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[email protected]/Heroicverse
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Soon after.
Frank and the two others appeared in a bookstore not open to the public.
"Edward, thank you for accommodating us on such short notice."
Daimon Hellstorm greeted the middle-aged man with glasses standing behind the counter, familiar with him.
"Please don't say that, Mr. Hellstorm. It is my greatest honor to serve a distinguished Son of Hell like you."
The man named Edward pulled out a thick book from under the counter and, while handing it to Daimon Hellstorm, introduced it:
"Thanks to your call in advance, it gave me ample time to find this book, which records the whereabouts of that dwarven blacksmith, from the archives."
Daimon Hellstorm took the book and said, deeply moved, "My friend, I don't know how to thank you enough... However, besides this book, I am actually looking for another book!"
"Just tell me, my archives have everything!"
"This..."
Daimon Hellstorm scratched his head, a bit embarrassed, "To be honest, I don't know what book I'm looking for, or what its specific content is."
"I only know it's a major event that's about to happen, likely involving both Heaven and Hell."
"If you can use your seasoned experience to help me find this book, you can name your price!"
"Can I really name my price?"
The shop owner Edward raised his hand, took off his glasses, and slowly turned his gaze to Frank and the other, saying, "I might have already guessed which book you're looking for, but the reward... it must be that silver coin in the hands of those two men!!"
Daimon Hellstorm's pupils constricted, and he immediately became wary, but he found that Frank and Logan Howlett, who were beside him, had already entered a state of high alert at some unknown point, clearly having sensed something unusual long ago.
"How did you know that silver coin was in our hands?"
"Respected Mr. Hellstorm, I regret I cannot answer your question... But what I want you to know is that what I am about to do is not out of disrespect to you, but simply to reclaim that silver bullet from those two humans."
Edward's body began to expand rapidly, and in the blink of an eye, he had transformed into a three-meter-tall horned demon, his crimson eyes fixed on Daimon Hellstorm.
"Of course, if you are willing to hand over the silver bullet directly now, I guarantee that you can leave my bookstore with dignity."
As the two spoke, the passersby who were originally scattered in front of the bookshelves reading books also revealed their true forms—demons with sulfurous stench and ferocious faces!!
"Tsk tsk, I knew it, how could there be so many book-loving demons."
Frank's face revealed a bloodthirsty smile as he slowly drew his beloved BUSSE M combat machete from its scabbard at his waist.
Whoosh—
Holy psionic flames immediately ignited on the blade.
"F*ck! Can't these damn bastards wait five more seconds?"
Logan Howlett silently pulled a crumpled ten-dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to Frank, a bit pained.
In fact, the two of them had already noticed the anomaly in the bookstore as soon as they entered.
After all, the probability of encountering a dozen studious demons might be even lower than winning 1 billion U.S. dollars in the Mega Millions.
But for Frank, a mere dozen demons weren't enough for him to kill alone; they were nothing to fear.
So he privately bet with Logan Howlett whether these demons would make a move within 1 minute, and the stake was only ten dollars.
Logan Howlett originally wanted to refuse because he only had ten dollars left in his pocket.
But after hearing Frank let him choose first, he decisively bet on beyond 1 minute.
His thinking was simple: let's just say, as long as it's a normal person... ah no, a normal demon, they shouldn't be as impatient as a young punk, immediately getting into a fight upon meeting, right?
Facts proved, they really would.
He originally planned to win enough for a pack of cigarettes, but who would have thought his pockets were now emptier than his face.
This undoubtedly made Logan Howlett's already not-so-rich life even more difficult!!
They say a penny can stump a hero...
Now, he didn't even have a penny.
Clang—
Sharp Adamantium Claws popped out from his fists, and the angry "Old Wolf" charged towards the demons.
You bastards, give me back my ten dollars!!!
Frank almost burst out laughing at the sight, then also joined the battle with his machete.
...
prestige points +444, +11, +11...
Detected collectible demon soul fragments, Warp soul count +1, +1, +1...
...
This battle came and ended quickly.
In just a few minutes, all dozen demons were reduced to ashes under the holy flames blessed by the Emperor.
"Frank, is that guy really the Son of Satan?"
Logan Howlett glanced at Daimon Hellstorm, who was fighting back and forth with the demon shop owner opposite, even seemingly at a disadvantage, and frowned:
"As a 'half-demon,' he can't even handle a single demon. Isn't his strength too weak?"
"Don't worry, Boss's judgment is absolutely correct... He's probably been imprisoned by the Vatican for too long, and his power hasn't fully recovered yet."
Frank re-sheathed his machete, then chuckled, "Logan, want to start another round? This time, let's bet if he can finish the battle within five minutes?"
"No... No money!"
"I can lend it to you first; just pay me back when you get paid."
"Wait a minute? I still have a salary?"
"Oh, sorry, I just forgot. Although the company provided food and lodging for your three years of debt repayment, there was no salary... But it's okay, I can still let you choose first this time."
"Still not playing!"
"The prize this time is one hundred dollars. Take a gamble, turn a bicycle into a motorcycle, eh?"
"No..."
Four minutes later, upon seeing Daimon Hellstorm suddenly go all out and painstakingly defeat that demon, Logan Howlett suddenly felt like his world was collapsing!
Now, he had gone from having nothing to being one hundred dollars in debt...
"Edward, I'm very disappointed. I've always considered you a friend all these years."
Daimon Hellstorm looked at Frank with some apprehension. During the battle, he had clearly seen how the other party had cut down those demons as easily as slicing melons and vegetables.
Although all the demons that came this time were miscellaneous, they were by no means something a human could deal with alone.
And the flames emanating from the short blade in the other party's hand could directly harm the essence of a demon's soul, thereby truly killing those demons!
It was only then that he truly realized that Karl's previous order to have Frank watch him and kill him directly if there was anything unusual was absolutely not just talk.
But fortunately, he had decided to cooperate fully from the start...
"Thank you."
Taking the rope, found from who knows where, from Frank's hand, Daimon Hellstorm hung the demon shop owner, who had returned to human form, upside down on the fan. Then, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, he said breathlessly:
"If you don't want to turn to ash like your friends, you'd better answer every one of my questions truthfully next."
"First, what was this ambush about?"
Edward, who was slowly rotating with the ceiling fan, said apologetically, "Oh, respected Mr. Hellstorm, I am truly sorry. I hope this conflict hasn't damaged our friendship..."
"Less talk, get to the point!"
"Okay, last night someone posted a high bounty in Sulphur Harbor. The content was simple: capture your two human friends and retrieve that silver bullet from them."
"Who posted the bounty?"
Daimon Hellstorm frowned slightly, asking with an extremely grave expression, "And how did you know they were with me?"
"I don't know who the poster is, but this message was directly conveyed by the female demigod known as 'Night Jackal'."
Edward swallowed with difficulty, saying with lingering fear, "Then she secretly found me again and insisted that your two human friends would definitely come here in the next few days to search for clues related to that dwarven blacksmith, and told me to make sure to capture them and retrieve the silver bullet at that time."
Finally, he didn't forget to plead bitterly, "Mr. Hellstorm, I swear... I really only know this much!!"
"Wait a minute, are you saying that 'demigod' actually predicted our itinerary in advance?"
Daimon Hellstorm's face showed a hint of surprise. He pinched his chin and immediately fell into thought.
He couldn't quite understand how Razan had predicted in advance that they would come here to look for clues about the dwarven blacksmith.
Could it be that something leaked from the Vatican?
Or does Razan, or the human Black Wizard behind her, possess some magic that can sense that silver bullet from a distance?
Time passed bit by bit, but Frank and Logan Howlett, who were standing behind on alert, did not interrupt his thinking at all throughout.
After all, before leaving the Vatican, Karl had explicitly instructed them that all matters related to tracking the silver coin and the demon plan would be led by Daimon Hellstorm.
"Alright, I believe you on this matter."
After a long silence, Daimon Hellstorm, still without a clue, had no choice but to temporarily put aside his doubts and continue with the subsequent questions.
"The second question... What major event is about to happen recently? I remember you said you had already guessed which book I was looking for after I finished speaking!"
"That's right."
Edward said cautiously, "Mr. Hellstorm, I think you are probably looking for the book that records the Truce Agreement, and in a few days, the Truce Agreement will randomly descend upon a certain location in America."
"It is precisely because of this that those old fellows with long lifespans will leave here in advance to avoid the limelight in other countries."
"Oh, by the way, that book is now located on the... of the fifth shelf in the archives..."
More than half an hour later.
Logan Howlett pointed to the ancient book, full of demonic script and illustrations, placed on the table, and asked somewhat confusedly:
"What exactly is that 'Truce Agreement' he just mentioned?"
"It's an ancient agreement that was established before I was born." Daimon Hellstorm slowly closed the book, saying with an extremely solemn expression:
"The Truce Agreement can also be called the 'Millennium Pact'... You can simply understand it as a special diplomatic summit between Heaven and Hell that is held only once every thousand years."
"Huh?"
Frank and Logan Howlett were both a bit dumbfounded.
They had only heard that leaders of various countries would hold summits irregularly to discuss major issues together. How did Heaven and Hell start holding summits too?
By the way... Aren't they enemies?
What kind of summit are they holding?!
"Presumably, you've heard the story of the fallen Angels... Uh, at least you should be familiar with its basic content, right?"
Daimon Hellstorm received a less-than-friendly response from their faces, so he succinctly explained:
"A long, long time ago, a great rebellion occurred in Heaven. Seraph Lucifer led nearly one-third of Heaven's Angels, abandoning their faith in God, and declared war on God from Heaven's northern border.
A great battle thus began. After three days of fierce fighting, Lucifer's rebels were defeated by the Angel Legion led by Seraph Michael.
Lucifer and his subordinates were expelled by God and cast into Hell. Before leaving, he uttered those Earth-shattering words—'Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven'.
From then on, this part of the Angels came to be known as fallen Angels... or devils!!"
"If the content recorded in this book is correct, then this Truce Agreement was signed at that time."
"As for the participating parties, naturally, they are Heaven and Hell..."
"Wait a minute."
Frank suddenly interrupted, "Assuming Heaven and Hell are truly in endless conflict as the book says,
Then why would they set the time for the Truce Agreement at a thousand years, and not some other time?"
"It's simple." Daimon Hellstorm took a deep breath and explained with a hint of helplessness, "For the warring parties, every thousand years is as short as a human year!"
"And the battlefield chosen for this never-ending war happens to be Earth..."
"But to prevent this war from affecting humanity, an effective set of combat rules must be established for it... or rather, a 'safety mechanism' would be more appropriate."
"Thus, every thousand years when the Truce Agreement is convened, Heaven and Hell will select a non-combat zone somewhere in America.
The designated envoys from both sides will hold negotiations there on certain unresolved major issues, set conditions for each other, vent their grievances, exchange hostages, and so on..."