Hawk and Gwen embraced on the sofa.
But...
After not long of embracing, feeling Hawk's claws becoming somewhat restless, Gwen opened her eyes, slapped Hawk's claws down, got up from the sofa, grabbed the latest biological journal, gave Hawk a sidelong glance, and walked towards the study, wearing slippers.
Two months of the uniform temptation was already enough.
Still want a free extra meal?
Impossible.
Hawk watched as Gwen walked up the stairs without looking back, smiled slightly, and then turned his gaze away.
The next second.
His mind descended into the Netherworld's Nether Prison.
The Second Prison, Torrential Rain Nether Prison!
In a boundless world where ceaselessly corrosive acid rain fell all day, the six-winged angel Michael had already become bloody and mangled.
His body was constantly burning from the acid rain, making a sizzling sound.
At the same time, his three pairs of magnificent wings behind him became like chicken wings that were fried but not completely plucked.
Even whenever Michael used his wings to block the acid rain from corroding his flawless face, a crimson whip would instantly strike him, making him emit an uncontrollable scream.
"Ah!"
"Move it!"
After retrieving the whip, the Blood Elf who was serving as the Prison Guard of the Second Prison shouted fiercely at the screaming Michael.
Because they were creatures from the Netherworld, the Blood Elves were naturally immune to the acid rain here.
Apart from the Second Prison, in the other Nether Prisons, there were also some Blood Elves acting as prison guards tirelessly whipping the souls receiving punishment here.
Hawk appeared abruptly.
Upon seeing him, the Blood Elf immediately knelt on one knee.
"Greetings, Netherworld King!"
"Hmm, you can withdraw for now."
"Yes."
After the Blood Elf rose and turned around, their figure vanished like a flash from the Second Prison.
Except for the first female Blood Elf Kaela and the first male Blood Elf Ben who called Hawk 'Master', the rest of the Blood Elves addressed him as the Netherworld King.
This was upon Kaela and Ben's request.
After all, in the West, calling someone 'Master' sounded more intimate than 'Netherworld King.'
Hawk couldn't be bothered to argue much about this title, so he didn't say anything.
The moment he appeared, the perpetual acid rain in the Second Prison also temporarily ceased.
However, at this moment, Michael already looked like a chicken tossed into the oil fryer without being plucked.
Hawk glanced, his eyes crimson!
Puff!
Michael died on the spot, and when he revived once more, he was back to full health on the spot.
"Still looks more decent this way, not so grotesque."
"Heretic..."
Even in death, even deeply trapped in Hawk's Nether Prison, Michael still maintained his Archangel posture, staring unwaveringly at Hawk: "The Lord will judge you."
Hawk appeared calm.
"Oh? I don't think he's qualified to judge me."
"The Lord has the authority to judge any being."
"Is that so."
Hawk smiled at Michael: "Tell me the coordinates of the Heaven Dimension, so I can go find Yahweh now."
Michael said nothing.
Hawk sneered.
"See, you don't even have the courage to tell me the coordinates of the Heaven Dimension, yet you speak such nonsense about Yahweh having the authority to judge me, even you don't believe it."
"The Lord will judge you."
Michael's expression remained unchanged, coldly staring at Hawk, saying only: "My faith in the Lord cannot be broken by any means you employ, even if you refine my soul, that won't change."
Hearing this, Hawk looked at Michael and nodded.
"Alright, then I won't refine your soul."
"..."
Michael's cold expression didn't change, but his breathing noticeably halted.
Perhaps he thought he was well-concealed.
But in the Netherworld, as long as Hawk wished, any soul's every move was hard to escape his perception.
So...
Hawk's face showed a trace of a smile, looking at Michael: "Don't worry, not only you, henceforth any Angel souls coming here, I won't refine them, your future will reside only in this Nether Prison, enduring endless pain, with the term — Eternal!"
Michael's facial expression changed.
But at this moment, the previously halted relentless torrential acid rain attacked once more, almost instantly, burning through Michael's face, arms, and wings again as he shrieked miserably.
Just as Michael instinctively crouched down at that moment.
The Blood Elf reappeared.
"Snap!"
"Get up, move, quickly, Birdman!"
"Snap!"
"Ah!"
Michael screamed miserably again, his eyes scorched by the acid rain, no longer pristine, still staring in the direction where Hawk was before his eyes were damaged.
But unfortunately, Hawk had already left.
He came here to see Michael, simply wanting to witness Michael's miserable plight.
That's all.
Hawk never intended to make Michael submit, and even if Michael wanted to submit, Hawk wouldn't accept it either.
As everyone knows.
People who play with religious beliefs are all very extreme and sinister.
Either a holy war.
Or still a holy war.
The most important point.
Michael seems very eager to desecrate his Netherworld, so naturally, Hawk makes it even more impossible for Michael to succeed.
Just like Hawk said before leaving.
Michael's future has only one path, which is eternal suffering in the Torrential Rain Nether Prison.
In the evening.
Hawk received a message from Mephisto, glanced at Gwen, who was panting in her white silk glasses and teacher's uniform beside him, smiled slightly, kissed Gwen, then put on his pajamas, tore open a Space-Time Rift, and entered the Hell Dimension once again.
Upon entering.
The Hell Dimension was still in chaos.
Having been here several times, Hawk, quite familiar now, directly went to the Hell Tavern.
Mephisto, acting as the bartender in the Hell Tavern, cheerfully invited Hawk to sit, and then performed a Hell-style bartending show for him.
After a while.
A glass of bright red bourbon whiskey was pushed in front of Hawk.
"Added with Angel's Blood, heated with Hellfire, combined with the most classic Thunder Bourbon from Earth, the Angel Whiskey."
"Please enjoy."
"..."
Listening to Mephisto's introduction, and looking at the bright red whiskey still flaring with Hellfire in front of him, Hawk couldn't help but twitch the corner of his mouth, looked up at Mephisto.
Mephisto had already taken a sip and was looking at him expectantly.
Hawk thought for a moment, picked up the glass, and took a sip.
As it entered!
A sacred flavor burst instantly in his mouth.
One word.
Delicious!
Hawk's eyes lit up and he drank the whole glass in one go.
Mephisto laughed heartily and refilled Hawk's glass.
"How is it, not bad, right? These Birdmen, aside from everything else, are a treasure of ingredients themselves. I deliberately kept over five hundred Birdmen alive. Right, you haven't tried roasted Angel wings yet, have you? I'll make one for you to try later on."
"..."
Hawk, hearing this and seeing Mephisto's crimson teeth bared with a ferocious smile and angry eyes, laughed: "Now I'm pretty sure you're not an ally with Yahweh."
Mephisto laughed heartily: "I was never in the same league with him; I deceive people, but I never toy with faith."
Hawk nodded, acknowledging this.
In fact, thinking carefully, Blood God Madola saying Mephisto and Yahweh are in cahoots was a very flimsy lie.
If you think carefully, you can find many loopholes in Blood God Madola's words.
For instance, how can there be such a coincidence?
Mephisto doesn't rely solely on one Planet of Life for a steady supply of souls.
Blood God Madola was quite underwhelming; even as a dimension ruler, how could it be such a coincidence that he vanished completely after chopping up Deacon Frost?
Too much coincidence isn't coincidence, but premeditation.
And one more thing.
Mephisto needs souls to maintain his existence.
Whereas Yahweh, like the Celestial God Race, was created by the Celestial God Team to hasten the hatching of new Celestial Gods.
This alone destined that Mephisto and Yahweh could not peacefully coexist.
Fortunately, he didn't quite believe Blood God Madola either.
Just like what he said at the time.
Mephisto may not be a good guy, but Blood God Madola is not necessarily an honest one either.
Sure enough.
Blood God Madola's very name was a sham; his name is Michael, Archangel of Heaven.
Hawk muttered in amusement, shaking his head, and took the glass from Mephisto.
"How long will your injuries take to heal?"
"I'm already fine."
Mephisto puffed out his chest.
Hawk raised an eyebrow, his eyes lit with a golden glow, and as they fell upon Mephisto, they revealed Mephisto's true form.
Bright red blood, like lava, still seeped from Mephisto's Demon body.
The broken Demon's Horn on his head was also bleeding.
Afterward, Hawk smiled silently at Mephisto.
Mephisto smacked his lips, drank his glass of liquor in one gulp, and took a deep breath.
"Earth Day, one year."
"This time that old bastard Yahweh caught me off guard and detonated all the hidden Angel souls in Hell, severely injuring me. I need at least a year to absorb Hell Energy in order to recover."
Hawk, recalling the devastated Hell he just passed through, nodded, looking at Mephisto.
"So you can't go to Earth to find that developing Hell Angel?"
"Hehe."
Mephisto shook his head with a wry smile: "That's Yahweh's crafty part. Yes, if no one helps me, I can only watch the fully grown Hell Angel come to seize my power."
As he spoke, Mephisto's eyes were bright, staring straight at Hawk.
As if to say!
Brother, lend me a hand.
Facing Mephisto's gaze, Hawk pondered and then drank his glass of liquor before looking at Mephisto.
"Don't worry, I will help you."
"..."