He Yu hummed a tune as he returned to the banquet, took off his blood-stained dress, and put it on the sofa. A waiter walked up to him, smiled, and handed him a glass of expensive wine.
A few people nearby glanced over, then remained silent. At this point, no one could say anything; everyone was equally despicable and perverted. Besides, it was perfectly normal for blood-stained clothes to appear at such a banquet; even if a human head were thrown in, it wouldn't matter.
News of the two dismembered bodies in the bathroom quickly spread around them. He Yu overheard the guests whispering about how the morning banquet had only just begun, and someone had already acted so violently.
Of course, there were cameras everywhere at the banquet, and Beelzebub was sometimes watching on the other side of the screen, but at this moment, no one could be protected outside the rules of the play.
Because here, the massacre is necessary, in accordance with the laws of survival in Jerusalem, and endorsed by all the dead.
The blood-stained dress still lay on the pristine white dining table, untouched. It stood out against the backdrop of the exquisite food, tableware, and guests. If Pandora were here, she would surely have taken a close-up shot.
One of the idiots who was flirting with the waiter just ten minutes ago got agitated and started grabbing other customers, asking who did it. But everyone acted all gentlemanly and ignored him.
He Yu could understand the reason for that guy's fear—there were people talking not far away. First, they discussed who killed him, and then they said that no matter who did it, there was now one less person in the host position. Connorson's pets were quite good-looking, and there should be quite a few people watching them at the moment.
Those men stood not far from the gate, their faces grim and their eyes extremely wary.
By this time, everyone began to realize that everyone who appeared at the banquet was a troublemaker. Losing even one member of one's own faction would have a significant impact, let alone these powerful and influential people.
He Yu took a plate of pastries, ate them slowly and carefully, then picked up a knife and tapped his wine glass.
He knocked several times before the people in the hall stopped talking and turned to look in the direction of the sound.
"Excuse me, I'd like to interrupt, but I just overheard someone asking who did the dismembered body in the bathroom the other day." He swallowed a pastry and then said, "I killed him. Any objections?"
He turned to look at a bewildered waiter, who paused for a few seconds, then smiled and nodded, indicating that he hadn't heard anything.
Everyone was staring in that direction. He took another sip of his drink and continued, "Actually, there's no real reason. I've never really liked those two idiots. Even though Weeks has great taste in partners, and they're both as good-looking as me, I've heard that people often end up in hospitals or labs after sleeping with someone. Have you ever heard the saying that people with strong personalities all go to hell?"
The people around him looked at him with expressions of complete incomprehension and disbelief. Just then, one of Weeks' male companions—whose name he obviously didn't know—rushed from behind with a kitchen knife.
He ran up to He Yu, raised his hand menacingly as if to do something, but suddenly fell to the ground and couldn't get up for a while.
Then, everyone around noticed that the guy was clutching his neck tightly, and blood was flowing out of his artery, quickly staining the carpet red.
He Yu's position had changed; looking down at him, no one could see how he moved.
The man struggled to get up again, and the people around him immediately made way for him so that he could do as he pleased, while also avoiding the possibility of getting his clothes dirty.
Someone stepped on his back, and he fell to the ground again.
While He Yu was doing these things, the wine in his glass didn't even shake, and he had a calm and expressionless look. Coupled with that blood-stained shirt, it was a level of perversion that reached a whole new level.
Another person tried to pounce, but he quickly met the same fate, falling to the ground and struggling desperately. The first person then stabbed him in the eye socket with a kitchen knife, and within seconds the man went limp and stopped moving.
The last person realized something and turned to run away. He Yu had no choice but to put down his cup, grab something from the table, and smash it on the man's head—it was a gold cup. The fugitive fell to the ground and started crying.
He walked over slowly and continued, "I also dislike Connorson's sycophantic attitude towards the powerful and wealthy; he's far too smug. I know you're all used to it, and sometimes you even speak up for these boring people on stage. I don't like those speeches; they're too genuine, as if those plays and banquets are so noble, and the people who die in them can be so happy."
As he spoke, he grabbed the guy's head and slammed it against the ground. In fact, the guy died after just one slam. His head was smashed to pieces, and blood and brain matter were everywhere.
He Yu stood up and straightened his clothes. He really liked this outfit and didn't want to get too dirty even when he was killing people.
Around him, a group of bewildered dignitaries watched him complete this small-scale killing spree. After a few seconds of deathly silence, someone whistled merrily.
Just then, laughter came from not far away. People glanced in that direction and tacitly made way for the director in charge of the theater's operations, who walked over with a kind face.
This man is called Angel. He Yu had heard Connorson mention him before. He was Lilith's handpicked director, an essential character for the opening of Beelzebub's play—in reality, it was just about choosing a few unlucky guys to go in and die.
“It’s wonderful to see such talent in Jerusalem.” Angel, who was quite tall and had a baby face, looked at him with excitement: “He not only has innovative ideas about the direction of the banquet, but also possesses first-class killing skills.”
No one paid him any attention. The group felt they couldn't get a word in edgewise, and He Yu was too lazy to talk to a dead man, but he did need a new coat.
Angel continued with a smile, "Here, I'd like to take this opportunity to say that everyone should feel free to vent their frustrations on the waiters. Those mutated creatures will only give you one feeling no matter what you do with them. Beelzebub will provide unlimited medical care, drinks, and clothing, becoming your omnipresent support."
He smiled gently, seemingly unconcerned that blood had already flowed down to his shoes, and continued, "Sir, I will send you a few more new clothes of the same style."
He Yu glanced at his own dress, then stared at the other person for a while before realizing that the director's outfit seemed to have better taste. So he gave him a bright smile and said, "I think you're right."
"What do you mean?" Angel immediately replied, smiling at him with an unusually friendly smile. In fact, you often encounter this kind of smile once you've integrated into the upper echelons.
He Yu raised an eyebrow and looked at them innocently. The conversation in the banquet hall instantly ceased. Everyone belatedly covered their necks, but it was too late.
"Of course you'll all go to hell with us."
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