"Second round of betting? Bet on what?" William asked casually.
He didn't even need to think about it. He already knew something was wrong here. Still, it wouldn't hurt to at least hear what Mephisto had to say.
Suppressing his excitement, Mephisto said in a steady tone, "Let's bet on the Space Bridge."
"Keep dreaming," William rejected immediately without a shred of hesitation. "You demons can't freely come and go on Earth anymore, and the world is already corrupt enough as it is. You think I'd personally destroy it?"
"Aren't you even curious about what I'm offering?" Mephisto asked eagerly.
After a moment of silence, William still shook his head. "I'm sure your offer would tempt me, but sorry, there are some lines I simply won't cross."
You and your so-called 'lines,' Mephisto cursed inwardly.
But if William refused, there was nothing he could do.
He couldn't fight William—not on Earth, where projections like his were easily crushed.
He couldn't deceive him either—after dealing with William this long, Mephisto knew better than anyone how cautious he was.
Besides, even if he succeeded, the backlash would be endless and unbearable.
Fine, Mephisto thought, my projection can still harvest more souls than the other demon lords.
Switching tactics, Mephisto said, "Set has been driven back to his own domain. But he asked me to relay a message—he wants to challenge you to a bet.
If he loses, he'll give you his entire Dark Kingdom. If he wins, he'll still give you the kingdom... but you'll have to forgo revenge."
"No."
William rejected instantly.
Greedy as he was, he wasn't foolish enough to be blinded by such easy bait.
Leave a dangerous enemy like Set alive?
Wait for him to recover and plot revenge?
And trust a demon's promise?
No thanks.
Besides, Mephisto obviously had something to gain from this too—and William had no interest in making his power grow stronger.
"I'm guessing Set also promised to pledge his undying loyalty to you if you spare him, right?"
"Hehe, of course. I knew you'd guess it," Mephisto shrugged.
"Set agreed to let me control part of his soul—just to survive. But... well, that old bastard is probably preparing for a desperate struggle right now."
Preparing desperately?
Ha—William smirked.
He knew Mephisto was trying to subtly warn him how hard it would be to kill a demon god.
But killing didn't always require doing it yourself.
Kicking the groveling Fischer lying on the ground, William snapped, "Dead yet? If not, get up and get to work."
"Not dead, not dead!" Fischer quickly yelped.
Hearing there was work to do, all his lingering fear was instantly forgotten.
William pulled out a soul coin from his storage and casually tossed it to Fischer.
"Each coin holds a hundred souls. See if these are useful to you."
The moment Fischer caught the coin, the scent of pure souls hit him hard.
Without hesitation, he inhaled and devoured the entire hundred souls in one gulp.
"Ahhh... so good..."
Watching the little demon show his hideous fangs in bliss, William scowled and kicked him again, sending him flying into a wall with a loud bang.
Seeing the crater left in the wall, William didn't feel the slightest guilt.
He simply used telekinesis to yank the dazed Fischer back.
With a wave of his hand, a magical whip materialized—and he began mercilessly lashing the demon.
"This is a hospital, you idiot! Breaking the wall? No respect for public property?!"
"I'm sorry, Master! I was wrong! Please spare me!" Fischer wailed, not even trying to dodge.
After all, with a hundred human souls now inside him, Fischer could heal any injuries easily.
Besides, after following William for only a short while, Fischer had already consumed more souls than he had in centuries.
He wasn't about to betray such a good master.
But despite the beating, Mephisto remained smiling calmly on the side, his eyes flashing with a strange light.
Realizing the intimidation wasn't working, William stopped the act.
He dismissed the energy whip and casually repaired the wall with a restoration spell.
Turning to Fischer, he said, "Quit playing dead. Tell me—are these souls useful to you demons?"
"Of course, Master!" Fischer answered excitedly,
"These are battlefield souls—filled with rage, slaughter, and fear!
For a mid-tier demon like me, they're the best kind of nourishment.
If I absorb a few hundred more, I could evolve into a true mid-tier demon!"
"You mean you're still a low-tier demon?" William sneered, kicking him again.
Now that he confirmed the souls were valuable, William wasn't about to just hand them over.
Otherwise, he might end up directly boosting the demon lords' strength.
Instead, he instructed Fischer,
"Go to the Crimson Hell. Tell Cytorrak—if he kills Set for me,
I'll make sure at least one million people on Earth know his name."
"One million?!"
Mephisto's eyes lit up.
If he had a million people fearing him, the fear energy he could harvest would be tremendous!
And as for Set—without land or followers, he was nothing but a powerful thug.
Compared to strengthening himself, helping Set was worthless.
Eager, Mephisto said, "No need to ask Cytorrak. I'll do it for you!"
"You?" William sneered.
"Unless you swear by Hell's will to kill Set within one Earth hour,
you can forget it. I don't trust you."
"An hour? Impossible!" Mephisto shouted.
"Even Cytorrak wouldn't expend that much effort for just a million fears."
"You're trying to renegotiate?" William mocked.
Kicking Fischer again, he added,
"Get going—find Cytorrak.
He's the kind of demon who's strong but desperate to be famous."
"Yes, Master," Fischer said obediently, lying flat and waiting for William to send him back.
Seconds passed, but William didn't move.
Fischer realized William was waiting—to see if Mephisto would budge.
After another few seconds, as William coldly snorted, Fischer gritted his teeth and began self-evacuating—invoking the material plane's will to forcibly eject himself.
"Wait!"
Seeing Fischer's body glow red, Mephisto immediately panicked.
He knew what Fischer was doing—and he absolutely didn't want Cytorrak getting stronger.
______
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