Lucifer Morningstar, the legendary Lord of Hell, also known as Satan, was truly in a league of his own. He was the first being directly beneath God himself, an entity whose power transcended human comprehension. His current appearance, taken straight from the film Constantine, was that of a calm, middle-aged man, impeccably dressed in a pristine white suit, his bare feet stained with black tar—a perfect symbol of paradox.
Though in that "anti-smoking propaganda film" he only appeared in the final minutes, the shock he delivered far surpassed the condescending Archangel Gabriel. He entered the room with a time-stop effect, freezing the world in chilling silence, and casually tore off Gabriel's wings as if they were mere paper. The combat power he displayed could truly be called the ultimate limit of cosmic might. Even if he was a villain, that didn't diminish the fact that he was the best Lucifer in the hearts of countless film fans. By the way, Gabriel and The Ancient One shared the same face, an interesting coincidence woven into the vast tapestry of reality.
Kurohane stood frozen, his eyes wide. A whisper of rage flashed through his mind, a barely audible shriek of panic. "Damn it, son of a bitch!"
Kurohane knew. If he could somehow deal with an entity as monumental as Lucifer, the Justice Points he'd gain would skyrocket his value in one fell swoop, an unimaginable surge of power. But this was like trying to cook a whale in an instant noodle pot. Now, in his tiny pot, an even larger Leviathan had appeared, bigger than a house. The pot would be utterly destroyed before the meal was cooked. His strongest instincts screamed: Just surrender.
However, Kurohane was not one to easily give up. The thought raced through his mind, searching for an excuse, seeking justification. He had to find someone to blame. "This is all Deadpool's fault! If that bastard hadn't tricked me into another universe, making me run into this invincible Apocalypse, would I have been so overly cautious and instead summoned this colossal piece, Lucifer? It's all that fool, Deadpool's, mistake!"
Despite Kurohane's instinct to surrender, the will to survive had transcended everything, burning brightly within him. Even in a situation of certain death, he had to start fighting immediately! Seeing the X-Men utterly motionless, trapped in the time-stop, Kurohane knew he likely wouldn't get any external help. Everything still depended on him. Lucifer, oddly, was quite polite. So, he would try talking first.
"Greetings, esteemed Lord Satan," Kurohane began, his voice sounding calmer than he felt, a perfect mask of confidence. "Have you eaten yet? If not, how about we grab a bite first?"
Lucifer tilted his head slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips. An odd light danced in his eyes. "Hehehe, Kurohane, the Mage... joking, aren't we?"
Lucifer first glanced at Apocalypse, whose pupils had whitened, trapped in time like an ice sculpture. Casually, he patted the ancient being's back, a touch that sent invisible, chilling waves. Then, with an effortless gesture, he tossed Apocalypse, still impaled by steel bars, into the gaping Gates of Hell as if discarding trash. The gate slammed shut with a whoosh that sliced through the air.
Lucifer then casually strolled toward Kurohane. Each bare footstep left a tar-black imprint on the now-frozen ground. He didn't explicitly release any pressure, but the sense of oppression he exerted on Kurohane was immense, like an invisible mountain. If not for the Holy Scar on his arm burning intensely, radiating protective warmth, he feared even his mind would seize up, paralyzed under the demon's presence!
"Kurohane, the Mage, to thank you for opening these Gates of Hell," Lucifer said, his voice like a deadly melody, "I sincerely invite you to take a tour of Hell, so I may fulfill my host duties."
Cold sweat streamed down Kurohane's forehead, soaking his hair. He knew very well that one should never speak carelessly in front of a demon, especially a demon of Lucifer's caliber. Every casual word was a massive trap that could bind his soul forever.
"Are you sure you want me to go to your Hell for a visit?" Kurohane asked, raising the Holy Scar on the back of his hand. The scar, like a lightbulb, emitted a bright white glow, a sacred aura that dispelled the surrounding Hell mist. But Lucifer showed not the slightest discomfort, merely gazing at him with curiosity.
Kurohane then gestured toward the ruins, and a winged armchair flew out from a pile of debris, hovering gracefully in the air. Lucifer plopped into the chair, crossed his legs, and said cheerfully to Kurohane, "That Holy Scar on your hand, if it had a few more decades, it might barely be considered a single-Universe level master. But right now, it poses no threat to me. I won't be afraid of that little bit of Holy Energy. Many years ago, I was an Angel too." A mysterious smile spread across his lips.
"Alright, then let's not talk about anything else." Kurohane cut in, his heart pounding. This was his moment. "Let's make a deal!"
As soon as Kurohane spoke, Lucifer's previously relaxed expression tightened slightly. He knew something was amiss. This person understood demons too well! For demons, they could not refuse a human's request for a transaction! Though demons could corrupt contracts, refusing a human's transaction request... Sorry, even Lucifer, the Lord of Hell, couldn't do that! It was a fundamental rule etched into their very existence.
"Why don't you tell me the contents of the transaction first?" Lucifer asked, his voice flat, yet with an underlying note of caution.
"This Holy Scar, this Holy Scar is my bargaining chip." Kurohane pointed to his glowing hand. "You just need to agree to one thing for me."
Steam began to rise from Kurohane's head. His brain was practically boiling, working at hyper-speed. He had to think quickly, crafting his words with deadly precision.
"Alright, I won't take advantage of you." Lucifer smiled, a chilling grin. He tilted his head and thought for a moment, then pulled a stack of contract papers from the Void, numbering over sixty thousand pages, neatly bound. He placed it heavily before Kurohane, the stack of paper making a hissing sound as it touched the ground, and handed him a jet-black pen.
"In the endless spacetime, more than one person has tried to cheat in transactions." Lucifer explained, his voice calm, yet with an underlying threat. "But as the King of Hell, I cannot be taken lightly. Each time they tried, I recorded it, and added a corrective clause. After all these years, a demon contract that was originally just one page has become like this. I cannot see through your thoughts, but I can feel your malicious intent. I don't mind if you want to play tricks during the transaction, as long as you can bypass these restrictions!"
Kurohane felt his eyes widen inwardly. Was this a new version of a Hell joke? According to what Lucifer said, he added a restriction every time someone cheated him. Didn't this thick stack of contract contents prove that he was a true great philanthropist? He'd been cheated so many times, yet he still dared to choose to make deals with humans!
Lucifer crossed his legs, leaning casually in his chair, and sneered, "I know what you're thinking. Aren't you wondering how I still dare to make deals after being cheated so many times? This was indeed left behind by those who could cheat me, but how many souls haven't cheated me, do you know?"
Kurohane involuntarily swallowed, banishing his dismissive thoughts of Lucifer from his mind. After all, he was a demon who constantly made deals, collecting souls. It would be too unreasonable if he were cheated every time. There must have been many he successfully outwitted.
Kurohane held the black pen in his hand and began to read the contract word by word. His eyes moved rapidly over the ancient script, searching for loopholes, traps, or hidden details. He didn't want to make a ghost deal with Lucifer. From the start, this wasn't his plan. He intended to attract the attention of Vishanti from the Holy Dimension. This Lucifer was merely a projection, a shadow of a greater power. As long as the Holy Dimension casually released some energy, it could push him back into the Gates of Hell. Since he simultaneously summoned the Gates of Hell, he was already communicating with the Holy Dimension. If the Holy Dimension truly pretended not to notice, then he really would defect to the enemy!
The content of the transaction was to give the Holy Scar on his body to Lucifer, letting him mark himself with a Hell Dimension mark. It would just be a cosmetic change later; his white wings would be replaced by black wings, and he could still run wild—a cosmetic exchange, at least on the surface.