Supreme Demon Emperor Returns

10. Negotiation at the Brink of Death

The cyanide gas spread rapidly, turning the air in the execution room into a greenish-white shroud of death. The sickening scent of bitter almonds pierced the nostrils, making eyes sting and lungs burn.

"Master, we have to get out of here," Fenrir said. He stepped toward the steel door, preparing to demolish it for the second time.

"Don’t," Xavier stopped him, his voice raspy and broken by coughs. He leaned against the wall, every breath feeling like swallowing shards of glass. "That door... cough... is connected to an explosive system. If you break it, this entire basement will be destroyed."

Fenrir stopped, staring at his boss. "How do you know?"

"I saw it... in the mind of the guard you killed earlier," Xavier replied. His fragile mortal body rejected the poison brutally. His head throbbed, and his vision began to spin. "Marcus isn't just paranoid. He is a cunning bastard."

"Then what is the plan, Boss?" Fenrir asked, his tone remaining calm despite being surrounded by lethal gas. As a demon, the poison would not kill him, but it would still damage his physical vessel if exposed for too long.

Xavier did not answer. He stared at the blood seal he had just drawn on the floor. His first plan had failed, but the foundation was laid. He couldn't break the door physically, so he would break it mentally.

"Marcus is in the control room, isn't he?" Xavier asked, more to himself. "He must be watching us die from his monitors."

He dragged his broken body toward the blood seal. He sat cross-legged in the center, ignoring the agony in his shattered knee.

"Fenrir," he called out. "Whatever happens to me, do not touch me. Do you understand?"

"But, Master..."

"Do you understand?" Xavier repeated with an emphasis that could not be argued.

Fenrir bowed his head obediently. "Understood."

Xavier closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, enduring the burning sensation tearing through his lungs. He focused all his remaining strength, pouring it into the blood seal beneath him.

Marcus Thorne. I know you can hear me.

Xavier’s mind surged through concrete walls and wiring, searching for the consciousness of the logistics director.

In the safety of the control room, Marcus Thorne laughed hysterically. He stared at the monitors showing the trapped Xavier and Fenrir.

"Die! Die, you monster bastards!" he screamed while gulping down the rest of his whiskey. "You think you can beat me? I run this city, not a ghost like you!"

Suddenly, a cold voice echoed inside his head, making his laughter stop instantly.

"Are you so sure you are in control, Marcus?"

Marcus froze. He looked left and right. There was no one in the room. "Who’s that? Who’s talking?"

"You know who I am," Xavier’s voice answered in his mind. "I am your greatest mistake. I am the debt that has come to collect."

"Impossible! You’re inside that room! I see you on the screen!" Marcus pointed at the monitors with a trembling hand.

"My body may be there," the voice whispered, now sounding as if it were right behind Marcus’s ear. "But my mind... is here with you."

The monitors in front of Marcus suddenly flickered, then went pitch black. The control room became dark, lit only by a red emergency light.

"What is this? Hey! Can anyone hear me?" Marcus shouted into the intercom, but only static answered him.

"No one is going to help you, Marcus. I have cut all your communications," Xavier’s voice said. "Now there is only you, me, and your sins."

The steel walls in the control room began to appear rusted and smeared with blood in Marcus’s eyes. The smell of copper began to rise.

"This isn't real! It’s just a trick!" Marcus shrieked, backing his chair into the wall.

"Oh, it is very real."

A transparent figure of Xavier’s rotting grandfather suddenly crawled out from under the console desk. His eyes were hollow, and maggots spilled from his gaping mouth. The figure crawled slowly toward Marcus.

"NO! STAY BACK!" Marcus roared, kicking out in a panic.

In the execution room, Xavier’s body began to convulse. Blood seeped from his nose and ears. Forcing telepathy with a physical condition this fragile was suicide. He was gambling that his own brain would burn out.

Hold on... just a little more...

"You killed him, Marcus," the illusion of Xavier’s grandfather whispered, his voice like dry bones grinding together. "You signed that warrant. You let them inject the poison into my blood."

"It wasn't me! It was Isabella! She told me to!" Marcus sobbed.

"But your hand did it," the illusion said as it continued to crawl closer. "Now... it’s your turn to taste the poison."

Marcus felt his throat tighten. He gasped for air, trying to breathe as if an invisible hand were choking him. He clutched his own neck, his eyes bulging in horror. The pain of oxygen deprivation felt incredibly real.

ENOUGH! ENOUGH! I BEG YOU! he screamed in his mind, as he could no longer speak.

"Open the door," Xavier’s voice commanded.

Marcus shook his head in panic.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" the voice roared, shaking Marcus’s entire skull. "OR I WILL LET HIM RIP YOUR SOUL OUT FROM THE INSIDE!"

The illusion of the grandfather was now directly in front of Marcus’s face, opening its maggot-filled mouth.

Fear finally shattered Marcus’s sanity. He couldn't take it anymore. With a frantic motion, he slammed the large red button on the control panel beside him. The button to open the execution room door.

The triple-layered steel door hissed open with a loud hydraulic sound.

The cyanide gas immediately drifted out into the corridor.

Xavier, whose body was at its absolute limit, smiled weakly. He had succeeded.

He stumbled out of the room through the remnants of the poisonous smoke. His broken leg dragged across the floor. Every step was torture. Fenrir followed behind him, ready to catch him if he collapsed.

Marcus saw the figure of Xavier approaching the control room through the flickering monitors that had begun to turn back on. The figure was battered, blood-soaked, and barely standing. But his eyes... those blue eyes burned in the dark like two pits leading to hell.

Marcus fell from his chair, crying and begging for mercy. "Please... don't kill me... I'll do anything..."

Xavier arrived at the control room door. He didn't go in. He simply tossed a piece of paper and a pen he had taken from his inner pocket. The paper landed right in front of Marcus’s face. Miraculously, the paper was not wet with blood. On its edges, there were small black flames that did not burn it.

"Sign it," Xavier commanded, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. "The surrender of all your offshore assets."

Marcus stared at the paper, then at Xavier’s eyes. He had no other choice. With a trembling hand, he crawled forward, took the pen, and signed the document on the cold floor.