"Let me start from the first time I met you operatives."

Beelzebub boiled a pot of water on the stove. They were now in a bedroom, the one usually used by the audience to rest. Although almost no one wanted to come to the theater to rest even for a short while, such a large space had to be utilized.

He Yu turned his head to look at the video being edited on the electronic screen next to him. This thing had been playing on a loop more than thirty times and was still playing. It was really helpful in regulating his mood.

It was something like a personal edit, and it started with the scene of that blood altar—he didn't remember exactly how many people had died there, but there were plenty—Beelzebub told him, "That day, a bunch of idiots broke into the dungeon and tried to cut my head off."

He wasn't referring to the operatives' reckless behavior, of course, but things quickly got interesting.

It was a carnage, extremely violent and bloody, yet exhilarating, like an unstoppable war machine, intent on destroying everything in its path.

But in the second half, the pace became somewhat tiring. The endless battle ended, and Beelzebub sat on the altar full of severed limbs, calmly slaughtering all the outsiders as easily as killing pigs. The scene was incredibly cruel and decisive, it was practically a classic American TV series.

The video went viral in both the old and new cities as soon as it appeared, and was played several times on the giant screen in front of the castle. It also began to generate derivative variations, becoming a sensation throughout Jerusalem.

The audience wants to find that unknown producer and offer him a lucrative job; this person is definitely a talent.

The moment Beelzebub saw the video, she knew who had done it; their personal characteristics were too obvious. Even though she tried to hide it, they were just too familiar with each other.

He thought that she could get a big gift from him through this, but she didn't say a word, probably because she didn't want anyone to know.

So he never mentioned that the residents, who were trying to find joy in their suffering, couldn't find her.

She probably just wants to be a fan again and rediscover some of the fun she used to have. Lilith used to do these things just for fun, but now they've become a nightmare for some people.

Perhaps she wanted to express her gratitude to those who allowed her to remember Jerusalem in this way.

That was really boring, even though he himself wanted to do something to thank them, the great operatives who had stole their world, entered with equally great instructions, and then died in this illusion.

He actually quite liked that kind of unconditional obedience and tyranny. What was that saying again? It was like a bright light piercing through the darkness, so damn noble.

“From that day on, you’ve been coming in droves.” Beelzebub glanced at the screen, his gaze mainly fixed on Lilith humming a song on the screen. He realized he couldn’t remember the last time she was singing and rambling.

The subsequent massacres were large-scale, and she would sometimes take time to help, but she would look like she had no will to live all day long.

“I don’t understand why you want to disturb our lives. Jerusalem didn’t just appear out of nowhere in three months. It’s been with us all our lives. Who knows there’s such a big world out there?”

One day, he saw her sitting alone in a corner crying. He pretended not to see her because he didn't know what to say, and even if he did, Lilith wouldn't listen.

That night she wrote them letter after letter—he glanced at the envelopes she had torn up and picked up again; that night she wrote a total of 427 letters that no one could possibly receive.

Beelzebub thought that Lilith had been stubborn and impractical since she was a child, and that she couldn't get along with reality. She just loved to fantasize and thought that everyone's ending was happy.

When she was a child, she once held a birthday party. She was careful and planned to publicize it everywhere, hoping that everyone in the city would come to celebrate her birthday together, but Andrew lost the invitation.

He clearly remembered that day when she pulled him to sit at the table and pointed to the blank notebook.

She spoke with such conviction about how she planned to bring about the rebirth of Jerusalem, and how she would take the first step, as if she had some kind of world-changing plan on paper. So Beelzebub tried to act as if he had seen it all and that this was what he should do.

For a long time afterward, whenever she mentioned that plan, she would act as if the future would be wonderful and a time of universal celebration.

She liked to let pain and despair disappear from her life in this way.

Even as she grew up, she often joked about it, as if she had matured over time and was able to cope with the absurd reality.

But at that time, that night, her room floor was covered with destroyed letters.

Every day, every night, and even sporadically during the day, it begins to torment the mind like a mad obsession.

She could no longer mature, nor could she bear it; she reverted to being that child, trying to use the same tricks on her life.

Stubborn, naive, and a daydreamer, but Beelzebub is of no help whatsoever; all he does is kill, kill those operatives who try to tell them how terrifying the outside world is.

So he said nothing, went back to his room and drank all night until he fell asleep. This made solving the problem much easier, at least much simpler than killing someone.

“I know that kind of tactic, that kind of rhetoric, it’s all about controlling an unstable population, right? So what are you going to do? Kill us all. You should know that the physical form of Jerusalem is just a book, and you are all in that book right now. And the key… is Lilith.”

In this fake world, there's only one thing you can do—try to get through each day. If you find it too hard, have a barrel of whiskey. If that's not enough, add something to the whiskey. Or go to New Town for Andrew Li's baptism, or go to the outskirts for some fun, where there are mutated creatures that can kill you.

They may have long been accustomed to the story's end and intend to continue as it is.

And this is the only law of survival: after the monsters have finished their revelry, they grieve and suffer, hiding in the dark world to lick each other's wounds, and then continue killing, repeating the cycle.

Until it is completely under control.

“There’s a world hidden inside that game coin.” He Yu watched the video for a while, but quickly lost interest: “As for the size… well, it could easily fit a few cities inside.”

“That’s what I’m going to ask next.” Beelzebub paused, poured boiling water into a cup, and added a few spoonfuls of honey. It was hard to imagine that he didn’t drink alcohol. “Why, why did you come to help us?”

"Isn't fulfilling Eoubs's orders the standard for every operative? If there's a reason, it's for the sake of all humanity. Everyone uses such a ridiculous excuse. What is your excuse?"

“I’m doing this for a win-win situation.” He Yu took a breath, and the next second, a monster with a dog’s head and a snake’s body emerged from the shadows beneath his feet: “Is that reason enough?”