Chapter 606: The Devil’s Playground
The room went very still.
Marcus stood motionless, the blade glinting in his hand. For a moment, Charlotte thought she had made a terrible mistake—that her words had only angered him, only made things worse.
Then he laughed.
“Keheheheh—!”
It wasn’t the cultured chuckle from before. This was something rawer. The laugh of a man who had just been genuinely surprised.
“Oh my!” He said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Who taught you such profanity, Lady Charlotte? A child of your stature, speaking in such a dirty manner. Using words like ‘balls.’ Whatever would your mother think?”
Charlotte said nothing. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears.
“But what you’re saying…” He set down the curved blade. He turned to face her fully, his masked visage unreadable. “What you’re saying is true.”
He took a step toward her.
“I haven’t been pletely honest with you. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
Another step. “I normally don’t do something like this. The mask stays on. Always. It’s part of the ritual, you see. Part of the mystique. My victims never know who I am. They die in ignorance, screaming at a faceless monster.”
He was standing directly in front of her now, close enough that she could smell the copper of dried blood on his clothes.
“But you’re different. You’re special. A daughter of the Battle Angels, the women I admire more than anyone in this world!”
“I’ve followed their exploits since I was a child!.I’ve studied their battles, their strategies, their victories! And now one of their own children has delivered herself right to my doorstep!”
His fingers curled around the mask’s edge.
“I suppose I can make an exception. Just this once.”
He began to pull the mask away.
“But don’t fall for me, Lady Charlotte.”
His voice dropped to a mischievous whisper.
“I’m told I’m quite handsome.”
The mask came off.
And the moment she saw the truth, Charlotte’s world stopped.
She knew that face. She had seen it on television screens and magazine covers and the front pages of newspapers.
She had watched it deliver confident speeches at press conferences and even in the movies she watched with her family.
It was a face that represented hope. Heroism. The triumph of good over evil.
“Marcus?” She whispered. “Marcus Williams?”
The man before her grinned. His golden eyes—those distinctive, piercing eyes that had bee his trademark gleamed with manic delight.
His silver hair, usually so perfectly styled, fell slightly across his forehead, giving him an almost boyish appearance.
He was handsome. The kind of handsome that made women swoon and men jealous.
But he was a monster.
“The very same.” Marcus swept into an exaggerated bow. “At your service, my lady.”
Charlotte’s mind reeled. “How? How is this possible? I-It can’t be you. It can’t be.”
“And yet here I stand.” Marcus straightened, his smile never wavering. “You seem surprised, Lady Charlotte. Have we met before?”
“We…We met at a party. One of the galas. You showed off your blessing—made a bird out of lightning and had it fly over the crowd. I remember clapping. I remember thinking it was beautiful.”
“Ah, yes. The Galston Foundation event.” Marcus’s eyes lit up with recognition.
“I remember that night. The champagne was excellent. The pany was tolerable. And the daughter of the Blade Maiden herself applauded my little performance.”
He pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m truly honored that you remember. Truly, deeply honored. This is one of the greatest achievements of my life!”
“But..it doesn’t make sense.”
Charlotte shook her head, her mind still struggling to reconcile the Hero she had met with the devil standing before her.
“Your blessing. Everyone knows about your A-class blessing. Storm King’s Decree.”
“You control lightning. That’s what made you famous. That’s what makes you one of the strongest Blessed in the world.”
“So, how can you possibly do…this?” She was genuinely confused. “How can you pull people’s consciousness into your dreams? That’s not—lightning doesn’t work like that. It’s impossible.”
Marcus’s grin widened.
“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear.”
He clasped his hands behind his back, assuming the relaxed posture of a lecturer about to deliver a fascinating presentation.
“It’s not just you. It’s everyone. The entire world believes I have a single blessing—that I can shoot lightning from my fingertips and generate electromagnetic fields and do all those flashy tricks that make crowds gasp and applaud.”
He paused, savoring the moment. “But that’s not quite accurate.”
He held up two fingers.
“I have two.”
Charlotte stared at the raised fingers. Her brain refused to process what she was seeing.
“Two?” She repeated. “Two blessings? That’s…that’s not…”
“Impossible? Improbable? Unheard of?” Marcus chuckled. “Oh, it’s quite possible. Extremely rare, yes. But possible. There have been cases throughout history—a handful of individuals born with not one but two blessings.”
“Usually, they’re weak. C-class. D-class. Nothing that would make anyone take notice. Two weak blessings bined are still just…weak.”
“But I’m not weak, am I!?” He chuckled arrogantly like the whole world was in his grasp.
“My first blessing was already S-class, one of the most powerful lightning abilities in recorded history. That alone would have been enough to secure my place among the elite.”
“I could have lived my entire life as a celebrated hero, beloved by all, wanting for nothing.”
His golden eyes burned with intensity.
“But the gods, it seems, weren’t satisfied. They decided I deserved more. So they gave me a second blessing. A SS-class blessing.”
“…The Devil’s Playground.”
The words hung in the air like a curse.
“SS-class.” Charlotte whispered. “That’s…That’s on the same level as…”
“As the Battle Angels? Not quite. They’re SSS-class, after all. The pinnacle of what a blessing can achieve.”
Marcus shrugged. “But close enough. Close enough to make me something unique in this world.”
“An S-class blessing and a double-S blessing, both in the same body. Has there ever been anyone like me? I don’t think so. I think I might be the first.”
He began to pace around the chair and explained.
“Even my fellow Blessed don’t know, you see. Even the people closest to me have no idea what I truly am. I’ve kept my second blessing a secret for years.”
“Of course—I’ve told people, of course. Many people.”
He stopped pacing and leaned down until his face was inches from Charlotte’s.
“But all of them are dead now. Every single one. You’re the only living soul who knows my secret.”
His breath was warm against her cheek. Charlotte forced herself not to flinch.
“Do you want to know what it does?” Marcus whispered. “Do you want to know what the Devil’s Playground really is?”
He didn’t wait for her answer.
“It’s an authority. A forbidden authority that forcibly tears the consciousness of its victim from reality and casts it into my domain. This domain. The world you’re standing in right now.”
He spread his arms, gesturing at the library around them.
“Within the Devil’s Playground, I am the absolute ruler of existence itself. Every law of reality bends to my will. Time, space, memory, sensation, emotion, perception—they’re nothing more than toys for me to reshape as I please.”
He snapped his fingers. The fireplace flames turned from orange to purple.
He snapped again, and they reverted.
“I can stretch a single moment into centuries of agony.”
“I can press a lifetime of torment into the span of a heartbeat.”
“I can make my victims experience every wound as real, every terror as absolute, every joy as genuine.”
“They can’t distinguish illusion from reality because, within this domain, there is no distinction.”
“Everything I want to be real is real.”
He leaned close again, his voice dropping to an intimate murmur.
“Once the gates of the Playground close behind you, your mind no longer belongs to you. It belongs to me.”
Charlotte felt her last shreds of hope crumbling away.
This wasn’t just a criminal who had stumbled onto a dangerous ability.
This was a monster specifically designed to be unstoppable in the realm where she should have been strongest.
Normally, her own SSS-class blessing should have made her the undisputed master of this domain.
But she was still a child. Her power was still developing, still maturing.
And Marcus’s blessing, though lower in rank, was fully realized. Fully controlled. Fully weaponized.
She was a fledgling eagle trapped in the nest of a full-grown serpent.
“And the most beautiful part?” Marcus continued, his voice bright with enthusiasm.
“Even when I drag a person’s consciousness here, I can leave a fragment of them behind. Just enough to keep their body moving in the real world.”
“They’ll be duller, of course. Less responsive. Like puppets going through the motions…”
“…but no one notices.”
He smirked cruelly. “No one ever notices. Their loved ones might think they’re depressed, or tired, or distracted by work. Meanwhile, the real person—their consciousness, their soul, everything that makes them them—is here. With me. Forever.”
He spread his arms wide, enpassing the dungeon beyond the library walls.
“Isn’t it magnificent?! Isn’t it the most beautiful blessing you’ve ever heard of!?”
Charlotte stared at him. At his golden eyes. At his perfect smile. At the face that had graced a thousand magazine covers and inspired millions of fans to hang posters on their walls.
“Why?” She whispered. “Why are you doing this?”
Marcus’s smile flickered.
“You have everything.” Charlotte continued, her voice growing stronger. “You have two blessings—an S-class and a SS-class. You’re famous. You’re loved. You’re treated like a Hero wherever you go.”
“You could have anything you want—riches, luxury, power, adoration. All you’d have to do is keep being the person everyone already thinks you are.”
“So why…why bee this?” She asked desperately.
Why torture innocent people? Why turn yourself into a monster?!”
For the first time since removing his mask, Marcus’s expression darkened.
“That’s exactly the problem, Lady Charlotte.” He stepped closer, his voice losing its playful lilt and being something harder. Something colder.
“That’s exactly the answer to your question.”
He turned away from her, walking toward the fireplace.
The flames cast dancing shadows across his face.
“Let me tell you a story, my lady…”
“The story of Marcus Williams, the most blessed man in the world.”
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