The Demon of Wall Street**
[Timeline: Three Weeks After the Tournament]
[Location: Abyss Layer 6 – The newly constructed "Entertainment District"]
Time soon passed, and three weeks has passed since Damien met with the prince
"Smile! You call that a smile? You look like you're going to eat the customer!"
Ziriork's voice boomed across the casino floor, rattling the crystal chandeliers.
The Ferro-Ogre, formerly a rust-covered pit fighter who lived in the slums, was currently wearing a custom-tailored, three-piece suit made of midnight-blue void-silk.
It barely contained his massive, metallic muscles, and the tiny bowtie at his neck looked somewhat ridiculous, but nobody dared point that out.
Standing in front of him was a hulking, four-armed Magma Demon wearing a crisp white vest.
The demon forced the corners of his rocky mouth upward, revealing rows of terrifying, jagged teeth.
"B-better, Boss Ziriork?" the demon stammered, smoke puffing from his ears.
