Endless Debt Chapter 735 - 215 The Devils’ Bet [Thanks to Yuan Yuan for the alliance leader, additional update]

On the endless expanse, the train roared along the tracks like a swiftly moving steel serpent, rushing from one nest to another, stirring up clouds of dust and gravel.

The scene projected onto the giant screen, in the dim theater, Belphegor as always sat in the center of the audience, only this time his gaze didn’t fix on the screen, but unusually shifted to the book in his hand.

A stack of books piled on the seat next to Belphegor, some titles were repeated, just bound differently, seeming to be different editions of the same book.

Belphegor slowly closed the book, with the Devil’s memory, photographic memory wasn’t a challenge for Belphegor, yet even so, he read the books over and over again, like walking an old path countless times, in a cycle of repetition.

Placing the book aside, Belphegor slowly closed his eyes, a satisfied smile on his face, immersed in the aftertaste of the story’s end.

Belphegor whispered, "Such an interesting soul, Blue Crow."

The books piled around Belphegor all came from the same author.

Blue Crow, or rather, Erwin Flesher.

Belphegor collected all of Erwin’s works, from his debut decades ago to the recently reissued commemorative editions by publishers for profit, all are available in Belphegor’s collection.

Belphegor loved Erwin’s stories, loved them so much that when Erwin refused his deal, Belphegor actually felt a tinge of gratitude.

Erwin did not disappoint him; he remained noble and pure. If he had agreed to the Devil’s offer, the devil’s power would have tainted the essence of Erwin’s stories.

Besides the gratitude and satisfaction, an extremely contradictory emotion arose in Belphegor’s heart; the more Erwin flaunted the value of his soul, the more Belphegor yearned to obtain it, to exhaust its worth.

This complex and twisted thought caused Belphegor to repeatedly clench his fists, struggling to resist his natural craving for souls, yet obsessed with the untapped narrative quality of Erwin.

"Erwin, what shall I use to entice you?"

Belphegor looked up at the screen, where Erwin was being embraced by the furry Hart, amidst Erwin’s frightened expression, Hart enthusiastically kissed and rubbed him, the black fur flying wildly, causing coughing fits.

To acquire Erwin’s soul, Belphegor must pay a corresponding price, yet for the moment, he couldn’t think of what he could offer... to be precise, Belphegor didn’t know what Erwin truly wanted.

Even with the ability to fulfill any wish, faced with a person who had no desires, Belphegor remained powerless.

"No... you are mine, you can only belong to me..."

Belphegor’s words gradually turned pathological, he knew, besides him, Erwin was also targeted by another devil, she always did this, enjoying snatching what he loved. She didn’t want it, only to make him angry and furious.

His chest rose and fell, taking a deep breath, Belphegor controlled his emotions, snapped his fingers, and the surrounding books disappeared in an instant.

Belphegor had a guest coming, he needed to prepare ahead of time, snapped his fingers again, an extra bucket of popcorn and drinks appeared on the seat beside him, no other changes were made in the cinema. For Belphegor, this was already a grand reception.

The guest didn’t keep Belphegor waiting long, a graceful figure gradually emerged from the writhing darkness, greeting Belphegor, her voice like flowers blooming in the eerie night.

"Long time no see, Belphegor."

Her ghostly pale body intertwined with the darkness, a pitch-black gauze skirt spread like a water lily, the woman approached Belphegor, seemingly smiling at Belphegor, yet perhaps not.

Belphegor hated the woman’s expression, that mix of pain and pleasure, it was hard to fathom her thoughts.

The woman sat beside Belphegor, her gaze also turned to the screen ahead, watching the movie together, now the scene shifted to the outside of the train, the heavy steel serpent charged boldly forward.

"How long has it been since you stepped out, the smell here is like a pile of rats’ carcasses."

The woman waved her hand in front of her nose, casting a look of disdain at Belphegor.

Belphegor knew, the woman was provoking him, there were no rats, only countless sealed souls.

"No matter how decayed and stinky, it’s merely a deterioration of material."

Belphegor retorted unceremoniously, "It’s far better than your hollow and tedious spirit."

The woman laughed, her laughter charming and pleasing to the ear, if she were human, she would have long bewitched people, making them give up everything to her, but it was useless on a devil like Belphegor, and the woman knew it too, but she was accustomed to this way of dealing, hard to change.

She had always been like this, enticing people’s minds with every move, stirring up their most primal dirty desires, watching those who claimed nobility tumble into madness, as if this gave her a sense of satisfaction.

Just like Belphegor’s delight in reading stories.

The woman said with a chuckle, "But it’s just my hollow and tedious spirit, yet it makes people crazy and eager for it."

This was true, under the woman’s temptation, the Unfettered Poetry Society fell apart, there was nothing Belphegor could argue.

Belphegor whispered, "You will pay the price."

"But not now."

The woman winked at Belphegor, from her casual attitude, the bloody feud between the two seemed like nothing but a game.

"Let’s not argue for now, we can have a life-or-death fight later."

The woman stretched lazily, aware that there were still important matters to attend to on this trip.

"So, what do you want to do?" Belphegor asked, "Your sudden visit is quite unsettling."

"Shouldn’t I be the one feeling unsettled?"

The woman feigned an envious look, "Look at you now; you control the terrifying Order Bureau!"

She chuckled quietly, "Or rather, are you being controlled by the Order Bureau?"

The woman knew Belphegor’s current predicament. The more troubled he was, the happier she felt, laughing heartily each time she thought of it.

"You really hate me, don’t you? You even subjected yourself to the Order Bureau for revenge against me."

Belphegor said, "Enough nonsense. What do you want from me?"

The woman crossed her arms, raising her left hand to pinch her chin, contemplating before she turned to Belphegor and suggested.

"Let’s call a truce, shall we?"

Belphegor doubted his ears, "A truce?"

"Yes, a truce, right?"

The woman explained her reasoning, "I met with Sai Zong not long ago. As you know, he represents the will of the Eyes of Eternal Fury. I don’t know what Sai Zong intends, but I know to control his rage, he’ll definitely stay away from conflict."

Taking a kernel from the popcorn bucket, the woman tossed it out, "One player exits."

"You can’t control the Order Bureau, but fortunately, they’re always at odds with the King’s Secret Sword, keeping our gluttonous sister at bay, and Tyrant Mammon is simple. He’ll back whoever seems likely to win."

The woman threw out two more kernels.

"As for the remaining two, one was betrayed by Serey and lost the power of the Eternal Night Empire, defeated in the Dawn War. Though a century has passed, I doubt he can regain the strength to overtake us. The other..."

The woman couldn’t help but laugh as she mentioned the next, "He’s truly laughable, being played by King Solomon. Luckily, we destroyed King Solomon in time, severely wounding him during the Fall of the Holy City, so he’s no threat in this dispute."

"Look, Belphegor, my brother, my kin, this is a rare opportunity, a chance even we can seize.

Don’t you want to win for once?"

Belphegor fell silent, seemingly swayed by the woman’s words. It was a rare opportunity. After two terrifying wars, the once most powerful devils were toppled from their thrones by mortals, presenting them a chance to rise.

"No... Are you kidding?"

Belphegor laughed furiously, the laughter sharp, carrying a grating metallic noise.

"You fractured my Unfettered Poetry Society, corrupted my poets, and even tried to destroy my ’Endless Poems,’ and now you ask me for a truce."

As Belphegor spoke, the cinema shook violently, as if a mad earthquake had descended.

The trapped souls in the dark boxes wailed alongside Belphegor’s fury, thousands of souls uttering piercing cries, narrating a cursed tale.

Horrifying scenes flickered back on the screen like a randomly cut montage, alternating bright lights and darkness, with high-pitched screeches on the sound system.

"You started this war! And now you want to stop it!"

Belphegor glared at the woman, questioning furiously.

"Do you think it’s possible, Asmodeus!"

Asmodeus maintained her charming smile, showing no fear in the face of Belphegor’s rage, brushing her hair slightly, her melodious voice resounding once more.

"Then let’s abandon swords and bloodshed and end the war in another way."

Asmodeus and Belphegor locked eyes, the bright screen between their line of sight. The feverish montage ended, the frame freezing on a scene inside a train, with Erwin’s face appearing.

The perspective pulled back, aligning the three faces within a single frame, surpassing spatial limitations to form a symmetrical picture.

Asmodeus proposed, "Shall we wager?"

"Wager on what?"

Asmodeus raised her hand, pointing to Erwin on the screen.

"On who can claim his soul."