. If you want a taste, there’s a restaurant straight ahead—best steak around. Or so a… friend tells me.”

“Noted. I’ll check it out.”

She nodded, gave the conductor’s shoulder a light pat, and headed in the direction he’d pointed.

Only at the village entrance did the figure finally lower her hood, revealing flowing golden hair and clear, pale-blue eyes.

It was Renith.

After killing Tao Jin, she’d slipped into a timber-hauling cart and hitched a ride to the train station. Using “Divine Mimicry: Refraction,” she’d boarded without a hitch.

She’d claimed a seat by the window, alternating between studying Tao Jin’s harvested eyeballs and watching the scenery blur past.

Sometimes, you have to marvel at technology.

No magic, yet it wields power beyond most spells.

Sometimes, you have to despise what it brings.

Once, this plain teemed with wyverns and flocks of birds. Now, they were gone.

“This village… it’s too quiet.”

Her gaze swept over two parked cars—black metal boxes—and a few colorful motorcycles, all inventions from her years in slumber. Fast, apparently.

She recalled a similar two-wheeled contraption called a “bicycle.”

Renith stepped closer, inspecting the machines but failing to grasp their workings. She mentally tasked Philofor with recording them in Page 0 of the Scripture for later study.

With that done, she followed the path into the village, soon arriving at the restaurant the conductor had mentioned. A chalkboard outside listed the day’s specials in bright crayon:

“Western Grill”
Today’s Special:

• Pan-seared steak & lamb offal soup – 4 silver coins

• Free fries with every 3 orders

Below were regular menu prices.

A quick scan revealed only “fried potatoes” and “hamburgers” were affordable. No wonder the conductor could only afford occasional visits.

Through the semi-transparent glass, the interior sprawled into view—packed with locals, farmworkers, and train passengers avoiding rail fare.

The decor wasn’t to Renith’s taste. The far wall boasted mounted flintlock and smoothbore guns, flanked by a massive wyvern skull and rows of dark-brown cattle horns.

“Hmph. All genuine.”

Two centuries ago, a faction of wyverns had allied with humans against the Demonkin. Now, their heads adorned some backwater diner. How poetic.

Not that Renith cared. Wyverns were just offshoots of monsters untouched by the Demon King’s influence. After true demons and monsters vanished, they’d inherited the title—far cry from the terrors of old.

The door jingled as Renith entered. The owner, a sturdy woman with sun-weathered skin, flashed a smile from behind the counter.

“Welcome, dear! What’ll it be?”

A faint glow flickered in Renith’s eyes as mana veiled her irises.

“???
Age: 48–53
Otherworlder Probability: 60%”

Useless! She could’ve guessed that much herself.

Still, dissecting Tao Jin’s eyeballs had upgraded her “Appraisal”—now it could gauge Otherworlder likelihood.

Other breakthroughs included:

1. Enhanced Shielding – Combined with Divine Mimicry, she could now block “Appraisal” at Tao Jin’s level. Further refinements awaited.

2. Mental Fortification – Tao Jin’s “Memory Rewrite” bypassed magic and soul mechanics. In all her years, only gods could rifle through memories so effortlessly.

If the enemy is divine, fight divinity with divinity.

Conveniently, a certain little one carried a spark of godhood within.

So Renith had borrowed wisps of sacred light from Philofor, weaving them into a protective film beneath her skull.

“Ah, a fellow traveler! First time here? You’re in luck—best food around! Tell you what, I’ll give you a discount!”

The owner’s eyes lit up at the halo in Renith’s gaze.

“Fellow traveler,” huh? Confirmed.

Should I strike now?

A glance around stayed her hand. Several patrons radiated threat—train workers brimming with “Qi,” armed with firearms. And the owner, as an Otherworlder, surely had tricks of her own. This wasn’t the place for a quick kill.

“Hey! Order or get lost!”

A gruff voice barked from behind. Renith skimmed the menu.

“One beef hamburger. One medium-well steak. And water.”

She paid with six silver coins pilfered from a passenger and turned to leave, but not before casting a sidelong glance at the man who’d spoken.

He wore a blue denim jacket, skin-tight jeans cuffed above scarred calves, and scuffed boots. A rifle hung across his back, a revolver at his hip. His eyes gleamed like a hawk’s.

Otherworlder Probability: 70%

Trouble.

His presence shelved Renith’s plans. She wove through the crowded tables and took a secluded seat.

“Ah, Jiros! The usual?”

The man—Jiros—nodded.

“Coming right up!”

As the owner bustled off, Jiros tossed down a handful of coins and sat at the next table over. The two waited in silence.

Ten minutes later, the owner delivered their orders: two steaks, a burger, and water for each.

“Enjoy~”

Renith picked up her fork, then froze.

Jiros’s steak oozed red. Her stomach lurched.

Then her “Appraisal” flared unbidden.

Her lips parted—then clamped shut. The fork clinked against the plate.

Her appetite was gone.