THIRD PERSON'S POV

"Why haven't you attacked her yet? Why haven't you taken any steps?" the First Elder snapped, his voice laced with frustration. His boots clapped sharply against the stone floor as he paced back and forth, his movements agitated and restless. Veins bulged at his temples, anger seething beneath his skin.

Ice, who had been calmly watching the Elder, leaned back in his chair. His gaze was icy, as cold and calculating as his name suggested. "We can’t rush," he said coolly, unfazed by the Elder’s outburst. "Everything is ready. I'm just waiting for the right timing."

"Timing?" the Elder barked, his patience snapping like a brittle thread. "Demon is building the Tower of Hell! Are you going to wait for her to finish it before you act?" His fists clenched tightly, the anger vibrating through his entire body as he glared at Ice.

Ice's eyes narrowed, a glimmer of annoyance flashing briefly in his expression. "You’re too eager," he said, his voice turning sharp. "If you're that desperate, why don’t you do it? Go ahead, attack Demon. Try to kill her. Let’s see if you can even get within fifty meters of her."

The Elder’s face contorted, but he had no retort. Even with his rage, he couldn’t deny the truth in Ice’s words. Demon was a force unlike anything they had ever faced—brutal, clever, and utterly lethal. Her power was beyond anything they had expected.

Ice’s hatred for Demon was undeniable. He wanted her dead just as much as anyone, but he wasn’t a fool. He had seen what she was capable of—seen her manipulate, destroy, and rebuild the world on her terms. This wasn’t a battle he could fight recklessly.

"We’ll wait for the right moment," Ice said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "Don’t make me regret accepting this task."

The Elder stopped pacing, his jaw tightening. "Don't make us regret choosing you." He spat the words like venom before storming out, the door slamming behind him.

The room fell into tense silence, the echo of the Elder's footsteps fading into the distance. Ice sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, when suddenly, a voice sliced through the quiet.

"They couldn’t kill Demon, so they ordered you?" Lux’s voice was light, but her words carried a razor-sharp edge. She leaned against the wall, sipping from a cup of coffee as if she hadn’t a care in the world. "They put you in the lab, ran all those experiments on you to make you stronger, like her... You’re just their guinea pig."

Ice’s hand curled into a fist, his knuckles turning white as he snapped back. "Shut up! If that’s the only way to kill her, then so be it." His eyes burned with fury, the weight of everything—the experiments, the pressure, the hatred—pressing down on him. He had to be the one to end Demon, whatever it took.

"By the way, are you here to help me?" Ice’s anger simmered beneath his skin, but Lux remained calm, almost amused by his desperation.

"Of course not," she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm. She took another sip of coffee, her gaze steady on Ice. "Why would I kill the person my younger brother died for? If Demon dies, Conan’s sacrifice would be for nothing."

Ice stiffened at the mention of Conan. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darkening. "Then why are you here, Lux? To mock me?"

Lux shrugged, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Free coffee?" she teased, swirling the liquid in her cup. Her eyes flickered with amusement before her expression sobered. "Or maybe I’m hiding. You think Demon has more enemies than supporters, but you’re wrong. The world may want her dead, but her followers will kill anyone who even thinks of opposing her. If you’re serious about taking her down, start by cutting off her support. Go after the ones who shield her, who do her bidding." Her gaze darkened. "You can’t touch her until you’ve consumed every one of her minions."

Ice’s mind whirred, Lux’s words sinking in deeper than he wanted to admit. She wasn’t wrong. Demon’s strength wasn’t just in her power—it was in the legion of people willing to die for her, those who believed in her vision, her twisted idea of the world.

"Are you done with your speech?" Ice said, his voice tense, but his eyes betrayed the gears turning in his mind. Lux had given him something to think about, a path forward that hadn’t occurred to him. He hated how right she was.

"Take it or leave it," Lux said with a shrug, turning to leave. "But if you really want to kill Demon... start with those who stand in your way."

As Lux walked away, Ice's grip on the chair tightened. Demon was the one pulling the strings, and he was the one tasked with ending her reign. But before he could touch her, he had to dismantle her entire kingdom, piece by bloody piece.

Ice stood there in the echoing silence, the weight of his mission pressing down on him like a heavy fog. Demon... The name echoed in his mind like a death sentence.

If he wanted to kill her, he'd have to burn her world to the ground first.

DEMON'S POV

Hmmm. I feel... off. Don’t tell me I’m the topic of someone’s conversation right now.

"Watch this," one of my underlings said, pointing at the screen. Red dots started flickering across the map, spreading in various areas like a virus. "These are the people rebelling against you. Their numbers are increasing by the hour."

I stared at the screen, unbothered. Pathetic little insects. They think they can revolt? Let them try.

"Leave them," I said, dismissing the map with a wave of my hand. "They’re too insignificant to waste my time on. A few discontented souls won’t topple me. What’s more important—any news of another country making a move against us?"

"The seas are calm," my underling reported. "There’s no sign of an enemy fleet, but the White Monarchy remains vigilant in case of an attack."

Impressive. I hadn’t even issued direct orders, yet they were already fortifying their defenses. I chose them well—each one a precise piece in my game of power.

"There’s something else, though." The underling hesitated, his tone growing more serious. "We just received a report. A unit of the White Monarchy stationed in the northern territories... vanished. They disappeared without a trace."

"Vanished?" I raised an eyebrow. "Not killed?"

"Yes, Demon," he replied. "No bodies. No signs of struggle. It’s suspected they were captured by an enemy force."

Captured? My lips curled into a twisted smile. There’s only one person who could pull off something like that.

"Maniego..." I muttered under my breath. "He’s finally making his move."

"And there’s more," the underling continued, his voice shaking slightly. "Several bodies were found... but they didn’t die in combat. It looks like... they committed suicide."

What?

I turned to face him fully, my eyes narrowing. "Suicide? Why would they do that?"

"It’s believed they killed themselves to prevent being used against you, Demon. The enemy's plan seems to be clear—they want to deplete your forces until you’re left alone, isolated. They can’t reach you directly, not with the layers of protection you’ve built around yourself."

A low chuckle escaped my lips. Cowards. But the strategy was clever. Sacrifice the pawns, chip away at my army, hoping to leave me vulnerable. Maniego must be desperate to resort to such petty tricks. I couldn't deny the intelligence behind it though; he knew he couldn't face me head-on, so he sought to wear me down.

I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands beneath my chin. "Continue to build our forces. Increase the numbers where we’re weak. Tell them—" I paused, my voice lowering to a deadly whisper, "to fight and not to die."

"Understood!" they barked in unison, saluting before hurrying back to their stations.

I turned my gaze to the screen again, my fingers drumming on the armrest. Oh, Maniego... I didn’t think you’d start by devouring my underlings. Do you really think you’ll be able to handle me once you’ve eliminated them?

A cruel smile tugged at my lips. How amusing... I allowed him to grow stronger, let him survive to that lab so I could one day crush him at his peak, watch him crumble at the height of his arrogance. And yet, even after all these years, he was still playing like a weak little boy, nibbling at the edges of my empire instead of coming for me directly.

"Maniego..." I whispered, my voice venomous. "You’re nothing but a weak creature. You should never have been trusted with the masks. You’re just another failure, pretending you can match me."

I had let him grow, thinking he might eventually offer me a real challenge. But now? Now, I wasn’t so sure. If this was his best attempt at taking me down—consuming my forces one by one—he had already lost.

I stood up, walking toward the wide glass window overlooking the dark city below. My reflection stared back at me, cold and powerful. The Tower of Hell was rising, my masterpiece—an unstoppable monument to my reign. Maniego might chip away at my army, but in the end, it wouldn’t matter.

Let them come. Let them all come. They could destroy every soldier, every underling, but they would never touch me.

I would burn the world before they laid a finger on me.

And when Maniego finally stood before me—broken, desperate—I would remind him why I am called Demon.

---

"Hello, Salvy..."

I watched as his eyes subtly rolled. It was amusing—how he thought he could hide it from me. Haha, I want to pluck them out for that.

I glanced around the room, grinning widely as I saw the complete assembly of the people I had carefully placed in their positions. This is how it’s supposed to be.

Leaders who weren’t corrupt, who actually cared about the people they governed. A department of health run by someone who actually understood health. Agriculture overseen by someone who knew how to feed a nation. Professionals, real professionals, not puppets. I had built this from the ground up, and now, it was all under my control.

One of them, a nervous-looking man I appointed to manage trade, cleared his throat before speaking.

"Dear Demon, a neighboring country is begging us to allow them passage so they can transport their crops through our land to continue their trade."

I leaned back, considering it for only a moment. "No. But if they insist, they’ll pay three times the usual toll."

I smirked, watching the shock ripple through the room. This is how we benefit. They could pass through my country, sure—but they'd pay heavily for the privilege. The neighboring countries feared me too much to refuse. It was a win-win. If they wanted to keep their businesses afloat, they had no other choice.

I pointed to the man responsible for education, catching him off guard. He practically jumped out of his seat.

"You!" I snapped.

"Yes, Demon?" he replied, his voice trembling, though he managed to stay composed.

"Fix the education system in this country—it’s a disaster."

"How do you want me to fix it?" he asked, gathering his courage.

I narrowed my eyes. "Tell me your plan."

He stood and carefully laid out his vision, detailing improvements in curriculum, teacher training, and funding strategies.

Impressive, I thought as I listened. I really did pick well.

"I want every school, private or public, to have the same level of education—no one should be ahead, no one should fall behind. The youth are the future, and it’s your responsibility to ensure they’re shaped properly. Education should be free, from start to finish."

I paused, expecting someone to object, but no one dared—at least, not yet.

"That’s not impossible, but the funding—" one of them began to say.

"Oh, don’t worry about funding," I interrupted, waving my hand dismissively. "The big corporations will sponsor every school. They have enough wealth—if they don’t want to take it with them to their graves, they’ll invest in the future of this country."

I turned my gaze to the leader of the health department. "And at the hospitals, I want all doctors working 12-hour shifts. No exceptions."

"But, Demon—" he started to protest.

"No buts. Patients shouldn’t have to wait for hours for a doctor to arrive. I don’t care what your reason is, I want doctors in hospitals for 12 hours a day."

"You don’t understand the complexity—" he tried again, but I cut him off with a smile.

"I don’t need to understand," I said softly. "I just need it done."

He fell silent, knowing better than to argue further.

"And one more thing," I added, my voice cold and casual. "All criminals with rape charges—kill them."

The room went utterly still. All eyes turned to me, wide with disbelief. Ah, how thrilling.

"Drugs are banned, and anyone caught with them? Kill them too. And not just a clean death—I want it painful. I want it public. Let everyone see so no one dares follow in their footsteps. At the same time, make sure everyone has a job. Crime stems from poverty, and poverty from unemployment. Educated or not, people should have work. And while we’re at it, lower the qualifications for these jobs. Let more people in."

I waited for the murmurs of protest, the outrage at the impossibility of my orders, but none came. They knew better. They feared me too much to object.

MR. SALVADOR'S POV

What the hell...

Demon gave her orders so casually, as if every word wasn’t an impossible demand. Did she even realize what she was asking for? Of course not. Why would she care? She wasn’t the one who had to make it happen. It was easy for her to dictate when she didn’t have to do the work.

I watched her as she spoke, and all I could see was Vladimir in her. Her vision for the country was laughable, a madwoman’s dream. If anyone else had uttered these words, people would laugh, dismissing them as fantasies. But with Demon, nothing was impossible. That’s what made her terrifying.

The difference between her and Vladimir...

Vladimir still had lines he wouldn’t cross. He still played within the rules of power, feared the repercussions of pushing too far. But Demon? She feared nothing. She’d burn the world if it meant achieving her vision.

She gave her orders with a smile, her voice almost sweet as she condemned lives to death, demanded the impossible, and reshaped the country according to her whims. And everyone listened—because with her, the impossible became reality. That was her power.

As She spoke, her voice rang through the room, calm but commanding. I watched as every person around the table nodded obediently, even when they knew the things she demanded were nothing short of madness.

Kill all criminals with rape charges? Doctors working 12-hour shifts? Public executions for drug offenders? I could feel the weight of her words pressing down on me. Each order was like a stone added to the pile on my back. The tension in the room was suffocating, but I held my tongue. Everyone did.

I glanced around, observing the leaders she had chosen, the same ones I once thought of as competent. Now, they were reduced to mere puppets, nodding along, too afraid to challenge her. Their fear was palpable. Mine too.

But I couldn’t help but wonder—what was going on in their minds? Were they all like me? Sitting here, silent, not out of loyalty, but out of sheer terror? Was anyone brave enough to think that this might be the beginning of the end?

Vladimir... I thought of him, my mind drifting to the man who once sat where she sits now. He was ruthless, but he had a limit. He knew how to play the game, to work within the confines of reason. But Demon... She doesn't care. She was going to burn everything down if it meant getting what she wanted.

My eyes returned to her. She looked pleased with herself, smiling as if she’d just gifted us the keys to paradise, when in reality, she’d handed us the tools of our own destruction.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” she asked, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “We’re building a world where everything is... as it should be.”

Her words echoed, and I felt a chill run down my spine. As it should be? By whose standards? Hers? This wasn’t a utopia she was building—it was a prison, a slaughterhouse. And we were the cattle lining up for the slaughter.

She turned to me then, her gaze piercing. "Salvy, don’t you agree?"

I forced a smile, though my insides churned. “Of course, Demon. Everything will be as you’ve envisioned.”

Her eyes lingered on me, narrowing slightly, as if searching for the lie in my words. For a moment, I wondered if she could see the truth beneath my forced smile. Could she feel the resentment bubbling up inside me, the quiet rebellion?

But then she smiled, satisfied, and looked away. "Good."

As the meeting continued, my mind wandered to Vladimir again. If he were here, would he be proud of what his daughter had become? Or would he be horrified, watching her tear apart the very nation he had helped build?

The room finally began to clear, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stayed seated long after everyone had left, staring at the table. How did it come to this?

I had always known Demon was dangerous, but seeing her in action, commanding lives with a flick of her hand, I realized just how deep we were in. She wasn’t just a force of nature; she was something worse.

I stood up slowly, my mind swirling with the weight of her impossible demands. I had a country to run, and now I had to do it under the shadow of a woman who seemed to want nothing more than to tear it all down.

As I walked out of the room, I whispered under my breath, “Vladimir... you created this monster, and now we’re all paying the price.”

DEMON'S POV

Hehehe. I was just kidding about those orders, but seeing their faces, all serious and grim, makes me smile. Salvador looks like he’s aged another ten years in just the last hour—wrinkles deepening, eyes hollow. Poor guy, stressed out by my whims.

Don’t worry, Salvy, I think. This will all be over soon.

I left the meeting room, and an underling rushed over to me, panting heavily, eyes wide with panic.

“There’s been an ambush on the west side, Demon. Ten of our men are dead. Twenty more are wounded.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Get the car ready. I want to meet the brave fool who dared to fight me.”

Without hesitation, the underling rushed to comply. As I walked toward the parking lot, I spotted a sleek red sports car waiting for me, its driver casually leaning against the hood.

“Need a ride?” Clyde smirked, holding the door open for me. His tone was playful, but I knew he’d forced the underling to bring this car out, likely scaring the poor guy out of his wits.

I glanced at the trembling underling, then back at Clyde. “Stop terrorizing my people,” I said, brushing past him to slide into the backseat.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Always so cold, Demon.” He got into the driver's seat, revving the engine. “Where to?”

“West. There was an ambush. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch whoever’s responsible.”

Clyde grinned. “Then buckle up. We’ll be there in no time.”

I fastened my seatbelt as Clyde floored the gas, sending the car flying through the streets at breakneck speed. Apart from running the Nerraw company and managing Dark Shadow, Clyde was an accomplished F1 racer, with gold medals to prove it. His driving was as reckless as it was efficient. The streets blurred past us in a dizzying rush.

*Weewoo, weewoo.*

Great. Sirens. Clyde had attracted the attention of the police by ignoring every traffic law in existence. Typical.

“Tell me if you’re getting dizzy. I’ve got meds in the glovebox,” he said, his voice light with amusement.

“No need,” I replied coolly. His driving might be intense, but Venom was worse. Clyde wouldn’t shake me.

*Bang!*

"Oops," Clyde muttered, as a bullet grazed the windshield.

"Extra gun?" I asked, undoing my seatbelt, my eyes narrowing as I prepared to deal with the cops.

"Left side, in the compartment. Take your pick."

I opened the compartment and was greeted with a stash of guns—everything from pistols to assault rifles. Without wasting time, I grabbed the first one my hand landed on.

*Bang, bang, bang!*

Bullseye. Three perfect shots, and all of the police cars’ tires blew out, sending them swerving to a halt. They wouldn’t be following us.

"It's a miracle you didn’t kill them," Clyde remarked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“They’re not on my list. Not yet.”

He laughed and pressed harder on the accelerator. Within the hour, just as promised, we reached the destination—a remote mountain camp. The scene that greeted me was chaos. My wounded underlings were huddled near the trees, some clutching makeshift bandages, while further up the hill, I could see the enemy, picking through the supplies my men had been transporting.

“Demon, we failed. They took us by surprise.” One of my underlings, bleeding from a leg wound, limped toward me, shame written all over his face.

I smiled, patting his head like a scolded child. “It’s fine. This is perfect, actually. My body’s been craving a little violence.”

I turned my head toward Clyde, who stood by the car, arms crossed, watching with that smug look of his.

“Don’t interfere,” I commanded, cracking my knuckles.

He chuckled, bowing slightly. “As you wish, Demon.”

I moved toward the camp, the air thick with tension. The enemy was oblivious to my presence, too busy raiding the supplies to notice me. I walked up casually, not hiding, not rushing. My footsteps echoed through the trees.

When they finally spotted me, one of them raised his weapon. “It’s her!” he shouted, panic rising in his voice. “It’s Demon!”

I grinned. “At least you recognize who’s about to kill you.”

Without warning, I lunged forward, my fist slamming into the first man’s throat. He gasped, falling to the ground, clawing at his neck. The others hesitated for just a second, but it was enough.

Bang! I disarmed the next one with a quick shot to his hand, his gun clattering to the ground. I closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, delivering a brutal kick to his chest that sent him crashing into a tree.

More of them came at me, swinging knives and bats like amateurs. I dodged effortlessly, laughing as I weaved between them. One lunged with a blade aimed for my ribs, but I caught his wrist, twisting until I heard the satisfying crack of bone. He screamed, and I slammed his face into the dirt.

The remaining men hesitated, fear in their eyes. Good. They should be afraid.

“Come on,” I taunted, stepping over the fallen bodies. “Is this the best you’ve got?”

One man tried to run. Foolish. I drew my gun, taking aim, and fired a single shot into his leg. He collapsed, screaming in agony.

I stalked toward him, pressing the barrel of the gun to his forehead. “Running won’t save you.”

“Please... please don’t—”

*Bang.*

His blood splattered across the ground. I stood there for a moment, savoring the chaos around me. This... this was what I was made for.

I turned back to Clyde, who was watching with mild amusement, leaning against the car. “All done?”

I smiled, wiping the blood from my hands. “For now. Let’s go. We’ve got more work to do.”