"Why not?" William said casually. "These idiots were about to sacrifice a girl to a demon. They're hell-bound no matter what. Giving them to you early is just part of the deal.
Besides…" William narrowed his eyes, voice laced with implication, "Victor left you behind for me on purpose. Doesn't that make you curious?"
Faced with two choices—instant soul annihilation or devouring four human souls and being banished back to Hell with a chance of survival—the demon didn't even need to think.
Selfish to the core, as all demons are, he instantly agreed. And from the look in his beady black eyes, he was already planning to sell his master out.
"I… I came back to the material world under orders from Prince Benar Darius," the demon blurted out. "Along with Jason and Freddy, we were sent here to collect souls for Benar. The vampire yesterday—he came to collect the souls I've harvested over the past ten years."
"Go on," William coaxed, his tone deceptively light. "If your intel pleases me, maybe I'll start tossing you evil souls on the regular."
Hearing that, the demon's soul visibly quivered with joy—until reality slapped him back.
"But I'm being sent back to Hell. H-how are you going to deliver them?"
William retracted his helmet with a smirk—only for the demon to let out a piercing scream.
"By Satan's flames—you're the human who destroyed the demon god Set!"
BOOM!
The demon spontaneously combusted, bursting into black hellfire in an attempt to flee. It didn't even care about the four souls it had drooled over moments before.
HUMMMM…
Blue light flared in William's eyes.
He activated the Space Stone's power, freezing the entire area in a stasis field. Time and space screeched to a halt.
Within the frozen world, William calmly approached the demon's soul and pressed a glowing sigil into its essence.
"Relax," William said with a grin. "I keep my promises. Give me good intel, and I'll offer you anywhere from one to ten evil souls in exchange."
"No! No, I can't make a deal with you!" The demon's soul flickered violently.
William blinked. What the hell? Do I look that scary?
The demon trembled and writhed inside the spatial cage. When it finally realized it couldn't escape, it whimpered, "You—you threw Set's soul fragment into a star. When the fragment was purified, it tore open a spatial rift that scorched Set's kingdom with stellar energy. He barely survived, and had to kneel before Mephisto to avoid being devoured by rival demon gods!
By Satan's horns—if I work with you, I'll be marked by both Prince Benar and Set! I'd rather go back to Hell with nothing!"
William narrowed his eyes.
So, Set had truly submitted to Mephisto. After suffering such a devastating loss of power, it made sense he would seek revenge but not act directly. He needed a proxy.
Enter Victor—the undead with a grudge.
Set's pulling the strings from the back. Victor is just the blade.
It all lined up. But William wasn't satisfied with just a theory—he needed a source of intel in Hell.
And the sniveling demon in front of him? Perfect. Small-time. Weak-willed. Cowardly.
Easy to control.
As for payment? William had the perfect supplier—Winston, the manager of the Continental Hotel in New York.
That ancient assassin organization processed hundreds, if not thousands, of hits per year. Among the dead, there were always those who had it coming—souls destined for Hell.
Feeding those souls to a demon? I can live with that.
He pointed to the four Americans frozen in place.
"I still don't know your name. Tell me your true name, and I'll let you devour those four little morsels. Sound fair?"
The demon's soul stirred violently, almost in excitement.
William leaned in, voice like poisoned honey. "Think about it—terrified souls, marinated in fear and panic. Aren't they the tastiest treats in Hell?
Would you rather rot here in a dustless pocket dimension for eternity… or snack on the occasional sinner while serving me?
Come on. You're a demon—not a saint."
"Abdul-Kadir Sirilo Aguswari Fischer," the demon gasped. "Now let me eat them!"
William repeated the name aloud, and instantly felt a connection to the demon's soul.
He then activated the spatial signature he'd branded into it, the Space Stone's energy wrapping around the demon's essence like a noose.
There was no contract. No blood pact. No signature.
But Fischer's soul was now bound. From this moment on, the demon was his.
And without any formal contract, no one—not even Mephisto—would know it.
Grinning, William snapped his fingers.
CRACK.
The bindings vanished, and Fischer, now a free-floating soul-cloud of black smoke, howled with glee.
He dove straight for the nearest cultist, weaving through their terrified auras with almost erotic delight.
But instead of devouring them immediately, he manifested grotesque forms—horned serpents, toothy shadows, bloated corpses—and began tormenting the cultists with visions of their worst fears.
Only after savoring their screams did he gulp them down one by one.
As he finished his fourth soul-snack, Fischer floated languidly in place, licking his non-existent lips.
But his attention soon snapped toward the bound girl—Jennifer.
Still conscious, Jennifer's eyes widened in sheer terror. She strained to move but couldn't even twitch a finger under William's immobilization spell.
As the demon hovered near her, her eyes locked on William, full of desperation and unspoken pleas.
"Back off, Fischer," William said sharply.
Those four cultist scumbags? He couldn't care less.
But Jennifer? Harmless. A flirt, maybe—but not someone who deserved death.
He'd just wipe her memory later. No harm done.
Unfortunately, Fischer had already gotten a taste—literally—of terror-drenched souls.
Jennifer's soul, steeped in panic, must've smelled like prime rib to him.
And as a demon? He wasn't known for his impulse control.
Fischer lunged—
CRUNCH!
A jolt of pure agony shot through his soul. The spatial energy William had buried deep inside him constricted like a vice—tightening like a binding crown around Fischer's very essence.
The demon howled in pain, thrashing in midair.
"I-I'm sorry! I won't! I won't!"
William smirked coldly. "When I give an order—you follow it."
"Do well, and there are rewards. Disobey…"
He let the threat linger in the air like the edge of a sword.
"…and I'll show you what it means to live a life worse than death."
______
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