John Wick sat silently on the sofa, staring at the new bulletproof suit and the alloy weapons case laid out on the table, debating whether or not he should drag William into his personal vendetta.
Meanwhile, far away in London, William had already picked out a certain member from the Cavendish family—a man who had fallen ill with a terminal disease due to reckless behavior—and summoned the demon Fischer back to Earth from Hell.
Breathing in the sulfur-free air with great relish, Fischer knelt before William and immediately began shamelessly flattering him,
"Praise you, great master! Fischer is always ready to serve you!"
"Shut up," William said coldly.
Having dealt with Mephisto already, William had no patience for any more demonic sycophancy.
He pointed at the dying man in the hospital bed.
"Kill him."
Though Fischer was puzzled, the opportunity to devour a human soul the moment he returned to Earth was too tempting for a gluttonous demon like him.
Without hesitation, he pounced.
But just as Fischer was about to touch the man, he screamed in pain and recoiled at incredible speed.
"Satan above! It's not my fault! It's not my will!" Fischer howled in terror.
William's first instinct was excitement—but he wasn't going to take Fischer's word for it without proof.
Using telekinesis, he forcefully hurled Fischer back toward the hospital bed.
This time, as Fischer's claws approached the sick man, they began to dissolve—as if plunged into boiling oil.
"Let me go, Master! Let me go!" Fischer screamed in agony.
At last, under extreme duress, Fischer confessed:
An unbreakable law had been branded into his mind.
Any being with the bloodline of the Devonshire family was protected by the will of the material plane itself—as long as William lived.
Any demon daring to attack a Devonshire bloodline bearer on Earth would be utterly annihilated.
William blinked in surprise, releasing his mental grip.
Material plane? Only while alive?
And this protection wouldn't extend to other dimensions?
Still, that was more than enough for William.
After all, there was a big difference between attacking and killing.
But soon, William's natural suspicion resurfaced.
Luckily, Fischer still had some value.
William decided not to kill him yet—and to switch tactics.
Narrowing his eyes, he said,
"Go back to Hell and fetch me another demon.
If you can't, I'll use you for the next experiment."
Fischer didn't even hesitate, shouting,
"Yes, Master! I'll bring you one immediately!"
With a grunt, William hurled Fischer back to Hell.
Moments later, he felt Fischer's mental summons.
When he dragged the demon back to Earth, Fischer had two cat-sized minor demons in tow.
The captured demons initially thought Fischer was going to devour them.
But when they saw William, they howled excitedly—desperate to break free.
William immediately slapped on a silencing spell and a binding spell.
He picked one demon up with his mind and tossed it into the hospital room, releasing the binding.
The confused little demon pounced instinctively toward the dying man.
And then—right in front of William and Fischer's eyes—it began to dissolve into nothingness.
Within seconds, even the ashes had vanished—mere centimeters from touching the human.
"Satan above," Fischer whimpered, pressing himself flat to the floor, shivering in terror.
The experiment was a success.
Satisfied, William prepared to leave—but then he caught the familiar whiff of sulfur in the air.
"Come out, Mephisto."
"Still so rude," came the mocking voice.
Wearing a pure white suit and lacking any soul tether, Mephisto's new projection slithered out from the hospital shadows.
He smiled slyly at William—then his eyes flicked to the groveling Fischer.
"Keeping a demon as a pet?" Mephisto sneered, a flash of killing intent in his gaze.
"Pathetic. If you're interested, I could gift you a succubus queen—or perhaps some exotic animal-form demons?"
"Master, Master—don't be deceived!" Fischer cried desperately.
He knew perfectly well: if William accepted Mephisto's offer and discarded him, death would be the least of his worries.
Mephisto would devour his soul and strip his memories without mercy.
So Fischer, groveling even lower, stammered,
"Master, don't be fooled by the fancy titles.
Succubus queens may sound impressive, but they're mutated monstrosities that constantly drain magic and life energy from everything around them.
If you keep one near you—even if you're strong enough to resist—the people around you will suffer horribly.
And as for those animal-shaped demons..."
"Shut up, worm," Mephisto snarled, extending his hand to kill Fischer on the spot.
But before he could act, William froze him in place with a mere glance.
"I warned you," William said coldly,
"He's my dog now. If he dies, it'll be by my hand alone."
Fischer, seeing Mephisto completely immobilized, felt a rush of twisted pride.
He—even a lowly demon—had a master who could casually suppress one of Hell's seven archdemons.
"That's right! I'm my Master's loyal dog! Only he can kill me!" Fischer shouted.
"Gahaha... Bold words, worm," Mephisto said through gritted teeth.
"Pray your master can protect you when you're back in Hell."
Fischer froze, fear returning instantly.
But William ignored him completely.
Could these two demons be colluding? Was this a trap?
Possibly.
But William wasn't about to fall for it easily.
If Fischer died, he wouldn't lose sleep.
Besides, if Mephisto dared to move against him here, William would happily vaporize his projection.
"You wasted a lot of effort setting up this projection," William said, smirking.
"If you think a flea like Fischer is worth losing it, go ahead. Attack him.
I'll send you straight back to Hell."
Casually drawing a few circles in the air, William once again branded a space lock sigil into Mephisto's projection—completely ignoring Mephisto's sputtering curses.
Secretly, Mephisto was fuming.
He had prepared a counterattack this time—but he hadn't expected William to avoid the trap so easily.
Without even a pat on the shoulder, his setup was completely useless.
"Get to the point. If you've got business, talk. If not, get lost," William said flatly.
Knowing how suspicious William was, Mephisto didn't dare stall.
"I want a second round of betting," Mephisto blurted.
"Interested?"
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