Demon Incorporated, as the name suggested, was one of the largest powers in the entire demon world. They controlled most of mass media, food products, and the artifact industry. The company had magic-righted the word “demon” itself, so when it announced the beginning of a Species Tournament, nobody batted an eye.

An entire planet was annexed and repeatedly remodeled through magic to create the various stages of the tournament. High ranking experts in illusions and body manipulation were employed to bring everything to life. It was an extremely costly venture but held the promise of being their most profitable one yet.

Unfortunately, demons were fickle and would always find something to complain about. This century’s problems were a bit worse, but they was nothing Executive Vagalan couldn’t handle. He was a man of great power and even greater appetite. Despite his horns being smaller than a toddler’s pinky, he had managed to win his position by disposing of his predecessor.

Now, in his purple suit that was even shinier than Amon’s, the man was enjoying their species’ version of poetry.

“My Lord?” the demon host announced his presence. They were in a large chamber similar to a theater. Rows upon rows of iron chairs were lined up to the back of the demons, and a large stone stage was in front of them.

“Shut it,” said Vagalan. In front of them, the company’s number one idol, Shira Tamar, was recording her latest verses. To prevent interruptions, an invisible barrier prevented sounds from reaching her. However, the two demons could still hear her malicious curses, the rhyming slurs, and the screams of the imp she occasionally lashed. These verses could make a grown human hide under his bed, but to their ears, it was art.

“Ahem.” Slightly pink in his voluptuous cheeks, Vagalan finally turned around after the woman finished her performance. “How many contestants are still alive?” he asked while watching Shira with the corner of his eye.

“100 000, My Lord.”

“Say that again?”

“100 000.”

Suddenly, the demon equivalent of blood drained out of Vagalan’s cheeks and his face turned into scowl.

“The round has barely started! Who is the imbecile responsible for this!?”

After kneeling down and keeping his eyes glued to the floor, Amon carefully selected his words.

“My Lord, the second round did start as planned.”

As was tradition, they had separated the contestants into identical areas (channels) where tiny groups could fight to the death. The audience could follow each contestant through the invisible cameras following them. They could even interact with those who climbed the world tree and "root" for their favorites.

There was just one problem with this century’s arrangement. The stage was so difficult that most people died before the fighting could even begin. The goal was to kill the competition on the other islands, and then use their crystals to summon more of your own species. It was a chance to eliminate enemies while protecting your own. However, most contestants didn’t even reach the World Tree, and those who did wouldn’t dare leave it.

“It’s just that, the contestants didn’t live up to our expectations,” said Amon.

“Who designed this stage!?” growled the executive.

“I do not know, My Lord.” It was actually Vagalan himself who came up with the idea, but admitting it was the same thing as handing in his resignation.

“Is there a problem?” Having finished her torture... recording session, Shira Tamar decided to join them. The woman was truly a gift from hell: A pink succubus with huge antlers that were even bigger than her chest. Shira's skin matched marvelously with her purple dress, and her thin tail occasionally curled around her waist like a whip that constantly punished her.

“Nothing you need to worry about, my dear,” said Vagalan while giving her his seat. “Amon here was just about to tell us how we’ll deal with the latest… situation.”

Unbeknownst to him, the host was now kneeling in front of Shira, with Vagalan leering behind her while massaging her shoulders.

“Yes, My Lord. The reduction in live-stream channels can be countered by putting more focus on the remaining contestants. The problem with the elves’ number superiority will be dealt with in the following round.

As for that human’s little rebellion… I believe we can take advantage of it. Above all else, he desires the freedom of his other self and to return to his planet. This means we do not have to waste money on physical rewards.”

“That would be preposterous,” Vagalan spit over Shira’s antlers.

“Of course. Nothing of the sort has happened in a millennium, and we will not start now. However, if we taunt the human with the promise of salvation, we can capitalize on his already booming channel. We will make him a superstar, so when he falls…”

Amon grinned leaving his words hanging. His eyes were still towards the ground though. Some things couldn't be changed.

“What if he doesn’t die?” asked Shira while tilting her antlers.

“Even better,” chuckled the demon. “We’re currently missing a hero, aren’t we?”