The concept of good or bad has always existed.
Most speak of the balance between the two.
But in this world—of heroes and demon kings—the lines are blurred.
Lucius would know.
He's been on the receiving end of all the worst things life has to offer.
Now, he was going to fight back.
He wasn't going to sit quietly anymore.
...
Rain poured heavily over the city of Seville.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale light over broken concrete and collapsed roofs.
One man stood still beneath the wreckage of what used to be a safehouse.
No—he wasn't standing still.
He was pinned there.
Knives impaled his shoulders, nailing him to a crumbled wall like some discarded portrait.
His name was Lucius Denero.
And tonight, he had tried something impossible—to kill one of the world's so-called heroes.
He had failed.
"Santiaga... I remember you now. Hehehe…"
A mocking chuckle echoed through the wreckage.
Lucius dragged his head downward, eyes struggling to focus through the blood and haze.
A tall man in a white suit, with slicked-back blonde hair and a pair of shades perched on his nose, stepped into view.
"You're that guy who spilled my boss's drink that night. The one we also pranked with that girl."
Lucius said nothing. His entire body was numb from the pain of being impaled, he was barely conscious.
He recognized the bastard in front of him.
"...Jeff."
The name left his lips like a curse.
He tried to move. Pain screamed through every joint.
The knives held him firm—blood running freely down his arms and ribs.
"You know, it's funny." Jeff folded his arms and tilted his head mockingly. "We were friends once. You, me, the others. We even believed in you back then."
Lucius' breathing slowed. His eyes narrowed.
"But you just... didn't have it. No spark, no potential. Not even a hint of awakening. You were always dragging us down. So—" he shrugged, "we cut you off. We moved on. It was better for everyone."
He leaned in slightly, grinning.
"But man, I didn't expect you to hold such a long grudge over a few jokes. Some spilled drinks. A little heartbreak. And... The one we killed."
He scoffed. "You weren't hero material, Lucius. You were just... background noise."
Lucius clenched his jaw.
Jeff's smile widened as he stepped closer.
"I'm a goddamn A-Class Hero, you dumb bastard. Did you really think an ordinary bomb would kill me?"
Jeff's smile widened as he stepped closer.
"Ah, I see it now. This is about that old woman we killed, isn't it? The one who begged like a dog."
Lucius' eyes narrowed.
Jeff grinned in realization.
"So it was about her. You came for revenge! AHAHAHAHA... I've never heard something so foolish."
Jeff's laughter grated against Santiaga's soul.
'No. How can it end like this? That bastard's still standing... laughing... He won!'
He struggled against the blades pinning him, only driving them deeper into his body.
"No need to rush to your death."
Jeff extended his hand. A yellow glow shimmered across his palm.
"If you want to die so badly, I'll grant your wish."
With his other hand, he casually dusted his white suit.
Santiaga suddenly felt an invisible force pressing against his throat.
He looked up, locking eyes with the man.
"The boss really made quick work of her. She begged all she wanted as he cut her body to pieces. The way she screamed... the way she bled... it was mesmerizing."
Jeff breathed in deeply, as if savoring the memory.
"But you know why I suggested her death. She kept on begging for a weak scum like you. Not for herself." Jeff's lips twitched, looking itritated.
'She... Did that?' Lucius eyes met the ground. An image of an elderly looking woman crossed his mind.
Lucius gritted his teeth, looking up at Jeff straight in the eyes with a murder filled gaze.
He didn't want to die.
He wanted to live.
To survive.
To make them all pay.
The thought of begging Jeff for mercy disgusted him.
He would rather die.
"Enough playing now, I have somewhere to be. Goodbye."
With a twist of his hand, Jeff snapped Santiaga's neck from across the room.
The world went black.
...
"Let me help you."
A whisper came from the darkness.
"...What?"
"Together, we'll make them all suffer. We'll make them bleed. Don't you want your revenge?"
The voice was louder now.
"...Who are you?" Lucius' managed to ask.
"Do you want revenge?"
In that moment, Jeff's face popped up in his vision again and he managed to think clearly.
"Yes... Yes I do."
"Good."
The voice sounded satisfied.
In the darkness, a bright blue light shimmered above him.
He couldn't see his body—only endless blackness surrounding him.
He looked toward the light.
It wasn't just light—they were words.
Glowing in the air.
[Your Awakening has been completed. You are qualified to be the purger]
Lucius stared at the words in front of him. He couldn't feel excitement, hope, sadness.
He couldn't feel anything.
He didn't know whether it was because of the where he was.
The darkness.
Not the comforting kind of darkness that comes with sleep, but the suffocating void of nothingness. He could not breathe, he couldn't feel his heartbeat, or even see his body. Only silence remained.
For a moment, Lucius thought this was hell. Eternal emptiness. Eternal punishment. But the words in front of him made him keep his eyes open.
Then—
[DING!]
A cold, mechanical chime echoed inside his mind.
[Congratulations. You have been chosen.]
[Initializing altered System.]
His consciousness flared back, like a spark striking dry wood. Suddenly he was. He could feel himself again—pain, rage, grief—all rushing into him at once.
"...altered system?" Lucius muttered, his voice echoing in the void.
[Yes. The world has enough heroes. It is time to balance the scales, the world needs a villain. And you… are qualified.]
Lucius laughed. A low, broken laugh. "So even the gods want me to wear the mask they gave me."
"Not a mask. It's a crown." A feminine voice came from behind him.
I'm that moment Lucius saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her long, striking red hair danced as if misplaced by gravity, her eyes, pitch black, looked like it held a Galaxy inside.
Her red gown which hugged her slender figure made him feel like he was looking at a Godess.
"Who are you?" Lucius asked.
The woman had a gentle smile on her face and she levitated towards him.
"You have been chosen, Lucius. I have seen your suffering, and I will help you. With time, you'll know the reason why the entire world was against you." The woman spoke, pulling him in for a hug.
Lucius didn't know why, he felt that her words were genuine. He was sure he had never met a god before.
"Do you accept my help?" The woman spoke into his ear.
"Yes."
And with those words, power surged through him.
Images flashed in his mind—knives pinning him, a peculiar woman's blood on his hands. And all the torment he had gone through.
Now the Godess was offering him what no judge, no hero, and no other god had ever given: choice.
"Fine," Lucius whispered, a cruel smile curling his lips. "I'll kill them all. Even if it means I'll be the world's enemy."
The void shattered.
When his eyes opened again, he was somewhere else.