Endless Debt

Inside the screen, after Bologue finished whispering with Nesanel, Bologue set off and left, leaving Nesanel alone in the meeting room. His gaze was somewhat vacant, lost in thought for a long time, as if pondering some important matter or reminiscing about beautiful times past.

To Belphegor, this was a captivating scene: an empty, tranquil interior, with only an experienced soul remaining.

"Magnify."

Belphegor called out loudly.

As words spoke, the image in the screen enlarged significantly, as if the camera zoomed in, until Nesanel’s profile filled the view, displaying the textures, scars, and hairs on his skin clearly.

Belphegor enjoyed this moment’s close-up, he blinked, and the image was frozen, becoming part of his collection.

"What’s there to see in an old man?"

The voice abruptly intruded into Belphegor’s theater, and Belphegor, as if knowing someone would visit, showed a slight expression of helplessness and annoyance; he hated being disturbed but still responded.

"Don’t you find this scene to have artistic value?" Belphegor remarked, "Such a lonely yet resilient atmosphere."

"I’ve always disliked things like movies. More accurately, movies, novels, dramas, and similar, I loathe them all."

The person spoke while descending the stairs, black gloves adjusting his attire, straightening the tie to resemble a sword.

"I think such things are for cowards who can’t bear the harshness of reality and thus hide in the refuge of stories."

Belphegor’s face showed a bitter smile; his words were always sharp like a dagger, even after thousands of years, Belphegor was still unaccustomed.

"Are you a coward, Belphegor?"

The man came straight to Belphegor’s face, blocking the screen; under the dim light, he was as black as a silhouette.

"Me? Of course, I am a coward."

Belphegor unhesitatingly admitted, immediately sarcastically adding, "We are all cowards, greedy, fearful weaklings."

The man snorted coldly and sat back, resting on the back of the front row seat.

Belphegor looked up, observing his blood kin, simply dressed, without any flashy adornments, just the simplest formal attire, the man’s face shrouded in unknowable shadows, yet his luminous blue eyes visible, like stars embedded in the night.

Anyone meeting this gaze would inexplicably feel a sense of reverence, even Belphegor would often feel this emotion, then crush it forcefully.

"How many years have it been since we last met?" Belphegor knew he couldn’t watch the film anymore, calmly said, "Why suddenly come to find me? Moreover, aren’t we supposed to be enemies now?"

"There are no absolute enemies, only interests, even if we are blood kin."

The man bluntly stated, "Leviathan is dangerous."

Belphegor shivered briefly, then laughed calmly.

"Of course, I know he is dangerous, among our blood kin, he is one of the two I am most wary of."

Belphegor spoke while stuffing popcorn into his mouth, speaking with muffled clarity, "He always hides in shadows, researching deadly plots. If anyone among us is likely to prevail, I guess it’s probably him."

"Who is the other person?"

"Mammon, though he appears always smiling and willing to make deals with anyone, don’t forget his burden of Original Sin."

Belphegor sighed, "Greed, an insatiable desire for everything... How similar to our beginnings, for life, time, power, authority, status, the most primal, most fervent desires.

If Leviathan embodies conspiracy, employing all means for his envied object, then Mammon is pure desire.

The most devilish... devil? Hahaha."

Belphegor gave a deep gaze, meeting the man’s eyes, "I wouldn’t underestimate him."

The man was silent for a while, his hands crossed in front, "I thought you would be more reverent of me."

"Because you possess the most potent strength? No, no, how could I?"

Belphegor acted as if drunk, carelessly picked up a drink and gulped it down, "Indeed, you possess potent strength, but it’s just pure strength."

The man proudly stated, "Pure strength is enough, break mountains upon encounter, disperse storms upon encounter."

"See, you’re always like this, thinking strength can solve all problems, like Samuel, recklessly using violence, believing it’s the solution to all issues."

Belphegor shook his head, "Strength is merely a tool, a sword. How effective it is depends on the one wielding it, and you, my blood kin, you’re not an excellent swordsman."

The man listened attentively; he rarely showed such patience for anyone.

"You’re too arrogant, indeed, you are arrogance itself, despising all things in the world, even me, your blood kin, in your eyes is but a slightly larger wild dog."

Belphegor continued, "Gaining unimaginable power from Original Sin, but the cost is being influenced by desire’s inertia."

He smiled at the shadow before him, "To me, you’re transparent, your intentions and objectives are too predictable, even saying they can be used against you."

"Like Samuel?" the man asked.

"Yes, like Samuel," Belphegor said, "We use him as a trumpet of war in each conflict, announcing the start of the slaughter, and each time he’s utilized by us, yet he can’t control the fury within him.

The biggest difference between you and him is, you can stay rational, though this rationality is frequently tainted by arrogance."

The man kept his head high, seemingly unwilling to bow for anyone, his luminous eyes filled with coldness and disdain.

"When Raymond Gaudent was destroyed, Beelzebub was present; she said she sensed Leviathan had changed," the man gazed at Belphegor’s face, contemplated his expression while informing, "His internal thoughts have drastically changed from the past, like occupied by another consciousness. She worries this conflict might be another terrible conspiracy and trap."

"Oh... I feel it’s Mammon who should be meeting me, he’s more adept at rhetoric," Belphegor paid no mind to the man’s words, "Did something happen to hold him back?"

Belphegor suddenly showed a twisted smile, revealing teeth stained with dark grime.

"Blood kin, here’s a piece of advice: when you think I’m being used by Leviathan, consider if you’re also being used by others."

Strange screams emerged from the speakers, chilling sounds echoed from all directions; as the decibel reached the human hearing limit, it suddenly fell silent.

Belphegor retracted his smile, gestured for the man to step aside.

"Please don’t waste time on me, Unfettered Poetry Society has long been fragmented by the fight with Zongge Orchestra, and my poets are nearly exhausted; this world’s Calamity has been shredded by the monsters Asmodeus breeds, as for my Chosen One...

Belphegor’s voice gradually withered, then loudly continued, "For you all, I’m of no use—except for the authority I wield."

The man silently scrutinized Belphegor, listened quietly.

"So, hurry along, I still want to continue watching the film; next is when the real drama begins."

Belphegor wearily waved, attempting to urge the man to leave.

Unusually, the man obeyed his words, stood straight, walked off to the side, but before leaving, asked back, "I feel you’ve changed a lot; is it that centuries have finally altered your disposition? Like Samuel growing indifferent to war."

Belphegor focused on the screen, eyes unwavering, "You, Mammon, Leviathan, none of you are good, yet I choose Leviathan; you know why?"

"He promised higher value?"

"No."

Belphegor turned his head, "Leviathan surprisingly loves movies like me, even understanding more than I do, unlike you, a completely different type of bastard."