"Hell Order," Samuel groaned, holding his stomach with one hand and bracing himself against the wall with the other. His voice was still hoarse from vomiting. "Is every C-class demon this strong?"
A second passed. Then, the ancient voice responded in their minds:
"Negative. The previous entity was a newly advanced C-class. Its combat capacity was significantly lower than the estimated apex within this category."
Danny, still rubbing his neck where Cheeky had nearly crushed his spine, narrowed his eyes. "Wait... you're telling me that thing wasn't even the worst of them?"
"Affirmative. Combat projections indicate the current apex C-class—suspected to be located on the top floor—is three to five times more powerful than the previous subject. Estimated survival rate in direct confrontation: 6%."
Samuel and Danny locked eyes. The room fell silent except for the dripping of saltwater in the distance.
Samuel finally muttered, "So... fighting the Queen now is basically suicide."
Danny collapsed into a sitting position. "So what do you think, bro? Are we going after small shrimps or escaping from this hell hole?"
Samuel went into deep thought. "How's the other plan you initiated earlier?"
Danny quickly checked his phone. "They're here. So far, police and firefighters have already gathered downstairs. People are coordinating. I think it's a matter of time before rescue teams make their way up."
Samuel nodded. "Things are about to get real messy. We've got dead bodies piling up."
"Hell Order, report. What's the current headcount in the building?"
"Detected: 15 Class-F, 3 Class-E, 1 Class-D, 1 Class-C remaining inside. 35 demons from various classes have blended in with the civilians below."
"Then we continue cleansing the small shrimps before dealing with the escapees outside. Hopefully, your plan works," Samuel said to Danny.
Danny nodded. "We gotta be smarter. Keep clearing lower levels—pick them off one by one till ground floor."
Samuel nodded. "We'll come back another day for this C-class. No matter where she hides, we'll hunt her down when we're stronger. And that Big Show stepsister—I'm gonna send her straight back to Hell."
Pinky, who had been quietly watching, finally spoke. "You two… you're not stopping, are you?"
Samuel gave a weak smile. "Hell no. We're just getting started."
She looked at them a moment longer, then nodded. "Okay. Let's be careful. Where are we going now?"
The trio continued downward, clearing floor after floor, racing to execute the final part of their plan.
While they hunted, the building groaned under the pressure of something dark stirring above.
The Queen wasn't waiting anymore.
After healing her initial wounds, she stepped out of her suite. The floor outside was in ruins—Hell Gate residue scorched the tile, making the very air feel blasphemous.
Her skin twitched. Her aura burned. Rage built with every step.
She descended, floor by floor, rage surging higher.
Meanwhile, the Hell Order pinged a warning. "
C-class combat threat approaching. Evacuation recommended."
Samuel and Danny rushed down the opposite staircase, staying clear of the Queen's descent.
Meanwhile, outside the building…
Crowds had gathered behind yellow barricades. Fire trucks. Police. Sirens. Screams. Chaos.
And among them stood a man in a cap and hoodie, clutching a camera bag—blending in perfectly, yet with eyes sharp and locked onto the building's upper floors.
James.
A freelance journalist. The same one who once interviewed Danny and Samuel… and referred them to Author Danish. Tonight, though? He wasn't chasing ghosts—he was chasing a story that could change everything.
Earlier that day, Danny had made the call—after Uncle Ben and the Smuggler handled the salt-loading job.
"James, I need your help. Big scoop. Huge. You'll get the exclusive. But you've gotta make some calls."
"What are you planning, Danny?"
"Starting a fire. Controlled. We need firefighters here—and saltwater in the sprinklers. Can you pull that off?"
"Are you crazy? That's arson—"
"No. That's salvation."
And now, here James was—watching his contact in the fire department nod from behind the chaos. Police had arrived to start crowd control. Media vans lined the streets. Ambulances parked. Every official had a reason to be there now… even if bribes had kept them silent until this moment.
Suddenly, James' phone rang. Danny.
"Bro, I did everything! Don't tell me this ends in a prostitution bust!"
"No time. Start the saltwater now—spray the entrance. We're five minutes out!"
Danny hung up. Samuel, Danny, and Pinky ran toward the exit, sweat, smoke, and something darker on their heels. The Queen's aura surged behind them like a collapsing world.
James turned and signaled the firefighter. No words—just a nod.
His contact sighed, then flipped the valve.
Ssssshhhkkk—
Rain. Again.
Salted. Consecrated. Death to the damned.
Screams erupted. The crowd turned to panic.
Three figures near the barricades began to sizzle—skin melting, eyes glowing, claws erupting from shaking hands.
Demons.
Gasps turned to shrieks.
The truth had entered the public stage.
James lifted his camera, heart racing. "This is it… this is what I've been waiting for!"
He started filming furiously, heart thudding louder than the sirens.
Just as the trio neared the final door to freedom—
The walls behind them shook.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Each footstep sounded like a war drum. The Queen was no longer hiding her power. Her aura roared through the halls like a tidal wave—thick, hot, full of wrath. The walls trembled with every step she took. Light fixtures burst one by one behind her, popping like glass veins under divine pressure.
Outside, rain was already beginning to fall—again. Blessed saltwater poured down the entrance corridor, steam rising where it touched the brothel floor.
Samuel felt it. Danny felt it.
They were seconds from the exit.
But so was she.
WHOOSH!
In a single blur of motion, she closed the distance. Her arm snapped forward, claws extending mid-swing—and Pinky was lifted off the ground like a rag doll, choking.
Samuel and Danny froze in place, eyes wide.
The Queen stood at the threshold now—half her face dripping with melted glamour, revealing streaks of scaled skin beneath.
She didn't flinch at the saltwater.
She didn't care anymore.
Her long, jet-black hair clung to her soaked form as she held Pinky up, eyes glowing like hellfire embers.
"Take one more step…"
Her voice, honey and hatred.
"I'll crush her neck."
Pinky kicked and gasped, her feet inches above the ground.
Samuel took a single step forward—
The Queen's grip tightened with a sickening crunch.
Her lips curled into a smirk, but her eyes betrayed her.
Smoke was rising off her skin.
The saltwater sizzled against her like acid, burning away the last layers of glamour.
Patches of her true form began to emerge—scales, veins of molten red, and cracks that glowed like embers.
But she didn't flinch.
She didn't care.
The pain only fueled her rage, twisting it into something more feral.
She wasn't just angry.
She was unhinged. Cornered. And completely unpredictable.
Outside, James kept filming through his viewfinder, zoomed in on the building's entrance.
He couldn't hear what was being said.
But he saw the look on Danny's face.
He saw the demon.
He saw the girl.
He felt the tension through the lens.
"Holy shit…" he whispered.
"This isn't just a scoop.
This is history."