Chapter 219 – Greed Style
While demons saw a lot of weird things here...
They didn’t usually see a half-Greed, half-Lust royal, clad in full battle armor, step out of a restricted infernal elevator with two glowing daggers in his hands.
Lux ignored all of it.
Not a glance.
Not a smirk.
Not a wink.
Just smooth, purposeful movent.
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t pause.
Just walked.
The mont his boots hit the edge of the patterned rug, his wings snapped open—long, dark, batlike things edged with glimring infernal glyphs. The wind gust they created knocked over a small tower of martini glasses on the lobby bar.
No one stopped him.
No one dared.
He took off in a burst of speed, rising through the atrium like a silent storm, and shot through the ceiling’s shadow rift exit—ant for nobles and winged guests only.
Outside.
Heat.
Dry air.
Sun gone.
Pride Ring night glowed with its usual surreal intensity—neon and fire and pure arrogance.
Even the slums here had fountains. The trash bins were shaped like carved dragons. And every house—even the cheapest—had obsidian glass windows and stylized rooftop horns.
It was like walking through a fantasy magazine where everything tried too hard to be intimidatingly hot.
Lux hovered in the air for a second, eyes glowing.
[Coordinates marked. You are three blocks away.]
He turned without a word and flew, silent but fast, cutting through the Pride Ring skyline like a fallen star who was so done with everyone’s bullshit.
It didn’t take long.
The target location?
A repurposed multi-floor casino.
Neon lights flickering in vulgar reds and purples.
Painted murals of demons mid-fight, mid-kiss, mid-boast.
The lower floors had been converted into rc quarters—clearly. You could tell from the security sigils slapped over the windows and the not-so-subtle Bounty Vault rune etched into the front.
But Lux didn’t land right away.
He hovered mid-air, a good twenty ters out, wings beating slow and deliberate.
He stared at the building for a mont.
Then—
[Do you want to knock, Sir?]
Lux tilted his head. Just slightly.
"Knock?"
He grinned.
"Oh, sweet thing..."
He raised both arms.
"I burn."
The glyphs on his chest ignited.
A whisper of fla crawled up his armor. His hair blew back from the sheer pressure of rising heat.
[Skill Activated Hellfire Rain]
The sky above him cracked—like glass shattering inward—revealing a swirl of red clouds and black smoke. From that hole, dozens—hundreds—of burning spears of fire materialized in a circular pattern.
And then— they dropped.
-Boom!
-Boom!
-BOOM!
A hailstorm of molten infernal spikes ca crashing down across the casino’s front half, shattering windows, collapsing balconies, and igniting every single pride-soaked banner in an instant.
The screams started imdiately.
Lux could hear the panic from inside— demons shouting, running, spells activating too late.
Sowhere, soone yelled, "THE SKY’S BLEEDING!"
Good.
He laughed.
Not wild. Not cruel.
Just amused.
Like he was watching a child trip over a wine bottle they stole.
[Damage Report: 38% of exterior compromised. Panic status: High. Defensive asures activating.]
"Perfect," Lux said smoothly. "Let them know I’m here."
Then he dropped.
Wings folded in.
He crashed through the front of the building—glass exploding around him in slow-motion shards—straight through the charred doors and into the still-burning lounge.
The mont he landed, he slashed Devorare once— and the ceiling fan above him fell in half.
Smoke curled around his boots.
Demons scrambled across the hallway—so half-dressed, so trying to charge spells, others already mid-sprint away from the wreckage.
Lux stepped over a twitching gargoyle body.
One of the guards tried to raise a spear—
Lux flicked Amare.
The spear dropped. So did the arm.
He didn’t even blink.
[Target floor is two levels down. Path marked.]
He turned his head slowly to a nearby Imp cowering behind an overturned table.
"Basent," Lux said calmly. "Now."
The Imp pointed, visibly shaking.
Lux stepped past him, straight into the next corridor where the ergency glyph lights flickered red—panicked laughter and alarms blaring in the distance.
The stench of charred velvet, blood, and ego-drenched cologne hit his nose like a broken promise. Paintings burned on the walls. Gilded chairs were overturned and trampled. Sowhere above, the harpist had stopped playing. Probably dead. Hopefully dramatic about it.
It didn’t matter.
Not anymore.
Because the air down here?
It was thick with the scent of real killers.
Not bounty board clowns or wannabe enforcers in rented armor.
These were underworld demons.
Actual gang-bred, blood-oathed, cut-your-throat-for-sport types.
Syndicate rcs. Underground assassins. Ex-nobles turned feral. Pride Ring’s nastiest trash with sugarcoated smiles and a body count that could bankrupt Heaven.
And yet—
Lux kept walking.
Silent. Smooth. Not even breaking stride.
His blades glead in the ergency red light like teeth.
This wasn’t the lobbying Lux.
Not the silver-tongued consultant who once walked into the Pride Ring’s palace with wine in one hand and a ledger in the other, charming high demons into forgiving 600-year-old debts with just a smirk and a wink.
No.
This was the other Lux.
The one people forgot about.
The one who trained in Hell’s military academy and chose assassination over leadership.
The one who didn’t believe in glory or armies.
Just—clean kills.
Quiet looting.
Greed-style solutions.
Quick. Silent. Efficient.
But this ti?
He wasn’t silent.
He wasn’t clean.
He wasn’t even trying.
Because in the Pride territory... if you wanted answers, you didn’t sneak.
You made a scene.
You made noise.
You made the walls bleed your na.
So yeah.
He was done whispering.
And the mont the first demon turned the corner—
Lux was already in motion.
A large, hamr-wielding brute ca barreling toward him, eyes glowing and mouth foaming with infernal adrenaline.
Lux didn’t stop.
He twisted—teleporting behind the beast mid-charge with a ripple of warped light—and plunged Amare straight into the back of his neck.
The demon jerked—mouth going wide—before Lux twisted the blade, dragged it down the spine, and kicked the corpse forward with a sickening crack.
The head rolled.
So did the hamr.
Lux didn’t take either.
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