"Heh. As expected, I caught you," Blackheart sneered.
"You were never going to give me the throne."
Mephisto fell silent.
That silence was enough.
Blackheart instantly "understood" his father's plan.
He was going to settle everything after they returned.
Which meant-
He absolutely could not go back.
To be honest, Blackheart had wanted to return at first.
Earth had terrified him.
For a sheltered devil prince, this place was far too dangerous.
But now-
Since Mephisto had said the human wouldn't act first as long as no one died, then why not gamble?
Going back meant punishment worse than death.
At best, he'd remain a crown prince forever.
Better to fight.
Maybe he could carve out a future.
Blackheart's words made Mephisto secretly breathe a sigh of relief.
If Blackheart really wanted to return, Mephisto would've been in trouble.
He had paid too high a price to retrieve an unimportant son.
Letting him return?
Impossible.
Fortunately-
Blackheart was stupid enough.
Mephisto thought so, while wearing an expression that said you've seen through me.
"Come back with me," he said calmly.
"All of this will be yours eventually."
"Don't make me repeat myself."
This time, Mephisto didn't dare deny anything.
He could see that Morin's interference had made Blackheart unstable.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so eager to retreat.
"You're dreaming!" Blackheart snapped.
Now that he'd decided to stay on Earth and keep causing trouble, his hostility toward Mephisto only deepened.
"Here, your power is weaker than mine. You can't stop me!"
"Yes," Mephisto said evenly.
"My power is restricted on Earth."
"But my Rider isn't."
"Your Rider?" Blackheart sneered.
"Oh, that thing you wasted your power on?"
"You could've given it to me!"
"I'll kill him painfully. I promise."
"You'll learn a painful lesson," Mephisto roared.
His figure faded.
Then vanished.
"Hmph!" Blackheart snorted and turned away.
After two steps, he stopped and looked at the three demons still standing there.
"Aren't you coming?"
No matter what, he needed helpers.
Especially helpers he'd summoned using what little he had left.
The only problem-
The first one to experience their strength had been him.
He'd get revenge later.
He always did.
The Earth, Wind, and Water Demons exchanged looks.
They seemed to discuss something silently.
Then they followed.
After walking a while-
"...Does anyone know where we're going?" Blackheart suddenly asked.
They stopped.
Four faces.
Eight blank eyes.
"I should've gone back..." Blackheart muttered tiredly, completely ignoring that this was his own fault.
-
Two days later.
"Thank God," Mack said off-mic, relief all over his face.
"You finally listened to me and got rid of the cars."
He smiled.
"You're jumping three hundred feet over a football field. At least if you miss, you land on grass-"
The stadium roof began to open.
The noise cut him off.
Then the broadcast started.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Blaze Johnny will not be jumping over fifty cars!"
"Instead-he will jump over six UH-60 Black Hawk helicopters!"
The announcer's voice was electrifying.
As the roof fully opened, six Black Hawks hovered into view.
The audience exploded.
"...You moved the cars," Mack said slowly, turning to Johnny.
"You didn't say anything about helicopters."
"I listened," Johnny laughed.
The helicopters descended onto the field.
The wind whipped the crowd into frenzy.
"This is a challenge no one has ever attempted!" the announcer continued.
"Six helicopters! Three hundred feet!"
"Why?" Mack paced in frustration.
"Why didn't you tell me, JB?"
"I figured you'd yell."
"I can't accept gambling with lives like this," Mack pleaded.
"Stop it. Call it off."
Johnny stayed silent.
"Why helicopters?" Mack pressed.
"...A dream," Johnny murmured.
A voice echoed in his memory.
"Not cars. Not fire rings. Helicopters."
The memory faded.
Johnny realized he was over forty now.
Twenty years had passed.
Since the devil's deal.
Since his soul was taken for one night of his father's health.
Now-
He could finally complete that dream.
His father's last wish.
And today, everything aligned.
He'd just seen Roxanne again.
After all these years.
She'd married.
Had a child.
Divorced.
Now a journalist.
And today, they met again.
If he succeeded-
He'd chase her.
Apologize.
Ask her out again.
This time, it would work.
Johnny snapped back to reality.
A young man stood beside him.
Not in uniform.
Chinese.
About twenty.
Handsome.
A police ID was practically shoved in his face.
"...Sir?" Johnny blinked.
"How did you get here?"
"I'm a cop," Morin said flatly.
"How else?"
"I'm traffic control. This performance is dangerous."
"Have you applied for the proper permits?"
Johnny: "???"
That was a thing?
He looked at Mack.
"Oh, yes! Of course!" Mack said quickly, handing over documents.
"Officer, please-"
Morin flipped through them.
"These are valid."
"But helicopters aren't trucks."
"Where are the helicopter permits?"
Sweat poured down Mack's face.
"You don't have them," Morin said darkly, looking at Johnny.
Johnny shrugged helplessly.
He'd brought the helicopters without telling Mack.
Waiting for approval would've taken days.
He wouldn't even know how.
"Then I'll issue a citation and stop the show," Morin said calmly, pulling out a ticket.
Johnny put on his helmet.
Started the engine.
"Hit the nitrous halfway!" Mack shouted desperately, grabbing Morin.
"Too early and he won't make it!"
"Let go," Morin said, shaking him off.
Mack chased him.
"The papers were at home! We'll bring them later!"
"He can't do it... he can't..."
Morin glanced at him.
A master jinxer.
Johnny launched off the ramp.
Hundreds of miles per hour.
Helicopter blades spun below.
He closed his eyes.
He wouldn't die.
But this time-
He wasn't thinking of the devil.
Or his father.
He thought of Roxanne.
The girl who watched him from the crowd.
The night she waited in the rain while he walked away.
Twenty years later-
He opened his eyes.
Passion surged.
He adjusted midair.
And landed.
"He did it!" Mack screamed.
The crowd erupted.
Fireworks ignited.
Johnny raised his fists.
Then accelerated away.
He was going after Roxanne.
The announcer roared:
"Three hundred feet! Six helicopters! Blaze Johnny!"
"A new world record!"
"Unprecedented!"
"Unrepeatable!"
In the crowd, a balding old man with white hair smiled.
His chosen Rider.
The best in the world.
"Unprecedented and unrepeatable..." Mack echoed.
Then-
A motorcycle roared behind him.
He turned.
Morin hit the ramp.
"Wait-!"
Too late.
"Hit and run! Illegal performance!" Morin shouted, siren blaring.
"Double charges!"
He flew.
Cleared all six helicopters.
Landed.
And chased Johnny.
Sirens faded into the distance.
The stadium fell silent.
What just happened?
Was that-
A police motorcycle?
The announcer reacted instantly.
"...Congratulations! Another miracle!"
"The world record has been tied!"
The crowd exploded again.
One person didn't cheer.
Mephisto.
He felt cheated.
Even as a devil-
He felt haunted.
Why is it you again?
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