"Ten thousand is too few. How about a hundred to one?" William said with a smile. "As long as ten thousand humans remember your name, I can get a hundred mid-tier demons, ten high-tier demons, or even demons a level above?"
"You're dreaming," Mephisto sneered. "Demons a level above high-tier demons, quasi-demon gods, I don't even have a hundred of them under my command. Let alone a hundred thousand quasi-demon gods—if I had a hundred thousand high-tier demons, I would have unified Hell long ago. I wouldn't even need to work with you."
"You're really a pauper. As one of the Seven Lords of Hell, if you don't even have a thousand or eight hundred demon gods under you, you still dare call yourself a demon king."
Though he spoke this way, William thought to himself: if things were really as Mephisto said and these demons would obey him completely, then with his current shortage of heroic spirits, he could perhaps allocate some demons to serve as the heroic spirits of the Stonewing Beasts.
Thinking about how he might soon have not just ten thousand, but a countless number of demons once he established a firm foothold in Hell, all waiting for him to turn them into a Stonewing Beast legion, William felt that maybe it wouldn't be long before he could even conquer a different plane for fun.
After getting excited for a moment, he couldn't help but consider what he would do if he lost.
After pondering briefly, he decided that if he did lose, he would simply kill that two-crested dragon named Mephisto. Then he would publicize the news of the first cloned dinosaur killed by humanity — "Mephisto the two-crested dragon is dead" — which would surely spread around the world.
At that point, having a billion people remember the name Mephisto would not be difficult.
He would have fulfilled his side of the deal, but what Mephisto would get wouldn't be fear; instead, it would be regret for the two-crested dragon and schadenfreude directed at William.
Having a fallback plan for failure, William felt more secure about taking those ten thousand demons and securing a neutral territory first.
"If I win, I get a mid-tier demon army of ten thousand and a piece of land belonging to me, chosen by me, no less than ten thousand acres."
"No problem," Mephisto agreed after thinking for a moment. "If I win, my name must appear before everyone in the world."
"What are you thinking?" William shook his head directly, suddenly realizing that setting a fixed number would be highly disadvantageous to him—there was too much room for manipulation.
"At most, I can guarantee that over thirty percent of the world's print media and at least one television station per country will accurately say the name Mephisto."
Seeing William revise the terms again, Mephisto didn't fly into a rage this time.
He knew very well that even if William played tricks, with William having overwhelming power over him on Earth, he had no choice but to accept.
"What are we betting on?"
"We'll bet on whether John Wick can kill Ilyasov within three days," William said without hesitation. "I bet—"
"Wait," Mephisto interrupted before William could finish. "You set the terms of the bet, but choosing sides should be my right."
Seeing William's expression change, Mephisto happily said, "I bet John Wick can kill Ilyasov within three days."
"You bet on John Wick?" William said grimly. "John Wick is my man, you really want to bet on him? You don't want to reconsider?"
"Heh, no need to think it over. It's decided," Mephisto said, squinting his eyes.
"Fine, I'll bet that Ilyasov survives three days. Deal."
After speaking, William didn't wait for Mephisto to say anything more. He teleported away in an instant, appearing in New York, grabbing the magically unconscious Ilyasov, and teleporting straight to his villa in Asgard.
He sent a message to the guards stationed at the central square of the divine realm, "I want to see Odin."
Soon, William appeared in the council hall of Asgard, carrying the unconscious Ilyasov.
Seeing Ilyasov thrown onto the ground, Odin asked curiously, "What's this about?"
"I made a bet with Mephisto," William said, pointing at Ilyasov. "We bet on whether this scumbag could survive three days, so just in case, I had to bring him here."
"Guards," Odin commanded, pointing at Ilyasov. "Take this Midgardian to the magic prison, and inform the warden to have someone guard him at all times. I want to see him alive three days from now."
"Understood, Your Majesty."
Once Ilyasov was taken away, Odin cheerfully patted William's shoulder. "Let's go have a drink, and you can tell me all about your dealings with Mephisto."
Back on Earth, realizing he had been played, Mephisto ordered the low-tier demons and his followers who had entered Earth to search everywhere for Ilyasov.
Meanwhile, he gloomily wandered into a park, sat on a dim and cold bench, and stared at the silent, empty lawn.
For a brief moment, his face was full of confusion and helplessness.
But soon he understood that the reason things had turned out this way was simply because William's strength on Earth completely overpowered his own.
It was just like when he had encountered the Crimson Hell's Cytorrak in Hell—if he couldn't outwit Cytorrak, the latter would simply beat him into submission.
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There was no need for schemes—just brute force.
Now, William had exploited the fact that he hadn't finished stating the conditions, and, relying on being the owner of the Space Stone, had left Earth with the man.
Even though Mephisto knew he had been tricked, there was nothing he could do. Finding two humans in the universe was countless times harder than finding a needle in a haystack.
If Ilyasov was taken to Asgard, Mephisto would be completely powerless.
Being blocked in Hell by Odin was definitely one of his least favorite memories.
In New York, five hours behind London, night was just starting to fall. John Wick, knowing full well that Viggo would send people to kill him tonight, finished his dinner and looked up at the sky.
Since the sky wasn't completely dark yet, he knew he still had plenty of time. After clearing the table and finishing half a glass of red wine, John Wick finally got up and went to the basement of the villa.
He meticulously inspected the bulletproof suits Sunday had sent over recently. After confirming there were no issues, he placed his finger on the fingerprint scanner of the alloy case.
After a few beeps, the case automatically opened, revealing an M416 with a short barrel and two modified Glock 17s.
John Wick didn't touch the weapons first but directly picked up two metal rings and strapped them onto his wrists. He then donned a smart monocle.
Only then did he draw the three weapons and inspect them carefully. Once he confirmed there were no problems, he turned his attention to the other equipment.
Soon, his gaze was drawn to three bullet boxes marked with danger symbols.
Wearing the micro earpiece from the case and booting up his new phone, John Wick asked Sunday, "What are these bullets?"
"Newly developed explosive rounds. Upon hitting any target, the warhead will explode, and the power is comparable to a grenade.
So, a reminder, Mr. Wick: when using these bullets, always be mindful of the distance between yourself and the target to avoid injuring yourself."
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