Chapter 2: The Life of a Demon (2)
"Hand over the Essence Bead, Demon," Brock said coolly. His black eyes were emotionless, and his even blacker hair was smooth as silk. "You are not worthy."
Reflected in his mirror-like eyes was a red figure, but its beastly appearance could be seen clearly even then.
This figure had cloudy white hair, disheveled and sprawled over his shoulders.
His body was covered in red armor from the neck down. The sound of gears turning and screws screeching against nuts kept coming out of it. From the joints of the armor, a burst of white and yellow steam came out now and then, jolting his body which hovered above the earth. But even this armor couldn’t hide the most striking thing about this man.
It was his eyes.
Hazel, pure but defiant.
The white of his eyes had been claimed by the dense blood-red veins, starting from the corner of his eyes and reaching towards the center. It was like thousands of lava-rivers were fueling those golden-colored seas in his pupils.
"How many innocent people have died under your hands?" Brock asked.
Brock’s question brought about a shout of rage from all the men and women surrounding the white-haired creature.
All had known, publicly, the notorious and condemning deeds of the Messiah-turned-Demon.
Massacres, assassinations, kidnappings, and rapes; name the crime and he had committed it.