Chapter 7: Devil vs Devil
Dirga’s strategy was simple in concept—draw out Domiscus Vantasio’s greed and dangle immortality just within reach. He had three days before the final deadline, and he planned to spend every moment sharpening his trap. He would lure the old devil in with dark rituals and false hope. And when Vantasio finally believed he had achieved godhood... that’s when Dirga would strike.
But killing one of the most powerful men in the country wasn’t the hard part. Surviving afterward was.
By 9:00 PM, Dirga stood amidst the chaos of his apartment. Books were stacked haphazardly, pages ripped and scrawled with runes. The air was thick with the pungent smell of herbs and burnt incense. Blood smeared the floor—rat, bird, and something that might’ve been a possum. His hair was a mess. His shirt, torn and stained. The living room looked less like a residence and more like the lair of a mad alchemist.
"I think I’m ready," Dirga muttered to himself, eyes hollow but steady.
He didn’t bother to shower. Didn’t even use cologne. The herbal stench clung to his skin like a second layer. He wanted the smell to follow him, to make the ritual feel more immersive... more real.
He grabbed his jacket and stepped outside.
Tonight, he took the AE86 Trueno again, same as in the morning. But this time, the mood was different. He felt like a dark knight heading to the dragon’s den—not to rescue anyone, but to slay the beast and wear its crown.
When he arrived at the hotel, the lobby was dimly lit, eerie even under the chandeliers. As he stepped inside, Lilith was already waiting at the reception, her crimson lips curled into that usual teasing smile.
"Hello again, Mr. Dirgantara," she purred. "Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve helped... with your preparations."
Any other man might have melted at her voice.
Dirga raised an eyebrow. "Better try harder."