Number Three approached He Yu, thinking about the terrifying, machine-like creature in the darkness, and suddenly felt ridiculous.
The scene was all too familiar. When he was pushed onto the stage, he felt as if his life had undergone a major change—even though he was just like a dog, chained around the neck, performing for the amusement of those in power, this was Jerusalem, after all, with honor and praise, blessings from the crowned, banquets, and an endless supply of delicious food. But at this moment, like that mutated creature that emerged from a nightmare, he realized that he was actually the same.
They all come from the same place and have never left, trapped in this absurdly large play.
When the New City riots occurred, Beelzebub's handling of the situation was extreme and horrifying. The entire region was almost completely wiped out, and the population loss is estimated to be still ongoing. Even now, mutated creatures roam the darkness, and no one knows what those things were before—a moth, a dog, or a child.
Of course, he could have used other methods, such as having Andrew throw the rebels into the cycle of reincarnation, or using poison gas, biochemical viruses, or other methods that could kill the entire world with just a tiny bit of them. But I don't know which bastard came up with the idea of using a mutated gene virus made from his own flesh and blood.
That thing rapidly causes cell mutations, turning the host into a deformed, bloodthirsty monster that only wants to eat anything alive; sometimes, if no one else is around, it will even gnaw on houses.
Then another clever fellow suggested dividing all the areas of the old and new city apart—after all, nobody liked Beelzebub's utterly terrible scripts, so he could just mess around in one place and leave the rest to the more respectable priests.
Then things get really interesting. No matter which hell you're in, whatever crawls over from the other side, drooling and having just swallowed a bunch of human flesh, could be an insect, a dog, a rat, or even your family and friends.
Inside the castles of New Town and Beelzebub, everything that happens is a restricted monster movie, a real death show, but with more deaths, more despair, and more real, making that garbage play even more entertaining.
It's hilarious! In the dazzling, decadent polar night, countless cheap, suffering beings are running and screaming in the dark dungeons and cities... Perhaps that's not quite right, but the audience doesn't want the lights to go out; they want to see more details.
All the creatures that appear in the play are from that time. Beelzebub even added the ambiguous word "sacrifice," because he didn't know who he was going to worship. Andrei, that stubborn guy, only had one true god in his eyes. As for others... he was the Lord of the Flies and didn't need anyone's worship. He did what he thought was fun.
Number Three felt as if he were walking on a passageway, on a road that stretched far into the distant future, with no end in sight.
Regardless of the outcome, regardless of who lives or dies, he hoped those things would end as soon as possible.
He Yu looked at him; he was filthy, with bloodstains on his cuffs and the hem of his clothes, from when Krett died.
"Hmm... okay, there's really nothing to explain right now."
His expression was even quite calm, no different from anyone else who wanted to open up to you.
After saying that, he immediately snapped Number Three's neck.
Beelzebub stared in disbelief at the scene on the screen, guessing that the audience was also filled with shock, unsure of what had just happened.
"You beast, you call me a pervert? You're the one who's really the most daring one."
The chat panel at the bottom of the screen kept refreshing. There must be someone arguing and demanding that he kill that bastard right now in the most miserable way—the theater's investors don't need him, so this information is completely meaningless.
Besides, that person was already in a play; how tragic could he possibly be?
A big bottle of wine would solve the problem for those fans, or they could just swallow a bullet and die for love. Beelzebub thought, so what if a popular character died? Ghiknox is finished too. The two of them can make a perfect couple now. How wonderful.
Despite his thoughts, he still had to make the trip himself. The instigator's purpose was now clear, and he, as the planner, had no reason to avoid it.
When Beelzebub arrived at the dungeon, He Yu had just finished smoking his last cigarette.
Seeing someone staring at him, he gave the newcomer a bright smile and said, "Celebrity lookalike, finally can't sit still, huh?"
"The reason I came here is simply to give you a few words of abuse and vent my frustration."
Beelzebub glanced back at Number Three, whose neck had been mostly torn off, and cursed, "Damn it, how crazy are you? Why did you have to kill them all? When did Eoubs start having operatives like you who don't think like normal people?"
He Yu jumped off the altar and threw the cigarette butt into Marden's head. There was a dent there, and blood was still oozing out, making it perfect for extinguishing the cigarette: "Well said, but your script is really terrible. Anyway, all these people are going to die in the end. I just made it happen sooner."
“Hmm, that makes sense.” Upon hearing this, Beelzebub’s somewhat distorted expression instantly returned to normal: “Just say what you want to do.”
"cooperate."
"Incompatible".
"There's no other way then. You should go back, or you can kill me, but I'll keep causing trouble until no one watches your lousy play anymore."
He Yu wasn't in a hurry. He was just trying it out anyway. Who said that the only way to determine if a forbidden substance was successfully controlled was by strangulation? 252 was sent to Eoubs unharmed.
"Listen, in your language, Jerusalem today is merely a defective product of a forbidden object. I can tell you without reservation that the true form of 346 is actually an untitled book, because before the record was completed... what is this thing?"
Before Beelzebub could even finish his sentence, his attention was drawn to the game coin that He Yu had found.
“Why don’t you take a look at the secrets inside?” He shrugged and tossed over the World Key that 252 had given him. “I think you’ll like it.”
The latter thought for a moment, less than ten seconds, then calmly put the game coins into his pocket, cleared his throat and said, "Then I won't bother with the prisoners' matter."
He Yu's smile suddenly turned dangerous: "If you keep spouting this nonsense, believe me, I'll tear your skin off right now and stuff it into the brains of these idiots on the ground to make paper cranes for them to play with?"
Beelzebub thought to himself, "I suppose you're something else. Who told you to give so much? You're just a dog that Eoubs raised, yet you think you can cause trouble. You're such an idiot."
"I can hear what you're thinking."
"Then I'm sorry."
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