On The Other Side: I Quit Being Human

Layland Kleinhaus (17) suffers from hypogonadism that makes him less "manly" on top of having a girly face. He is bullied because of it, but he always remains strong ... At least, until he can't bear the betrayals and sufferings anymore. Filled with rage, indignation, and the lust for blood, he decided to end the life of his tormentors along with the bystanders before taking his own life. Alas, in the middle of his deed, a mysterious being intervenes the act by summoning him and the rest of the bastards he is killing to another world. He curses his bad luck for not being able to fulfill his revenge because of it, but much to his surprise, there is something much better than having his revenge waiting for him. "Layland... Be a Demon King." Thus, his journey of becoming the unparalleled Demon King begins. --- Those who know me are already in the know of my "condition"—minor dyslexia. So, if you find any misspell or 'wtf does this even mean' words, I hope you can pardon me from the insult, and notify me instead. --- Disclaimer: The picture in the cover is originally titled "Final Judgement," which is posted on DeviantArt by CREADFECTUS.

Frona_Gorgophone · Fantasy
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404 Chs




As I have said before, everyone was suddenly aware of my relationship with Brianna. Turns out, Brianna has a lot of fans. These guys who were beating me up were one of them.

"What does she see in this pussy? Look at him. He can't even stand his ground." Mark was one of the popular guys in my school. He was from the other class, and one of my bullies.

No one dared to defy him, as he had a fairly powerful "connection" in the school—his uncle, who was one of the biggest donors of the school. Other than that though, he was attractive and played football; everyone was cool with him.

"George, pick up the bitch. I am not satisfied yet." George was from my class. He was also one of my regular bullies, and one of Mark's loyal lapdogs.

Picking me up from the ground, he faced me toward Mark. "Listen, bitch." Mark aggressively patted my cheek. "Just stay away from her, and you'll be fine."



I saw the punch coming, but pain is still pain; my eyes teared up as I couldn't handle it. "Look at this mama's boy. He can't even handle the pain." At Mark's uttered mockery, the four lapdogs he brought with him laughed. I couldn't see his face, but I am sure he was sneering at me.

"Alright, put him down. I am satisfied." With this, George tossed me to the floor, harshly. I could only try my best to lessen the pain by falling back first. My attempt worked, and I didn't feel that much of a pain. "Remember, pussy. Break-up with her."

I could only grit my teeth in anger and humiliation. 'If only ... If only I was born without this fucking condition!' Still, I am a logical person; I don't want to let anger control my behavior. Therefore, I met Brianna the next day.

"I don't think we are suitable for each other. Let's break-up," was what I said clearly to her. I intentionally showed her the injuries on my face, just so she could know what I was hinting at.

"L-Layland ... Why did you even accept me if you didn't like me in the very first place?" She showed a genuine disappointment, and visible sadness on her face. "D-Did someone told you to breakup with me?!" She looked at me seriously.

I didn't want to dilly-dally, so I spilled everything to her. "Yes. As you see, I can't even protect myself. How can I protect you? We are not suitable for each other." It was slightly regretful for me, but I didn't want to get beaten up.

However, Brianna was different. "Layland. I don't want to be separated from you." Holding my hands with her delicate hands, she looked into my eyes with her brown eyes. "Let's go through this together!"

I was overwhelmed with emotion at her showcase of "genuinity"; I accepted her suggestion. I kept our relationship, even though it cost me to get beaten up for almost every week.

She treated me well; she made me, who didn't feel anything about her at first, really fell in love with her. It was well worth it. "I don't want to let her go," was what I thought.

Due to how busy I was on spending my time with her however, I often forgot to visit my mother. Whenever I visited her, she always asked me what happened to my bruised hand or face, and I always distracted her from the topic.

Of course, I had even, more than once, thought she was annoying because of her questions. I didn't want to answer her with, "This is because I defend my relationship—my girlfriend," but she didn't get the cue, and kept asking.

I got impatient one day, and I ended up saying that. "Dating is a two way relationship. You can't suffer because of the other side," was what she said to me.

Her logic was sound, and she had the right to say it; she had experienced the same thing, after all. But, the stupid me raged at her instead; I felt the need to defend Brianna.

She didn't say anything the entire time, but she nodded her head at every point I said. Our relationship went downhill that time, and I didn't visit her for more than a month.

In that time, Brianna asked me to do something that rarely crossed my mind.

"Landy, let's have sex."

As someone with hypogonadism, I don't have that high of a sexual drive. But for her, I nodded my head. I even bought Viagra to help in the endeavor. But when she saw my naked body for the first time, that was when I started notice something was wrong.

I couldn't tell whether it was disappointment or ridicule, but I knew where she was looking at—my genital. Due to my condition, I have a small penis and shrunk scrotum. So, it must have been a very underwhelming experience for her.

Still, we did it in the end. As for how she rated the experience, I didn't know.

Days passed, and an unpleasant rumour was circulating. It was a rumour about me having a small penis; it was unpleasant because it was true. Still, I held no suspicion over anyone.

Since the day I had sex with Brianna however, everything started to change gradually. Though she treated me the same, there was something different—the emotion she conveyed was lacking.

Of course, there was no such thing as emotion in the very first place; it was just all my imagination.

A few weeks passed, and I reconciled with my mother. I had not met her for a month and a half, and I felt bad for her. By the time I visited her however, I experienced the same thing that I had experienced four years earlier.

"Why is there a bruise on your face? Who did that to you?!" My vision went dark, and I didn't even know that I was screaming; an officer was forced to enter the room just to calm me down.

"It's alright, Lay. It happens often here. I just fell while I was taking a bath. The floor is slippery," she answered with a laugh. I didn't believe it, for I knew it wasn't caused by a bump; I am familiar with that kind of injury—she was beaten up.

Still, just for the sake of "believing" in her, I nodded my head at her explanation in the end. Time passed, and an outrageous truth was unveiled before my eyes.

Remember when I said I was dumb? Yes, this is why.

"I can't measure how small, but I can say I didn't feel anything when it entered. Hahaha!"

"Damn, you really banged with him. I thought it was merely a rumour you spread."

"So, does that mean I am rejected?"

"Nah, you can be my girlfriend. Who cares you have banged with him? I am the one who took your first time anyway."

What would you feel when you saw your girlfriend was making out with someone in front, and kept badmouthing you in the process? In my case I was so outraged, my vision went dark.

But upon hearing what actually happened, all the feelings in my heart were washed away, leaving it empty. My vision returned, then my eyes turned cold; I went home like a body without its soul.

Brianna dated me for the sake of being accepted as Mark's girlfriend; it was all just an attempt to screw me over. She was never mine in the beginning. I didn't feel hurt by her betrayal, but I was outraged by her game.

But here is the cold water: the world wasn't done screwing me over yet. The exact same night, I received a phone call from CCWF saying that my mother died due to hemorrhage. The officer said my mother had accidentally "fallen" while she had been bathing.

After seeing the bruises on her face a few days prior, why would I believe in their explanation? Still, what could I do? Sue them? Nah, things don't work that way. Any death occuring inside the prison can be easily covered up.

So the conclusion is, I couldn't do anything; I could only coop myself up in the small house my bastard of a father had left behind for days. Many things happened that tortured me mentally; I felt empty and cold ... I didn't know what to do anymore.

At least, that was until I laid my eyes on the rifle my bastard of a father had kept in his cabinet. He had been a gun maniac when he was alive; he had stored many guns inside the house. The DRD Tactical M762 7.62 NATO I was seeing was one of them.

The moment I laid my eyes on it, I just fell in love with it. What could I say? No matter how I hate him, I was his son, after all; his lunacy also runs in my blood. I picked the weapon up, and I instantly thought of school.

I didn't know what kind of smile I made that time, but I was giddy to go to school. Morning quickly came, and I was so excited about what I would I do later at school.

Putting my M762 in a guitar case, I carried it behind my back. Riding the school bus, I was smiling the entire way to school.

Layland won't stay a pussy forever, so don't mock him yet.

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