**Chapter 8: The Stage Was Perfectly Set**
Misty clouds shrouded the city, and a massive, lead-gray cloud layer covered the sky. Gothic-style buildings rose from the ground, their continuous silhouettes outlined against the gloom. It was as if the entire city was enveloped by pitch-black magic, a gray miasma clinging like iron chains, slowly devouring souls that had fallen in exhaustion.
This was Gotham, a city perpetually dark, even in the daytime.
Orin Vale changed into his night-ops gear and followed the direction indicated by the bracelet's marker, arriving in a dark, filthy alley.
Sewage overflowed onto the street, and a thick layer of dust coated the dilapidated windows, as if the grime of ages had accumulated there. Even the light at the alley's entrance seemed dim and faint.
A dead end.
Orin Vale stopped at the mouth of the alley and reconfirmed the coordinate. The marker was indeed pointing here; he hadn't come to the wrong place.
"If I were you, I would leave this place, child."
An aged voice sounded from behind him. Orin Vale turned to its source and saw an Old Man appear at the alley's entrance.
His body was withered, his coat filthy, and as he stood there, he seemed to merge into the shadows. His face was gaunt and ancient, the crisscrossing wrinkles a silent testament to a life weathered by storms. His prominent aquiline nose was covered in the traces of time's erosion.
On the surface, he looked like a homeless person, yet he exuded an indescribable air of majesty.
"Leave here. Now."
The Old Man spoke sharply, his tone more of a command than a request.
"While you still can, child. Otherwise..."
Before he could finish, a sinister "Jie-jie-jie-jie" cackle echoed from the shadows.
"Oh, damn it," the Old Man's brow furrowed. "It's too late."
The shadows at the alley's entrance began to churn like a fluid, quickly surging upwards to form a black, grotesque figure.
The thing had a humanoid shape but bore a massive, blackish-green carapace on its back, covered in dense, spiky bristles. Its fluorite-like eyes glinted in the darkness, and its legs seemed to be composed of hundreds of slender, silvery tentacles, a truly chilling sight.
"A Demon Spirit, a lackey of Black Magic." The Old Man snorted with contempt. "Since when did a half-baked minion like you dare to face me?"
"Since you've grown so weak you can't even sit steadily on your throne at the Rock of Eternity, old thing."
The Demon Spirit cackled strangely twice.
"Nine thousand years. Every single day, you've grown older and weaker. Finally, not so tough anymore, are you? Old thing?"
*Wow, nine thousand years old. He's actually older than me, an Ultraman,* Orin Vale thought to himself.
The Rock of Eternity, the Wizard... he had a growing suspicion.
This Old Man was likely the Old Wizard from the movie *Shazam!*—the one who bestowed Billy Batson with the abilities of seven deities, the original Shazam.
This old fellow's background was truly impressive, one of the world's most powerful wizards. In both the original work and the movie, he was so ancient that he searched the entire world for a successor who met his condition of having "the purest spirit" to inherit his Divine Power.
It was basically the American Comic Magic version of the traditional Xianxia story: "A Master is on the verge of death and is desperately looking for a disciple to give his nine thousand years of Cultivation to for free."
The Wizard grunted in a deep voice, "I may be old, but I am still the Guardian of the Rock of Eternity, the Commander of all Magic in the world, the suppressor of the Ancient Demonic Beasts!
"What gives you the right to make an enemy of me? Begone!"
With a great shout, the Wizard raised his right hand, and in his palm, light and electricity instantly appeared!
It was as if he held solid Lightning in his hand, which he then threw like a piercing javelin. The golden electric light instantly illuminated the entire alley, dispelling all darkness. It was like Zeus casting a lightning bolt from the peak of Olympus, or Odin, riding his eight-legged steed, hurling his eternal spear!
And then...
And then nothing happened.
The lightning struck the Demon Spirit, possibly—maybe—inflicting "1 Health Point" of damage.
Even Orin Vale fell silent watching this.
*So, the special effects look amazing, but the damage output is practically zero?*
His opponent was completely unscathed. In contrast, the Wizard's knees buckled, and he collapsed to one knee as if his vitality had been completely scooped out.
"I... am too weak..." he gasped. "I have defeated ancient Demon Gods and suppressed countless disasters. To think I would one day fall to such a state..."
"Hahahaha! I told you, your era is over, old man. The Rock of Eternity is as good as ours, and soon all the magic in the world will be under our Lord's command!"
"You wish!"
The Old Man stubbornly pushed himself to his feet. His withered body revealed a tenacity that belied his appearance, like a green bamboo stalk refusing to break in the wind.
He took a deep breath and stood protectively in front of Orin Vale.
"You should go, young man. Get away from this place," he said with difficulty. "I may be old, but I still have a few trump cards left. A mere Demon Spirit won't take me down so easily.
"You take this chance to... *Uwaah!*"
As he spoke, he coughed up another mouthful of blood.
Orin Vale: "..."
*No wonder the Old Man is in such a hurry to find a successor; he's really about to croak.* But it made sense. He was, at his core, a mortal. To have his life extended to over nine thousand years by the power of Shazam was already a heaven-defying feat. His time had long since come.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and said tenaciously, "I have guarded this world for nine thousand years. Even if my fate is to be severed here, I have no regrets.
"And even if you step over my corpse, you will find that this world will always have its guardians. Today, with the blood of the Wizard Shazam, I will make you vile Demon Spirits understand—"
However, the Old Wizard never got to finish his speech.
Just as he reached that part, an intense light burst erupted from the spot he was shielding with his body.
It lit up the heavens and tore the darkness asunder.
Specium Ray!
For a moment, the Demon Spirit was stunned.
It hadn't anticipated this attack in the slightest, or rather, even if it had, there was nothing it could have done.
The oncoming energy beam contained an immense, terrifying power!
It was merely a Lower Tier Demon Spirit. In its entire life, it had almost never witnessed such an extravagant display. It could barely imagine what tier of magic would be required to match such might.
*These bastards are all liars! They said the Old Wizard was on his last breath and anyone could come and kick him while he was down! Where did this monster come from?*
A final thought flashed through its mind in its last moments.
*The Human World is terrifying. I want to go back to Hell...*
Then, it was consumed by the light.
After the blast subsided, specks of light and electricity dissipated, leaving behind radiating ionization traces in the air as electric serpents crackled and sparked.
Orin Vale retracted his right hand. The light energy cannon on his arm automatically transformed and folded, shrinking back into his bracelet.
It was another wonderful function of the bracelet: a four-dimensional storage box. Just as Zero's transformation glasses were hidden in his bracelet, Orin Vale's bracelet also had a storage function.
Orin Vale turned to look at the Old Wizard. "You were saying?"
The Old Wizard, who had been in the middle of his grand oration, opened his mouth, but the second half of his impassioned, tear-jerking speech was forcefully swallowed back down.
The mood had been perfectly set up, but in the end, he hadn't died, and his opponent had been one-shotted.
For a moment, an awkward atmosphere permeated the air.
(end of chapter)