Dark Lord and I Committed Tax Evasion. Now We Mug Gnomes to Survive.

To meet the Dark Lord in a thrift shop, one must have zero luck.

Peter didn't understand why exactly the Dark Lord was shopping in a thrift store, but he understood that this thrift shop was the only place he could afford to buy his clothes at because, as things stood, slime killing was simply not very profitable.

Peter was just a young transmigrator who had come into this world a month ago and because he wasn't very knowledgeable about it, was earning his keep with killing slimes.

And that with a branch, a branch he had taken from a tree. A nearly dead one.

So, Peter really should have known, back then, as he took the branch from the base of the almost dead tree, that maybe, just maybe, he could go into food delivery or accounting or, better yet, tax evasion, to earn his daily bread.

But he didn't go into tax evasion or accounting or any of the other things, no, he chose to be a hero. A hero who had to buy his armor at the thrift shop.

 "Oh, they have the new collection," Peter didn't know why the Dark Lord was even speaking to him. As things stood, Peter was so far away from being an enemy to the Dark Lord that it wasn't even funny.

Not for lack of want, but because Peter simply didn't have much power to his name.

"You come here often?"

Peter played with the idea of telling the Dark Lord that yes, he came very often because slimes were acidic and a slime could dissolve a piece of armor in under 5 minutes. But he didn't say that. He just smiled.

Because answering someone with a smile was better than flipping them the bird.

 The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. This was just a wannabe hero. The boy probably wouldn't even last a month, and even if he did last a month, there's no way, no way in hell, for the boy to be able to kill a dragon or even a pack of goblins.

Maybe a horde of hamsters, yes, Asmodeos could give the boy that much. But hamsters weren't a very popular choice when it came to the destruction of the world.

The universe didn't use them often. And when it did, they ended up being enslaved and carted off to the nearest pet store.

Their fate sealed.

"I asked you a question," Peter wanted, very much so, to tell the Dark Lord that no, he didn't very care about staying in this world, that the man could pint him back to his reality.

 A reality in which he was going to do his job for his paycheck that came every month, but was never enough, was actually a very good alternative to speaking with the Dark Lord.

And yet, Peter didn't do that.

 Peter simply smiled once more.

 The Dark Lord blinked. He could say that this human was very strange, or maybe he was mute, one of those things, he wasn't very sure.

The Dark Lord just took one robe, a robe which he was pretty sure came from another Dark Lord, who was rich and could afford to get a new robe every week.

He went to the dressing room, decided that if the hero didn't want to speak to him, that was fine. They were natural enemies. No, not even natural enemies.

Natural frenemies.

The Dark Lord got out of the changing room in his new robe, looked at the adventurer who also had second hand armor, and he thought to himself, that, well, life was hard.

Life was hard, and both of them didn't have much money. The world expected a lot of them, but didn't want to pay them. The Dark Lord hummed; the adventurers coughed.

And so, both of them made one step towards one another.

"I offer you a deal, young adventurer. Will you work with me? For the betterment of the world? For eternal glory?" The Dark Lord, Asmodeos said. He could afford to hire this adventurer.

He wasn't very sure if the adventurer was going to accept to be hired by him, though. And not only that, if the adventurer actually wanted to party with someone, who, deep in his heart, wanted to take over the world.

 "I can pay you 5 gold coins per month," he said, trying to make the deal enticing, despite the fact that they were both in the middle of a thrift store.

 Now, most adventurers would say no to a Dark Lord. It was practically in the adventurer's handbook.

But Peter was not like all the other adventurers. Peter was poor. Peter survived off a loaf of bread per day. And Peter didn't have a place to sleep in.

 "Throw in a room in your castle, and I'm in," Peter knew that he was making a hard bargain, but did not want to back down.

 "I have to buy my robes from a thrift store. Do you honestly believe I have a castle?" Was the Dark Lord's counter.

Both look at one another. Looked at the clothes they were wearing. Then at the people around them.

No. Peter did not believe that.

 The world had great things in store for them, yes. But that didn't mean that they were going to have a good time while climbing the mountain of survival.

And so, both of them reached out and shook each other's hand.

 "Five coins is a very good deal," Peter said. He wasn't actively looking for a job, but if he had to be honest, a quest done with the Dark Lord could probably pay a lot more than his usual slime hunting gig.

"Yeah, well, that's pretty much half of my allowance," Asmodeos sighted, looking out of the window.

 He could see the hot dog stand from where he got his lunch from. He nodded to Peter.

 "Are you hungry?"

 Peter nodded. He was always hungry. He never got enough to eat. And he honestly wanted a hot dog. Just because it was warm.

 Not because he actually wanted the sausage inside, which, and he was pretty much sure this was a fact kept hidden from the general public, was made out of goblin meat.

Unappetizing, stinking, goblin meat. Hot dog stands in this world were supplied by adventurers. And adventurers loved to hunt goblins.

The meat could not be allowed to go to waste.

And so, their journey began. A journey which started in a thrift store. A journey which lasted a decade.

A journey which turned the world they lived in into a mess.