Divine Spear Bureau, Circular Fortress
Wearing a white lab coat and black-rimmed glasses, Robert, looking every bit the scholarly gentleman, walked into Director Miguel's office.
Miguel, who was pruning an orchid, turned his head slightly. "Have a seat. There's tea in the pot—just brewed Longjing Tea."
Robert sat on the sofa, poured himself a cup, and, since he needed a favor, thoughtfully poured a cup for Miguel as well.
Miguel finished tending to the plant, wiped his hands with a moist towel, and leisurely joined Robert, sitting on his left.
"My application—any result?" Robert asked after sipping his tea.
"So impatient!" Miguel glared at him.
At those words, Robert seemed to drift off into thought, then smiled faintly. "Director Miguel... I just want to make progress!"
He chuckled, as if reminiscing about some distant memory.
"Still so unserious…" Miguel sighed. "HQ has approved your request. From now on, you'll be the head of our Americas Division. Your job: rebuild the intel network over there."
The smile faded from Robert's face. Behind the lenses, his eyes gleamed with a trace of satisfaction.
He calmly finished his tea, set the cup down, and asked seriously, "What's the bottom line?"
Miguel also put down his cup and met Robert's gaze solemnly. "Remember where you're from. Aside from that…"
"No restrictions."
Robert could no longer hide the joy in his eyes. A smirk slowly formed at the corner of his lips.
"Alright, I'll go handle the handover." He stood up, almost too eager.
Watching him walk off cheerfully, Miguel shook his head with a smile.
Moments later, the door opened again. A tall, graceful woman with waterfall-like black hair walked in, helped herself to a seat, and poured some tea.
"We're really sending Director Miguel to America?" the Weather Witch asked, still somewhat in disbelief.
"Ever since Nick Fury took over, S.H.I.E.L.D. has gotten more and more arrogant. They've dismantled our intel network in the Americas and even set up a branch in Hong Kong, using our membership fees to play watchdog for the U.S."
"It's time to teach them a lesson," Miguel said coldly. "Fight poison with poison."
"But this poison…" The Weather Witch shivered. "Isn't it a bit too strong?"
"Exactly. The people of America…" Miguel's face twisted as if trying to suppress laughter.
"Are in for a world of hurt."
His tone dripped with malicious delight.
BANG!
The meeting room door slammed open. A man with a messy mop of hair and a lab coat barged in, breathless. "D-Director! Is it true? Is Director Miguel going on a field mission?!"
Miguel glared at him. "That's none of your business."
"Uh…" The man—Rick—quickly changed his question. "So… is he coming to work tomorrow?"
Miguel stared at him for a moment before replying, "Director Miguel will be on vacation for a while. In his absence, as his assistant, you'll need to hold down the fort—"
Rick's shoulders shook, hands and feet trembling, tears streaming from his eyes. He didn't hear the rest. He whipped out his phone, too excited to wait.
"Brothers! It's confirmed! The Demon King… he's GONE!"
Even through the phone, Miguel could hear the deafening cheers erupt on the other end.
"Hahaha! Roast duck's on me tonight!"
Still shouting, Rick bolted out the door.
Miguel yelled after him, "If there's any project delay, I'm holding you responsible!"
"It's fine, it's fine!" Rick waved cheerfully as he ran off. "As long as the Demon King's not breathing down our necks, our passion for work will skyrocket!"
Miguel shook his head and returned to his office.
Robert left the circular fortress stationed in northern Yanshan, drove home to Beijing, had dinner with his parents, and told them truthfully: he was going on a long business trip—no return date confirmed.
The next morning, Robert boarded a plane to America. After a 12-hour flight, he landed at San Francisco International Airport.
Wearing a sleek black trench coat, Robert stepped out of the airport. His features were soft and friendly, with the aura of a neighborly young man. His black-rimmed glasses added an intellectual charm.
A taxi pulled up in front of him. A Black driver tilted his head and asked, "Hey there, need a ride?"
Robert glanced at the young man and smiled knowingly. "Sure."
The taxi sped toward downtown.
San Francisco, the sleepless city, shimmered under a faint glow. Robert had boarded his flight at 8 AM Beijing time. It was now 4 AM in San Francisco.
The driver was chatty, constantly trying to strike up conversation.
"You Japanese?"
"Yes."
"Whoa! Japan , I've heard of it. Pretty cool country!"
The driver gave Robert a once-over through the rearview mirror, then grinned wider.
Seeing Robert enjoying the view outside, the driver asked, "First time in America? San Francisco's a beautiful city, huh?"
"Welcome to America, land of paradise!"
But he didn't see what Robert's eyes were seeing.
The lingering resentment floating above the city…
The cries of the weak echoing in his ears…
The bloodstained shadows that never left...
"Yes," Robert smiled. "This is my paradise."
The paradise he had waited years to reach—the playground of demons!
Suddenly, the taxi veered off the main road, sped up, took multiple sharp turns, and entered a desolate slum. It finally skidded into an abandoned factory.
"Hey, boys!" the driver—Hoddy—yelled happily, slamming the brakes, jumping out, and waving toward the shadows.
Dim lights flickered. A few pieces of clothing floated into view.
"Hoddy, don't tell me you're clocking out early," a floating coat growled. "Do I need to remind you how much you owe me?"
"I've got the cash, Ryan!" Hoddy grinned and pointed at Robert, who had stepped out of the cab. "This guy's fresh off the plane from China. He's loaded with American dollars."
"You know those guys—always dumb enough to save money."
Ryan stepped into the light, revealing that beneath the floating clothes was—a farm tool.
"Nice. You actually caught a lone yellow monkey."
All around, more farm tools gathered, surrounding Robert like hungry wolves.
"Hand over anything valuable, yellow monkey!"
"Maybe Big Boss Ryan will spare your life for God's sake!"
Robert glanced around the room and smiled.
"Just as I thought… this is my paradise."
Suddenly, thick black shadows erupted from his body.
Before the stunned eyes of the attackers, the darkness took the shape of a massive figure.
A hulking form, pitch-black, with glowing red eyes, horns on its head, and a wicked black trident in hand.
"W-W-What the f—?!"
"M-M-Mama… he's… he's the Devil!!"
"AAAAAHHH!!"
The gang screamed in terror, but it was too late—the shadows had engulfed the room. Their cries couldn't escape.
"P-Please don't eat me…"
"S-Sorry…"
Robert smiled. "You know, I liked you guys better a minute ago. Let's go back to that."
He stretched out his hand. The giant demon's head lowered to nuzzle his palm, its red eyes squinting with pleasure.
"Only then can my little darling get just a bit of a snack."
The demon was terrifying.
But the man in glasses, with the sunny smile of a boy next door, was something even more terrifying—
A true… Demon King.
(End of Chapter)