Chapter 137: Glory Of The Cross! King Of Hell
The air in the abandoned factory was filled with the smell of rust and rotten flesh.
Madison’s head felt as heavy as lead, too groggy to lift. Her eyelids felt like they weighed tons, each struggle to open them felt like trying to move a mountain.
Even if she forced her eyes open.
Madison could only see a haze of crimson.
This was not a metaphorical blood-red, of course – her forehead had indeed been split open, warm blood trickling down her brow bone, blurring her right eye’s vision.
“Damn it! What’s wrong with me?”
Her groggy mind made Madison unable to recall anything. She blinked, trying to shake off the viscous liquid, but only intensified the discomfort in her eyes.
The damp, musty smell mixed with the scent of blood flooded her nostrils.
It made the fourteen-year-old girl’s stomach churn.
“I’m an eighteen-line child star in Hollywood, I can act in movies and TV series. As for adult films, maybe when I’m old and frail, having lost my looks and addicted to drugs, and end up on the streets with no way to live, then perhaps I’ll consider it… Please, don’t harvest my organs.” Madison, relying on her survival instinct, screamed at the top of her lungs.
No one responded.
The only answer she received was the crackling sound of burning candles.
Twelve black candles formed a perfect circle, and she was tied to a stone altar at the center. Magic patterns adorned the surrounding ground, appearing to be pre-ritual runes.
Madison’s groggy state was related to this. Although there was no one around, countless chaotic and noisy voices kept drilling into her mind.
Her temples throbbed.
Each heartbeat felt like someone pounding on her skull with a hammer.
“Mmm.”
“Is anyone there?”
A cold, hard sensation came from her back.
“I have to save myself!” Madison finally managed to pry her eyelids open, realizing she was bound to a rough stone altar, her wrists and ankles chafing painfully from the water-soaked hemp ropes.
Dim light cast down from above, casting distorted shadows on the concrete floor. She couldn’t even recall being a witch; her mind was as if covered by a thick fog.
Only the obsession that she hadn’t become a big star yet and shouldn’t die in a place like this kept her struggling. However, due to her weakened body, she couldn’t cut the ropes with her nails.
“Although I can’t remember which movie it was, surely there was a movie where this was possible…” Most of Madison’s channels for acquiring common knowledge were indeed through movies and TV series.
She couldn’t figure it out.
And at this very moment.
“Tap~tap~tap~”
Footsteps approached.
Heavy, slow, with an inhuman rhythm. Madison’s breathing hitched, her pupils dilating to their limit in the dimness as a colossal silhouette emerged from the shadows.
A bull’s head.
A human body.
A torso nearly three meters tall cast a distorted shadow in the dim light.
But something was also off.
The minotaur’s body looked poorly pieced together, its left arm thicker than the right, its skin a patchwork of different shades, and the stitches were as hideous as centipedes.
The strangest part was the head—it seemed to be that of a wild yak.
However, it had bronze horns, amber eyes, and breathed sulfur from its nostrils—a stark contrast to the human corpse it was grafted onto.
“Don’t come near me!” the bound Madison revealed an expression of utmost terror, struggling frantically, her wrists and ankles bleeding from the rough hemp ropes.
A broken scream escaped Madison’s throat.
The minotaur demon quickly raised a finger to its monstrous mouth.
“Shh—”
It made a shushing gesture.
Its voice, full of caution, rumbled low like thunder from the earth, yet deliberately kept quiet, “Little witch, brought home by Ian, you absolutely must not make a sound now.”
As it spoke.
The minotaur demon reached out to untie the knots on Madison’s wrists, but its fingers, clearly not belonging to the same owner, were uncooperative. Madison watched as it tried three times without success, unable to grasp the rope.
“My own body isn’t as perfect as Ian’s! Damn it!”
The minotaur demon mumbled, its voice laced with embarrassment. After another failed attempt, it let out an exasperated growl, puffing out a small cloud of sparks from its nostrils.
“What kind of Pinduoduo body is that?” Madison felt something about to surface in her mind, her memory seemingly returning. She noticed the minotaur demon’s right hand only had three fingers.
And they clearly belonged to different individuals, with skin tones ranging from pale to dark.
“What exactly are you?” With her memories in disarray, the words “Ian” and “Pinduoduo” were sensitive. She stopped struggling, fixing her gaze on the giant demon.
“It seems this thing has affected your memory,” the minotaur demon said, using its six legs to erase a corner of the complex magic array on the ground.
This was the downside of drawing magic circles with human blood.
Easily damaged.
Completely unlike the concept of the Ian magic array, which was made with quick-drying paint from black dog blood. Suddenly, Madison recalled a wealth of knowledge, her eyes instantly clearing.
As the magic array was damaged.
She immediately felt the low humming in her ears disappear.
Her brain quickly began to operate again.
“Do you remember me? I am Baal, the Abyss Magic Bucket, Ian’s indispensable trash can.” The minotaur demon continued to try and untie Madison’s ropes.
It began to test if Madison was still Madison in a probing tone.
Ian?
Madison blinked.
The minotaur demon, Baal, continued to remind her.
“Earlier, you took me from the ruins of Ian’s house. You even tried to wish me to turn my M-beans into illegal happy beans.”
It was helping Madison awaken her dormant memories.
It had to be said.
The effect was outstanding.
The memory regions in Madison’s brain were suddenly awakened.
More memories flooded in like a tide, images flashing past—a scene of disarray, where she had packed up her deskmate’s property from the ruins, intending to claim great credit the next day.
She found her parents.
And then she performed her newly learned magic for them—real magic, not street trickery. Amidst her parents’ exclamations of amazement, Madison remembered how she had single-handedly escorted her parents to an official shelter.
“I shouldn’t have listened to you, saying we could use those monsters invading the city to film my own hero special!” Madison remembered everything.
She was supposed to stay with her parents in the shelter, but she had believed the demon’s bewitching words and went out to become a celebrity superhero, only to be knocked out from behind while posing for the camera.
It was in a restaurant.
The lighting was dim, and the customers were eerily silent. As she approached the counter, everyone turned their heads—their eyes were completely black, without whites.
At first.
Madison thought these lucky survivors she had saved were just fans of colored contact lenses, but then she was ambushed, and the last words she heard before losing consciousness were calling her the Sorceress Supreme.
And… the murderer of the boss’s son has been found.
“That book! Right! They took that book!”
Madison’s eyes widened abruptly, all her memories returning. She turned her head to stare at the pieced-together minotaur demon beside her: “And you! After being picked up from the ground, you betrayed me on the spot!”
In the flashback of memories.
Madison remembered that the minotaur, which was only a head at the time, betrayed her faster than she could remove her makeup.
Not even the slightest hesitation.
Regarding this.
The minotaur demon, Baal, felt no shame; it even smiled slightly, subconsciously straightening its back—a movement that caused its pieced-together body to emit an ominous creak.
“I call it assessing the situation and enduring humiliation; it’s true cunning!” it said in a low voice righteously, “You must understand, those ghastly things are not human.”
“They are demons, much stronger demons than I am, demons who specialize in making deals at crossroads. To save you, I could only use the wisdom I learned from Ian to be a double agent and infiltrate them.”
“You see, I’ve seized the opportunity now, waiting to act.” As a warrior-class demon, being able to play the strategist was something that made the minotaur demon very happy.
The more it spoke, the more excited it became.
The sparks it expelled almost burned Madison’s bangs.
“Do you know how expensive this fringe of mine is?”
Madison dodged by twisting her head.
She couldn’t refute it.
She just felt that the demon’s logic was damnably sound.
“You truly are Ian’s pet,” she said, tilting her chin up, trying to conceal her recent panic. “You do have some small cleverness. I was actually just testing you.”
“I’ve understood that all along, of course.” The little punk still loved to feign wisdom, but her limited child star career hadn’t featured many intelligent roles.
She had essentially been playing the role of a mean girl since her debut.
Her acting range was incredibly consistent.
Horror films, dramas, comedies—without exception, the characters she played were all the same mold: the wicked schoolgirl.
“Testing? Only Ian can test me!” The minotaur demon didn’t retort to Madison; it simply refuted her sternly, then looked at the candles on the ground.
“Hoo~”
The minotaur demon, employing its intellect, exhaled through its nostrils, igniting its Pinduoduo finger with sparks. It then used its burning finger to successfully burn through Madison’s ropes.
“Sizzle sizzle sizzle~”
The ropes snapped.
Madison quickly flipped off the eerie altar.
“See? It feels great to use your brain more; look how brightly my hand is burning.” The minotaur demon lifted its burning finger, very pleased with its current resourcefulness.
“You could have just used the candles on the ground…” Madison didn’t want to complain too much to the demon that saved her, she just flexed her blood-stained wrists.
“Where’s my mobile phone?”
In this inopportune place.
The little punk again wanted to take some photos for sad literature.
“You have to praise me more in front of Ian,” Baal mumbled indistinctly, its burning finger oozing green viscous liquid that hissed and corroded the stone altar.
“No problem.”
The little punk nodded quickly; she still needed a favor from the demon Baal. “You really can’t turn my M-beans into happy beans so I can sell them in Hollywood?”
Regarding the consumption of contraband in Hollywood.
The public knew.
Wealthy celebrities paid much higher prices than on the outside.
“Come on, I’m just a demon’s head, I’m not a Genie in a bottle,” Baal rolled its massive eyes, an expression quite comical for a minotaur demon.
Hearing this.
Madison pouted.
“Then spit out my M-beans, the whole bottle. You didn’t say that when you ate them.” Her memory was intact now, and she clearly recalled their previous interaction.
“Have you ever seen a trash can spit out trash?” Baal furiously wiped at the magic array on the ground with its several legs, as if trying to destroy the evidence of its presence.
After all.
After arriving in the human world.
Demons that could walk on six legs were quite rare.
Just as Madison was about to retort, she suddenly heard an unusual noise from afar, accompanied by chanting. Baal immediately tensed up, its pieced-together muscles bulging.
Its several arms each grabbed a weapon: a hoe, a hammer, and a mallet. Hearing the commotion outside, the little witch also became very nervous, just like the minotaur demon Baal.
“Are they back?”
Madison looked surprised and uncertain.
“It shouldn’t be this early.” Baal’s cloudy eyes faintly glowed in the darkness. It listened intently for a moment, then shook its head, its horns tracing faint arcs in the air.
“Those guys are busy preparing a summoning ritual to let their boss set foot in the human world. They shouldn’t return to this temporary nest before nightfall.”
The minotaur demon’s voice rumbled like thunder from deep within its chest. It had indeed infiltrated the demon organization, obtaining a lot of highly classified information.
“Demon boss?” Madison wrinkled her nose. “Is it Lucifer?”
Hearing this.
Baal let out a sneer, spitting out a few sparks. “Those scum aren’t worthy of serving Lucifer. The boss of these demons is just a somewhat capable crossroads demon.”
Saying this.
It dismissively flicked its tail—which was actually half a human spine, with a small clump of hair still attached to the end, showing its imaginative approach to assembling its body.
“We need to find Ian,” Madison said, biting her lip, a bead of blood welling up from her forehead wound with the change in her expression. “He’ll definitely know how to deal with these guys.”
The little punk had always trusted Ian implicitly.
“God Ian definitely doesn’t like others touching his books; he’ll eat all demons except me.” Baal was so confident based on its understanding of Ian.
Its eyes even held a hint of anticipation.
When it mingled with other demons, they often asked why it drooled. The demons had no idea that the Abyss Magic Bucket only wanted to eat Ian’s leftovers.
That would be enough for it to evolve again.
Filled with excitement, demon Baal carefully led Madison towards the entrance. The corridors of the abandoned factory were like the intestines of some giant beast, damp, dark, and reeking of mixed rust and rotten flesh.
Madison’s feet trod on the cold concrete floor.
Each step reminded her of the fear she felt while lying on the altar just moments ago.
The wound on her forehead throbbed.
Blood had congealed on her eyelashes, slightly blurring her right eye’s vision.
Out of vigilance.
The little punk raised her hand, ready to cast magic at any moment.
However.
Precisely at this moment.
She discovered she still couldn’t channel the magic power within her body.
“No, what’s going on?” Madison realized something was wrong and reached up to touch the back of her neck, where a symbol seemed to have been carved by a knife.
This was clearly a method to lock Madison’s magic power. However, without systematically learning magic knowledge, the little witch didn’t know how to break it.
“How do I get my magic back?”
She sought help from the Minotaur Demon beside her.
It was just that.
She had clearly asked the wrong person.
“I’m a warrior from Hell, and you’re asking me such a tricky question?” Baal did have a lot of inheritance knowledge related to magic, but it was all harmful things, not helpful ones.
At most, it knew that breaking Madison’s neck might stop the restraint on Madison.
“Let’s leave quickly…” Without magic to protect her, Madison knew she was just a helpless little beauty, so she felt very insecure at this moment.
“Then let’s hurry.”
Baal urged in a low voice from the front.
The assembled corpse-like long legs made dull thuds on the ground.
Madison quickened her pace.
“Bang, bang, bang~”
Suddenly, she and Demon Baal heard a series of muffled sounds from the factory building on the right. Madison froze abruptly and involuntarily snatched a hoe from Baal.
“Wh-what sound?”
As the man and the demon watched.
The iron door of the factory building on the right suddenly creaked open.
Flickering candlelight spilled from the slightly ajar door.
It was very obvious.
The initial noise and the sounds heard just now were all anomalies coming from there. Baal made a shushing gesture and tiptoed closer to the door.
This was not an easy task for it, with its many uncoordinated legs.
“Could it be other kidnapped people?”
Madison followed closely behind Baal, peeking through the gap – just as she had guessed, there was indeed a man hanging in the center of the room.
He looked much more miserable than she did when she was tied up.
“Help… me…”
The man struggled to lift his head.
His lips were dry.
He was hung from the ceiling by iron chains attached to his wrists like livestock in a slaughterhouse. His short blond hair was matted with blood, and his cheap-looking windbreaker, without a brand, was already in tatters.
“Okay.”
Madison said, about to enter the door.
However, Demon Baal stopped her by raising an arm.
“No, I’m going to be a superhero and save people, and then have them praise me in an interview. Maybe I can get interviewed too.”
“Have you watched Ian’s The Boys? I think I can become a star like that.” Madison looked at the wary Demon Baal with some confusion.
“Save him?”
Demon Baal directly scoffed, “He won’t increase your fame. Instead, he’ll bring you bad luck, and might even sell you to other demons in Hell.”
Its tone was certain.
Madison was somewhat stunned.
“Abyss Magic Bucket, do you know this guy?” Madison was a girl with high emotional intelligence, so she could keenly sense the grudging tone in Demon Baal’s voice.
“That’s John Constantine. There isn’t a demon who doesn’t know him,” Baal spat out the name through clenched teeth, as if it were full of rotten pus and blood.
“John Constantine, who brings bad luck to anyone who associates with him.”
“Demons can be beasts, but Constantine is worse than a beast.” With that, the Minotaur Demon pushed open the iron door and strode to beneath the hanging man.
It tilted its head back and spat out a mouthful of thick phlegm. The phlegm landed precisely on Constantine’s face, slowly sliding down the exorcist’s prominent nose, a man disliked by both demons and humans.
In response.
Constantine was not angered.
He simply raised his head and looked at the little witch standing at the doorway, clutching the hoe.
“Don’t believe this demon’s bewitchment, sweetie. You really need to save me. Only by saving me can everyone in the world live… we can all live.”
Constantine’s voice was hoarse.
As if he hadn’t had a drink in a long time.
He struggled to twist his body under the chain’s restraint, trying to find a comfortable position – this was quite difficult considering his current predicament.
“I am a good person, a very good person. John Constantine, my profession is an exorcist. Just hearing my profession, you should know how great I am, right?”
It was clear Constantine was desperately trying to be saved.
He and Demon Baal were criticizing each other.
In response.
Madison made her own judgment.
“This is the pet demon of my deskmate, it should be a good demon.” Since Demon Baal had saved her and was Ian’s pet, Madison naturally thought Demon Baal couldn’t be too bad.
Upon hearing this.
Constantine’s expression froze.
“Are you sure? He’s a minion of Sangong Mo, the lowest-ranking minion at that.” John Constantine, still hanging in mid-air, his blond bangs stuck to his bleeding forehead.
He still managed to muster his signature sarcastic smile.
“Shut up!”
Veins bulged on Baal’s original bull head, and two streams of sulfur-smelling white smoke puffed from its nostrils.
“Do you think Baal Master and I are the same as before? I’m the Abyss Magic Bucket now! I’ve found my path! My future is limitless! I have the potential of a Great Demon!”
“Look at the curve of my horns, I was born to be a Demon Lord!”
Its many legs and arms moved erratically, and it firmly recounted to Constantine the daily “PUA” sessions Ian had with it. The demon clearly believed this wholeheartedly.
Faced with the demon’s rebuttal.
Constantine just sneered.
He ignored the demon’s retort and looked back at the bewildered little witch.
“Do you know what Sangong Mo is? That is a truly notorious and terrifying existence.” Constantine’s tone was serious, and his blue eyes were narrowed into slits.
Having said that.
Without waiting for the little witch’s reply.
The man looked at Demon Baal again, his tone carrying a hint of meaning, “I think you understand better than I do that betraying Sangong Mo will not end well.”
This was clearly an attempt to negotiate with the demon, using some means to avoid Sangong Mo’s revenge.
However.
Demon Baal seemed completely unfazed.
“Pah, pah, pah, who is Sangong Mo? I don’t know him at all. I only know Emperor of All Laws Ian the God. Betraying Ian the God is what truly has no good ending.”
While recalling.
Demon Baal shivered.
It did not fear Sangong Mo.
On the contrary, it was terrified of the fourteen-year-old Ian.
In this demon’s heart.
Ian truly had the aura of a new Lord of Hell.
“?????????”
Constantine was dumbfounded.
This was not what he expected.
“Heh, it seems you don’t know what Ian the God is at all, but I know, I know very well,” the Minotaur Demon said, raising several hands to grip Constantine’s chin.
Constantine looked directly into Demon Baal’s eyes.
“He is a god, isn’t he? I’ve met that boy too.” Constantine suddenly changed his tone, his voice becoming smooth and oily. He recalled what the angel had warned him about.
“In fact, Ian and I are on very good terms. We had tea at Starbucks last time—” Constantine activated his innate skill, attempting to scam the demon and the little witch.
“Is that so?”
Madison was easily deceived.
She almost fell for it.
However, Demon Baal, who had always followed Ian, was different.
“I believe you, my foot!”
Baal’s original bull head let out a deafening roar of laughter. Dust rained down from the ceiling as it slapped Constantine several times.
“You see Ian the God and run away! I’ve always been right behind Ian the God, watching you with my eyes. You run so fast, I bet you owe him a lot of money.”
The Minotaur Demon made a comical gesture of a small pendant swinging.
“…”
Constantine was speechless.
“Ian the God will reward me.” Baal suddenly reached into Constantine’s windbreaker pocket, its assembled fingers fumbling quickly and clumsily. Amidst Constantine’s yelps, it pulled out all of Constantine’s hidden magical items.
“Damn it! I don’t owe him money! Give it back! Give it back! His dad even stole my Spirit Calling Card!” Constantine cried out in alarm, wriggling fruitlessly in mid-air.
Like a flipped turtle.
“Then go tell his dad, if you dare,” Demon Baal packed up Constantine’s wealth, not even leaving Constantine his windbreaker.
“No, what kind of plot is this? At least leave him his underwear.”
Watching this scene, Madison had a surreal illusion—she felt like she was in some twisted theater, only the actors were a demon, an exorcist, and herself, the unlucky witch.
“Alright, I won’t take his underwear. The main reason is that last time Ian the God took Savitar’s underwear, and I learned from it.” Demon Baal eventually adopted Madison’s suggestion.
Only then did Madison lower her hands from covering her eyes.
“A loyal demon like me is a hot commodity in any Hell! I will definitely receive commendations!” Demon Baal was full of confidence in its future.
It had indeed achieved enlightenment.
Forget Sangong Mo or whatever; it only believed in the one true Lord in the world, Ian the God.
Clearly, through days of thinking and summarizing, it had realized that its parents and grandparents had died early precisely because they had followed the wrong person.
Starting from its generation, it had to change its allegiance.
Who knew if it would get a stable job.
“Let’s go, let’s go.”
Saying this, Demon Baal was about to leave with Madison. It spat at Constantine one last time. It was clear that any demon would absolutely detest Constantine.
“Wait!” Constantine, disregarding his dignity and the deep hatred from being spat on twice, saw that the demon and the witch were already at the main entrance.
He suddenly raised his voice, his chains shaking violently.
“You are the Sorceress Supreme of this generation, aren’t you?”
Constantine shouted at Madison, “Honestly, the previous Sorceress Supreme had a very good relationship with me. I think she must have been your teacher, right?”
Madison’s footsteps suddenly halted.
She slowly turned around.
“That old hag doesn’t look in the mirror and dares to covet this perfect body of mine. You call her my teacher?” Madison recalled her previous encounters with gnashing teeth.
She even felt like spitting at Constantine now.
Seeing this.
Knowing he had guessed wrong, Constantine was instantly dumbfounded. His Adam’s apple bobbed, cold sweat mixed with blood dripped from his forehead, and he felt like his luck had been getting worse every day since he came to Metropolis.
“Uh, actually, I’ve also disliked that old witch for a long time.” Constantine’s mind raced, and he quickly changed his attitude, as if he hadn’t tried to build a connection just now.
He gave a dry chuckle.
“She still owes me five hundred pounds from last time, so I actually have a deep hatred for her too.” This hastily concocted excuse was utterly unconvincing.
Even for Madison, with her easily deceived nature, she let out a scoff.
“Save it, Mr. Liar.” She turned to leave, her blond hair forming a sharp arc. “I’m not stupid. I know very well that every word you say reeks of scum.”
In this regard.
Madison’s sense of smell was indeed sharp.
Perhaps every campus celebrity had a similar talent.
“Look! Look, you even mentioned the Sorceress Supreme. It’s true that people of the same kind flock together!” Demon Baal let out a deafening, merciless laugh.
Its assembled lungs made a sound like a bellows.
“Retribution!”
It jumped around gleefully, a kneecap falling to the ground. Ignoring it, the two had just reached the rusty iron gate when Constantine’s heart-wrenching cry came from behind them.
“Don’t leave me! I’m telling the truth! You really need to save me!”
His voice was extremely loud. “I know what those demons are planning. They don’t just want to summon their boss! What they are doing will definitely poison the entire human world.”
Perhaps Constantine wasn’t exaggerating from the start.
Hearing this.
Madison stopped at the doorway, sunlight shining on her blond hair. The girl turned her head, devoid of curiosity, “As long as we find Ian, he’ll definitely be able to figure out what those demons are up to.”
How to put it.
Everyone in the DC universe liked to find an external brain.
Perhaps the little witch’s external brain was Ian.
“No matter how powerful that boy is, he’s just a nascent god!” Constantine’s voice was filled with unprecedented urgency. “You have no idea what those demons have—”
His words suddenly stopped.
Madison was somewhat shocked.
She saw Constantine’s mouth open wide like a fish out of water, his eyeballs bulging, and blue-purple veins erupting under his pale skin. This was definitely not an expression that acting could convey.
“What’s going on?”
The little witch, after all, had some kindness. She rushed forward to check if Constantine’s neck was entangled by the chain, but there was nothing around Constantine’s neck.
He kept kicking his legs.
His body convulsed violently a few times.
Then he hung from the iron chains like a puppet with a broken string.
He had simply fainted.
“If I couldn’t sell this dirty exorcist for a good price to Baal, I’d really want to kill him… Why did he have to say things he shouldn’t have?”
A voice as gentle as jade came from the doorway.
At that moment.
Madison felt the blood in her brain instantly freeze—she turned her head towards the doorway, where a man in a sharp suit was standing.
Beneath his meticulously combed black hair was a face that was almost perfect in its handsomeness.
If it weren’t for his pitch-black eyes with no whites, and his right hand piercing through Baal’s assembled chest, Madison would have almost thought he was some banker who had stumbled into the wrong place.
“Crossroad Demon.”
Baal’s bull head turned with difficulty, its amber pupils shrinking to the size of needle points. Dark blood gushed from its mouth, dripping onto the man’s custom suit.
It immediately dissolved into wisps of smoke.
“No, Abyss Magic Bucket, why are you so weak!”
Madison was greatly shocked.
She hadn’t expected the demon, who had boasted so much before, to be instantly killed by someone.
“Low-level demons are just like this, mere consumables.”
The suited demon contemptuously explained for the Minotaur.
“But he’d upgraded several times!”
Madison remembered the Demonic Minotaur mentioning this before.
“I did upgrade, but low-level demons who upgrade aren’t the same as high-level demons. There are also low-level rank one, low-level rank two. Ian, God, said I just reached low-level rank three.”
The Demonic Minotaur explained forcefully while spitting blood.
“????????”
Madison was speechless.
At this point in time.
He still had the mind to give her a lecture?
Was he crazy!
“Heh, a low-level demon will always be a low-level demon.” The suited demon didn’t understand what the Demonic Minotaur was saying, but that didn’t stop him from mocking him.
“Why did you come back?”
The Demonic Minotaur said weakly.
“We demons are good at betrayal, aren’t we? We’ve all noticed your strangeness. Sangong Mo wouldn’t want the power within the Sorceress Supreme.”
The suited man withdrew his hand.
The next moment.
“Rumble!”
Demon Baal’s assembled body scattered in a violent explosion.
Fragments flew everywhere.
Its head rolled to the ground, making a dull thud. However, in the swirling dust, a cunning gleam still flickered in its cloudy eyes.
No one noticed this.
The demon in a suit and leather shoes approached with a contemptuous smile, ready to stomp on the seemingly powerless head. However, when he stomped down, the expected cracking sound did not occur.
Instead, a hard sensation met his foot.
“Huh?”
The Italian handmade leather shoes hovered three inches above Baal’s head, the soles stained with green demon blood. For the first time, confusion appeared on the suited demon’s handsome face.
“This isn’t fun.”
He said softly, and suddenly applied force with his foot.
Madison’s scream was stuck in her throat. She saw the expensive leather shoe stomp heavily on Baal’s bull head, making a sickening crushing sound—but the expected splatter of brains did not appear—the bull’s head was as if cast in concrete, not even a crack appearing on it.
“What’s going on?”
The suited demon was also stunned.
“Heh, Wisdom Demons are different from you, of course.” The Demonic Minotaur’s voice suddenly regained its full vigor. It rolled under the suited demon’s foot like a soccer ball.
“I have heard true holy words and know that the body is just a burden, and the head is the true self—this is the reward for evolving only my head, discarding my body!”
“I’ve put all my energy into evolving my head, what are you going to fight me with?”
Its voice sounded like muffled thunder from the depths of the earth, and a fierce pillar of fire erupted from the bull’s mouth, burning through the suited demon’s leather shoes and directly towards his face.
“Such high-level hellfire, a low-level demon like you shouldn’t be this powerful!” The suited demon let out a non-human scream, stumbling backward and knocking over a row of iron racks.
The perfect skin on his face melted like wax.
“It can do that?” Madison was dumbfounded. Ian’s trash can could spew fire and talk at the same time, which was truly outrageous. She felt her worldview had been refreshed again.
“Hearing holy words made me strong! I am not Baal! I am now Fire Barrett!” Baal’s head spun on the ground, and flames chased the fleeing suited demon.
Flames collided with a dark barrier, erupting with blinding sparks.
Seeing the battle between the two demons becoming a stalemate, Madison came back to her senses and glanced at the items scattered on the ground, which Demon Baal had taken from Constantine.
“I have to help Abyss Magic Bucket, it still owes me a large bucket of M&Ms.”
The witch, unable to use magic, started to rack her brain. She crouched down and rushed over, frantically searching through the pile of windbreakers, cigarette cases, and loose change.
There was even a bag of sand inside.
Heaven knew why anyone would carry a bag of sand in their clothes.
Magic sand?
“Damn old smoker. How can there be over a dozen packs of cigarettes, and all of cheap brands that even dogs wouldn’t smoke.” The little witch pulled out a silver flask from Constantine’s inner pocket.
She shook it.
Hearing the sound of liquid.
“Hope it’s holy water.”
Madison yanked open the flask stopper and splashed the liquid at the agilely dodging suited demon—this was not an easy task, as the suited demon’s speed was unnaturally fast.
Seeing that her previous two attempts to splash water had missed, and there was not much water left in the flask, Madison frowned and directly poured the water into her mouth, performing a widespread saturation spray of “magic potion.”
The effect was excellent.
The holy water scattered like a celestial maiden scattering flowers.
Falling onto the demon.
The demon’s body immediately let out a sizzling sound like fried food.
“You—ah!” Ravenclaw’s curse turned into a scream. The place on his chest where the holy water had landed emitted white smoke, and his strength and magic power greatly diminished in an instant.
Demon Baal, having returned to its bull form, seized the opportunity and spewed hellfire from its mouth again. This time, the flames pierced directly through the weakened magic barrier.
Enveloping Ravenclaw into a human fireball. The flames swept away like a tornado, directly engulfing the suited demon, making him wail as the smell of burning filled the entire room.
“Damn witch!”
A distorted roar came from within the flames.
Suddenly.
The suited demon roared in anger, attempting to counterattack, charging towards the witch with hellfire all over him. This was not a suicidal attack, but rather he intended to draw some of the witch’s magic power.
That power derived from ancient gods.
Seeing the menacing demon approaching, the little witch, in her haste, could only grab the cross from the pile of miscellaneous items and press it directly onto the forehead of the stumbling suited demon.
Flames burned.
The air was quiet.
The suited demon became incredibly stiff.
However.
Soon he realized that nothing had happened.
“Hahaha! You think I’ll be afraid of this? You have no faith at all! This thing is just a piece of scrap iron to you!” The suited demon, burning all over, laughed maniacally.
Madison became flustered and tried to reach for something again.
“Little witch! You have to believe! Believe in Emperor of All Laws, Ian, God!” As the suited demon approached Madison, the head, afraid to continue spewing fire, shouted from the ground.
This sentence made Madison snap back to reality.
“Oh, oh!”
Her mind went blank, and she could only shout loudly.
“May Ian, God, protect me!”
The little witch clutched the cross as if holding an imaginary holy sword. However, as soon as she finished speaking, the suited demon, whose forehead was being pressed, couldn’t help but laugh.
“What madness is this, why don’t you take a look at what you’re holding? God won’t save those who are temporary…” He raised his hand to draw some of the magic power belonging to the Sorceress Supreme.
However.
Unexpectedly.
Before his taunting words were finished.
The demon felt the cross on his forehead suddenly become scorching hot.
“Impossible!”
The demon’s smile froze on his face.
At this moment.
Madison felt a warm current surge from her palm, flowing through her veins and into her entire body. The worn patterns on the cross lit up one by one, as if injected with liquid sunlight.
Then the world turned white.
Constantine was awakened by the dazzling light and thought he had arrived at the gates of heaven. He squinted his eyes, weathered by years of smoking, and saw a young girl holding a radiant cross.
And the crossroad demon who had caused him so much trouble was melting like a wax figure in the white light.
Turning into ashes.
The white light gradually receded, finally shrinking back into the inconspicuous cross. Madison stared blankly at the object in her hand—it now looked like an ordinary, somewhat old religious ornament.
All that remained in the room were floating ashes and the smell of burnt roasted meat.
“Cough cough.” Baal’s head rolled to Madison’s feet, its horns covered in dust. It said in amazement, “I told you Ian, God, never lies. Faith generates power.”
Hearing this.
Madison found it perfectly reasonable.
Constantine, however, opened his mouth wide.
Stunned.
“No way? Is this… is this magic?” Constantine realized what had happened, his gaze sweeping across the ashes on the ground and then to the cross in Madison’s hand, its light gradually fading.
His eyes were filled with shock and confusion.
To Constantine, reciting the names of other gods while holding a cross was equivalent to seeking death, yet this person inexplicably unleashed energy more terrifying than when he pretended to be devout.
“Did your mom sleep with God?”
After holding it in for a long time.
Constantine could only come up with what he considered the most reasonable possibility.
“Slap!”
His outspoken words earned the legendary exorcist two more slaps.
…
Metropolis.
Downtown.
Ian stood at Madison’s doorstep.
He knocked on the door.
He was planning to find the little punk girl who didn’t attend class today, then get his navigation map back to find the Dream God’s sandbag, thereby making the Dream God owe him a huge debt of gratitude.
Just as Ian pressed the doorbell for the fifth time.
The door suddenly opened.
It was Madison’s mother, a beautiful wife with swollen, red eyes.
“You’re Xiaomai’s alien boyfriend, right?”
She recognized Ian.
At least, she thought she did.
“…”
Ian smiled politely, speechless. “Hello, Auntie. I’m Madison’s deskmate. She didn’t come to class today, so the teacher asked me to come ask what happened.”
He usually didn’t blink when he lied.
To this.
Madison’s mother was not suspicious. As she mentioned it, her eyes reddened further.
“Last night, she said she was going out to be a superhero. My little madwoman… never came home. The police said she might have committed suicide at some disaster site.”
Her voice choked.
Full of grief.
Ian’s smile froze completely on his face.
Through the crack in the door, he saw Madison’s father in the living room wiping tears over a photo of his daughter. Candles and flowers were placed on the coffee table—like a miniature shrine.
“Uh, maybe her phone just ran out of battery?” Ian said dryly. He didn’t believe the little punk girl had sacrificed herself, because the little punk girl wasn’t particularly weak.
Even if she died.
There should still be a corpse.
And witnesses.
However.
There was no related information online.
“You don’t know. She’s been acting strange lately. Can conjure flames out of nowhere. Says it’s witchcraft.” Madison’s mother really would say anything.
She suddenly grabbed Ian’s wrist, her tone almost pleading, “If you see her, tell her her mother is very worried about her, okay?”
Ian felt the spot on his wrist where she touched him begin to get warm.
He looked deeply at Madison’s mother.
“Okay.”
Ian nodded.
He had no intention of entering and offering flowers.
He took one step back, then another, and saw Madison’s mother still standing at the doorway, staring at him. It made him feel a little creeped out; she looked like a hidden witch.
She just didn’t want her husband to know.
“Where should I go to find the little punk girl now?” Ian looked at his wrist. There were traces of magic on it, perhaps Madison’s mother had attempted to give him some kind of guidance.
However.
Because Ian’s body was filled with divine power, the traces of magic were purified by the divine power immediately. Ian hadn’t even had time to react at the time.
“If the little punk girl is in danger, why doesn’t she find the little punk girl herself?” Ian scratched his head, trying to activate his reasoning abilities.
However.
His Super Brain often had its own ideas.
It didn’t succeed in activating.
“I really wish I could have learned Batman’s skills earlier and known to put three or five trackers on my acquaintances,” Ian felt the reasonableness of Batman’s actions once again.
The street was bright with sunshine.
A stark contrast to Ian’s gloomy mood.
He kicked a stone as he walked, contemplating whether to ask his father, who had clairvoyance and super-hearing, for help—although this meant his father might get another scolding from the Newspaper Boss.
However, when it comes to saving someone.
Superman definitely wouldn’t refuse.
Just as Ian was about to set off.
“Looking for someone?”
A cool, clear female voice came from behind.
Ian spun around abruptly, his nose almost bumping into a pair of full breasts.
He took two steps back before he could see who was speaking—a young woman with short blonde hair, wearing a tight leather outfit, with bright red lipstick.
As if appearing out of nowhere.
Ian hadn’t detected any footsteps.
“Whoa.”
Ian’s pupils widened slightly, the golden sheen becoming more intense.
“You smell so good, like a demon’s fragrance.”
He swallowed.
This action startled the short-haired woman. Her eyes suddenly turned completely black, with no whites, like two bottomless abysses—this would usually be enough to scare a grown Strong Man to tears.
However.
It only made Ian’s eyes shine even brighter.
The short-haired woman felt an incomparably terrifying pressure.
“What exactly are you?” The short-haired woman’s black eyes quickly returned to normal. She spoke in a panicked tone and took two steps back, her High Heels sinking into a puddle by the roadside.
“Lost middle schooler?” Ian tilted his head, showing a harmless smile, “If you can help me find my classmate, I can pretend I didn’t smell the human blood on you.”
This was a blatant threat.
The short-haired woman could feel the terror when those eyes gazed at her.
She had never experienced such pure terror.
It wasn’t the fear of facing a powerful Demon Lord.
Nor was it the disgust of encountering a Paladin from Heaven, but a more primal, more fundamental shudder—like an ant suddenly realizing it was standing at the tip of a giant’s finger.
“You…”
In Ian’s eyes, she seemed to see swirling nebulae, the river of time, and her own insignificant existence within the vast universe.
Just as she was about to collapse.
The oppressive aura suddenly vanished.
“Right, what’s your name? Which Hell department do you work for? How are the field subsidies and benefits?” Ian could tell at a glance that the short-haired woman in front of him was not human.
The short-haired woman swallowed.
She didn’t answer.
But Ian didn’t care.
“Deal? Demon.”
The boy spoke softly. He knew demons wouldn’t seek him out for no reason, and knowing he was looking for someone, this demon must be connected to the little punk girl’s disappearance.
“If you’re looking for someone, follow me.” The female demon looked at Ian with surprise several times, then, after leaving a sentence, she walked directly onto the street.
Ian jogged to keep up, his backpack bouncing on his back.
They passed through winding alleys.
Walking past a butcher shop that smelled of rotting meat and three clearly non-human vagrants, Ian excitedly observed the increasingly bizarre sights around him.
Like a child visiting a zoo.
“So I don’t need to summon demons; demons are hidden everywhere in Metropolis,” Ian mused from the bottom of his heart, causing the female demon leading the way to look back at him again.
“We appeared because the disaster yesterday gave us the opportunity to do so.” The female demon didn’t know what Ian intended to do with the demon he summoned.
Her answer was somewhat disappointing to Ian.
“Then that’s not very nice.”
Ian regained his enthusiasm for inscribing demon summoning spells in his mouth.
“We’re here.”
The woman suddenly stopped.
Ian followed her gaze to the side. Before him stood a large Victorian-style manor, with live thorns wrapped around the wrought-iron gate, and fluorescent purple liquid flowing in the fountain. On the lawn in front of the main building, several humanoids in maid outfits were trimming bushes that clearly had eyeballs.
“This is the big house from my dreams!” Ian cheered, his golden pupils sparkling with excitement, “Comes with a horror theme park! Evil Gods should live in places like this!”
It’s a pity that such a place is probably not suitable for Mom and Dad.
Ian felt a slight regret.
The short-haired woman’s mouth twitched.
“Go in, the master here has been waiting for you for a long time.”
She said softly to Ian.
“Isn’t the master here your master too?” Ian was a little surprised. He had thought this female demon was just a lackey sent by some pretentious demon.
Little did he know.
“We are just in a cooperative relationship.”
After saying that.
The female demon wanted to leave.
Her expression looked like she regretted taking this job—which was understandable, given the terrifying pressure Ian had put on her, even thinking about it now made her feel lingering fear.
He even called himself an Evil God.
This made the female demon even more unwilling to get involved with such trouble.
She quickly disappeared around the street corner.
Ian didn’t stop her.
“Let me see who actually delivered themselves to my doorstep! Will they be the first to enjoy my Ultraman bomb?!” Ian pushed open the door, its hinges emitting an unnatural shriek.
Like the scream of some creature.
The boy strode inside, as if he were just going to a classmate’s house for homework.
The interior of the manor was even more luxurious than the exterior—if one ignored the paintings on the walls that blinked and the chandelier made of bones. Ian curiously poked a passing imp servant, who bared its teeth at him, but as Ian’s eyes lit up with golden light, it burrowed into the floor.
“Shy gardener.”
Ian wanted to acquire this manor for himself, wondering if the owner sold it.
At this moment.
The double doors to the reception room opened automatically.
Interrupting the plan he was formulating.
In the reception room, sunlight cast dappled shadows through the heavy curtains, and the air was filled with the scent of aged cigar and old wood. On the carpet in front of the fireplace.
A leather sofa lay quietly.
In the center of the room stood a plump man in a purple tailcoat, with his back to Ian, tuning a piano made of human bones.
“Ah! Finally, you’re here!” The plump man sprang up from the piano stool, spreading his arms as if to embrace an old friend, “I’m composing a new piece and urgently need feedback from an audience!”
Ian stood at the doorway, his golden pupils contracting slightly. His gaze swept the room—no ambush, no barriers, just an overly enthusiastic demon and a piano that looked like it was made of human bones.
“I’m here to find a friend.” Ian frowned and got straight to the point.
Crowley put on an exaggeratedly sad expression.
“Yes, yes, I know, it was all a misunderstanding.” He said with great sincerity, “Actually, I have no designs on the Sorceress Supreme’s power.”
The piano suddenly let out a piercing chord.
“He killed your son.”
A hoarse voice emerged from beneath the keys, and the air froze for a few seconds.
Crowley impatiently tapped the piano lid.
“That’s not my biological son.”
He turned to Ian and shrugged, “Adopted, impure blood, always plotting rebellion.”
The information was quite substantial.
It left Ian stunned.
“So… who exactly are you?”
He was also bewildered by the man’s enthusiastic attitude.
“Oh! How rude of me!” Crowley clapped his forehead exaggeratedly, “Call me Crowley, the current Administrator of Hell, and also an unlucky freelance.”
He gave a flamboyant bow.
This was not the scene Ian had expected.
Ian’s brows furrowed, almost flying into his hairline. He coaxed, “Shouldn’t you be asking me to pay a price? Like my soul, or something?”
Clearly.
The Evil God was still contemplating how to legitimately acquire this manor.
Upon hearing Ian’s words.
Crowley burst into laughter, his laughter mixed with sounds like demonic whispers, “My dear child, I always prefer to resolve things peacefully with those I cannot divine.”
He stepped closer, his eyes twinkling, “I’ve just logged onto Earth. Everything that happened before was due to my subordinates’ incompetence; I’ll kill them all later to liven things up.”
He said it casually, as if discussing tonight’s dinner menu.
“The matter of the Sorceress Supreme was purely a misunderstanding. I sent my subordinates to bring her here to watch the show.” With that, Crowley clapped his hands and ordered a demon to fetch Miss Madison.
He even used the word ‘fetch’.
Facing such a “polite” demon, Ian was a bit at a loss. He had the urge to directly attack, but his upbringing barely allowed him to maintain basic etiquette.
“You must be here to cause trouble, right?” Ian asked tentatively, clearly trying to find a pretext and set a trap for the other party, “Like you want to rule the universe or something?”
In response.
The mysterious demon did not fall for it.
Crowley shook his head.
He took a silver flask from his suit’s inner pocket and took a sip. “Too cliché, dear.”
He smacked his lips.
“I’ve come to watch a good show, a show about Heaven.”
Crowley said in a low voice, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light.
Ian’s brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
He also asked in a low voice.
“Of course, because Heaven is about to fall.”
Crowley’s lips curved into a mysterious smile.
He clapped his hands, and the floor of the reception room suddenly cracked open, revealing a giant transparent prison cage that slowly rose. The surface of the cage was inscribed with inverted Bible verses.
And inside the cage.
At this very moment.
Suspended was a… Black angel.
“You can ask Him what He did.”
Crowley directly lit a cigar and lay down on the sofa.
“What did he do?”
Ian moved closer to the angel.
He noticed that under the skin of this scrawny Black angel.
Something seemed to be wriggling.
1000 short, mainly because the chapter break at 18,000 words couldn’t be finished, so tomorrow I’ll directly update 17,000 words.
