What followed was quite cliché: the group introduced themselves. The guy who looked like a nobleman was called Gikono, and a long-haired man called himself Number Three. He clearly thought he was going to die and didn't need to leave any real trace.

If this were modern society, these people would definitely exchange cigarettes and chat about random things, but now they're just complaining.

Fuck this theatrical performance. Why not just call everyone together and have a wild brawl? This childish role-playing thing is so grandiose. They must have nothing better to do.

He Yu ignored them and sat at the entrance of the cell, looking around the hall. Not long after, something came down from the corridor and said softly, "Congratulations, you lowly sacrifices. Now I need a lucky one to appear on the altar."

Everyone remained silent, trying to see Beelzebub's face clearly, but the thing wore an iron mask, and apart from its somewhat reddened eyes, nothing could be seen.

But at this moment, this unknown thing holds the lives of everyone in its hands.

He Yu stared unabashedly into its eyes. Looking at the mockery in those eyes, he suddenly wondered what this creature, born from formalism, was thinking. Did it know that it had exhausted all its energy to do everything, yet it was just a defective product for people to amuse themselves?

It slowly walked to the cell, its eyes staring intently at them, before finally shaking its head in disinterest and heading towards another cell.

A few minutes passed, and Beelzebub walked through all the cells, stopping to look at each one for a while before leaving. He seemed to enjoy the process, finding pleasure in the most terrifying atmosphere.

Finally, it returned to He Yu's room, stretched out its hand, and pointed to a person.