My Wives are Beautiful Demons

Vergil appeared in the center of a luxurious penthouse, his feet lightly touching the white marble floor, almost as if he were floating. The space around him overflowed with opulence: large glass windows offering a stunning view of the illuminated city, contemporary designer furniture, and a Persian rug extending across the floor, contrasting with the modern and minimalist environment. The soft golden lights from the lamps reflected the exclusivity of the place.

The atmosphere was calm, but there was something in the air's vibration that told him this wasn't just a simple luxury apartment. In the distance, a dining table was set with lit candles, and a subtle scent of food lingered, as if the host was expecting someone—or perhaps something.

Vergil surveyed the environment with an expression of indifference, as though he was not easily impressed. He walked to the center of the room, his gaze sharp and calculating.

'What a joke,' he thought, noticing something.

On the other side of the room, a man in an immaculate suit, appearing experienced, stood up from a leather armchair. He seemed calm, but his eyes showed slight apprehension upon realizing Vergil had just appeared.

"Welcome to my humble abode," the man said in a soft voice, yet carrying an innate authority. "I am Alessandro. I imagine you've come for... a contract."

Vergil watched him for a moment, his expression impassive. "I'm not a fan of long introductions. Just Vergil. You called me, I'm here. What's your wish?"

Alessandro smiled lightly, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He seemed like a man too mysterious to not know who he was dealing with. "Alright... A contract. But first... Don't you want a drink?"

Vergil raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a skeptical air. "Using an illusion against a guest is rather rude, don't you think?" Vergil's demeanor shifted entirely as he exploded the clone with a single slash.

Vergil's eyes glowed red as the entire location was sealed off, the very existence of the room feeling abnormal, but now... he saw everything.

"How long are you going to keep hiding?" Vergil asked, turning his head to the left. Then, a lateral slash cut through the entire room, slicing through half of the walls in a straight line.

"Fufufu..." A restrained laugh echoed in the room... very similar to the voice of Vergil's clone. "I really underestimated you, little Demon King. I didn't think you'd find me so quickly. What gave me away?" The voice questioned, though it had no face, Vergil could see it clearly.

But of course, it revealed itself... Stepping out of the darkness was the silhouette of a tall man, appearing somewhat old, with black hair and purple eyes, wearing a long black suit coat—actually, everything he wore was black...

"I don't know how your mind works, but if you know who I am, you also know exactly who's behind me. Even if you hide your presence, your energy will always give you away, no matter how much you try. A single trace, and I'd know." Vergil responded cautiously while analyzing the man... Despite the energy being negative... it wasn't demonic energy...

'Tsk, what horrible fashion sense...' Vergil thought, almost letting out a laugh at the "absolute black" the man displayed.

"Hey, don't look at me like that, as if I committed a crime," the man said, noticing Vergil's analytical gaze.

'Another extrovert...' Vergil thought, seeing Amon's reflection in the man, who took a few steps forward, but Vergil remained rooted to the spot.

"I'm quite impressed, I must say," the man said, placing his hands on his chin, studying Vergil. "In less than a year, you've gotten pretty strong... Tell me, how many contracts have you made?"

"Congratulations, you're the first," Vergil responded flatly.

The man suddenly stopped and raised an eyebrow, but upon realizing Vergil wasn't lying, his eyes subtly shifted, and he returned to speaking normally. "I see, a unique talent."

"Can you stop staring at me like I'm a zoo animal? Since you're here, just tell me what you want," Vergil said, genuinely uninterested in the current matter. He wanted to spend time with his wives, not work.

"Ah yes, that's true." Azazel said as he approached Vergil and extended his hand. "I am Azazel, the King of the Fallen Angels." His six black wings unfurled. But that only made Vergil even more bored.

"Ah, yes." Vergil said, extending his hand and shaking his. "I don't care." He continued, "Now, can you tell me your request so I can resolve it quickly and you can leave?"

Azazel watched Vergil with a disconcerting look, as if trying to gauge the depth of his indifference. Vergil's hand was cold and firm when shaking his, without a trace of hesitation. But unlike many who would feel intimidated, Azazel seemed to enjoy the lack of fear. In a way, it only piqued his interest more.

"You are truly unique," Azazel said, taking a step back as his black wings folded gently behind him. He turned to the table and grabbed a bottle of whisky, filling his glass and offering it to Vergil.

"It's not poisoned." Azazel said, handing him the glass.

Vergil looked at the glass and... "Ah..." He sighed. Then, he took the glass, sipping lightly, feeling the sweet taste go down his throat.

'Not bad, but I still prefer demon drinks…' Vergil thought.

"First, I'll apologize." Azazel said as he guided Vergil to a chair, sitting in the other. "I caused some trouble for you a few months ago." He commented, and Vergil vaguely recalled the Fallen Angel who killed him.

"Ah, don't worry, it was actually good that I died." Vergil commented. "It was a relief, actually. I got three wives and some other things." He admitted lightly with a smile, but then returned to his absolute indifference.

"Ah yes, that's true. Well, she actually rebelled against me. You know how it is, hierarchies and orders cause a lot of dissatisfaction, especially with protestors who still want war." Azazel shrugged. "For her, the fallen angels should be attacking the demons. War and such things."

"Considering how much you enjoy orgies, that's really something I expected from you." Vergil suddenly said.

"Huh?" Azazel raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, sorry, my wife follows you on Y, she mentioned something like that." Vergil said, keeping his gaze on the man. "Anyway… For a leader, you're really having trouble controlling your dogs."

"These things happen, so I apologize." Azazel said...

'For a King… this guy is very polite…' Vergil thought. It was an approach he didn't expect.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Ah, don't look at me like that. I've been negligent with some of their actions, for a long time actually. But now things are getting out of hand, I'm trying to fix things my way." Azazel admitted.

"You still haven't told me why I'm here." Vergil said next.

"Ah yes, that's true." Azazel said, looking at Vergil. "I need an Angel Hunter."

Vergil raised an eyebrow, his expression impassive, but inside, something had changed. He was used to strange things, but the last thing he expected was a direct request like that.

He crossed his arms and fell silent for a moment, studying Azazel. The King of the Fallen Angels seemed more… human than many of the demons Vergil knew. His frankness, though unusual, was surprising.

"An Angel Hunter, huh?" Vergil asked, his voice deep, but with a slight tone of disinterest.

Azazel gave a subtle smile, his purple eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "Yes, but it's not a typical hunt. I have some… deserters within my own domain. They have their own plans, their own agendas, and if they're not stopped, they could harm both the fallen angels and the demons. A real problem, isn't it?"

Vergil didn't respond immediately. The idea of hunting such beings, even if traitors, wasn't something he felt the need to do. However, the mention of an imbalance between the factions did catch his attention. He knew that when things got disorderly, it was always chaos that took over—and chaos, in the end, was never good for anyone.

"Why me? Isn't there anyone else who can handle this?" Vergil asked with a tone of skepticism. He wasn't looking to get involved in wars that weren't his, especially not with fallen angels.

Azazel looked at him with an understanding expression, as if he already knew this would be the question Vergil would ask. "I don't know? I sent this request to Amon, and if he sent it to you, it's because he wants you to do it." Azazel shrugged.

"Actually, I asked him to have Sapphire do it, to make it quick. But he must've thought it was better not to, since we know how Sapphire is," Azazel said, and a large vein was already popping up on Vergil's forehead...

'If he mentions Sapphire as a servant one more time... I'm going to attack this guy,' Vergil thought, starting to simmer...

"And what do I get out of this? Considering you probably won't give me your soul. I'm not that stupid..." Vergil spoke, his voice cold.

"Ah, yes, here..." Azazel said, pulling a blue orb from his pocket and tossing it to him. Vergil caught it and looked at the orb, confused about what it was.

"What the hell is this?" he questioned.

"Ah, it's the Platinum Dragon Empress."