Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

The door slid open automatically, revealing a simple room with a table, a chair, and a monitor on the wall. The screen displayed two data streams in real time, divided into left and right columns:
On the left is the progress of Lucifer's power analysis: 87%.

On the right is the progress of Michael's power analysis: 91%.

The completion rate of the devouring strategy simulation: 43%.

Wu Heng sat down in the chair and pulled up today's analysis report.

Black and white crystals rotated in the virtual interface, alongside a dense array of data scrolling by: energy density, waveform characteristics, rule affinity, soul imprint strength, etc.

His gaze lingered on the 'Soul Imprint' section.

Lucifer's imprint depth: Level 9.7.

Michael's Imprint Depth: Level 9.9.

Too high.

This means that even if the physical body is annihilated and its power is drained, the imprint of their soul may still remain, like a watermark left on burnt paper, which can reappear under certain conditions. To completely devour them, the imprint must be erased along with them.

Wu Heng pulled up another file.

The title is: "Observational Report on the Cassidio-Leviathan Fusion".

There are three photos in the file.

The first photo was taken outside the Suefors warehouse. In the blurry night, Castio's departing figure is visible. The photo has been enhanced, and you can see the fine corrosion marks on the ground beneath his feet.

The second photo was taken a week ago in a desert in Nevada.

Castio hovered in mid-air, with a huge phantom behind him, like a whale, a giant snake, or some kind of deep-sea monster. The phantom only appeared for 0.3 seconds before he forcibly suppressed it back into his body.

The third photo was taken yesterday; it shows Castillo on the streets of New York.

He looked no different than before, but a close-up of his eyes revealed a pale yellow halo deep within his pupils, a characteristic of Leviathan's energy.

At the end of the document is a handwritten note:
"Castio mistakenly inhaled Leviathan, thinking it would enhance his power, but it was actually parasitism. Leviathan is slowly eroding his will, and the process is irreversible. The estimated time to fully control him is 37-48 days."

"We will not intervene for the time being, but observe the behavior patterns of the fusion entity and collect data on the symbiosis between purgatory creatures and angels. This data will be valuable for improving the devouring plan."

Wu Heng closed the file.

He didn't tell anyone.

Dean didn't know, Sam didn't know, Bobby didn't know, everyone in the guild was still relaxed after the Apocalypse Crisis was over, busy with daily tasks, repairing defenses, and enjoying the rare peace.

Sometimes, 'not knowing' is actually a form of protection.

He got up and left the room, the door closing silently behind him.

At the end of the corridor was the elevator. Wu Heng went in and pressed the button for the ground floor.

As the elevator ascended, he straightened his collar and wiped away any unnecessary expressions from his face.

When he stepped out of the elevator, he transformed back into the calm, reliable, and always-in-control Witcher Guild Master—Lor Morric.

The ground-level command center was bustling with activity.

A map of global paranormal events scrolls across the large screen.

Compared to a month ago, the number of red dots has decreased by 90%.

Demon activity has decreased significantly, and low-level monsters have also become much less active.

“President.” Renault walked over, holding a tablet in his hand. “In the past 24 hours, only 17 evil anomalies of level C or above have occurred globally. Among them, 12 were low-level ghost disturbances, 3 were shapeshifters in disguise, and 2 were… uh, some kind of demons illegally smuggling themselves in.”

"What about the other side of hell?" Wu Heng asked.

“Unusually quiet.” Renault pulled up the surveillance footage of the Hellfire Line. “The demonic tide has completely receded, and we’ve barely seen any patrols. Our scouts have penetrated thirty kilometers and only found some scattered low-level demons. They run away as soon as they see us and don’t engage in combat at all.” “Crowley is consolidating his forces,” Wu Heng said, looking at the screen.

"How do you know?"

“Just guessing.” Wu Heng turned and walked toward the tactical platform. “Hell doesn’t have a vacuum. Lucifer was sealed away, creating a power vacuum. Someone will always want to take that position. Crowley is the most suitable candidate. He has experience, resources, and ambition.”

Renault pondered, "So the infighting among demons has begun?"

“It started a long time ago.” Wu Heng pulled up another intelligence report. “In the past week, at least four large-scale conflicts were detected in the Hell energy fluctuations, all located in the deep Hell. The participants were all high-ranking demon lords. Crowley is purging dissidents and rebuilding his kingdom.”

"So what do we need to do?"

“We don’t need to do anything,” Wu Heng said. “Let them fight. The longer they fight, the more they will be exhausted, which will be more beneficial to us. We will strengthen our defenses and monitoring to prevent any demonic forces from desperately trying to invade the human world and divert attention from our own problems. We can just watch the show.”

Renault nodded and was about to leave when Wu Heng called him back.

Where are Dean and Sam?

“On the training ground, he’s getting used to his new body.” Reno smiled. “Dean almost tore his ‘little brother’ apart yesterday. He can’t control the strength in his fingers. Sam is a bit better, but he still occasionally walks with his hands and feet moving in unison.”

"Let them keep practicing," Wu Heng said. "They'll have a task for them in three days."

"What mission?"

"we'll talk about it then."

Wu Heng didn't explain. He looked out the window. The sky was azure, the sun was shining brightly, and it seemed like a peaceful day.

But he knew that some storms were brewing in places unseen.

At the same time, deep within hell.

There is no sky here, only an endless, upward-reaching rock dome.

The ground is a black plain formed from cooled magma, with dark red light seeping from the cracks.

The air was thick with the mixed smell of sulfur and blood; every breath felt like swallowing burning coals.

In the center of the plain stands a skeletal structure.

It was made up of the bones of thousands of demons, with green flames burning in the eye sockets of the highest skull.

Crowley sat there, legs crossed, holding a glass of bubbling black liquid.

Three demon lords knelt before him.

The one on the left has four arms, each wielding a different weapon: a serrated knife, a flame whip, a venom dagger, and a still-beating heart.

The figure in the middle was blurry, like a shadow that kept changing shape.

The one on the right is the simplest; it's a three-meter-tall rock giant, but lava flows through every crevice of the rock.

"Finished?" Crowley took a sip of the liquid in his glass and frowned. "This stuff tastes awful. Get something better next time."

The three-armed demon lord raised his head: "Lord Crowley, we are willing to submit, but what are your demands?"

“My demands are simple,” Crowley interrupted him. “Relinquish your military power, your territory, and all the souls you’ve hoarded, and I will let you live as my… well, advisors.”

The Shadow Lord spoke in a hoarse voice: "Are you trying to turn us into empty shells?"

“An empty shell is better than dead.” Crowley put down his cup, stood up, and walked down the steps of the throne.

His leather shoes crunched on the bones with a crisp sound: "Lucifer has fallen, Michael has fallen, Heaven is now preoccupied with its own problems, this is the perfect time for Hell to unify. And unification requires sacrifice, sacrifice of your power, your wealth, your freedom." (End of Chapter)