Even the Demon Gods Are Out and About

Only after Zarathos's aura had completely withdrawn, vanishing into the dimensional passage to the mortal world, did the "fierce and intense" battle scene inside Mephisto's dimension rapidly subside like an ebbing tide.

The shaking palace steadied again, the dim lights flared back to life, the "wounded" demons were restored by Mephisto, and the illusion of the buildings that had "collapsed" moments ago disappeared without a trace.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

Upon the throne, Mephisto slowly reined in that posture of "rage" and "hard-fought battle." He elegantly straightened the collar and cuffs of his suit, which had become slightly rumpled from those "intense movements," and that perfect, all-controlling smile reappeared on his face—even brighter than before.

"That's it."

Mephisto waved lightly, dispersing the last traces of magic used to create the "battle effects," then lifted the cup of blood-red wine that had somehow been refilled.

He took a small sip. His gaze seemed to pierce the dimensional barrier, following Zarathos's path toward the mortal world, and finally fell upon Earth.

Upon New York.

Upon that young man who made him feel both "interested" and "endangered."

"Go, my dear, irritable Zarathos."

Mephisto murmured to himself, his voice filled with delighted anticipation.

"Go deliver the 'greeting gift' I so carefully prepared to that new neighbor of mine. Let me see how he deals with an ancient Demon God avenger who, though weakened, is mad and utterly reckless."

"How will that fellow respond?"

"Will he put on another brilliant law-enforcement show? Or will this sudden trouble throw him into chaos and expose more of his trump cards and weaknesses?"

The curve of his lips grew more pronounced, and the calculating gleam in his eyes almost overflowed.

"No matter the outcome, this play will be very, very exciting. And I need