Chapter 112: Many eyes watching
The shaky camera of a demonic television broadcast displayed grainy images of the arena. The announcer, with a voice dripping with drama, narrated Magnus Phenex's defeat with fervent enthusiasm.
"It was an unprecedented moment in the history of great demonic battles!" he exclaimed as the screen showed Vergil in all his glory, with Zuri casually munching on the remains of the phoenix in the background. "Magnus Phenex, an heir to an Archon lineage, was utterly humiliated by this man—Vergil Agares, Baal, and Sitri! The question everyone is asking is: who exactly is this mysterious combatant?"
The scene shifted to interviews with stunned demons in the audience.
"He's like a god… or maybe an even greater demon!" said a young man with short horns and a terrified expression.
"Vergil? Never heard of him before, but now… it's like all of Hell can't stop talking about him!" exclaimed a woman with dark skin and fiery eyes.
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The television shifted again, showing dramatic headlines:
**"The New Heir of Hell?"**
**"Vergil: A Throne for Three Lineages?"**
**"Three Beautiful Demonic Wives?!"**
**"Three of Hell's Four Most Beautiful Women Dominated by One Man! Who is Vergil?!"**
**"The Disciple of Sapphire Agares Is Actually Her Son-in-Law!"**
Vergil was seated on a sofa in the grand hall of his mansion, staring at the television with a completely baffled expression. His wives, Katharina, Roxanne, and Ada, were scattered around the room, watching the news with reactions ranging from amusement to pride.
He frowned, pointing at the screen.
"Can someone explain to me how the Hell—literally—there's television here?"
Roxanne, lounging on the couch beside him, laughed so hard she nearly spilled her glass of wine. "Oh, my darling… you really don't get it, do you?"
"I get that we're in Hell," Vergil retorted, "and that this place should be, I don't know, more medieval! You know—fire, brimstone, chains—not… this." He gestured toward the television, which now aired a bizarre commercial for energy potions.
Ada, seated elegantly in an armchair, smiled gently. "You still have so many human ideas," she remarked, nearly laughing. "Hell has evolved. Do you really think demons, with all their ambition and creativity, would remain stuck in an age of darkness? We have technology."
"But how does it work? There aren't even satellites down here!" He threw his hands up, clearly exasperated.
At that moment, Viviane, Vergil's ever-diligent maid, entered the room carrying a tray of tea. She was a reserved figure, with silver hair tied into a bun and impeccable posture.
"Actually, my lord," she began, setting the tray on the table, "it's quite simple. Radio and television signals in Hell are transmitted via an arcane energy system created by witches, connected to the residual magical flows that permeate the Underworld. It's a fusion of mortal technology and demonic magic."
Vergil blinked, processing. "Arcane energy? For cable TV?"
Viviane gave a slight bow. "Precisely. And cell phones work here too, if you recall. The signal is amplified by infernal crystals acting as antennas, allowing even the most remote corners of Hell to receive high-quality transmissions. Quite ingenious, if I may say so."
Katharina laughed, clutching Vergil's arm and pulling him closer. "My love, you've become powerful, but sometimes you're so… old-fashioned. It's adorable."
Vergil shot her a tired look but couldn't help a faint smile. "And you knew about this?"
"Of course I knew," she replied with a shrug. "I've even appeared in a few of these broadcasts. I'm a model in Hell, you know. The public adores me. There was a special on promising heirs. Though my mother doesn't care, sometimes demons of Agares need reminding that we own the place."
Roxanne leaned forward, a mischievous grin on her face. "And now here we are, married to the most talked-about man in Hell. Isn't that ironic?"
"I'm still processing the fact that we have something like demonic television," muttered Vergil, glancing back at the screen where a commentator was now dramatically gesturing, discussing the "unmatched greatness" of his victory.
Viviane, ever pragmatic, adjusted her glasses as she replied, "Progress doesn't stop, even in Hell, Lord Vergil. Demonic culture is driven by status and influence. What better way to showcase that than through media?"
"It's a weapon," Ada added, her voice calm yet heavy with meaning. "Media in Hell is more a tool of power than entertainment. An image broadcast to millions can be as lethal as a sword—especially in Paimon's hands."
Vergil sighed, leaning back into the sofa. "So now I'm a demon celebrity? Perfect. Just what I needed."
"I could do without it," he said, though his faint smile betrayed his amusement.
Viviane picked up the tray again, giving a slight bow before leaving. "If you need more information about Hell's infrastructure, I am at your service, my lord."
As she left, Katharina pulled Vergil closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "You might hate it now, but this is for the best. With three clans backing your name, you're practically untouchable in the Underworld. Plus, you now have immunity from demon hunters, exorcists, and the like, thanks to the non-aggression pact with the noble houses."
"It's still annoying," he grumbled, though there was a note of boredom in his voice. "There are over two hundred reporters outside."
Ada stood, walking over to the window to gaze at the dark horizon of Hell. "Well, now you have something bigger than a simple victory. You've got eyes on you, Vergil. All eyes."
As they looked outside and spotted paparazzi peeking into the mansion, Vergil muttered, "These guys have no boundaries." With a motion of his hands, he raised an enormous wall of solid blood around the property.
"When did you learn to solidify blood?" Ada asked, her tone curious as she turned to him.
"I saw your insolent mother do it, so I copied her," Vergil said with a shrug.
"You could've just asked me to teach you," Ada pouted.
"I know, darling, but as I said, I just saw it and copied it," he replied, nonchalantly shrugging again.
"Speaking of which, I feel like someone's missing. Your mother is a demon who keeps her word, isn't she?" he asked Ada.
"Well, she is a woman of her word… though she's an absolute blade fanatic," Ada replied.
"I see. I'll wait for her to personally deliver her soul to me, then. A deal is a deal," he said with a sly smile.
Before he could continue, a young girl entered the room. She stood about 4'9" tall, with black hair, wearing a dark purple dress with silver accents and a lotus flower pinned to her hair.
"Hmm, you look lovely. Do you like this kind of outfit?" Vergil asked Alice, who couldn't speak, though her expression said everything. She nodded and gave a small smile.
"She doesn't even look like the little girl who was covered in injuries. Viviane did a great job," Katharina remarked. 'Though I don't like having her here… she won't steal my husband.'
Vergil approached Alice, kneeling to meet her at eye level. He gently brushed aside a stray lock of her hair and smiled. "You're strong, Alice. You've been through so much, but now you're home. We'll make sure nothing like that ever happens again."
Alice looked up at him with admiration, and for a brief moment, her small smile widened as he softly patted her head.
"You're spoiling her," Katharina commented, her tone lighter now, though her eyes still watched Alice closely.
"She deserves it," Vergil replied simply, not taking his eyes off the girl.
Roxanne, always quick with her provocative comments, stretched out on the couch and laughed. "You know, sweetie, if you keep being this considerate, this house is going to be full of adopted orphans."
Ada, still standing by the window, shot Roxanne a meaningful look. "He's just doing what's right. There's nothing wrong with protecting the vulnerable... though this little girl is quite suspicious."
Viviane entered the room at that moment, carrying a tray with tea and small cakes. She cast a satisfied glance at Alice before speaking.
"I'm glad you like the dress, Miss Alice. It was made especially for you. I want you to know that this house is a safe place where you can be whoever you want to be."
Alice responded with another small nod and delicately took one of the cakes Viviane offered.
Vergil stood and looked at Viviane. "You've really exceeded my expectations, Viviane. Thank you for taking such good care of her."
Viviane gave a modest bow. "It is my duty, my lord. And I must say, Miss Alice has an admirable inner strength. She will thrive here."
"Now… why are you speaking like this, you malevolent spirit?" Vergil asked suddenly, making Viviane freeze.
"My lord, I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied, keeping her composure, though there was a faint apprehension in her voice, and a bead of sweat began to slide down her temple.
Vergil raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, you really don't, do you?"
Before Viviane could respond, Roxanne chimed in with a sly grin, still lounging on the couch with a half-bitten cake in hand.
"She's scared now," Roxanne remarked, pointing her fork at Viviane as if revealing a long-held secret. "Because before, she was more confident, said what she wanted, acted like a force of nature. But now, after you defeated Magnus, she's nervous. I think she's worried you'll decide to get revenge on her."
Viviane pressed her lips together, her neutral expression betraying a hint of discomfort.
"Oh?" Vergil leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand with a smile that was equal parts curious and faintly teasing. "Fufufu~" His soft laugh echoed through the room.
Leaning back in his chair, he relaxed again. "Well," he said in a casual tone, "do as you wish, Viviane. I don't mind… as long as you continue to take good care of Alice."
Viviane took a deep breath, her posture returning to its usual poised state. "Certainly, my lord. Alice will continue to receive the best care this house can offer."
"Now," Vergil said, turning his gaze back to the little girl, "let's address a problem I've been meaning to fix for a few days… Little Alice, you're going to speak again."