In the dilapidated town of Saint V'Angelo...Holding Rosie's small hand, Witch Heart Demon stood before a dilapidated church filled with the stench of decay, tears of happiness brimming in his eyes as he quietly awaited the arrival of Johnny Blaze and the imminent acquisition of the San Venganza Scroll.
The latter, in particular, was his primary focus.
After all, the San Venganza Scroll was like the foundation of a skyscraper to him. With it in his possession, he would gain the means to live freely on Earth, no longer needing to act under Mephisto's watchful eye.
Especially once he carved out his own domain on Earth, living like a petty tyrant with every need catered to—even Mephisto wouldn't be able to touch him then. Just imagining it once was enough to fill his heart with delight.
Thus, the San Venganza Scroll was crucial to his future path—no amount of importance placed on it would be excessive.
As for the idea that Earth was too small to contain his ambitions, forcing him to eventually return to Hell to inherit a grander legacy—
Don't be ridiculous. After finally escaping Hell, only a fool would want to go back and suffer.
In hell, Witch Heart Demon appeared to be the esteemed son of Mephisto, the future Great Demon King destined to inherit his father's reign over the underworld. But what was the reality?
Though Mephisto presented himself in the mortal realm as a frail, white-haired figure on the verge of death, Witch Heart Demon knew better—Mephisto was robust, arguably in his prime.
The idea of outliving Mephisto and waiting for him to kick the bucket was pure fantasy. Who knew which of them would perish first?
Ever since Witch Heart Demon could remember, Mephisto's appearance hadn't changed a bit. So, the notion of inheriting his father's throne had long been discarded.
Besides, what could compare to building one's own legacy rather than merely inheriting it? Of course, inheriting the family business while expanding it with one's own hands would be even sweeter.
Moreover, Witch Heart Demon had always doubted whether he was truly Mephisto's offspring. From childhood, he had never heard of his mother's name or seen her likeness—not even a single black and white photo could be found in Mephisto's lair.
Had Mephisto kept a mistress hidden away, Witch Heart Demon might have at least guessed what kind of Devil his mother was. But Mephisto showed little interest in female Devils, leaving Witch Heart Demon deeply curious about his own origins.
As a child, he once asked Mephisto with innocent curiosity, "Papa, which Devil is my mother?"
Whether Mephisto was busy sharpening his claws or simply didn't feel like answering, he just waved Witch Heart Demon away dismissively.
Later, likely annoyed by the repeated questions, Mephisto finally declared, "Kid, you were just something I casually molded into existence."
At first, Witch Heart Demon was awestruck—creating life was supposed to be God's domain, yet his father claimed such power. How incredible was that?
But as he grew older, his belief in this origin story wavered, eventually turning into outright skepticism: "Mephisto, you truly are a Devil—even lying to your own son!"
If Mephisto could create life at will, what was God's role? A moral instructor for humanity?
Besides, most humans ended up in hell after death, staying for centuries without reprieve.
And humans reproduced quickly, with lifespans barely reaching a century. If hell kept welcoming new souls while Mephisto whimsically spawned more Devils, wouldn't the underworld be overcrowded in no time?
Real estate prices would skyrocket, inflation would soar—who could bear that responsibility? So, Mephisto's claim that he could create Devils was undoubtedly a lie.
That raises the question: If Mephisto couldn't create Devils, then how did he come to be?
Eventually, Witch Heart Demon figured it out. His birth was most likely the result of Mephisto's magical experiments—a test subject who could be dragged back onto Mephisto's operating table at any moment.
With no hope of outlasting Mephisto in terms of lifespan and his own life constantly at risk, Witch Heart Demon grew even more determined to leave Hell and strike out on his own.
Now, having finally escaped Hell and on the verge of obtaining the San Venganza Scroll, facing a brand-new chapter in his life, it was no wonder Witch Heart Demon was practically moved to tears.
Before long, as he was lost in visions of the future, Witch Heart Demon sensed someone approaching. But instead of Johnny Blaze, as he had expected, it was a man in a suit and tie with a receding hairline—Coulson?
As for Coulson, Witch Heart Demon actually recognized him. Not only had they crossed paths at Johnny Blaze's place, but Abigail had also told him about S.H.I.E.L.D. And since Coulson was Abigail's superior, she had described him in excruciating detail.
Witch Heart Demon narrowed his eyes and peered into the distance, hoping to spot Johnny Blaze or his two remaining subordinates. Unfortunately, aside from a few ordinary humans hiding in the pitch-black ruins, all he saw was a small, stunted creature radiating magical energy.
As for his two underlings? Sorry, no sign of them.
Coulson could guess what Witch Heart Demon was thinking and lied with a smile, "Johnny Blaze is tied up with Water Demon, and Wind Demon is lending a hand."
As for Li Feng, Coulson wasn't stupid. Witch Heart Demon had never met Li Feng and likely had no idea he was nearby.
Having a mage hidden in the shadows was a powerful trump card, whether for rescuing hostages or eliminating Devils.
Witch Heart Demon bared his fangs in a sneer, cursing inwardly: Useless idiots. They can't even take down a rookie Ghost Rider quickly.
But then, turning his attention back to the agent, he mused, Mr. Agent, your words seem to suggest you know something.
After a moment's thought, Witch Heart Demon decided to let Coulson get a good look at his mouthful of sharp teeth, making it clear he was the legendary Devil. Grinning, he said, "Water Demon and Wind Demon, huh? Seems you know my two subordinates are Devils."
Pausing, he yanked Rosie forward and gripped her throat, eyeing Coulson with curiosity. "Since you know I'm a Devil, what makes you bold enough to walk up to me? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you? Or do you really think a mere mortal like you can rescue this woman from my grasp?"
Coulson shrugged, acknowledging his intent to save her. There was no point denying it. Upon seeing Rosie being choked to the point of gasping for breath, Coulson pointed at her and said, "Mr. Witch Heart Demon, could you ease up a bit? You're practically strangling Rosie. If anything happens to her, Johnny Blaze won't hand over the San Venganza Scroll to you."
Witch Heart Demon leaned in to glance at Rosie, whose eyes were rolling back from lack of oxygen. "Humans are so fragile," he muttered.
Despite his words, Witch Heart Demon didn't dare kill Rosie outright before obtaining the San Venganza Scroll. Who knew if the Ghost Rider would fly into a rage and fight him to the death?
During this startup phase, peace and quiet were preferable. Having a Ghost Rider constantly opposing him would be nothing but a nuisance.
So, upon hearing Coulson's words, Witch Heart Demon instinctively loosened his grip.
Noticing that the demon still had his hand around Rosie's throat, Coulson maintained a neutral expression, though inwardly he was disappointed—this wasn't part of the hostage rescue plan.
Witch Heart Demon was, after all, a prince among Devils. Who knew how much strength he possessed? For a human's fragile neck, even the slightest pressure could prove fatal.
Coulson and his team aimed to save Rosie, not send her to an early grave. Until Witch Heart Demon removed his hand from her neck, Coulson couldn't risk having Kreacher forcibly pull Rosie away.
As he cautiously approached Witch Heart Demon, Coulson silently prayed that the protective charm Li Feng had given him could indeed ward off a Devil's attack. "Mr. Witch Heart Demon," he began carefully, "may I ask what your plans are on Earth? Or when you intend to return to Hell?"
"Return to Hell?" Witch Heart Demon feigned surprise, then burst into laughter. "Why would I go back? Isn't it better to have humans pamper me with good food and drink? Or have you heard legends claiming Devils long to return to Hell? Name a few—I'd love to hear them."
Coulson tilted his head as if pondering, then ventured, "The Sanctum Sorcerers told me they wouldn't allow you to stay on Earth indefinitely."
At this, Witch Heart Demon's face stiffened. Though he had never met the Ancient One, her name and Kamar-Taj were thunderously renowned in Hell.
Countless heroic or ambitious Devils had clawed their way to Earth, only to flee back in terror at the mere whisper of "the Ancient One is coming." To say her name alone could silence a Devil's wails at night was no exaggeration.
Now, hearing Coulson mention Kamar-Taj, Witch Heart Demon gnashed his jagged teeth, suppressing his rising dread. "What's your connection to the Ancient One?" he demanded. Then, narrowing his eyes, he added, "Wait—you're just a mortal. How could you possibly have ties to sorcerers?" Ancient One? The leader of the Sanctum Sorcerers? This counts as an unexpected windfall.
Coulson shrugged with an air of nonchalance, his demeanor practically screaming 'Ancient One is my powerful backer,' as he said lightly, "The Sanctum Sorcerers are an organization that protects Earth. So is S.H.I.E.L.D. So when Earth faces minor troubles, Ancient One usually leaves them to us to handle. Like right now."
Witch Heart Demon detected the implication in Coulson's words—that he was merely a minor nuisance—which infuriated him. His pride felt deeply wounded.
Before Witch Heart Demon could retort, Coulson noticed his agitated expression and deliberately provoked him further, "That's right. Someone like you is just a minor nuisance in Ancient One's eyes. After all, we have Johnny Blaze."
Before Coulson even finished speaking, Witch Heart Demon was already seething with rage. If Rosie weren't still useful, he would have strangled her first and then gone for Coulson's neck.
But now, seeing Coulson just a few steps away, Witch Heart Demon didn't hesitate. He shoved Rosie aside and strode toward Coulson, determined to make him pay for his words.
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