How to Make the Perfect Demon Lord

The ground began to tremble, a low hum swelling into a violent electrical shriek that echoed across the hall. Something was happening. And at the center of it all was Jamie.

Lightning crackled around him like living serpents, slithering up his arms, weaving across his clothes. His hair and eyes burned with a dimmer gold than before—less pure, but far more dangerous.

Alexander froze. His chest hammered so hard it felt like it might shatter. He hadnt seen his friend transform before.

"Incredible," he thought, shock numbing his body. Jamie had hidden this side of himself all along. Now it made sense—how they'd taken back the base, how they'd beaten the commander.

Then came the next shock. Jamie's arms stretched, muscles straining, as he pushed upward against Caster's crushing weight. His voice cracked through the chaos.

"AAAHHHH!!"

His eyes crossed, veins bulged across his neck—every fiber in his body screamed resistance. Caster looked down, smug—until the pressure beneath his legs shifted. His foot was rising. Against his will.

"Interesting!" Caster's eyes narrowed. He hadn't expected this.

Inside Jamie's head, faces flashed. Charlotte. Lora. Emily. And behind them, the other victims from the first game, the one's butchered without mercy.

"I have to become strong… Strong for them!"

The energy inside him detonated. A violent eruption tore through the room, sending shockwaves in every direction. Heat seared the air—Caster leapt back instinctively, just in time to avoid being scorched. The blast rattled the foundation, shattered stone raining down like blackened hail.

But Jamie—barely—contained it. His teammates were spared. The court, however, was not. The middle section was obliterated, chunks still smoldering as they fell from the skies.

"Is he okay?" Alexander coughed through the fresh dust, his vision burning, desperate to catch a glimpse.

Then—out of the haze—a voice replied. Different from Jamie's. Something heavier. Rougher. Dangerous.

"Never been better."

The smoke cleared. Jamie stood transformed—hair longer, eyes blazing blue, body hardened into something beyond human. Alexander and Bray froze. This wasn't the little brother they'd sworn to protect. This was something new. Something terrifying.

"We… we have to stop the training," Alexander whispered, panic sharpening his voice.

"No."

"The training continues!" Caster's voice cut across, mocking. His smirk widened. "That's way better than before."

In a flash, Jamie vanished. The ground ripped apart in his wake, air splitting with each step. His fist carved a path toward Caster's face—so fast, Caster barely dipped in time. For the first time that day, he dodged instead of parrying.

Caster countered, throwing a low jab. Jamie blocked, but the impact still flung him back. He twisted midair, landing upright, his body remembering techniques born from survival.

"PEW!" The sound cracked as Jamie hurled himself forward again, this time cloaked in raw wind. His fists no longer just defended—they attacked. Blow for blow.

Bray and Alexander staggered back, their own bruises burning. Watching was all they could do now. The power difference between them and these two was no longer a gap—it was a canyon.

"Can your mana even hold?" Caster barked, slipping strikes between laughs.

"Doesn't matter!" Jamie growled, his voice like thunder.

[+50 Strength]

[+30 Speed]

[+70 Endurance]

With every clash, his numbers spiked. He was adapting, evolving mid-battle. Their brawl tore apart the insides of the structure that remained, the entire hall trembling like it might collapse.

"They're going to bring this place down!" Bray gasped.

But Alexander only stared, mesmerized. "Unbelievable…"

Then—silence.

Caster leapt back, grin widening, something wicked sparking in his eyes.

Jamie's eyes followed him the whole way, concentrated, studying him.

"Why… why'd he back off? He had me," He muttered under his breath.

Caster's hand rose to the bangle on his wrist, fingers pinching a marble embedded in its design.

"What's he doing?" He thought, it's not often you'd see an enemy touching his weird bangle in the time of battle.

With a casual snap, it shattered into glittering shards.

Unease filled the air that second, even the side watchers were puzzled.

"Why did he did he break that Mable?"

"What does it mean?"

"What's he going to do next?"

Alot of questions that were going to be brutally answered.

Suddenly .

The ground screamed in response, vibrating harder than ever before.

"You showed me a special skill," Castor said, aura igniting around him like wildfire. "It's only fair I return the favor."

Red steam poured off his body, suffocating, poisonous to even breathe. Every instinct in the room screamed danger.

Jamie braced, sweat trickling down his temple.

In that moment, caster said the most disturbing words, words jamie never expected to hear.

[Special Skill > Red Sun >]

The room convulsed. Red light met yellow, clashing in waves of raw vibration. Alexander and Bray shouted, calling for the training to stop, their voices simply drowned in the storm.

"That power, those sparks....It's exactly like yellow sun!" He noted.

"A kid like you, already holding an S-class skill?" Caster sneered, his voice cracking through the chaos. "Interesting.....Let's push it to it limits shall we."

Jamie's eyes narrowed, jaw locked.

On his lips only selected words repeated boldly.

" I got this."

Caster overhead him instantly.

"You got this ?" he mocked. "We will see about that! "

Jamie's hair spiked upward as he poured everything into his stance. "Ready when you are."

Their eyes locked. Both smiled— witnesses unable to distinguish between the hunter and the prey.

"READY!" Caster bellowed.

Voom—!!

Both launched forward, colliding paths in a storm that threatened to tear the earth apart.

And then—

ZAP!!!

Lightning ripped from the ceiling, tearing between them, separating both mid-charge, hurling them to opposite sides of the court. The floor cracked under the force, smoke blotting out all vision.

[Stop this at once.]

The mechanical female voice cut like a blade. From the smoke, a female figure emerged, necked—unseen by everyone except the man in red aura. The same voice that had intervened in the main hall.

"Aw, come on! We were just having fun!" Caster whined, frustration pulling at his lips.

[You know exactly what that skill could unleash,] it warned.

Caster lifted his head, defiant—but even he knew resistance here was pointless.

"Jamie!" he called.

Through the rubble, Jamie's voice answered, rough but steady. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for the training!"

"No problem," Jamie smirked, yellow aura fading into smoke.

[Teleportation > Destination > HQ]

"Wait!" Jamie shouted. "What about the hall?!"

"The robots will fix it!" Caster laughed, his voice fading as he vanished.

Silence.

The smoke drifted, revealing the wreckage of the collapsed building. Alexander, Bray, and Jamie stood together, tense, breathless. The weight of what had happened pressed heavier than the dust around them.

Alexander's eyes narrowed. He had to know. "Jamie… what was that? Where did that power come from?"

Jamie knew the truth couldn't hide anymore. He told them—about the vice commander, about Glitch, about the skill but skipped the infinity feature . The cat was out of the bag. And though tension filled the cracks between them, one thing became clear: the time Alexander and Bray were talking about had finally come to pass, he could now protect himself.

.....

Meanwhile— On the other side of the city.

Grid Lions clan headquarters.

An oval chamber drowned in darkness, its countless windows covered in black cloth. Towers of sealed boxes rose in layers, glowing faintly from within. Each contained beings—elves, humans, all clad in black suits pinned with golden medals.

In some of the boxes , the four figures that smirked from the top of the hall, watching the boy's every move.

"Let the recruitment begin," a fat man's voice echoed from the boxes, slick with anticipation.

"Finally," another hissed.

"How many this round?"

"This group of players looks weak."

"We'll take only the exceptional."

"Exceptional?" an old woman scoffed. "Put all of them together, and they still couldn't lay a finger on me—blindfolded."

"As the best clan, we must recruit," another voice insisted.

"Not at the cost of our pride."

The bickering built—until a single voice sliced through.

"Alexander Smith."

The chamber froze.

"I choose Alexander Smith."

Gasps echoed through the boxes. Murmurs followed, whispers swelling like a tide. No one dared openly oppose, but none were comfortable either.

"Dora," the voice commanded.

"Yes, sir," came the reply from a female elf hidden in one of the boxes. Her voice carried loyalty sharper than steel.

"Tell them about Alexander."

She began, her words precise, recited as though carved into memory.

"Alexander Smith. Age 21. Born to two gardeners."

"Gifted with high intelligence, he joined pro-checkers at eleven."

The murmurs grew louder.

"But…" Her voice did not falter. "He killed his parents. With a kitchen knife. And fooled the police into believing it was thieves."

The silence that followed cracked into a collective gasp.

"Brutal."

"Unforgivable."

"Interesting…"

"Continue," one urged.

Dora did not hesitate. "That same year, he was secretly adopted by a family of assassins. He killed under them for ten years—until recently. When, on a mission, he sacrificed himself to save a child he was ordered to eliminate."

The chamber fell into thick silence.

Not trust. Not hatred. Something colder. A predator's recognition.

The captain's voice rose again. "As for his teammates… do as you will. I care only for that one soul."