He sat cross-legged in the quiset room, deep in meditation, his focus locked onto the Crimson Core, which had now taken the shape of a faint, flickering ring around his right hand.
The glow was soft, but the power beneath it pulsed with density—like a star waiting to collapse or explode.
He could feel the Concept of the Black Star becoming deeper, more intricate.
But the second stage still eluded him.
The thought circled as time slipped past unnoticed, like water down a drain. No hunger. No thirst. Just thought and pressure.
A question without an answer.
"Mr. Dirga," came Wish’s cheerful voice from beyond the wooden door. "It’s time to eat. Mr. Sasa is already waiting for you."
Dirga exhaled slowly, grounding himself.
The ring dimmed. He stood, dressed with calm precision, and opened the door.
Wish was still floating there, barely waist-high, wings fluttering like a dragonfly. The tiny butler’s suit looked perfectly pressed despite his size.
"Hello again," Wish said with a small bow.
"Hello," Dirga replied simply.
The hallway outside was warm, bathed in natural sunlight filtered through tall windows.
The interior of Sasa’s estate, like everything else he did, was ordinary at a glance—but refined in every corner. smooth marble floors dark wood beams.
No golden chandeliers or giant statues. Just precise taste, restraint, and ease.
Dirga followed silently, until they reached the dining area.
Sasa was already seated, leaning back in a curved wood chair with one leg folded over the other.
In front of him were several plates—bowls of glowing rice, soft dumplings emitting faint steam, and roasted meat shimmering with faint magical oil.
Another Wish—probably a copy or twin—floated nearby, refilling his drink.
"Dirgaaaa~" Sasa grinned through a mouthful of food. "I expected you to stay longer on Earth! At least a few days with Naya?"
Dirga pulled the chair across from him and sat down.
"No," he said. "I need to focus."
His eyes were clear. Piercing. Sasa raised a brow, then chuckled.
"Hah, alright, alright. You’re all business now. I respect that."
Wish slid a tray in front of Dirga—same dishes as Sasa’s. The moment Dirga took his first bite, Sasa slid something across the table.
Shiny. Dark. With glowing gold trim.
Ortheva City ID – Level 8
Dirga blinked, surprised. "Level 8?"
"Yup," Sasa said. "With this, you can access almost every sector in the city. Plus, it’s a wallet, communicator, and ID all in one. Think of it like a smartphone merged with a bank card. Welcome to post-modern hell."
Dirga turned the card in his hand. As soon as he touched the surface, a soft glow bloomed, revealing an interface. Screens. Notifications. News.
He skimmed through, barely paying attention—until one headline flashed:
HELL’S ROULETTE ANNOUNCED — FULL LIST OF PARTICIPANTS REVEALED
Tournament Begins in Two Weeks. The Multiverse Holds Its Breath.
Dirga’s fingers hovered over the screen.
The interface pulsed with life, scrolling feeds of flame-text headlines and glowing images. All of it pointed to one thing:
Everyone was talking about it.
The streets. The networks. Even the devils.
The madness had begun.
He wasn’t just some anonymous drifter anymore.
He was on the board now.
A piece in a game that could rewrite the fate of worlds.
Live betting lines ran across the screen—thousands of names, numbers, and shifting odds flickering like a stock market on fire. Viewers were already placing bets based on rumors, highlight reels, and ancient vendettas.
Dirga leaned back slightly. His thoughts drifted—not to the match, but to them.
Where are they now? What are they doing?
A breath passed through his lungs. He crushed the thought.
He couldn’t afford distraction. Not here. Not this close.
Sasa was sipping soup lazily across from him when he finally spoke.
"You can check the seeded list," Sasa said, tapping his own card interface. "They already ranked the top fighters. Seeds 1 through 9."
Dirga tapped into the screen, swiping through until the ranking chart opened.
A chilling structure unfolded before him:
Seed 1: 9 participants
Seed 2: 13 participants
Seed 3: 20 participants
Seed 4: 30 participants
Seed 5: 40 participants
Seed 6: 50 participants
Seed 7: 60 participants
Seed 8: 70 participants
Seed 9: 80 participants
A total of 372 seeded contenders.
The rest—over 600—were unranked. Wild cards. Cannon fodder. Or dark horses.
Dirga scrolled again.
Not among the seeded. As expected.
But he was listed. free we\bnove(l).com
Power Source: Unknown
Notable Matches: Partial footages available from Gemspire Ring
Ranking Status: Unseeded – Observation Category
The entry had a small devil-eye icon next to it, marking him as "Under Surveillance". It meant the tournament was watching. Tracking. Unsure what he was.
"Guess they couldn’t figure out what the hell you are," Sasa chuckled. "Good. Keep it that way."
Dirga said nothing, his eyes already scanning the Seed 1 list.
Then it opened like a veil torn apart.
Seed 1: The Nine Apex Contenders.
Sasa’s grin faded as he drummed his fingers against the lacquered table.
"Now, this is where things get serious, Patron," he said, voice cold and grounded.
"Study them. Remember them. Because one of these nine might be the last thing you ever see."
Dirga’s eyes narrowed.
And then he saw them.
Irmadax – The Eternal Ember
Power Source : Soulcraft
Ability : Eternal Combustion — A flame that never dies. His body is both fuel and fire, able to regenerate as long as it burns.
Affiliation : The Discipline – one of the Thirteen Menace Devils
A pale-skinned devil wrapped in ritualistic chains. His blank white eyes leaked smoke. His stitched mouth glowed from within. Even in a still image, you could feel the heat—alive and cursed. A walking inferno. A living punishment.
Ygra – The Bride of Ashes
Race: Angel ( Fallen Angel)
Power Source : Soulcraft and Luminarach
Ability : Black Grace — Divine movement laced with deadly ash. Her strikes burn with purity and sin alike.
Affiliation : The Heaven below
She stood in scorched wedding garments. Black feathers drooped from broken wings. A veil of ash floated around her like mourning incense. Her lips curled into a smile—beautiful, tragic, and completely mad.
Rokuro – The Iron Pulse
Power Source : Aetherbody and Manacode
Ability : The Mechanical Arm
Affiliation : The Gemspire Ring
Dirga blinked. The same fighter he saw on the arena posters—massive, brutal, and unshakably popular. There was no facade. Rokuro was the ring’s war machine.
Rakshi - The Thousand Mouths
Power Source : Aetherbody and Manacode
Ability : A Body of Writhing Mouths — Every mouth casts spells. Every word is a curse.
Rakshi still bore the elegance of a Niphari—tall, poised, with violet-blue skin and cold silver eyes—but his body whispered with quiet heresy. Dozens of small, seamless mouths had formed along his skin, casting spells in murmurs, making him a living grimoire of cursed sorcery.
Power Source : Soulcraft
Ability : Shadow — Undefined. The image glitches slightly, hard to focus on. Shadows ripple where she should be.
There were no features. Just an outline. A presence that shouldn’t exist—but did. It looked back at Dirga. Not directly, but from inside the shadows of his room.
Golvaroth - The Titan Of The Chained Womb
Power Source : Aetherbody
Ability : Body from Stars — His skin gleams with cosmic material. Gravity trembles when he walks.
Affiliation : The Gaia Circle
A towering figure. Shackles around his arms and ribs. Beneath his flesh shimmered galaxies. His roar was a meteor strike.
Sylquinna - The Wolf-Mother Of The Veil
Power Source : Spiritflare and Elementlink
Ability : The Mother Wolf — Can summon spectral wolves from mist and moonlight. Each one fights like a general.
Affiliation : The Ancient Beast
Long, white hair. Yellow predator eyes. Dozens of translucent wolves howled behind her, bound to her heartbeat. She radiated maternal power—wild, untamed, protective... and deadly.
Elzara Voidling – The Crown of Silence
Power Source : Elementlink
Ability : Void & Thought — Commands both emptiness and intellect. Silences magic. Drowns minds.
Affiliation : The Elf Link
Pale violet skin. A silver circlet that pulsed gently with nothingness. Around her, even the light bent strangely, like sound dared not disturb her thoughts. Silence wasn’t her weakness—it was her weapon.
Jarnakh Kriss – Butcher-Saint of the Black Choir
Race: Human ( born in Heel)
Power Source : Luminarach
Ability : Reverent Slaughter — Every death becomes a hymn. The more that watch, the holier—and more powerful—he becomes.
Bloodstained robes. Hands held in prayer. Behind him, a ghostly choir screamed with each breath. His eyes were turned to the heavens. Not with hope. But devotion—to slaughter.
Dirga stared at the list. Each name was more terrifying than the last.
Each one was a nightmare given form—and they were just nine among hundreds.
"I need to fight through all this?" he muttered.
Sasa nodded, slowly spooning food into his mouth.
"Eventually. If you survive long enough."
Dirga’s jaw tightened.
Let them be monsters.
Because he would become the void that swallowed them whole.