DC Chapter 178/181

Chapter 178

The night was dark, the moonlight sparse and obscured by clouds, casting a barren, frigid glow.

In the distance, the ground was desolate from battle, riddled with massive craters and scattered rocks.

The line of sight followed the trajectory of a sonic boom streaking across the ground. Cornfields were torn apart, bent outward on both sides like a warpath, stretching all the way to the Kent family farmhouse.

In front of the house.

Bardi's tall figure stood like an entrenched mountain. A dark mist rose around him, faintly illuminated by the moonlight, exuding a chilling aura of fear, cold and ruthless like a demon.

His eyes, already devoid of emotion, stared at Jor-El.

He had given Jor-El a chance.

A choice between sacrificing Martha, who loved her son dearly...

Or letting his own son, who had almost no chance of escape—still fail to survive, while Martha died regardless.

Jor-El hung his head in grief, eyes closed. His vision stung with pain, and tears mixed with blood oozed from the corners of his eyes. His dog-like face was contorted with sorrow and agony.

It was a firm decision—a painful one, made without hesitation.

Jonathan knelt before him.

Begging him to stop the opening of the extra-dimensional wormhole.

He and his wife had done nothing wrong.

They didn't deserve this.

They had adopted Clark and raised him as their own son.

They even accepted Krypto, making them a true family.

So why… why was his wife being dragged into such danger? Why was she being left to die?

It wasn't right!!

He and Martha were good people.

So why had it come to this?

Om...

Space distorted. The darkness twisted into a vortex, emitting a resonant hum.

White light enveloped Martha and Clark. It was composed of tachyon particles spinning violently, radiating blinding brilliance, like a divine child descending into the world, dazzling and radiant.

Around them, a warped gravitational field and a repulsive barrier formed.

Bardi stood silently in the darkness. His massive body, cloaked in black mist, was like a mountain looming over the scene, watching everything unfold.

He looked at Jor-El's silent grief—blood and tears in his eyes—but not a word spoken, no attempt made to stop the wormhole's activation.

Jonathan cried bitterly, kneeling in desperation and pleading with him to stop, to spare his wife.

That powerless plea finally drove Jonathan to madness. Bulging veins appeared on his face, his bloodshot eyes filling with rage. He pounded the ground with clenched fists, dirt flying with each strike, his screams erupting in anguish.

Why!

Why was his wife being sacrificed?

He lowered his head, his fists slamming into the earth until they bled, tears streaming down without pause.

"Why are you doing this to us!!"

Jonathan roared, his eyes bloodshot, veins crawling up his face—grief and fury overtaking him.

He stared at Jor-El with disbelief and rage, screaming hoarsely, his mind unraveling. He couldn't believe that Krypto—or rather, Clark's biological father could treat him and Martha this way.

They had raised Clark.

Accepted Krypto.

Loved them as their own family.

But in return, Clark's biological father showed nothing but cruelty. He refused to shut down the wormhole, allowing Martha to be torn apart and killed.

"It's all because of him."

Jor-El's head lowered. His eyes opened slowly, blood-red and full of resentment, glaring at Bardi with hatred.

It was all caused by Bardi.

From Krypton until now.

He knew it.

Bardi stared at him coldly. Black mist swirled around his massive, suffocating frame. From high above, he looked down—emotionless.

He said nothing. His face was icy, for he had spoken enough. He had already vented all his emotions.

He never believed himself to be kind, nor did he wear the cape of righteous justice in his heart.

He had always been clear about what he was. He was... evil. A demon.

A sudden feeling of revulsion and disgust rose in Bardi's heart—toward someone like Jor-El.

It was nauseating. Absolutely repulsive.

He didn't want to communicate with him any longer.

At this moment, none of the enemies he had calculated appeared.

That meant—it was over.

Hsssss...

The spatial distortion emitted a piercing sound, a screech that tore through everyone's hearts. It was more unbearable than fingernails on glass—enough to make one cough up blood.

The white light surrounding Clark—the rotating tachyons—had reached their limit.

And in that instant.

Chaos erupted.

Everyone present seemed to panic at once. The twisted gravity flipped erratically.

Space trembled and wailed in unrest.

The tachyon particles around Clark vanished in an instant, twisted and compressed into a singular point.

A pitch-black vortex suddenly emerged behind Clark, expanding to half a meter in diameter. Inside, it was utterly dark, void of even a sliver of light. It appeared for only a moment.

BOOM!

The vortex exploded outward, shattering the surrounding gravitational field and unleashing a blinding white shockwave that rippled in all directions.

The vortex vanished again in an instant.

But in that instant, it had already swallowed Martha whole.

Infant Clark fell to the ground, still asleep.

Next to him.

Lay Martha's severed limbs. Her dazed, lifeless head had landed beside the baby.

It had failed!

Jonathan was blown backward by the shockwave, flipping several times before hitting the ground. He scrambled up in a mess, and when he saw Martha's head.

A deafening hum rang in his mind, blanking out everything.

He crawled through the mud, wide-eyed and frantic, until he knelt before Martha's head, clutching it as he howled in pain.

Jor-El's eyes were filled with disbelief.

It failed!

Which meant—his son...

"Awwooo…"

His dog-like face twisted, veins bulging grotesquely. Blood-red fury filled his eyes, and a guttural roar of hatred erupted from deep within his throat.

He struggled up from the ground, preparing to launch a final attack on Bardi.

But—

Bardi's tall, mist-shrouded figure appeared behind him like a towering mountain.

Within Bardi's dark eyes, a sharp focus appeared—one that carried the rage boiling inside him.

His large hand, engulfed in mist, surged with immense dark magic, slamming down on Jor-El's body, ruthlessly pinning him to the ground. Jor-El could only struggle madly in vain.

The overwhelming magic force eroded his cells, weakening his body.

Bardi raised his right hand high. The dark magical mist around it condensed into a tangible mass, covering his clenched fist.

His dark eyes flashed with fury—and he smashed his fist into Jor-El's contorted, beast-like face!

Boom!

"I told you—you can't save Krypton!"

Boom!

"I told you—your son won't escape. Martha will die!"

BOOM...

With the third punch, Bardi's blow smashed directly through Jor-El's dog-like skull. Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. Jor-El's broken body twitched beneath Bardi's feet.

Jor-El—dead.

Bardi's face remained cold, his dark eyes merciless.

His massive frame stepped forward, advancing toward Jonathan. His looming shadow engulfed Jonathan, who was weeping and screaming in agony.

Bardi paused. He reached a hand to the side, grabbed the swaddled baby, and lifted it in his grip.

His expression was blank, his sharp, chiseled face cold as stone. As he turned, even that motion from his massive body stirred a gust of wind, blowing across Jonathan's grief-stricken face.

At that moment.

The overcast clouds suddenly parted, revealing bright moonlight overhead.

Bardi walked away toward the moonlight, his form casting a long shadow.

And as always he offered hope.

"You want to bring her back to life? Then follow in my footsteps!"

(To be continued.)

Chapter 179

Fufufufufu...

A C-130 Hercules transport aircraft, its propellers spinning, came to a stop on the outskirts of Smallville. Sixty people disembarked to begin final battlefield cleanup.

Bardi gathered himself, donned the white trench coat handed to him by his subordinates, and boarded the aircraft with Raven. As for Jonathan, he and the remaining operatives would return to Universe Biotechnology Co., Ltd., following Bardi's instructions.

He had given Jonathan hope. In the future, Jonathan would have to offer greater loyalty to see the hope Bardi promised become reality.

Anyone can be used, especially desperate people. Bardi particularly favored that kind.

Drag them into the abyss of despair—and you become God.

The transport plane, capable of holding ninety-two crew members, carried only Bardi and Raven. They sat across from each other in silence.

Inside the cabin, the military interior was olive-green, the air slightly stale, ventilation poor. The hot air was stifling, making their skin feel greasy and tight, especially for Bardi, whose body carried a persistent stinging sensation, making it even more uncomfortable.

As always, his expression remained cold. His eyes held many thoughts—unknown and unreadable.

He sat down and placed the swaddled baby on his lap, feeling the ache throughout his body.

His hands gently rested on the swaddle. Clark... would never leave his side.

Raven's cloak and hood had been pulled back, revealing her pale face. Her long lashes trembled, and her black-and-white eyes settled on the infant resting on Bardi's legs. Her expression was hesitant.

This baby… would it end up like that memory again…?

Raven had always believed that Bardi was kind, no one more so than him. She had seen into and understood his heart.

It's just that... he didn't want to be hurt—so he became a demon to make others fear him.

Only good people desire to become demons.

...Raven... he was complicated, with depths of pain, regret, sorrow, and love that couldn't be spoken.

She lowered her eyes to the cabin floor, studded with holes for securing military cargo, fasteners, nylon ropes, and hooks along the bulkhead grooves. They were meant to quickly stabilize equipment in transport.

She didn't know… and right now, she didn't want to know.

Her heart was a mess.

She hoped Bardi wouldn't harm anyone, that he wouldn't burden himself with more pain. She hoped, more than anything, that Bardi would smile.

To her, Bardi was sunlight, hope, light, and warmth.

Raven's pale face twisted with sorrow, her eyes trembled, and her dark purple lips pressed into a tight line.

Just as she was about to speak—perhaps to persuade Bardi not to harm the baby.

Bardi spoke first.

"Raven, cast a spell on this child and on me that prevents future sight."

Bardi suddenly said to her.

He had always trusted his own judgment. There were people out there saving the Justice League—one not yet fully formed—and someone who knew the future.

He felt that he must've gone in the wrong direction.

Bardi had thought it would be the Flash traveling back in time, arriving at this moment.

But when the moment came, no one appeared. No one saved Superman, no one saved Clark. It was too unusual.

"Okay."

Raven froze for a moment, then softly agreed.

Bardi had told her before: someone who knew the future might eventually oppose him. Raven knew.

That's why she had been placed beside Clark—to lie in wait.

And yet, no enemy had shown up.

The magic to block future sight was simpler than the magic to predict the future itself. Raven bowed her head, chanted a spell, and cast it on both Bardi and Clark. Afterward, she couldn't help but ask Bardi,

"Bardi... this child… will you kill him?"

Raven's face was filled with sorrow. She looked at Bardi, even a flicker of pleading in her eyes. Bardi wasn't cruel enough to harm a child... right?

A flicker of surprise passed through Bardi's eyes—then understanding dawned.

He realized...

Raven might part ways with him over this.

This child was destined to die.

And Raven—too kind—would never accept doing such a thing.

Kind people always believed their kindness was right.

They often acted on emotion more than reason.

It was entirely possible she would even try to save Clark.

In that moment, Bardi realized.

Raven's kindness was something he had to be truly wary of.

Immediately, Bardi's eyes softened. He smiled helplessly. For a moment, the stifling air of the cabin seemed less heavy. The space warmed, like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

"How could I? Who do you think I am?"

Bardi shook his head, amused. Who do you think I am? Probably… a devil.

Raven let out a sigh of relief. She pulled her cloak around her, rose, and walked to Bardi's side. Resting her head on his arm, a gentle smile graced her lips, her eyes filled with quiet contentment.

She thought.

Bardi had changed.

….

It was a dark space—justly so. There was no light, no heaven or earth.

Suddenly, a black shadow emerged. In the darkness, the outline of the figure could just barely be seen.

Another shadow appeared shortly after, rushing forward.

"The son of light you speak of—the hope of Earth—has been captured and now lies in his hands." The first shadow spoke with a magnetic voice, its tone unrecognizable.

"I'm still saving him." The second shadow—who'd appeared in a hurry—replied calmly, his voice lazy, detached, graceful, and indifferent. He casually brushed the back of his head, but the shadow was bald, with no hair. Realizing this, he paused and lowered his hands. His voice, too, was magnetic—unrecognizable.

"I know. I'm just curious—how will you save him? You've already pulled Barry Allen, Hal Jordan, Victor Stone, and me from Bardi's sights. And now, it seems, there's no longer a chance to save the so-called 'Hope of Earth.'"

"There still is. Clark's body contains a nano extra-dimensional wormhole device implanted by his father. That device can host Jor-El's consciousness and naturally, it can hold Clark's. His body will die but he'll be reborn... Hmm… I can no longer sense Clark's fate. Did you sense something, since no one appeared to save him?"

"I don't think highly of your plan. You rely too much on so-called future predictions. You've said before—you can't predict anything involving Barmulodi. And anyone he interacts with is affected, disrupting your foresight."

"I can't predict him directly. But through others—vaguely—I can piece together his actions! We can still make limited predictions. Raven will kill Clark because of Barmulodi, and that will cause a rift between the two of them. As long as I have a moment to retrieve Clark's body, it'll be enough. I might even be able to bring Raven to our side."

"So I'm not needed at all?"

"No. That's the extent of what I can do. That's why the future now depends on your wisdom. I will awaken your future memories. Child, you still need to train, to become the future Dark Knight who will oppose this cruel king."

"You want me to go through the League of Assassins again?"

"No. That place is already slipping from my foresight. It will become Barmulodi's underground intelligence network. Go to Africa. There, you'll merge with your future memories and become a true Dark Knight."

"Africa?"

"There's someone there, someone also changed by Barmulodi's influence. Before, I could see his future clearly. His life was devoted to killing Barmulodi, consumed by hatred and understanding of him. On that battlefield, you will train, grow, and become the Dark Knight. I can no longer see his end, but he is the best candidate to confront Barmulodi."

The voices gradually faded, and the two silhouettes dissolved. In that dark space, they blended and vanished.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 180

From Kansas to Metropolis, the straight-line distance is approximately 1,800 kilometers.

The C-130 Hercules transport aircraft has a maximum flight speed of 620 kilometers per hour, so in just three and a half hours, Bardi and Raven had already returned to Metropolis.

It was only 11 o'clock at night, and the city was alive with dazzling lights and vibrant nightlife. The headlights of the cars formed a long river of stars, and the glittering beauty of the city shimmered brightly.

The transport plane stirred up powerful air currents. Its piercing aircraft lights cut through the darkness as it descended onto a remote suburban road. The roar of the engine shook the air and rustled the surroundings as the aircraft came to a stop.

Once Bardi and Raven disembarked, the plane took off again and disappeared into the night sky.

A black SUV had been waiting at the roadside to pick them up. On the dark suburban road, the vehicle's headlights pierced through the gloom, casting light over the empty road ahead.

The journey was uneventful.

They returned to the laboratory of Universe Biotechnology Co., Ltd.

At last, when Bardi stepped through the doors of Universe Biotechnology, the bright marble floor gleamed under the lighted walls. A sharp, needling pain shot up from the soles of his feet.

In his heart, he finally felt relief. The entire journey—safe.

Since everything had proceeded without incident, then the Codex of Life was truly secured. There weren't many obstacles left that could stand in his way.

He let Raven rest first, then headed straight to the negative second floor to begin extracting the Codex of Life.

Raven had no doubt in him. Bardi had never explicitly promised to spare the baby's life, but based on what he had said to her, she naturally believed he would not harm the child.

She believed in Bardi.

Negative second floor.

The white, soft rubber flooring cushioned Bardi's steps, lessening the sharp burning sensation beneath his feet.

But he had no time to appreciate the comfort. His steps across the rubber floor grew larger, faster.

The fire in his heart had finally ignited.

His breathing was slightly rushed, deliberately suppressed. His heartbeat ran ten percent faster than usual. His eyes gleamed with restrained excitement.

His facial features were sharp: high nose bridge, broad forehead, calm eyes suppressing inner fire, thin and ruthless lips tightly pressed. His slightly lifted cheeks added to his stoic, statue-like beauty.

Broad shoulders, tall stature, slender yet powerful. Beneath the white trench coat, his body tingled with goosebumps and pain, like thousands of needles piercing his skin and pushing outward.

His heart was burning. His face remained icy calm. His feet split through the cold mist like an axe as he walked forward.

He entered a surgical room that had been long prepared.

From the moment he bought this laboratory, from the time he moved in—everything had been planned.

He was going to extract the entire Codex of Life.

The Codex of Life was Krypton's genetic archive, the complete genetic library of the Kryptonian people. Just having it integrated into cells was enough to unlock limitless potential for Kryptonian development.

It's important to note—this was more like storage. It was integrated into cells, not into the genes. It fused with the user's own genetic makeup to form a new genetic sequence, becoming the host of all the Codex's genes. Once that happened, it could no longer be extracted at the genetic level. What could be retrieved afterward would only be useful for research.

It existed in the cells, stimulating potential over time. That's why Superman could still fight against other Kryptonians, because the Codex was merely stored in his body, not fused with his genes.

If it did fuse, Bardi had speculated deeply, it might become something like an infinitely evolving Doomsday body.

Each Kryptonian's genes were slightly different. Even if they were created with the same innate talents, their postnatal environment, temperament, and personality would vary—so would their displayed abilities.

For instance, among the group of ten elite scientists created during Jor-El's era, only Jor-El had stood out, far above the rest.

This unknown factor was difficult to explain. Kryptonian science described it as a form of evolution, an intertwining of consciousness and genes.

This subtle, acquired evolution was hard to define, even for Krypton's scientists.

Ancient Kryptonian scientists once attempted to understand the full secrets of physical genes. In one experiment, they used the Codex to fuse all genes, creating a constantly evolving monster that could adapt to anything.

But Bardi had searched long and hard for Doomsday, and still had no idea where it had gone.

All he knew was that, to truly become an infinitely evolving being, one needed the Codex of Life, and their own genes had to unlock and harmonize with all of Krypton's genetic material, becoming a monster that could evolve endlessly.

The operating room maintained a constant temperature of 15 degrees Celsius. Above, a long, thin metal robotic arm was suspended. The surrounding surgical tools gleamed coldly, pristine and sharp.

At the center was a strange surgical table, square, slightly larger than a baby, gently sloped toward the center. Its surface contained nearly 78,000 micro-holes, capable of draining any fluid drop by drop, ensuring none would be wasted.

Bardi held the swaddled child in one hand, his expression cold.

When Clark was removed from the swaddle and placed on the table, Bardi's eyes were devoid of emotion.

He extended his hand and, with a soft click, twisted the baby's neck.

The infant died in his sleep.

"...Unusual."

Bardi narrowed his eyes, this was strange.

Clark had been asleep the entire time, he had seen it.

Doubt flickered in his heart, but he didn't dwell on it. No matter what, once he had the Codex of Life, he could face any enemy.

At Bardi's command, the robotic arm above began to operate.

It immediately incised Clark's major arteries—arms, legs, and neck.

Blood poured out like a stream, gurgling beneath the intense incandescent lighting, flowing through the holes in the surgical table.

Below, the table base glowed deep red as it analyzed the sample.

"Master, a large number of cells containing genetic information have been detected. The nuclei contain diverse genetic data. Cross-referencing with Krypton's previous genetic database confirms partial match."

As expected—it was the Codex of Life.

Bardi nodded slightly, his eyes cold.

He silently watched Clark's blood drain away. The once chubby infant body withered and dried. His skin clung tightly to bones, his eyes sunken, his form reduced to a miniature skeleton.

All the blood had been extracted.

The Codex of Life was stored in the nuclei of blood cells. With every division and transmission, it released the gene's potential, yet it remained fixed in the nucleus. Now that the blood had been fully drained, the Codex was secured.

The rest was to extract, restructure, and modify the Codex to suit Bardi's physiology, then integrate it into his cells. After a period of adjustment, once stabilized, he would have unlimited potential—just like Superman.

As for becoming Doomsday... Bardi still had no answers.

"Destroy the brain tissue. Extract brain marrow, bone marrow, and test the nano-tachyon device."

A fierce glint flashed in Bardi's eyes. Since the Deathstroke incident, where someone had seemingly died with no heartbeat or breath, then reappeared, he could no longer trust conventional signs of death.

Because this world operated on logicband strange power.

At Bardi's command, the robotic arm inserted syringes into Clark's small ear canals, extracting the yellowish-white brain matter. The syringes filled quickly, then moved directly to cold storage.

Bone marrow was extracted next.

"Can someone still survive like this?"

Bardi's gaze burned, fixed on the shriveled little skeleton, its flesh clinging to bone, its skull sunken.

He didn't know.

Because in this DC world—too many bizarre, impossible things exist.

The Flash travels through time. Clark can resurrect.

Someone could collect his soul and reforge his body.

If the Presence declared you would live then you lived.

There were too many ways to be brought back to life.

Even the Black Lantern Ring of the Black Hand could be considered a form of resurrection.

Bardi pondered, his eyes flashing.

"Master, the nano superluminal-dimensional wormhole device is located in the second cervical vertebra, within the central spinal body. With our current equipment, it is difficult to control or utilize."

Hera's synthesized voice came from one of the mechanical arms. One section of the bone marrow had been left untouched.

"No need to control it. Mimic solar energy and implant it into the surrounding bone marrow to increase the instability of the superluminal wormhole trigger. Once this skeleton leaves the negative second floor, it will immediately detonate and cause the wormhole to spiral out of control—destroy it."

Bardi narrowed his eyes.

Once such a wormhole device loses control, it causes photon trajectory distortion at light-speed. There is no countermeasure.

On Earth, at least, Bardi couldn't think of anyone who could withstand a photon-tearing spatial rupture because that's the speed of light.

This was unlike Jor-El's method, where he tried to stabilize the wormhole and restrict tachyon flow. This had no limit.

"After three days, if nothing happens, trigger the destruction of the superluminal wormhole device and make it disappear from this world."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 181


In the early morning, it was a bit cold. The experimental building stood on either side of the avenue outside the door. The green grass trembled slightly, and the dense dewdrops moistened the blades of grass.

A faint mist obscured the windows.

All of this happened just as the golden sunlight broke through the sea of clouds and spread across the world.

It quietly dissipated.

Because it was too thin.

So thin that it couldn't form droplets, so faint that it was nearly invisible to the naked eye.

You could only feel a slight dampness when touching it with your hands.

It turned out to be fog.

On the second basement level, the cold air underfoot spread a layer of mist. The testing room was cold and empty.

He walked out of the testing room. The incandescent lights lit up the corridor brightly—no shadows, not even a human shadow. It was deathly cold, like a corridor stretched out from a ghost movie.

It was very quiet. The silence was so deep, it felt like one could reach the bottom of an icy abyss.

Bardi suddenly stopped. He was deep in thought, and the fierceness in his eyes faded into memories—a rare display of emotion.

He believed that memories could teach people lessons, allowing them to push forward from pain, step by step, until they became either the person they hated or the person they loved.

He could say that the person he was now was the version of himself he liked.

If possible, he didn't want Raven to leave his side.

It wasn't purely because Raven had great value—there was still a trace of pity in his heart. Maybe it was just a matter of getting used to her.

She had once been projected by her father to destroy an entire family. He had killed a family himself. The suffocating pain of that past still haunted him, and perhaps it was that shared suffering that drew Raven to his side.

Only now did he realize that this half-demon girl, in fact... by his side, was rather foolish, always loving him. It was... nice.

But what a pity. Maybe... it was time to part ways.

It was hard to say—how many women had he hurt at this point?

On the path to becoming the version of himself that he liked, he couldn't avoid hurting all kinds of people who loved him deeply.

Differences, irreconcilable contradictions, and difficult harmonies.

"What I need... isn't this kind of kindness."

Bardi's face was indifferent, and his eyes stagnated for a moment, as if he had lost his soul. A moment he didn't want to face had quietly crept up on him.

But in the blink of an eye, he gently tugged at his white trench coat, pulling it tighter around his chest, making the coat hug his body more closely—emphasizing his figure in the cold corridor. He stood there alone, cold and isolated, carrying all the pain in his heart along this endless, frigid hallway.

He never showed pain on his face or in his expressions.

He turned his head slightly and glanced behind him. Through the glass wall, a small skeleton lay inside a sterile glass cabinet, like a mummified exhibit in a museum. The corner of his mouth curled into a sneer as he turned and walked away.

The matter with Raven had to be resolved.

In any case, there was no avoiding it—Clark had died at Bardi's hands.

Of course, Bardi didn't know that the real consciousness of Clark was already aboard the faster-than-light wormhole device, Jor-El's last effort to preserve his son.

Naturally, Bardi wouldn't let go of anything, not a strand of Clark's hair, not a single flake of skin.

He was already considering how to destroy Clark's consciousness.

Without hesitation, Bardi descended to the negative floors and entered the elevator. He pressed the button for the fifteenth floor.

The button lit up, and he stood there waiting.

Raven's heart was restless, and she hadn't slept all night.

Her complexion was pale, drained of color, and her translucent eyes carried a trembling unease.

As if she had a premonition—something bad was about to happen.

Sunlight didn't pass through the ceiling's glass. Because of Bardi's condition, sunlight was no longer suitable for him. So blackout curtains were installed here, adhered to the glass to block the sunlight.

Even so, the gray hue of the room remained unobstructed.

Raven hugged her arms beneath her cloak. Her beautiful fingers dug deep into her slender arms. Her dark purple lips were tightly pressed together, her gaze unfocused, her thoughts chaotic. Her heart throbbed, and her body felt cold.

For some reason, she didn't want to face certain things.

To distract herself from the anxiety, she made breakfast. She didn't know if she was just nervous, or if she was subconsciously reminiscing about the first time she made breakfast for Bardi in the spiritual world. Without thinking, she fried eggs—forty-eight of them—stacking them into a high mountain.

Then she panicked even more. Back in the spiritual world, Bardi could silently eat eggs all day without twitching, and her emotions would swing wildly, scaring her to death.

This wouldn't do. She needed to fix it.

So, almost without thinking, she fried ninety-six hams because Bardi had once said breakfast needed two hams per egg, paired with milk, for enough nutritional calories.

But when she finished frying ninety-six hams, she looked at them and saw a pyramid of sizzling meat.

She thought to herself—it's over.

She must've cooked like a crazy wife!

Click…

The door opened. The smell of fried eggs and ham wafted out, mixed with a faint hint of overcooking, making Bardi feel as though he had returned to the spiritual world.

Only, the portion was a bit excessive. Although he used to eat far more than this before the gene collapse, now—his food intake had returned to that of a normal human.

This mountain of eggs and pyramid of ham, slightly burnt and crispy, was too much even for him.

Bardi's mouth twitched slightly.

Raven always acted foolishly when it came to little things like this… and yet she never resented him.

"Perfect. I'm hungry."

Bardi's face returned to normal as he spoke.

"Mm… mm…" Raven replied awkwardly with a nod. She'd been planning to devour 90% of it herself before Bardi arrived—but now that he was back, she could only respond awkwardly.

The feeling and atmosphere between them were like a young couple's—awkward and oddly endearing, enough to make one smile.

"…How is he?"

For some reason, Raven blurted out the question—like a wife casually asking her husband how work went today.

It was a casual question, one she hadn't really thought about, but it came out naturally.

Then her face stiffened, and she instantly regretted it.

Because the moment she asked, Bardi froze. The entire room seemed to fall into a heavy silence.

In an instant, it was as though a line between them had snapped. They felt infinitely distant, even while sitting right next to each other.

"Get the table set first. I'll eat and then tell you."

Bardi smiled slightly as he spoke. Then he took off his white trench coat, hung it on the wooden coat rack beside the chair, and sat at the dining table.

This was the last breakfast.

Raven responded softly. She lowered her eyes, set the utensils beside Bardi, and then sat next to him.

At this moment, looking at Bardi's profile up close—his features sharp, handsome, and sunlit—she couldn't help but think: beneath that tough exterior, how much pain had he endured? How much had he inflicted upon himself?

Why wouldn't he stop for a moment, look around, and smile with the sun?

Perhaps… he no longer could. This pain—he no longer saw it as pain.

Her eyes stung.

Bardi folded a napkin, hung it at his collar, picked up a knife and fork, and placed a piece of fried egg onto his plate from the top of the mountain. He cut into it, revealing the cooked yolk inside.

He took a bite. The outside was slightly bitter from being overcooked, but the inside still had a strong egg flavor.

He chewed twice, then gently set down the knife and fork, smiling with satisfaction.

"He's dead. I don't have the kindness you do in your heart. I… am a devil."

Bardi's face remained calm as he spoke.

He saw himself as a demon.

There might be no one else like him—who killed the one he loved most, walked on through the pain, and along the way, used and killed men and women, young and old, without distinction.

Even the cruelest of people might feel mercy when looking at a crying infant, and stay their hand.

But Bardi's blade did not stop.

As for his heart—he bore it all, and kept going.

There were those who believed in others, and bled before him.

There were those who loved others, and were shot by him.

There were those who placed their hopes in others, only to be used to death by him.

None of it could be endured without a heart of steel.

And now, he had endured it. He still sat here, ready to continue enduring it.

Perhaps, one day, when he sat on the highest throne, he would pass through Myanmar once more with quiet pain—and again, continue living in pain.

Raven suddenly reached out. Her hand was pale and crystalline, with faint blue veins and cold skin.

She cupped Bardi's mouth with her palm, her heart clenching.

"You are kind, radiant, and bring hope to others."

Her voice was hoarse, her heart aching.

She had seen the deepest parts of Bardi's heart. She knew him better than anyone else.

She could feel the torment within him.

The faith, admiration, and hope others placed in him, all of it rested on his shoulders.

That silent gaze filled with expectations.

The hope of all the civilians of the planet rested on him and with it, a heavy pain.

"No."

Bardi glanced lightly at her and let her hold his face.

"No. You do."

"You're in pain. You've endured all of this."

Raven's eyes filled with tears, her dark purple lips trembling. The tears welled up, dropped onto her cloak, and trickled down to the floor.

The tears of a demon were acidic and corrosive.

The expensive, hand-woven carpet below her feet was eaten away into a large hole. The acid continued to spread, releasing smoke as it corroded.

"I've seen your deepest heart!"

"I've merged with you."

"You long to transform the world, to bring light, to bring hope, to save everyone."

"You are light, even if no one understands you."

Raven sobbed, overcome with grief. She had stood in his heart—she had truly felt how much he was suffering.

He had let so many die, had countless girls fall in love with him and willingly die for him.

He had been powerless to save any of them.

That sense of helplessness… that kind of pain… it was enough to drive a person mad.

"You're overthinking it. I've disappointed you. I'm not a hero who saves the world."

Bardi's tone was flat, unmoved.

No one could sway his heart now—he couldn't be convinced to stop.

"I believe in you. You're doing the right thing, even in pain."

"I'll always stay by your side."

Raven's dark purple lips curled into a broken but radiant smile.

"Even if the world calls you a devil, even if your loved ones betray you, even if ten thousand people point fingers at you, I won't leave you. Because… I'm a devil too."

She lowered her head, closed her eyes. When she opened them again—four red pupils shone with a crimson glow, gazing affectionately at Bardi.

She wouldn't let him bear the suffering alone, she would walk beside him.

She would hold his hand, tell him she wouldn't leave, and support him.

Even if it meant becoming a devil herself.

Bardi froze.

What he needed… was someone who would stay by his side.

Regardless of whether he was good or evil, rich or poor—as long as they stayed, loved him, and never left.

Not someone who'd leave if he turned bad. Not someone who'd walk away when life got hard.

What was the point of that?

It was about being together through life and death—following behind, supporting, and enduring.

The spiritual bond forged over decades, the deep understanding, Raven's willingness to sacrifice for him.

His blood surged, rushing through every vessel. His once lifeless eyes stirred with silent emotion—tinged with warmth and longing.

They looked at each other.

In that instant, their hearts grew warm. The heat of emotion rose between them. Their body temperatures rose.

Raven pounced on him. Bardi reached out to embrace her. Her waist was slender, and her body pressed close. Their lips met—

Intense, to the point of desperation.

The fried eggs and ham on the table crashed to the ground as Bardi swept them aside.

The two kissed fiercely. Bardi lifted Raven and pressed her onto the empty dining table.

Clothes were torn.

"Master, please control your overwhelming enthusiasm."

At this moment, Hera chose to interrupt.

"I'm a little busy, Hera. Speak later if it's not urgent."

Bardi had removed Raven's cloak and was fumbling with her tights.

Raven's face was flushed, shy, her arms wrapped around Bardi's neck, pulling him close. Her breath was hot, and the air between them ignited.

They didn't part for a single moment.

"Someone is trying to take Clark's body…"

Hera, clearly against her better judgment, interrupted the excited pair again. According to her calculations, Clark's situation was clearly more important than this moment of passion.

Bardi instantly sobered up, like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head.

(To be continued.)