I play a Evil God in Otome Game

"Protect the entrance!"

Dozens of soldiers guarded the entrance as everyone else took their positions behind the barricades. Breath was held. The deep silence of death and the oppressive atmosphere were terrifying.

Tension inevitably gripped their bodies. The door suddenly exploded open, and the tank driven by Beliar entered the city hall, causing chaos and terror. The tank crushed soldiers and demolished walls.

Prisoners followed behind the tank, executing everyone left alive. They infiltrated the city hall flawlessly, ruthlessly clearing the first floor of all soldiers.

Beliar emerged from the tank, hoisting his AK-47 onto his shoulder as he advanced with a broad grin, shooting anyone in his path. Over twenty magazines hung from his body, and while his ammunition was depleting, it was still more than enough.

"Keep the Mayor alive!" Beliar barked his order sharply. The prisoners obeyed without question, but some grenades thrown by the soldiers caused their first casualties.

Unlike the open-field skirmish outside, the narrow corridors and rooms inside gave the soldiers an advantage. Yet Beliar couldn’t care less. Once the Mayor was captured, the final phase of chaos would be complete.

With all the soldiers on the first floor eliminated, Beliar began ascending to the upper levels. The losses increased with each floor. To prevent reinforcements, the entrance had been blocked with the tank. For now, there was no risk of an attack from the rear.

"Please—please! I have orphaned children!" A woman begged desperately. Beliar sneered. He grabbed her by the hair. "Don’t talk too much, woman. Where’s the Mayor?"

The woman cried in terror, too afraid to answer. Beliar frowned and slapped her across the face. "Speak! Where is the Mayor?!"

"Why am I even bothering with this?" Beliar cursed his own stupidity and then invaded her mind to extract the necessary information. Grinning, he overloaded her mind afterward.

"Thank you for your service, human," Beliar said with a smile. "Your contribution won’t be forgotten."

Releasing the woman, Beliar began walking toward the Mayor’s office. The woman, relieved to be alive, celebrated too soon. There was no way Beliar would let her live.

She tried to flee, but as soon as she stood up, her brain exploded, and her body collapsed to the ground. Her eyes popped out of their sockets, her skull cracked through her scalp, and parts of her hair fell to the floor.

Her head split open as the pressure became too much for her scalp to bear. Fluid and bone spilled out, leaving her in a grotesque state.

Beliar, ascending countless floors, showed no mercy. He easily overpowered soldiers, breaking their limbs, gouging out their eyes, and tearing them apart with a cruelty that drove some to suicide.

"This must be the Mayor’s office," Beliar grinned. The moment he opened the door, a hail of bullets rained down on him. He merely smiled. While the bullets moved too fast for a human to see, they appeared as slow motion to him.

With a gentle wave of his hand, a wave of fire incinerated all the bullets and continued forward, reducing the soldiers’ bodies to ash. When Beliar sensed the Mayor hiding under the desk, his grin widened. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Slowly, step by step, he approached, instilling terror. Feeling the Mayor’s panicked breathing and rapid heartbeat, Beliar tapped the desk lightly, reveling in sadistic pleasure.

"I know you’re under there," Beliar whispered. "Come out. I promise, your torture will be mild."

Beliar’s voice carried a near-seductive tone, but when the Mayor didn’t respond, Beliar sighed theatrically and struck the desk lightly. The desk split in two, exposing the cowering Mayor beneath.

"So, our little rat is here?" Beliar smirked sadistically, watching the Mayor recoil in fear. "Come on, smile a little. After all, I’ll be ripping every ounce of your emotions out while I torture you. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fun."

"What do you want, you monster!" The Mayor mustered a shred of courage. Beliar grabbed him by the collar, lifting him to meet his gaze. "Take out your phone and start a livestream."

"What?" The Mayor was horrified by the demand. Beliar, his expression growing bored, gripped the Mayor’s jaw tightly. "Did you not hear me? Take out your phone and start a livestream!"

Terrified, the Mayor nodded and shakily retrieved his phone. Beliar released him, watching.

With trembling hands, the Mayor accessed his social media and started a livestream. Once it was live, Beliar snatched the phone.

"Hello, friends! Today, you’ll witness the first live prank! If you enjoy it, don’t forget to like and leave your thoughts in the comments!"

Drawing from memories, Beliar cheerfully addressed the livestream. The audience quickly grew to a million, with the number of viewers and comments skyrocketing.

To his surprise, some even praised what he was doing. He grinned, appreciating the intriguing variety of people. "Now, let’s hear from today’s first and only guest, Steve, the Mayor of Los Angeles! Steve, care to share your thoughts?"

The Mayor, trembling with fear, faced the camera. Beliar gestured with his hand and aimed his AK-47 at the Mayor’s face. Steve, frozen in terror, stammered a greeting to the audience. "H-h-hello."

"Tch, tch! Mayor! Don’t disappoint our million viewers!" Beliar said, aiming the camera at Steve’s face while pressing the rifle barrel against his stomach.

With a weary expression, Steve began to speak. "I-I... today, I am being hosted by—"

"Beliar. My name is Beliar. But you’ll address me as Lord Beliar," he said calmly. The Mayor quickly nodded. "T-today, Lord Beliar will be playing a prank on me."

"That’s enough, Steve," Beliar said with a sadistic grin, turning the camera back to himself. "I must thank Steve here for hosting me today, folks."

Grabbing Steve’s arm, Beliar yanked him forward roughly. "As a token of gratitude, I have a special gift for you."

Raising his hand, flames began to form in Beliar’s palm. The three million viewers, witnessing the supernatural display, flooded the comments with awe and fear.

Gigafemboy: "What is this?! Magic?!"

Realtyxx12: "F*ck! I told you magic was real!"

Orphanage_arsonist: "This is cool."

Karennjimy: "Someone is in danger here! Why are you all making stupid comments?!"

HamburgerMan: "ehdjekckemckefn"

Kim-jinfan: "This is terrifying!"

Beliar smiled as he read the comments, surprised by the names he saw. He was enjoying this live broadcast. "Now, watch closely, my friends. This show is my gift to you!"

Then, mercilessly, he pressed his hand against the President’s face. The President screamed, while Beliar laughed cruelly, watching the flames burn the man’s face with amusement.

The number of viewers briefly dropped but quickly skyrocketed again. It wouldn’t be wrong to claim it was now the number one stream.

"Look how happy he is!" Beliar laughed and addressed his live audience. "Do you see? He’s even screaming with joy!"

Alexandersimons: Where are the authorities, This terrorist is roaming free!

Yogurt.hater: 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

NeoRomanGladdiator: 🔥🔥🔥🔥

"I’m glad you’re enjoying it," Beliar smiled, withdrawing his hand from the President’s burning face. The President collapsed to the floor with a hiss of pain.

"We’re not done yet." Beliar grinned, grabbing the President’s hands and pulling him up. "Your nails need some care, my friend. By the end of this, you’ll thank me."

With a gentle smile, Beliar gripped one of the President’s nails and easily ripped it off. As the nail tore through the skin, the President let out a scream of agony, and Beliar pressed on the raw wound. "Shh, stay quiet."

One by one, Beliar pulled out the nails. It was ruthless. With every nail removed, blood oozed from the wound. The President cried, screaming in pain.

In front of the camera, even his pride was gone. As Beliar continued his torture, the livestream suddenly froze, leaving him confused.

"Why is this thing frozen?" Beliar asked the President, but when he didn’t get an answer, he kicked him. The President groaned in pain, clutching his stomach.

Restarting the livestream, Beliar smiled when viewers returned. "Sorry about that, folks. It seems someone tried to interfere with our fun, but don’t worry, it won’t happen again."

Then, Beliar issued a threat. "If anyone tries to shut down my stream again, I’ll kill the President. If you don’t want that to happen, stay out of my way."

As Beliar resumed his torture, elsewhere, Patrick arrived at Lucifer’s house with a frown. He looked as though he’d aged ten years, drenched in sweat and stress.

When the door opened and Patrick saw Lucifer, he sighed and managed a half-smile. "Hello, may I come in?"

"Come in," Lucifer replied, looking at Patrick with amusement and inviting him inside. Patrick rushed in, while Lucifer smiled. Things seemed to be falling into place sooner than expected.

He had been watching Beliar’s livestream on social media. Though news channels couldn’t air it due to censorship, the entire internet was abuzz with the incident.

This time, the magnitude of the event was unprecedented. It could rightly be called the greatest disaster in U.S. history. For the first time, a neighborhood had been invaded, Los Angeles’ city hall had been taken hostage, and numerous soldiers had been killed.

Even Lucifer was both shocked and hesitant about the massacre. This man called Beliar had created chaos far greater than expected.

Even if Patrick hadn’t come, Lucifer wouldn’t have been able to stay idle. After all, he desired chaos, but not on this scale—it was beyond his intent.

"Patrick, you came for help, didn’t you?" Lucifer said as Patrick looked at him. "Don’t worry, I’ll be there."

"The sooner, the better," Patrick said, exhausted. The government was under immense pressure. International media and every news channel were discussing the incident. Experience tales at empire

If no intervention occurred within a day, the U.S.’s international reputation would suffer. The country was already in a state of panic due to recent events.

For the first time, people were witnessing such an invasion on their continent. It was unprecedented. A mass migration out of fear was even possible. Billionaires in Silicon Valley were already considering moving their companies.

The economic losses, the hit to prestige, and the potential impact on Texas were all looming concerns. California’s proximity to Texas meant any major economic losses there could ripple into Texas and eventually the heart of the U.S., the West.

Patrick and Prime Minister Dominik wanted the situation resolved immediately to prevent mass panic and regain control.

"I’m begging you," Patrick said seriously, "end this as soon as possible. We’ll even grant you immunity. Just kill those damned bastards."

Lucifer, watching Patrick, nodded. "Understood. This problem will be short-lived, don’t worry. But I’ll need something else from you."

"What is it?" Patrick, surprised by Lucifer’s rejection of immunity in favor of something else, asked. "If not immunity, what could you possibly want?"

Lucifer smiled and continued, "I want a meeting with all the governments of the world. In other words, I want to speak and hold a meeting at the United Nations."

"I won’t ask why you need that," Patrick sighed, already feeling a headache at the thought of Lucifer speaking at the U.N.

Still, it was a trivial request. Allowing Lucifer to speak at the U.N. might upset some of the world’s religious extremists, but who cared? After all, they had the power, and no one could stop Lucifer.

"Fine, I agree," Patrick said quickly. Lucifer smiled and patted Patrick’s shoulder. "Good, I’m glad we could come to an agreement."

As Patrick prepared to leave, Lucifer’s body was briefly enveloped in darkness before transforming into a swarm of crows and disappearing swiftly.

"I’ll never get used to this," Patrick muttered as he watched Lucifer’s mystical departure. He didn’t even feel shocked anymore—only admiration—as he wearily left.