Mephisto had originally planned to set a trap for William by choosing Silent Hill—a place that had never seen a demon's presence—as the offered territory. His idea was to trick William into clashing head-on with the fierce Cyttorak, letting Mephisto reap the rewards from the sidelines.
What he didn't expect was that in just two days, William had already captured and tamed one of the hardest-to-catch nightmare demons like a dog, ruining his plan completely.
After several failed attempts to outmaneuver William, Mephisto suddenly felt it might be wiser to avoid the guy for a while. Any grievances could wait until after Cyttorak was dealt with—lest William, the bastard, join forces with Cyttorak to take him down.
So Mephisto switched tactics and planned to give Mammon a hand—who had long been eager to invade Earth—hoping to tie up William's attention with that problem.
As for the ten thousand mid-tier demons? Mephisto didn't even care.
"A thousand mid-tier demons. You can pick them yourself, or I'll just send them directly to Silent Hill."
Hearing Mephisto agree so easily, William frowned. He definitely wasn't going to Hell to select demons himself—that meant he'd have to send Fisher and Freddy.
But when he looked over at them, both demon dogs clutched their heads and flopped to the ground pretending to be dead.
If there weren't so many people around, William would've stomped on the two mutts right then and there.
After thinking for a moment, William had a better idea: just use soul coins to control the demon spirits of all ten thousand. Then he could convert them all into golden stone-winged beasts and store them on a desolate planet in outer space. When needed, he could activate them; otherwise, they'd be nothing more than statues—no feeding, no fuss.
He nudged the bully dog with his foot and asked, "Which kind of demon is most skilled in combat and excels in melee fighting?"
Seeing that William wasn't forcing him into Mephisto's territory to die, Fisher quickly replied, "That would be the berserker demons."
"These battle-hardened maniacs are pure hellspawn. Once in a fight, they won't stop until either they or their enemy is dead. No retreat. No surrender."
"Excellent. Very good," William turned to Mephisto. "I want ten thousand berserker demons, and send them directly to Silent Hill."
The berserker trait combined with the stone-winged beast form? As long as the demon spirits weren't destroyed, this army wouldn't just be immortal—they'd never retreat.
"Hmph, I'll notify you once they're ready." Mephisto shot William a venomous glare, then vanished from his chair with a flourish.
"Ahhhhh—!"
The sudden disappearance triggered screams from nearby tourists. William's expression darkened. He tapped his fingers on the table, and a wave of a memory charm spread across a hundred-meter radius.
In a flash, hundreds of people froze as if paused, then resumed what they were doing less than a second later.
Not even a blink of an eye had passed—anyone beyond that radius who noticed the anomaly would likely just think they imagined it. As for the nosy ones, Sunday had already infiltrated the nearby surveillance systems and wiped any possible evidence.
As William quietly mocked Mephisto's melodramatics, he didn't know that the old devil's projection had slinked off to the Papal National Bank. There, Mephisto stared at the skeletal demon he had been watching for two days, now disguised as a front desk clerk.
"My poor, useless child—Mammon. Is scheming against someone I'm watching the only thing you know how to do?"
After leaving the bank, Mephisto headed into the slums of Rome. Under a bridge, he found more than a dozen scavengers and injected each with a stream of dark energy.
In seconds, the scavengers transformed into dark creatures, ears twitching as they listened to Mephisto's whispering voice. One by one, they left the bridge and began heading toward Vatican territory.
Time passed quietly—five days in total. That day, while William was at home with Abigail discussing security measures for Dinosaur Island, Sunday spoke in his ear.
"SIR, one minute ago, John Wick entered the Papal Bank to make a transfer. He has just made first contact with the skeletal demon disguised as Helen."
"Got it. Keep eyes on them. Inform me immediately of any developments."
Abigail, who had been watching a video of a Dilophosaurus, rolled her eyes. "If you have something to do, just go. But don't get so wrapped up in your dinosaurs that you forget to make nectar for Jessie, Nysa, and Laura to restore their youth."
"Don't worry," William thought for a moment, then decided to just say it. "It's called magic nectar. It's—"
"Enough." She clamped her hand over his mouth, smirking. "I've lived with Selene and Nysa for years. Do you really think Jessie and I are fools? You don't think we've noticed something unusual about them?"
"Well…" William was momentarily stunned.
Abigail giggled. "Besides, after seeing that gourd, even an idiot could guess it's some kind of legendary magical artifact. And someone as sharp as you—don't tell me you didn't start learning magic young?"
William had never doubted Abigail's intelligence. Seeing how sensible she was, he gave her a light kiss. "If you're interested, I can find someone to teach you magic. Who knows? Maybe we'll have a witch in the family someday."
"A witch?" Abigail shot back. "So you're not a wizard? And you're not going to teach me yourself?"
"What I've learned isn't something you can pick up."
The magic in his mind wasn't something he'd teach to anyone outside his children. Besides, training a total novice from scratch took too much time.
Since there were plenty of witches in England and William had no shortage of gold, even getting Hermione Granger wouldn't cost more than a ton of gold.
"Sunday, ask Hermione Granger if she'd be interested in earning a ton of gold."
"Yes, SIR."
A few minutes later, the call came through. William explained the offer to Hermione—who clearly sounded excited—then passed the call to Abigail so they could talk peer-to-peer.
William wasn't the least bit worried about whether Hermione would accept. She was already married with kids—money was definitely something she'd need.
More importantly, building ties with the man who had single-handedly suppressed the entire British Ministry of Magic was something neither she nor those old men in the ministry would refuse.
And if Hermione declined? Well, there were plenty of other witches who'd jump at the chance to be Abigail's private tutor for a ton of gold. The Malfoys, for example, would definitely take the whole deal without blinking.
Before long, Abigail ended the call, beaming with excitement. She threw her arms around William's neck, sat on his lap, and laughed, "Mrs. Granger agreed to come to the estate three times per planet rotation. I offered her 100 gold coins per visit."
"Devonshire coins or wizarding Galleons?"
"Devonshire hundred-block coins, of course," Abigail said, smacking him playfully. "Do you think Mrs. Granger is an idiot?"
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