Marvel: Soul King

What does it feel like to be on the brink of death?

Angela had the misfortune—or perhaps fortune—of finding out, as Constantine prepared to drown her in a bathtub with his own hands!

Normally, entering hell wouldn't require such extreme measures. One would simply immerse a part of their body in water, using it as a medium to traverse into hell.

But Angela wanted the "Short-cut" version.

And in life, shortcuts always come with risks.

Thus, Constantine resorted to this drastic method—pushing her to the brink of death so her soul could cross into hell through water as the medium.

Splash...

Water sprayed from the bathtub as Angela flailed her arms, clutching at Constantine's shirt like a drowning person clinging to their last hope, desperately trying to pull herself out of the water.

To be fair, the strength people exhibit when facing death is terrifying.

Despite weighing less than 90 pounds, Angela nearly overwhelmed Constantine, forcing him to use both hands to pin her down in the bathtub.

Constantine expressionlessly stared at Angela, whose face was distorted in pain and struggle beneath the water.

One second... Ten seconds... Thirty seconds...

Angela's struggle grew weaker with her pupils beginning to lose focus.

She suddenly felt like time itself was slowing down.

It was as if the world had been stretched into infinity.

She could blurrily see a droplet forming on the faucet above her, slowly, painstakingly, falling toward the water's surface.

Plop.

The droplet hit the water, creating ripples.

Everything stopped. Absolute silence engulfed her.

The next moment, the world in Angela's eyes transformed entirely.

What is hell like?

Angela had never considered this question before, but now she could see it with her own eyes.

The sky was blanketed by dark clouds, and decay and twilight were the eternal themes of this world.

No day. No night. Just an everlasting twilight.

Yellow sandstorms filled the air, and the howling wind carried an eerie wailing.

Everywhere she looked, there were ruins, blazing flames, and decayed skeletons—a cruel tableau of what the world might look like after its end.

This was hell.

Every soul cast into this place would endure unending torment for all eternity.

Every second spent here was agony.

Constantine had once said that two minutes in hell felt like a year to him.

Whoosh—

The yellow sandstorm swept over her, and a foul stench filled Angela's nostrils, assaulting her brain.

Her instincts as a police officer kicked in, and she quickly recognized the smell—a mixture of rotting human flesh and thick blood.

"Ugh!" Angela bent over and retched uncontrollably.

But she had eaten nothing earlier, so all she could vomit was bile.

After a while, Angela managed to suppress the nausea, wiping away tears that had welled up in her eyes. She took a deep breath and summoned her courage to take a better look at hell.

Beyond the ruins and decaying corpses, there seemed to be nothing else.

'So this is the world Isabella saw...'

Thinking of her twin sister enduring such torment, Angela's guilt deepened.

"Wait for me, Isabella." Angela took several deep breaths, psyching herself up before cautiously following a narrow path ahead.

But she failed to notice the pairs of evil, greedy eyes hidden beneath the ruins, silently watching her.

A living presence in hell.

To these malevolent beings, Angela was like a beacon of light in the dark.

From the shadows under the rubble, grotesque creatures emerged.

Their noses twitched, greedily sniffing the scent of life, drooling thick saliva as they quietly stalked Angela on all fours, like wild beasts.

As time passed, Angela felt she had traveled quite far.

She left the narrow path and found herself on a wide road littered with abandoned cars, with a collapsed bridge in the distance.

Just then, a familiar voice called out from ahead.

"Angela..." The voice made Angela freeze.

Though the sandstorm obscured her view, she could barely make out a figure dressed in white calling to her.

Despite the distance, Angela recognized the figure instantly—it was her twin sister, Isabella!

Standing on the edge of a cliff, wearing a white hospital gown, Isabella looked just like she did when she jumped to her death.

"Isabella!" Angela's eyes brimmed with tears, her lips trembling as she ran toward her sister, unable to suppress the grief in her heart.

"It's too late..." A tear slid down Isabella's face. Watching Angela approach, she shook her head sadly. "Sister, leave this place. His target... is you!"

In the next moment, Isabella closed her eyes, spreading her arms as she slowly fell backward.

Having committed suicide, Isabella's soul was condemned to hell in accordance with Catholic beliefs, forced to endlessly repeat the act of her death. This was her punishment in hell.

"No! Isabella... don't!" Angela screamed, her mind teetering on the brink of collapse as she watched her sister die again.

But then, a chilling sound broke the silence.

"Slurp... slurp..." The grotesque sound of licking tongues, accompanied by low, inhuman growls, echoed around her.

Angela had no time to grieve. She was surrounded.

Monsters had appeared.

They emerged in droves from the shadows of the ruins, encircling her.

These creatures were emaciated, their heads partially decapitated, exposing brain matter.

Their grotesque forms resembled the depictions of demons in Dante's Divine Comedy.

These demons, like Isabella, were sinners in life, condemned to hell for their crimes. Tormented and disfigured, they had become these horrific beings.

"Hiss—" Drooling viscous saliva, the demons stared at Angela with ravenous eyes, they were eager to tear her apart.

"Ah!" Terrified, Angela stumbled back, only to find herself standing at the edge of a cliff.

Behind her was a sheer drop; in front of her, a horde of demons.

"Constantine, save me!" Angela screamed.

Bang—

The bathtub shattered with a loud crash, and the water inside exploded, splashing across the floor and ceiling.

Unfazed, Constantine clapped his hands and asked, "So... What are your thoughts on hell?"

But only silence answered him.

Angela lay there with her eyes shut tightly, her skin was ice-cold, and her chest was unmoving—she appeared like a serene sleeping beauty.

"Angela?" Constantine frowned, sensing something was amiss.

Under normal circumstances, returning from Hell would leave a person in excruciating pain due to their soul's inability to adapt. But Angela's silence made it clear her endurance wasn't the reason.

"Wake up, Angela." Kneeling down, Constantine shook Angela as he called out to her, but she remained unresponsive, as lifeless as a corpse. A bad feeling crept into his heart.

He pryed open Angela's eyelids only to see her pupils clouded and lifeless.

No breathing.

No heartbeat.

No soul.

After thoroughly checking, Constantine's face turned pale with disbelief.

From both a biological and mystical perspective, Angela was undeniably dead!

What was supposed to be a near-death experience had turned into an actual death.

"Fuck…" Constantine traced a cross over her chest and called out, "Come on, Angela, come back!"

The next moment, Angela suddenly opened her eyes, with veins bulging around them. Her eerie, white pupils locked onto Constantine.

Without bending her knees, she eerily rose straight up from the ground like a puppet, her face mere inches from Constantine's. Framed by bulging veins, Her ghastly gaze bore into him.

Whoosh!

A chill ran down Constantine's spine as his hair stood on end.

Angela—or rather, the demon taken over her—grinned sinisterly, then thrust her hands forward.

A sharp pain struck Constantine's chest as a tremendous force sent him flying back like he'd been hit by a car. He crashed into the wall with a resounding bang, shaking the crystal chandelier above.

"Shit!" That hit wasn't light; Constantine felt as though his organs had been displaced.

"Con...stan...tine..." Angela—or the thing possessing her—clung to the ceiling like a spider, defying gravity. Her head twisted 180 degrees inhumanly, glaring at him with malice.

"Newton's laws can't hold this one back," Constantine joked and said with a sigh, "And she's possessed by a demon!"

What should've been Angela turned into an unwelcome intruder, and Constantine cursed his luck and demanded, "Which demon are you? Name yourself!"

Angela's face twisted into a grin with the veins on her skin writhing like living things.

"Okay," Constantine said, realizing she wouldn't answer. "No need to tell me—I don't really care."

The demon shrieked and leapt at him.

"Good timing." Constantine smirked, sidestepped the attack and pinned her down the moment she landed.

Sitting on top of her, he pressed his thumb against Angela's forehead and chanted:

"In the name of the Great Creator!

By the Holy Cross, I command you!

By the Star of David, I command you!

By the sacred words of the cosmos, I command you!

Depart this place immediately!"

Boom!

A gust of mana erupted around Constantine, which howled through the room.

An unseen power pulled at the demon within Angela, making her writhe and scream in agony. Her body arched unnaturally, and her pale eyes glared venomously at Constantine.

"Aaaargh—Constantine!!!"

Constantine expressionlessly pressed his right thumb harder against her forehead. He bit his left index finger and smeared some blood there as he continued to chant:

"By the blood of humanity, be gone!

Break the devil's binds!

Oh Lord, deliver us!"

Bang!!!

Every window shattered, and the ground cracked as though struck by an immense force.

Angela's screams stopped abruptly, her body going limp as the pale pupils faded.

Drenched in sweat, Constantine slumped onto the floor. "Good thing the possession was short. Fuck. I'm so tired."

Demonic possession grows stronger the longer it lasts, but this one was fresh, so it was easier to expel.

However, the problem wasn't fully resolved.

Constantine's frown deepened—Angela's soul was still trapped in Hell!

Being stuck in Hell was no trivial matter.

If she stayed too long, there were only two outcomes: either her soul would succumb to Hell's influence and turn into a demon, or the denizens of Hell would devour it.

At that moment, a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Need a hand?"

Constantine turned to see the man he'd met earlier at the bar, holding the hand of a cute little girl. They both regarded him with amusement.

"You? How did you get out? Midnite didn't give you trouble?" Constantine asked with half lidded eyes.

"We walked out," the man replied with a faint smile. "As for Midnite, he no longer exists."

"You're not here to settle a score with me, are you?" Constantine asked cautiously and recalled how he'd betrayed them at the bar.

"No," the man said, still smiling. "I'm here to help."

"Help? With what?" Constantine frowned.

"In saving her, of course, duh." the man said, gesturing to Angela.

"Are you joking? Her soul is trapped in Hell. How can you save her?" Constantine scoffed. "Don't tell me you're planning to go into Hell and bring her soul back."

The man's smile widened. "That's exactly what I intend to do."

"Hah. Are you truly insane?" Constantine's first reaction was that Lod was joking with him.

Hell—what kind of place was that?

It was the end of all things, the place forsaken even by God.

The righteous go to Heaven.

The wicked, to Hell.

This was the law established by God, and no angel or demon could defy His will!

Any soul that falls into Hell cannot be saved in any form.

Not even the Archangel Gabriel could rescue a lost, fallen soul from Hell!

"Maybe." Lod's smile remained unchanged. "You send me to Hell, and I'll bring Angela back. How does that sound?"

Constantine's lips twitched slightly, but in the end, he swallowed his words.

"What exactly are you trying to do? Don't give me that 'saving Angela' nonsense—Just tell me the truth," Constantine said as he fully opened his eyes and stared directly at Lod.

"I just want to go to Hell, that's all." Lod's lips curled upward slightly.

No matter what Constantine decided, Lod was determined to go to Hell. Worst case, he'd just need to "convince" him to agree.

His insistence on visiting Hell wasn't merely out of curiosity but to explore whether he could artificially create something akin to Hueco Mundo.

But before expanding his business, he needed firsthand knowledge of Hell itself.

After all, this was the Marvel Universe. Acting rashly without understanding could provoke the wrath of some powerful entity.

As the saying goes: "know your enemy and yourself, and you'll never lose."

When it came to understanding Hell, aside from the Ghost Rider, the only other person who knew it well was this "Hellblazer" in front of him.

"If you're so insistent, I won't stop you," Constantine said. He lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled a puff of white smoke before continuing, "But at least tell me your name first."

"Lod Carl."

"Hmm... Weird name, but I'll remember that."

Constantine took another puff, then said seriously, "I'll send you to Hell, but there are a few things you need to know in advance. Remember them."

"Please, go on." Lod gestured politely. Since his understanding of Hell in this Marvel-DC hybrid universe was limited, Constantine's insights would be invaluable.

Constantine raised a finger. "First, the Hell you know isn't actually a single, unified dimension."

"What do you mean? Hell isn't a complete dimension?" Lod frowned slightly, puzzled.

Constantine's eyes glimmered with intrigue as he explained, "Hell was once a complete and independent dimension. But for some unknown reason, it shattered into countless 'mini-Hells,' each ruled by a Hell Lord embodying one of the Seven Deadly Sins or by other powerful demon kings."

Lod's eyes narrowed. "Who are these Hell Lords?"

"The Sin of Pride: Lucifer Morningstar!

The Sin of Envy: Leviathan!

The Sin of Wrath: Samael!

The Sin of Sloth: Belphegor!

The Sin of Greed: Mammon!

The Sin of Gluttony: Beelzebub!

The Sin of Lust: Asmodeus!"

Constantine listed them one by one, then added, "Apart from the Hell Lords representing the Seven Deadly Sins, there are also native-born demons with power rivaling that of the Hell Lords."

"For example, the Hell King Mephisto is a powerful demon born from Hell itself. It's said he governs and controls the souls damned to Hell and is the demon most likely to rival Lucifer's power and claim the title of 'Satan.'"

"Wait... Isn't the fallen angel Lucifer supposed to be Satan, according to the Bible?" Lod asked, surprised.

"...Who told you that?" Constantine asked, exasperated. "Which version of the Bible says Lucifer is Satan?"

"Uh... Isn't that common knowledge?" Lod replied awkwardly. He wasn't exactly well-versed in Western theology; his understanding of Satan and Lucifer came from popular media.

"Of course not!" Constantine rolled his eyes. "Satan is more of a title than a specific entity. In Hell, whoever is the strongest can claim to be 'Satan.'"

Constantine continued explaining the intricacies of Hell.

In the beginning, Hell and Heaven were independent and complete dimensions. But for reasons unknown, Hell shattered into countless fragments, forming the incomplete dimension we now know.

These fragments are collectively referred to as "mini-Hells."

All demons currently originate from these mini-Hells, and the constant wars among the Hell Lords and demons stem from their desire to claim the dominion of other mini-Hells.

But why do they covet each other's dominion so much?

After a second of thinking, Lod came to a theory.

Perhaps the Hell Lords and demons aimed to restore Hell to its original, unified state to access its full dimensional power.

If Heaven could give rise to God, then why hadn't Hell produced an equivalent being?

The answer likely lay in Hell's shattered state.

The remaining mini-Hells were too weak to support the birth of a God-level entity.

Looking back... Lucifer leading half of Heaven's angels into Hell might have a deeper, more terrifying implication.

Was the "God" in this reality truly omniscient and omnipotent?

Probably. But Probably not.

Moreover, Hell's inability to unify, with its dominion scattered among various Hell Lords, might well be due to God's interference.

Of course, all of this was pure speculation on Lod's part. He couldn't know for sure until he met this "God."

"Fascinating..." Lod's smile deepened with his anticipation for Hell growing stronger.

This trip would undoubtedly be worth it, having already extracted so much valuable information about Hell from Constantine.

Still, hearsay could only go so far. To truly understand Hell, he had to see it for himself.

"Since you're set on this, we'd better act quickly. The longer we wait, the harder it'll be to locate Angela's soul," Constantine said, springing into action to prepare for the "journey."

Given Lod's immense spiritual power, Constantine decided against using his usual methods—mainly because he doubted he could restrain Lod and feared being overpowered instead.

"Put your foot in this."

Constantine brought over a basin of water, setting it at Lod's feet. Before Lod could ask, he explained, "Traveling to Hell requires a medium, and water is a universal one. Think of it as your ticket."

A basin of water, a black cat.

The function of the water needs no further explanation—it has already been introduced earlier.

The focus here is the black cat!

This black cat appeared in 'The Constantine,' the Keanu Reeves version. In that movie, Constantine held the cat to enter Hell and find the soul of the suicidal Isabella.

Because the cat was Angela and Isabella's pet when she was alive, it had a unique connection with Angela. It could help Lod locate Angela's lost soul in Hell.

Without the guidance of this black cat, trying to find one person's soul in the vast expanse of Hell would be like looking for a needle in a haystack—which is practically impossible.

"Are you ready?" Constantine took a deep breath and continued, "First, follow my instructions: soak your feet in the basin, hold this black cat, and stare directly into its eyes.

Then, try to empty your mind, rid yourself of any distractions, and imagine yourself in a void of complete darkness."

"Empty my mind and imagine nothingness? That doesn't sound too hard," Lod said, thinking it over. It seemed doable.

"It's not as easy as you think. The human brain is complex. The more you try to avoid thinking about something, the more your brain will keep reminding you of it. Unless you're an idiot."

Hearing this, Lod's smile twitched.

Constantine pursed his lips with a look that said, "We're still friends here, no need to consider yourself less intelligent," and added, "It took me four or five hours the first time to empty my mind completely."

This "emptying the mind" condition might seem simple, but it's challenging to achieve.

Unless you've had professional training, the average person would find it very hard to clear their mind of random thoughts in a short amount of time.

However, this mental state Constantine described was strikingly similar to the state of "blade meditation" Shinigami experience when conversing with their Zanpakutō. Both require eliminating distractions and bringing the mind to a state of tranquil emptiness.

Lod nodded and patted Nemu on the head. "Nemu, wait over there for a bit. Your brother will be done soon."

"Okay, brother~" Nemu obediently nodded and walked to the side.

Seeing this, Constantine frowned slightly, noticing where Nemu was standing—just behind him, no more than two meters away.

Two meters was a dangerous distance.

If Nemu were to attack him from there, it would be difficult for him to react in time.

When Nemu saw Constantine looking at her, she smiled sweetly with dimples appearing on her cheeks. She said cheerfully, "Uncle, you'd better not have any bad thoughts~ Otherwise, Nemu guarantees you'll die a horrible death!"

She wasn't bluffing—Nemu was full of confidence.

Despite her usual cute and playful demeanor and occasional tinkering, one shouldn't forget her true identity: a Shinigami!

If it were a different time and place with no restrictions, Nemu might not stand a chance against Constantine.

But with Constantine so close and unprepared, she was confident she could kill him instantly!

"...No, no, no, I'm a friend, and I don't betray my friends," Constantine quickly waved his hands and lied with a straight face.

Though Nemu seemed harmless so far, his survival instincts from years of dodging death told him not to provoke this seemingly sweet yet terrifyingly sharp little girl. Otherwise, he might actually end up dead!

Lod's smile twitched again as he observed the entire interaction but didn't intervene. After all, he had specifically arranged for Nemu to keep an eye on Constantine.

As the saying goes, "trust but always verify."

Especially when it came to someone like Constantine, who was renowned for his trickery. Lod couldn't afford to let his guard down. It was only prudent to have contingency plans to prevent Constantine from double-crossing him.

Constantine, being as sharp as he was, saw right through their intentions.

That said, just as Lod and Nemu were wary of him, Constantine was equally cautious of them.

Everyone understood this unspoken tension; they simply chose not to address it.

"If you're ready, let's begin," Constantine urged. "Every minute we delay, Angela's danger in Hell increases."

Following Constantine's instructions, Lod soaked his feet in the water basin, picked up the black cat, and stared into its eyes.

Clearing his mind of distractions, he envisioned a void of endless darkness, letting his soul drift into a state of nothingness.

It wasn't long before he entered the desired state.

"So quick? He must really be an idiot, then," Constantine raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. He had thought it would take much longer for Lod to succeed, but the man had nailed it on the first try.

"He must be on another level of idiot," Constantine said with a nod as he confirmed his hypothesis.

Standing in front of Lod, Constantine took a deep breath. "I'm starting now. Don't interrupt the ritual, or I won't be responsible for any mishaps."

"Don't worry."

Nemu's eyes turned cold, and in a tone that belied her age, she said, "As long as I'm here, no one will disturb you."

"Good. I'll hold you to that."

Constantine shrugged, then cut his right thumb, and smeared a drop of blood on Lod's forehead as he began chanting in Latin.

In his state of mental clarity, Lod could clearly sense that as Constantine chanted, the blood on his forehead established an inexplicable connection to a distant, unfamiliar dimension.

Suddenly...

Lod felt his soul being yanked from his body by a mysterious force. Guided by the trail of Constantine's blood, his soul became a beam of light streaking toward that remote, unfamiliar dimension!

---

Hell.

The unchanging twilight hues and the stench of decay filled every corner of this desolate realm.

"So, I've taken my Shinigami form," Lod noted, observing his tailored black uniform and the short blade at his waist.

"Meow~"

A soft meow sounded. Lod looked down to see the black cat rubbing affectionately against his pant leg.

Squatting down to pet the cat, he said, "Good kitty. Take me to Angela, okay?"

"Meow~"

The intelligent cat licked Lod's palm and then darted off in a specific direction.

After running a short distance, the black cat stopped, looking back at Lod with its golden eyes, which shimmered with an oddly human-like expression.

"..."

Lod's eye twitched slightly. 'Could this cat be like Yoruichi?!'

After following the black cat for an hour, Lod finally understood one thing.

Hell is absurdly massive.

This wasn't an exaggeration—it was truly enormous.

But it made sense.

From Constantine's words, Lod had learned that extra-dimensional spaces outside Earth varied in size. Dimensions like the one ruled by Dormammu, or the one dominated by Chthon, or even that of Vishanti, were vast and comparable to entire universes.

The original Heaven and Hell dimensions were even larger, surpassing the scale of a single universe. The dimensions influenced by them could extend across the multiverse.

But after the original Hell dimension fragmented, even the shards, which held a fraction of Hell's authority, still spanned an area as large as planets.

Now, imagine trying to find a lost human soul among billions of demons and evil spirits across a planet-sized shard of Hell. The difficulty was like playing Sekiro—lobotomized.

No wonder Constantine had said it was impossible.

However, there was still a sliver of hope—the black cat that shared a spiritual link with Angela.

"Meow~."

The black cat stopped abruptly near the edge of a cliff, raised its paw, pointed downward, and meowed at Lod as if beckoning him to come closer.

"...Are you sure you're not a Shinigami in disguise?" he asked again with a raised eyebrow.

This was no ordinary animal—it displayed intelligence far beyond what he expected.

"Meow~ Meow~."

The black cat meowed urgently and pointed down the cliff with its paw again.

"Alright, I get it. I'm coming." He chuckled, shaking his head. Perhaps he was overthinking it.

Approaching the cliff's edge, he followed the cat's paw and looked downward. A trace of joy appeared on his face. "We found her... Angela!"

Below the cliff, on a massive circular stone platform, lay a girl in a sleeveless T-shirt with thin straps. Her limbs were bound by thick iron chains, which are thicker than an arm.

Even though he had located Angela, he didn't rush down immediately. Instead, he concentrated his Reiryoku into his eye and enhanced his vision to see more clearly.

Angela lay on an ancient-looking circular stone platform. It had a weathered appearance, and the strange inscriptions carved into its surface caught his attention. Upon closer examination of the text, he was surprised to find that the inscriptions bore a striking resemblance to the ones on the gun holster.

"Again with this Akkadian script?"

He frowned. From what he knew, Akkadian script originated from the Semitic language family and was one of the world's oldest cuneiform scripts, created over two millennia BCE by the Akkadian civilization. It later influenced many Middle Eastern languages.

Modern historians and linguists speculate that ancient Hebrew, the predecessor of modern Jewish scripts, evolved from Akkadian script.

Connecting this to the earlier incident where Constantine recited a phrase from the holster, which resulted in summoning the Archangel Gabriel, he began piecing together a theory.

God... Hell... Gabriel... Akkadian script... the Bible...

Lod sighed in frustration. It was obvious that these Akkadian inscriptions might represent the prototype of the earliest Bible.

Moreover, Gabriel's actions implied that the inscriptions still held immense significance, though the purpose of these Words of God appearing in Hell remained a mystery to him.

"Meow~." The black cat's cry interrupted Lod's thoughts.

"Hm?" Feeling a tug at his leg, Lod looked down to find the cat rubbing against him.

"Meow~ Meow~." The black cat alternated between nudging his leg and glancing at Angela, softly meowing, as though reminding him of his original purpose.

"You're right, I was in deep thought." Lod chuckled wryly. He had been so engrossed in the inscriptions that he had momentarily lost himself in thought.

However, one thing concerned him.

There were no signs of demonic activity near the stone platform—which was practically a bad omen.

Typically, a living soul would attract demons like moths to a flame. Along the way, Lod had witnessed this firsthand.

Even under the crushing weight of his Reiatsu, those greedy demons had relentlessly attacked him.

Yet Angela lay there unguarded, and no demon dared approach the stone platform. This alone proved the situation wasn't simple.

"This is going to be a pain..." Lod sighed. His original plan was merely to explore Hell and see if he could snag some "Extra loots."

After all, if there was one place teeming with souls, it had to be Hell.

But contrary to his expectations, even after cutting down countless demons, He didn't get a single soul.

Upon questioning, Lod learned the grim truth:

Fallen souls were bound by Hell's authority. They were doomed to eternal torment here, and no form of destruction—even the Zanpakutō of a Shinigami—could truly erase them in Hell.

Unless...

He seized control of Hell's authority, which would grant him dominion over its damned souls.

After pondering for a moment, Lod decided there was no point in staying where he was. It was better to head down and take a look.

Since he had agreed to take this woman's soul back, he wasn't about to break his promise.

And the reason for doing so wasn't for the woman's sake—it was for Constantine.

Put simply, he found Constantine useful.

"Be good~ Stay here and wait for me." He squatted down, reached out and stroked the black cat's head and instructed, "Don't run off anywhere. Just wait here for me."

"Meow~" The black cat seemed to understand and softly licked Lod's palm in response.

He walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down.

The distance from where he stood to the stone-carved disk below was about 150 meters!

The wind... was strong.

The humidity... was nonexistent.

He closed his eyes, straightened his chest, put one foot forward, and lightly pushed off with his toes.

Hundreds of meters of vertical drop lay ahead. Wind howled past his ears as Lod, with a serious face, began to sing:

"Sing with me, sing for the year

Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear

Sing with me, if it's just for today

Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away."

With a boom, he landed in a superhero pose and made close contact with the carved disk. He suddenly felt a peculiar sensation, as if someone was calling to him.

But the sensation disappeared in an instant—so quickly that he wondered if it was just his imagination.

After standing, Lod observed the ancient stone-carved disk.

The disk had a radius of about 100 meters, with six raised stone pillars at its center, which was binding Angela.

Considering this was hell, he took no chances for safety.

He set up multiple layers of Reiatsu barriers within a meter around himself, then infused Reishi into his veins, keeping his body in a Blut Vene state.

'Let's see what's stopping those demons from entering here.' After making thorough preparations, he strode toward the center of the disk.

As he neared the central platform, an invisible sense of threat descended upon him, as though some malevolent gaze was watching, making him profoundly uncomfortable.

'I knew it wouldn't be that simple!' Lod cautiously scanned his surroundings and expanded his Reiatsu detection to its maximum range, not overlooking even a single brick or stone.

And sure enough!

In this meticulous scan, he discovered a "shadow"!

The shadow hid behind Angela, like a ghostly silhouette invisible to the naked eye.

If not for its faint spiritual fluctuation, it might have stood in front of Lod without him even noticing!

"Ikorose, Shinso!" Following the heretical principle of striking before the enemy transforms—or in this case, shows itself—Lod immediately activated Shikai upon spotting the target.

Swish!

The blade of Shinso extended rapidly, piercing through a hundred meters of empty space in an instant.

But just as Shinso was about to hit the shadow, the blade was stopped by an invisible force and halted before it could touch the target.

"Stop hiding. I'm not playing hide and seek with a demon." Lod's eyes narrowed slightly. For someone to block Shinso so easily, their strength was undoubtedly on par with his.

Buzz!

The space rippled like a stone dropped into water. Waves spread outward, revealing the true form of the shadow as it gradually emerged before Lod.

"... You're ugly. Why you're ugly?" While demons generally didn't look great—Lucifer being the sole exception—this creature's appearance outright defied human standards of beauty.

The kind of face that would give kids nightmares. Its skinless body looked like a human flayed alive. Its limbs were unnaturally long and thin, with gray, decaying skin and shriveled muscles, resembling severe malnourishment.

And its facial features... Sunken eye sockets, prominent cheekbones, upturned nostrils, and razor-sharp teeth—it was a mishmash of features as though each grew with no regard for symmetry or function.

"Such an odd power…" The grotesque creature extended a finger, touching the tip of Shinso's blade. Its expression turned puzzled. "This feeling is somewhat like... Hmm... but not quite. Human, state your name."

Retracting Shinso, Lod concealed his seriousness and said indifferently, "Before you ask someone their name, shouldn't you introduce yourself first?"

Hearing this, the creature's eyes flashed with mockery as it chuckled. "You don't recognize me?"

Lod tilted his head in thought, then countered, "Should I? Is your ugly face that famous?"

"Hahaha..." The creature laughed as though hearing the funniest joke. "You come to my hell, make jokes and ask who I am?"

'His hell?' Hearing this, Lod furrowed his brows. "You're one of the Seven Hell Lords?"

"I am Mammon, Hell Lord of Greed!"

The grotesque creature grinned viciously and began walking toward Lod, saying, "Your power is intriguing. Your body and soul is mine from now on."

---

[Emergency Mission Activated!

Mission: Battle While Blazing Hell(1/3)

Details: Hell Lord Mammon has taken "ownership" of your Soul. To prevent possession, defeat Mammon's avatar here!

Completion Condition: Kill Mammon's Avatar (0/1)

Reward: Based on performance.]

---

"..." Lod was momentarily speechless. "Wow, you must be one hell of a nepo baby."

Hearing this, Mammon faltered in his stride for a second.

Lod shook his head, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. At that moment, he switched his Zanpakutō to Hyōrinmaru.

With his current Reiatsu level as a Fifth Seat Officer, forcibly activating Bankai would only last about ten minutes!

But against Mammon, one of Hell's Seven Hell Lords, would ten minutes be enough?

Massive Reiatsu surged like a tangible force.

"Bankai—Daiguren Hyōrinmaru!"

Lod was clad in armor forged of frost, with crystalline dragon wings extending from his back. His right arm gripped the hilt of a sword made from ice, Which was radiating pale-blue reiatsu.

Whoooosh!

The extreme cold of his reiatsu created a massive storm, spiraling upward and triggering a shift in the skies above.

The eternal twilight of Hell suddenly darkened as thick, rolling black cold fog loomed overhead, stretching across a radius of several kilometers like an impenetrable curtain of shadow.

Under the overwhelming reiatsu of Daiguren Hyōrinmaru, everything within the same radius turned to ice. Even Hell's ever-raging yellow sandstorm miraculously froze.

The circular stone carving, though subjected to the immense reiatsu of Daiguren Hyōrinmaru, remained completely unharmed. Furthermore, it shielded Angela's soul from the icy aura.

"Interesting," Mammon said, licking his lips. "I can feel it. Hell is yearning for your power!"

Though he didn't yet know why, Mammon could clearly sense his "authority over Hell" trembling in response to Lod unleashing his power, as if it was craving to claim it.

"I've made my decision." Mammon's eyes brimmed with greed as he grinned wickedly. "Forget the summoning ritual. I really want your soul now!"

The allure of this power was too much for him to pass up. No matter the cost, Mammon would claim it as his own.

"You want my body? Are you going to cry like a little bitch if I don't give it to you?" Lod's gaze fixed on the Hell Lord as he raised his blade. During the battle in New York, Lod had restrained his Bankai's destructive force to minimize collateral damage. But here?

There were no innocent souls in Hell. He could unleash his power without hesitation.

Hum.

Sensing Lod's intent, Hyōrinmaru quivered faintly, as if resonating with a quiet hum, urging him to unleash the ultimate chill upon his foe.

Lod's eyes sharpened as he used shunpo and appeared instantly before Mammon.

Swish!

Lod swung his blade with blinding speed.

The moment the blade connected with Mammon, the extreme frost erupted violently, swallowing him whole.

"Hyōryū Senbi." (Ice Dragon Swirling Tail)

The cold compressed on the blade burst outward, freezing everything in its path. The area within hundreds of meters was transformed into an icy wasteland.

Though Mammon's entire body was encased in a thick layer of ice, Lod didn't relax for a moment. His expression grew a little more serious.

After all, this was Mammon—a Hell Lord. It was impossible to defeat him so easily.

Most importantly...

There was no notification from the system that his task was complete.

As if confirming Lod's suspicions, the solid ice around Mammon began to crack as it ignited in black flames.

Crack! Crack!

The ice fractured, splitting apart, revealing terrifying fissures on the once-smooth surface.

Moments later, the ice exploded into shards.

"You have an annoying mouth," Mammon sneered, stepping out of the black flames. "I'm craving to tear you apart piece by piece!"

Lod just smiled and attacked the Hell Lord.

People might consider him crazy, but he wasn't. On second thought, maybe he was.

But here, he was simply... overconfident.

He was actually standing face-to-face with a Hell Lord on their home turf!

It was well known that the power of dimensional entities, like Dormammu or Chthon, was directly tied to the realms they ruled.

The only reason they hadn't conquered Earth's dimension was because their power was greatly diminished upon leaving their domains. The longer they stayed outside, the weaker they became. This limitation made it possible for the likes of the Sorcerer Supreme to repel them.

Fortunately, the Mammon standing before him wasn't the true Lord of Hell—it was only an avatar.

"Hah, you say I have an annoying mouth, and here you are talking too much," Lod snapped, a chilling light gleaming in his eyes. "How did you even become a Hell Lord with such a mouth? Don't the other six have issues with you? Maybe you suck them off to keep your position."

It was another careless remark, but this time, something seemed to snap inside Mammon as his eyes blazed with ferocious rage.

"Die!" Mammon let out an enraged roar, his voice bursting forth like a shockwave.

Boom!

"Hah, I seem to have hit a nerve~" Lod exhaled as he smiled mockingly.

Crackling!

White lightning enveloped his body, crackling with such intensity that it seemed to tear the space around him apart. The reiatsu radiating from him ripped through the incoming soundwave with sheer force.

But it wasn't enough.

Lod knew this battle couldn't end here. He needed more power—stronger reiatsu—to finish this fight.

After all, Hell wasn't just Mammon's battlefield.

Here, the reishi concentration was a hundred times higher than that of the human world, making it an ideal battlefield for someone with Quincy blood.

"Reishi—Absorption!" Lod's face flushed with blue veins as steam rose from his skin as he pushed his body to its limits.

Whoooosh!

Reishi within a thousand-meter radius surged toward him, drawn into his body in a tidal wave.

Through this near-self-destructive method, Lod forced his reiatsu to barely reach the level of a Captain.

The conditions were set.

"Watch closely... Mammon!"

A glint flashed in Lod's eyes as he raised his blade.

"Now, I will shove this sword up your ass so hard you'll see the stars!"

After hearing those words, Mammon felt something strange. The burning anger inside him inexplicably calmed down as he scrutinized Lod.

Lod's blade wasn't pointed at him but... the sky?

What was he trying to do? This thought had just crossed Mammon's mind when, in the next second, an enormous pillar of blue light erupted from Lod's body. The light pierced through all of Hell, shooting into the thick, foggy sky.

Zing~

A burst of extreme cold surged from the blade, pouring into the gloomy sky.

"Hyōten Hyakkasō" (Frozen Heaven Hundred Flower Funeral).

Suddenly, the sword radiated a brilliant white light. The light expanded rapidly, forming a massive white dome of spiritual energy in the sky.

Mammon stood there like an idiot, a rare flicker of shock appearing on his face.

Hell... was snowing.

An endless expanse of snowflakes fell gracefully from the dome of energy.

One had to admit, seeing snow—a sight exclusive to the human world—falling gently in Hell, a place eternally filled with decay and flames, was a surprisingly romantic spectacle. Even Mammon couldn't resist admiring it for a few moments.

But beneath this breathtaking scene was a terrifying coldness that could plunge one into despair.

When a single snowflake landed on Mammon, it suddenly blossomed into a dazzling ice flower. Only then did he realize something was wrong!

These ice flowers, upon blooming, began to drain life force and energy from their host at an astonishing and terrifying speed.

The snowflakes continued to fall, and one after another, ice flowers bloomed.

In the blink of an eye, dozens of exquisite ice flowers had grown on Mammon's body, draining his energy and life force with ferocious intensity.

"What the fuck is this..." Mammon's expression finally changed. He frowned slightly. As a Hell Lord ruling over Hell, he didn't care about this avatar, but he didn't expect to lose it so easily.

"I find you more and more interesting the more I see what you can do," Mammon said with a smile, even as flowers started blooming all over his body.

Countless ice flowers interconnected, and wherever one looked, there was nothing but frost. Ultimately, everything transformed into a massive pillar of ice formed entirely by blooming flowers.

Hyōten Hyakkasō, or its English name Frozen Heaven Hundred Flower Funeral, was a technique that, by channeling the extreme cold stored in the blade into the sky, allowed Lod to activate the ultimate version of Hyōrinmaru's basic ability, Tensō Jūrin, as well as its strongest form. When one's body bloomed with one hundred ice flowers, their life would reach its end.

It was the strongest technique Lod could currently unleash.

"Goodbye... Mammon."

Lod lowered his gaze and lightly swung his blade.

"No, this isn't goodbye. We'll meet again, and next time I see you, I'll get what I want," Mammon replied with a smile.

"Heh, we'll see." Lod's blade connected, and the countless ice flowers blanketing Hell shattered in a thunderous explosion.

Boom!

---

[Emergency Mission Completed!

Mission: Battle While Blazing Hell (1/3)

Details: Hell Lord Mammon has taken "ownership" of your soul. To prevent possession, defeat Mammon's avatar here!

Completion Condition: Kill Mammon's Avatar (1/1)

Reward: Based on performance.]

---

Shortly after, twelve ice flowers withered, signifying the end of Hyōrinmaru's presence.

The icy wings and armor on Lod's body began to peel away. His previously terrifying spiritual pressure and aura instantly plummeted to their lowest point.

In their place were exhaustion and weakness. Lod's entire right arm had been severely frostbitten by Hyōrinmaru's cold energy.

Pant... pant...

Lod's face was pale as he panted heavily. Then, without hesitation, he forcefully tore off his frozen right arm.

The arm had been completely frozen and rendered useless. Tearing it off caused no pain, and not a single drop of blood flowed from the wound.

This wasn't related to the Zanpakutō's will—it was the price of forcing a Bankai.

Hyōrinmaru's power wasn't something easily controlled.

Even with the system's assistance to force a Bankai, the backlash was severe.

In the previous battle in New York, Lod had deliberately suppressed the range and power of his Bankai, so the consequences weren't too harsh.

But this time...

Faced with Hell's demon lord Mammon, he couldn't afford to hold back. He had to give it his all.

The cost? His arm.

This incident reminded Lod that he needed to quickly achieve Captain-class Reiatsu.

Otherwise, could he force himself to use another Bankai, even if he obtained someone else's?

This time, it was Hitsugaya's Hyōrinmaru. In just ten minutes, it had frostbitten an arm.

What if it were Aizen's, Shunsui's, Zaraki's, Unohana's, or Yamamoto's?

Next time, the price might not be just an arm.

Lod looked at his severed right arm, a trace of relief flashing across his face. He muttered, "Good thing I kept a Regeneration Injection."

---

[Item: Regeneration Injection

Grade: Blue

Type: Consumable

Description: Developed by the black-tech genius of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. Regenerates limbs!]

---

This item had been sitting unused in Lod's inventory for ages.

With his left hand, Lod grabbed the syringe filled with green liquid and stabbed it into the stump of his right arm, pushing all the contents into the damaged tissue.

Green light surged as the muscle tissue in his arm writhed and regenerated at a speed visible to the naked eye.

In less than ten seconds, his right arm was as good as new.

Lod clenched his new fist, confirming it was identical to the old one. With his final concern gone, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Better leave here before Mammon's main body returns."

Lod knew very well that what he had killed was just an avatar, not the true demon lord. Leaving now was the safest option.

After a few Shunpo, Lod arrived at the stone disc's center and scooped up the unconscious Angela.

"Huh?"

Just as he was about to leave, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

Beneath where Angela had been lying was a palm-sized stone disc. It was embedded in a depression, its color almost identical to the surroundings—difficult to spot without a close look.

What shocked Lod the most was that this small stone disc was nearly identical to the massive one beneath their feet, down to the Akkadian script etched into it. It was as if someone had replicated it perfectly.

Which one was real, and which one was the replica?

Regardless, Lod wasn't about to leave it behind.

Having learned that Akkadian script was known as the "Word of God," how could he ignore a stone disc covered in it?

Pocketing the disc, Lod, now satisfied, carried Angela and the black cat away from the cliff's edge.

Then, Lod pulled out the Holy Water Sphere Constantine had given him, crushed it, and poured it over everyone.

TN: Rewrote every dialogue, since they were becoming generic Chinese interactions again. Hope you enjoyed it.

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(End of Chapter)