Hazbin Hotel: Another Adam

Paimon's mansion, where the "Goetia Ball" was being held today, looked fucking rich. I've seen all sorts of luxury in both Heaven and Hell, of course, but this residence… it was impressive. A huge territory, surrounded by a towering wall of some expensive-looking purple stone, perfectly polished and dimly shimmering. Beyond the massive fence stretched an incredibly beautiful and well-kept garden, and what was most interesting – it, like the plants in Stolas's house (after this mansion, I could no longer call that place a mansion), was planted not with local hellish creepy mutant flowers and carnivorous vines, but with the most ordinary, earthly plants: roses, peonies, some flowering shrubs, even a couple of quite ordinary birches and oaks. I had already noticed that representatives of the Goetia generally have some strange love specifically for earthly flora and fauna, unlike most other demons.

The mansion itself was three-storied, but in terms of size and scale, it could easily compete with a typical five-story building from my past life. Apparently, the ceilings there were about five or six meters high, no less. The architecture – some potent mix of Gothic, Baroque, and something else, I'm not particularly разбираюсь in this: sharp spires, twisted columns, huge windows with dark stained glass, on which some family crests and symbols that the Goetia demons loved so much could be discerned. All of this looked incredibly pompous, expensive, and a bit… oppressive.

Why am I not afraid to just barge into the very lair of one of the oldest and most powerful demons like this? Do I really think that no one from the local "elite" will notice that I am, to put it mildly, not quite who I pretend to be? That I'm not from their hellish sandbox at all? Fat chance; I'm one hundred percent sure that Paimon himself has long been sitting in some secret BDSM room of his, equipped with dozens of surveillance cameras, and is staring at me with interest, not giving a damn about my invisibility, because that guy really knows his stuff about local magic on such a level that I still have a long way to grow to reach him. For that, I even respect him a little.

At the same time, the von Eldritches, who were also supposed to be here, are unlikely to feel or notice anything. Because while Paimon surely has a bunch of magical trackers, traps, and security systems in his personal mansion, they, no matter how cool and influential they may be, shouldn't have access to all that: their relationship with the Goetia isn't that trusting, even if they pretend a hundred times over to be a "bridge" between Lucifer and the aristocratic birdies...

Oh, I don't think I've mentioned this yet, have I? Purely theoretically, according to all hellish laws and concepts, the von Eldritch family are direct vassals and subordinates of Lucifer, which automatically means that none of the other Deadly Sins or Goetia have the right to order them around or tell them what to do. But in fact, they play the role of informal negotiators, sort of "diplomats," relaying various problems, requests, and proposals from Lucifer's other subordinates (including the Sins and Goetia) to Lucifer himself. Well, more precisely, they USED to do this, back when the duck-lover was still at least somewhat interested in the affairs of his kingdom. But now, when our beloved "King of Hell" has been suffering from bullshit for some time, making rubber ducks, and пребывает in deep depression, the von Eldritches, it seems, are playing some of their own, "fucking important" political games, trying to grab a bigger piece of power. Especially after Lilith suddenly bailed to Heaven, leaving Lucy in complete shock and solitude; after that, he doesn't even leave his castle, just cuddles his ducks. Nutjob. But, to be honest, who gives a fuck about these political games of some leftover demons? Everyone doesn't give a fuck. If they show off too much, I'll personally come and unscrew all their talkers. And let them eat through their assholes afterwards.

Ahem… I'm a bit nervous today. Though, most likely, it's just the old hatred for the "devil" race speaking in me. After all, they killed so many good guys during Samael's rebellion… But oh well, these particular "devils" had no direct relation to those events.

So, back to the main question: why am I not afraid to climb in here? It's simple: because I, after all my "upgrades," am already the strongest being in both Hell and Heaven. I now have Seraphim-level power, access to a practically limitless source of energy in my "sunshine" (which, by the way, is getting bigger and more powerful every day, absorbing surplus Light from those who wear the ring), plus combat experience from my past life. At this rate, even Eve will soon become a not-so-scary opponent for me. Well, if I'm lucky, of course, and she doesn't turn out to be an analogue of God, only on Darkness…

Right now, I'm invisibly hovering in the air in front of the gates, curiously examining the arriving guests. I'm paying special attention to the gates because various representatives of the Goetia were arriving there one after another in their pompous infernal limousines (why the hell do that if you can teleport? An open question). They would get out, exchange pleasantries with Frederick, who PERSONALLY greeted each guest at the entrance, after which they would go inside. Well, fuck him, this Frederick. Right now, I'll just fly onto the territory…

I fly up to the high purple wall, intending to hop over it… and slam right into an invisible barrier! Fuck! Of course! What else did I expect from the mansion of one of the oldest demons in Hell?! A gate on a string?! Alright… Not a problem... Let's try to get in another way… I concentrate, trying to push some of my Light inside the territory to create an "anchor" for teleportation… No fucking way! Doesn't work! The protective field blocks any foreign energy!

I messed around for about five minutes, trying various penetration options: tried to fly over the top (gave up after two kilometers), tried to teleport first to Heaven and from there create a direct passage right into the mansion… Nothing worked! The protection was simply impenetrable! Damn! I'll have to break through the barrier by force…

At that moment, I notice a familiar cunning owl face in one of the third-floor windows. That face is looking intently right at me! And I, by the way, am still under the effect of invisibility! And yes, it was Paimon. It seems the old coot got curious about what persistent crap had been unsuccessfully trying to fuck with his security wards for five minutes.

I smirk and wave at him. Then, for a split second, I create a glowing inscription in the air above my head: "DON'T MESS WITH ME - I'LL CRUSH YOU!" None of the guests or guards below noticed this, of course. But Paimon… his reaction speed should have been enough for him to make out the text. And, it seems, he did make it out, and even drew the right conclusions, because just as I was about to say fuck all these magical intricacies and simply break the shield with brute force, this wise bird, apparently deciding he didn't need that kind of "happiness" at all, simply… made the invisible barrier around the mansion territory disappear.

Well, thanks for that. I'll definitely buy him a large, spacious golden cage for his birthday. Does he even have a birthday? Or are there two: the first when he was born as an owl, and the second when Darkness converted him? Then there should be a third, when Lucifer restored his sanity.

After flying a few dozen meters over the well-kept garden, I smoothly descend in front of the massive entrance door of the mansion, just as another aristocratic couple approaches it – some tall, purple-skinned bird with parrot features, all decked out in jewels, and her companion, resembling a rook, in a strict black suit. They don't notice me and simply wait as an imp-butler obligingly opens the door for them, and I calmly walk in behind them, not revealing my presence, and find myself in a huge, brightly lit ballroom.

The first thing that catches my eye is the number of guests. There were hundreds of them here! Representatives of all the noble Goetial families. Birds of all kinds, colors, and shapes. All dressed up in tailcoats, tuxedos, evening gowns, and no one seems bothered that it's all in one place. They stood in small groups, lazily chatting, drinking some glowing crap from tall glasses. A typical aristocratic party, as imagined by people who have never been to one. The hall was decorated in the same purple and gold tones as the entire Sloth Ring. Huge crystal chandeliers, tapestries on the walls, a marble floor, an orchestra of some horned bastards playing classical music…

I quickly duck behind the nearest massive column, cancel my invisibility, and, as if nothing happened, walk back out into the center of the hall, mingling with the crowd of guests. Naturally, my appearance doesn't go unnoticed: dozens of curious, interested, and slightly wary gazes immediately turn towards me. No wonder, it's not every day some unknown demon without clear signs of belonging to any noble family appears at a ball.

I pretend not to notice this attention at all and calmly stroll through the hall, lazily examining the guests, the paintings on the walls, the sculptures… And all the while, I'm discreetly "scanning" everyone around me with my "Eye of Adam." The artifact on my neck vibrates barely noticeably, signaling the presence of Darkness, but the crystal remains calm, which means this Darkness is not connected to Eve in any way.

About ten minutes passed like this. I had walked around almost the entire hall, "scanned" about three hundred different Goetia demons, and the result was… depressing. All "clean"! Absolutely! On none of them did the "Eye" show the slightest trace of Eve's influence! That bitch couldn't have possibly signed up only two idiots – Asmodeus and Alastor – to her side, could she?! This already looks completely illogical! Yes, I understand that Eve isn't very "sociable," but, to have no one at all?! This is really alarming. And a bit infuriating.

By the way, about the contractors. That cyborg clown who was actively sucking up to Asmodeus during the show at the club, as it turned out, was clean. I, like all of Asmodeus's other close associates, promptly checked them with the "Eye," and they were all clean too! That is, Asmodeus was the only "infected" one in his immediate circle! I think it's clear now why this whole situation alarms and pisses me off so much…

A couple of times, some local aristocrats approached me to get acquainted. They introduced themselves with some "His Lordship Baron von Strudel," "Her Ladyship Countess de la Croissant," and other fucking important and pompous titles. Which, as you understand, I couldn't care less about. Same as their names and pedigrees. At that moment, I was too busy trying to catch at least one goddamn "contractor" of Eve. And the fact that they weren't here was really pissing me off more and more. I, naive Chukchi archangel that I am, thought I'd come here now, catch a hundred or two traitors, interrogate them, and spoil my ex-wife's plans… Fat chance! Only found two idiots this whole time, and even then – one of them is already beaten up and lying in a coma in my "sunshine," and the other isn't thrilled with his contract himself but can't do anything about it, so why did he even sign it? A deer, for fuck's sake.

Anyway, I just brushed off all these annoying aristocrats, standardly introducing myself as "Baal" and vaguely answering all questions about my origin with something like: "Father said I should be present here today, so here I am." Let these birdies guess now who my "father" is. It'll even be interesting to listen to their versions and gossip later; thankfully, my archangel hearing allows me to hear quite a lot.

Generally, it's worth saying that the "hostess" of the ball (at least, one of the "hosts") – Bethesda von Eldritch – was also present in the hall. Quite a beautiful and striking "devil" woman, with long silver hair, piercing green eyes, and a chiseled figure, dressed in a luxurious emerald gown. She seemed to be on excellent terms with all the guests, as she constantly circulated between different groups, smiling sweetly, joking, and effortlessly resolving any conflicts or awkward situations that arose. But her children – Seviathan and Helsa – I hadn't seen them yet for some reason. Which was a bit disconcerting. It seemed like they should all be here together. But, on the other hand, there were quite a few children and teenagers from Goetia families at the ball, so I wasn't mistaken – this wasn't a "very adult and super serious only" party.

Then my attention was drawn to the entrance door. The stream of guests was still unceasing, but what caught my eye wasn't that, but the fact that… the Stolas family had just entered the hall. All in the same formal attire I had seen them in when I was "visiting" them. Stolas, Stella, and… Octavia. Who was in some incredibly beautiful, long purple dress that bared her shoulders. She looked simply stunning in it, but at the same time clearly felt out of her element – she stood slightly hunched, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, and looking around like a hunted animal. Which, however, was quite understandable, given her character; I could already imagine her attitude towards such gatherings.

I smirked and calmly headed towards them, waving a greeting to Octavia as I walked. And, oh miracle! The little bird noticed me! Her red eyes widened in surprise, a light blush appearing on her cheeks. Stolas, standing next to her, also saw me and frowned slightly, but recognition flickered in his gaze. And Stella… that shrew, after casting a brief contemptuous glance at me, immediately turned away and bailed somewhere towards a flock of similarly pompous and gaudily dressed-up demonesses her age. Friends, perhaps? In the "Helluva Boss" canon, she supposedly had some sisters or close relatives with whom she constantly intrigued against Stolas. Perhaps these were them. To be honest, I hadn't watched that cartoon very attentively, so my knowledge of its characters and plot was very fragmented. Only my newly acquired enhanced angelic memory helped, and even then – not always.

"Delighted to see you again, Prince Stolas," I approached them and gave a slight but sufficiently polite bow, as befits addressing royalty. Those mannerisms from a past life again… "And you, young Princess Octavia. You look simply delightful today."

Naturally, the etiquette and manners here in Hell were drastically different from what was customary at the courts of those "gods" from my past, but I couldn't care less. I'm not going to waste my precious time studying all the intricacies of infernal etiquette and courtly bows, am I (spoiler: no)? And I couldn't perform "Miracles," so, esteemed birdies, make do with what you get.

"A wonderful evening, isn't it?" I smiled charmingly at them both. Yes, yes, I couldn't think of any other, fucking, topics to start a polite conversation. Go to hell, this isn't banality, it's a classic! You need to know this!

"Ahem… Baal?" Stolas sized me up with a long, scrutinizing gaze, in which hidden surprise and suspicion were clearly readable. Aha. He probably thought I was some small fry trying to get close to power and money using his naive daughter (well, or he didn't think so, how would I know?), but my unexpected appearance here, at a closed ball of the highest Goetia aristocracy, clearly indicated that I myself was something. Considering I didn't resemble any of the Goetia representatives known to him, I think the little bird will try to dig up dirt on me, if he hasn't thought of it already.

By the way, all representatives of the Goetia can use the so-called "human disguise" – that is, assume a human form so as not to stand out too much on Earth. So he might have thought I simply changed my appearance to "human," but I looked exactly like a demon, so I'm definitely not from the Goetia, yet somehow I'm here now.

"What an… unexpected meeting," Stolas finally said, tilting his head slightly. "I take it," he cast a quick glance at Octavia, who immediately blushed deeply and tried to hide behind his back, "you would like to have a little chat with my sweet starling alone?"

"Dad!" Octavia squeaked indignantly, her voice trembling with embarrassment. She lightly punched his arm with her fist. "Well, don't call me that! I'm an adult already!"

Yeah, right, this old lady, just so you understand, turned 18 recently. By hellish standards, that's still a child, and if you compare her to me, she's practically an infant.

"Heh," Stolas chuckled good-naturedly, gently stroking his daughter's crown of gray-blue feathers. "Sorry, dear, habit." He turned back to me, and a cunning glint flickered in his four red eyes. "Well then, Baal… I hope I won't regret entrusting my most precious treasure to you for a while…" He gently nudged Octavia in my direction. She, awkwardly taking a few steps by inertia, stopped in front of me and, striking an embarrassed pose, stared at the floor. Apparently, the pattern on the carpet seemed incredibly interesting to her right now and clearly deserved the most intent study.

"…" I silently extended my hand to her, as is customary at balls. Octavia, with even greater awkwardness and doubt, looked first at my hand, then again at the floor, then at her father (who gave her an encouraging nod), and finally, still, placed her thin, slightly cold fingers in my palm. Her hand trembled almost imperceptibly.

And why is she reacting like this? Oh, right. Not only is she in that gorgeous ball gown in the middle of a whole gathering of hellish "elite," but I'm also here, in a sharp suit, offering her my hand like some goddamn prince from a fairy tale. That's why it's hitting her so hard, how all this looks from the outside.

"Rest assured, Your Highness, I will not let any harm come to your starling," I placed my free hand on my chest, feigning reverence, and out of the corner of my eye, noticed Stolas momentarily assume his true form – a huge black owl with glowing eyes – apparently to motivate me. Considering that quite a lot of attention from other guests was already focused on us… Well, they're not pestering with questions – so fuck them.

"Don't call me that," Octavia said shyly, almost in a whisper, when we had moved a little away from her father and hidden from most curious glances behind one of the massive columns. "I'm not a child anymore!"

"Octavia, you don't have to prove that to me," I smiled gently at her. "I'm not blind, and I perfectly understand that you are already an adult, beautiful, and very intelligent young woman. And 'starling'… well, it's cute. And it suits you very well." I winked playfully at her, timely dodging a light slap on the arm. Heh, she didn't do that before; looks like the atmosphere of the ball is really making her very flustered. "You better tell me, why so gloomy? Don't like it here?"

"…I'll get you back for 'starling'," she comically wagged her finger at me, but I saw she wasn't angry anymore. "And as for the ball… I just don't like all these… events. Too noisy. Too crowded…"

"I can understand you," I nodded sympathetically, remembering all those endless corporate parties, distant relatives' weddings, and other "mandatory" gatherings from my past life. "Especially if you don't really know anyone, then it's just complete crap."

"Exactly!" she perked up. "And then there are all these…" she waved her hand vaguely towards the dancing couples, "…aristocrats. Strutting around, showing off to each other, gossiping… Pah!"

"Well, at least I'm here!" I smiled broadly at her again. "So we can be together. How do you like that plan?"

And why did she blush so deeply again and turn away? Oops. It seems I was misunderstood again, damn it…

"Um… I… I think I'll get us something to drink…" I hastily flee to the nearest table with drinks, feeling like a complete idiot.

No, I have nothing against Octavia! She really is a cute, interesting, and very beautiful young woman! And yes, she's a little owl, which adds a certain charm to her! But, fuck! Firstly, I already have a beloved woman whom I wouldn't trade for anyone! And secondly – the age! No matter how much I try to brush it off to myself, the age difference between Octavia and me is really colossal! I literally feel the phantom presence of an entire FBI squad just waiting for me to make one wrong step towards this cutie!

After catching my breath a bit and calming my nerves, I down a glass of some dark red wine that was on the table in one gulp. Wow! And it… it's fucking delicious! Thick, tart, with some complex fruity-berry notes and a "warm" aftertaste. The bitterness of alcohol is not felt at all; it drinks easily, like grape juice, but at the same time, it seems strong. I'll definitely need to find out who produces this delicacy and steal a couple… hundred barrels for myself. Well, or buy it, why not?

I turn around to go back to Octavia… and notice this scene: Seviathan, in person, is brazenly feeding some crap to my little owl! Judging by Octavia's expression – a blush has reappeared on her cheeks, but this time from resentment, and her eyes are about to fill with tears – this bastard is clearly saying some nasty things to her, while also smirking disgustingly, enjoying her reaction!

Well, that's it, you're fucked, you little shit!

"Listen here, you little devil, why don't you fuck off from here before I shove your teeth down your ass?" My voice was quiet, calm, almost insinuating, but that didn't make it any less threatening. I appeared behind Seviathan in an instant, placed my hand on his shoulder, and squeezed slightly. Just as a precaution, so he'd think better before offending good girls.

"Hey! And who the hell are you? Hands off, trash! You dare threaten me?! I am Seviathan von Eldritch! Heir to one of the oldest families in Hell!"

He sharply pushed my hand away and turned to face me. He looked pompous, of course – tall, slender, with black hair styled in a fashionable cut, dressed in some incredibly expensive suit in his family's colors – but just now he had made one very big mistake. He pissed me off.

"…" I didn't argue with him; instead, paying no attention to this idiot, I approached the still agitated and ready-to-cry Octavia. "My little starling, are you alright? Did this scumbag hurt you?"

"Pfft! Do you even know that her father sleeps with a stinking imp?! He's disgracing their entire lineage! She's the same kind of whore as her pervert daddy!" Seviathan interjected again, smirking insolently and clearly enjoying the effect he produced.

So that's it! It seems this \ bastard just decided to bully the poor little girl because of her father's "sins"? What scum! In my past life, when I read various information about the "Hazbin Hotel" and "Helluva Boss" universe on the internet, this Seviathan's character was described as an "arrogant, selfish, ignorant, and spoiled brat." Apparently, that was indeed the case. Only, it seems, he understood that confronting Stolas directly was above his pay grade – Stolas, though often appearing like a ridiculous clown, was still one of the 72 strongest Goetia demons and could easily give this brat such a beating that he wouldn't know what hit him. But taking it out on his daughter – that was easy. Typical behavior of a cowardly jackal.

"Shut up, trash," I coldly threw his own "insult" back at him over my shoulder, then turned back to Octavia, who was no longer holding back her tears. "My little owl, don't cry, don't listen to this idiot. He's just a worthless, stupid idiot." I gently stroked her head, simultaneously wiping away her tears.

"What did you call me, you degenerate?!" Seviathan shrieked with rage. It seems the word "trash" really meant something to him. Maybe a bag of trash beat him up in his childhood? Nevertheless, his cry attracted the attention of almost everyone present in the hall.

"I'll… I'll grind you into powder! I…" he began, apparently about to attack me, but didn't have time.

My fist smashed right into his solar plexus. The blow wasn't very strong – I didn't want to kill or maim him, just to calm him down – but it was enough. Seviathan literally doubled over, a strangled gasp escaped his throat, and his eyes bulged out from pain and surprise. In the next second, his body, like a rag doll, flew upwards and, crashing into the ceiling, got stuck there. Looks like he lost consciousness.

"I called you trash," I said in a perfectly calm voice, looking at the work of my hands.

Silence hung in the hall…