Supreme Demon Emperor Returns

7. Tears of Blood and the Devil’s Gambit

The torrential rain outside seemed to be trying to wash away the blood pooling on the floor of Arthur’s apartment, but it was a futile effort. Inside, the silence was deafening. Xavier stood in the center of the room, his gaze fixed on the body of the old man lying at his feet. The silver pocket watch in his hand felt cold, colder than the corpse itself.

Lyra glanced at her watch, then toward the door. "Boss, we have to go. I’ve held off the 911 calls for twenty minutes, but an NYPD routine patrol will pass this block shortly."

Fenrir added in his heavy voice, "These bodies will be a problem."

Xavier did not turn around. He did not scream. He did not smash the furniture. He simply stood there, and then something strange began to happen.

A drop of thick red liquid traced a path from the corner of his right eye, cutting through the dried blood on his cheek. Then another drop fell from his left.

He was crying.

But the tears falling from his eyelids were not clear. They were the color of blood.

Lyra took an involuntary step back, her eyes, usually full of sarcasm, now filled with pure dread. She could feel the aura around Xavier shifting. The hellish power that had once been turbulent was now calm. Calm like the surface of a frozen lake in the middle of an eternal winter. It was far more terrifying. The process of closing his heart was complete.

"Fenrir," Xavier called out. His voice was flat, without a single tremor. "Clean everything up. I want no trace left behind. Burn this building if necessary."

"And... Arthur’s body?" Fenrir asked hesitantly.

"Bring him," Xavier replied. "He will not rot here like a dog."

He turned, stepping through the puddles of blood as if they were merely rainwater. He did not look back. The man who had crawled to embrace Arthur in desperation just minutes ago was now dead, buried alongside the old man’s remains. What walked out of that apartment now was something else.

The journey back to the Bronx took place in total silence. Xavier sat in the back seat, watching the raindrops race across the window glass. His hand remained tightly clenched around the silver pocket watch. He did not think of sadness. He did not think of loss. His brain, now operating with the efficiency of a machine, began to process data. Analyzing the enemy's weaknesses. Designing a strategy.

They arrived at the warehouse. Xavier stepped inside, removed his wet, blood-scented coat, and tossed it into a trash bin. He took a fresh, clean coat from a closet Lyra had prepared. He had shed his skin.

"Report," he said, lighting a cigarette. Smoke curled from his lips, obscuring eyes that now emitted a faint blue glow.

Lyra switched on her tablet. A three-dimensional hologram of a modern industrial building appeared in the center of the room. "Marcus Thorne. Director of the Aristhos Corp Logistics Division. Forty-eight years old. He is the one who signed the recall order for your Aston Martin for 'maintenance' the day before the crash. He also approved the hiring of the clean-up crew we just neutralized."

"Where is he now?"

"Hiding," Lyra replied. "Since your death was announced, he hasn't left his logistics headquarters in Queens. He knows he is the weak link and fears Isabella will silence him."

"He has reason to fear," Xavier said. "But not of Isabella."

"There is a problem, Boss," Lyra continued, enlarging the hologram. "This building is more a fortress than a warehouse. I’ve been trying to hack it for the past three days. Nothing."

Lyra pointed to several spots on the hologram. "Retinal biometric security at every entrance. Body temperature and heart rate sensors in every corridor, making a disguise impossible. The main doors and the control room are made of triple-layered, explosion-proof steel. Technically, it’s impossible to breach without an access card and a biological sample from Marcus himself."

Fenrir grunted. "I can kick the door down."

"And trigger a silent alarm connected directly to the Pentagon that brings half the NYPD force here in three minutes?" Lyra countered sarcastically. "Inefficient. We would be trapped like rats."

"You could cut the power again," Fenrir suggested.

"It won’t work," Lyra said, shaking her head. "This fortress has three independent backup generators not connected to the city grid. If the main power fails, the system automatically engages within 0.2 seconds. Marcus is truly paranoid."

A silence followed. Only the sound of rain on the warehouse roof could be heard. The problem was clear. They were facing a fortress that could not be breached from the outside.

"So," Lyra looked at Xavier, "what is the plan, Boss? Stealth infiltration? A more sophisticated cyber attack? We could try kidnapping his family to lure him out."

Xavier did not answer immediately. He walked around the hologram, his blue eyes scanning every inch of the digital blueprint. He took a deep drag of his cigarette.

"Too slow," he said after a long silence.

"A frontal assault?" Fenrir asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Too loud," Xavier replied. He stopped in front of the main lobby hologram. He stared at the red dot marking the location of the primary security camera.

He exhaled the cigarette smoke slowly. "A security system this advanced is not designed to stop an attack from the outside. It is designed to detect an anomaly. Something or someone that isn't supposed to be there."

"True," Lyra said, not yet understanding the direction of the conversation.

"So," Xavier continued, "we will not give him an anomaly. We will give him exactly what he isn't looking for."

"And that is?" Lyra asked, her brow furrowing.

Xavier finally turned, looking at his two demonic guards. His blue-glowing eyes were now completely vacant, devoid of emotion, devoid of doubt. There was only lethal, cold logic.

"The system will not look for a ghost," he said. "It will not be on guard against someone who is supposed to be ashes at the bottom of a ravine."

Lyra and Fenrir fell silent. They began to understand.

"You don't mean..." Lyra whispered, horrified.

Xavier pointed to himself with the tip of his cigarette.

"I will walk through the front door," he said in a flat tone. "No weapons. No disguise. I will let them capture me. I will let them drag me into the deepest room of that fortress. I will be their Trojan Horse."

Fenrir clenched his fists. "They will torture you to death, Master."

"I have already died," Xavier answered coldly. "I want to see what else they can do to me."

He dropped the cigarette butt to the floor and ground it out with his foot. "Prepare my best suit, Lyra. Tomorrow morning, I am going to visit one of my old employees."