Belphegor, a behemoth forged from a thousand years of unyielding will and ten thousand battles, now trembled on the precipice of collapse. Sweat dripped from his brow, his muscles quivering beneath his skin as he clenched his jaws to stifle a cry.
The agony had shattered his legendary composure.
Just when his resolve seemed about to break completely, the infernal torment ceased.
The sudden silence was deafening.
Belphegor huffed and puffed, his chest heaving as he struggled to replenish his depleted oxygen. His mind reeled, grasping for coherence amidst the lingering echoes of pain.
As his senses slowly returned, his gaze swept the room—where the lifeless body of the man he had killed earlier, John, lay still on the floor.
The System's voice pierced the stillness.
> "Punishment concluded. Behavior modification initiated."
Belphegor's mind seethed with fury and humiliation.
How dare they, he thought. A being of my stature, reduced to trembling like a mortal.
The punishment had shaken him, exposing vulnerabilities he'd long buried.
> "How… fragile I've become," he muttered, disgust etched across his face.
"The System's grip is tighter than I anticipated."
The System's voice cut through his reflection.
> "Behavior modification initiated. To ensure compliance, your abilities will be tied to humanity's well-being. Each act of kindness, each life saved, will restore a fraction of your powers."
Belphegor's eyes widened in outrage.
> "You seek to tame me? Make me a servant to these insolent mortals?"
> "Your actions will dictate the rate of your recovery," the System replied.
"The more you contribute to humanity's welfare, the faster your powers will return."
Belphegor's thoughts swirled with defiance and calculation.
I'll play along, he thought. But only to regain my strength. Then, I'll show them the true meaning of power.
> "Remember, Belphegor," the System warned, "I will monitor your every move. Compliance is not optional."
His gaze locked onto the floor, expression twisted in resentment.
---
Just then, someone passed by the room, the door still open from the earlier incident. A woman glanced inside—and froze. Her coworker lay lifeless on the ground, and beside him stood a man, chest heaving, eyes wild.
She screamed.
The sound drew others. Within moments, ten people had gathered around her, clutching whatever they could find as makeshift weapons.
"What is it?" they shouted.
The woman didn't answer. She simply stared into the room, paralyzed with horror.
Their eyes followed hers. Then:
> "John!" one of them cried out, voice trembling with rage.
Recognition struck several of them. Their faces contorted with grief and fury as they took in Belphegor's ragged figure.
> "Murderer!"
"Kill him!"
"You monster!"
Belphegor, watching the scene unfold, pulled himself upright. He glanced lazily at the man who had called him a monster. His lips curled into a smirk.
> "Me, a monster?" he scoffed.
"I'm more handsome than anyone your entire bloodline has ever produced."
But they weren't in the mood for banter.
They charged.
Belphegor cracked a smile, raising his hands to theatrically slam his fists together. But—
He couldn't move.
The System's voice rang out:
> "You're not planning on making a move, are you?"
Before Belphegor could curse the System and its ancestors, the first blow landed.
Fists and sticks rained down. Each hit echoed with thuds and grunts. Belphegor stood there, frozen, his expression hardening. Inside, his pride boiled with humiliation.
He seethed silently.
I will remember this. I will remember all of this.
He tried to memorize their faces, but his vision blurred. Even the woman who had first screamed—her features slipped from his mind like mist.
> "I won't let you do what you're thinking," the System said coldly.
Frustration boiled in Belphegor's chest.
Just how much control of my body does this bloody System have?
Can I even call this my body anymore, if it can be hijacked at will?
His thoughts darkened with despair.
---
The attackers' hands began to ache. Sticks splintered and snapped. And still, Belphegor stood firm—unmoving, unflinching.
That was when the fear began to creep in.
> He really is a monster.
Their rage slowly gave way to unease… and then terror.
The assault stopped. They backed away, trembling.
> "Get out!" one shouted, voice shaking.
> "Yeah, leave! Now!"
Belphegor, still frozen, heard their retreat.
He was about to move when—ping!
The System's voice returned.
> Restoration Progress:
Spell 0001/1000 Unlocked: "Chrono Shield"
> My powers got restored… from taking small hits?
A grin crept its way to his lips.
But one of the bystanders noticed his sudden stillness and misinterpreted it.
> "Didn't you hear what Mr. Jenkins said? He owns the inn!"
The man rushed forward and struck Belphegor with his stick.
Something snapped.
Belphegor's eyes burned. In a flash, he raised a hand and—
SLAP.
The sound cracked like thunder.
The man dropped—lifeless.
A heavy silence followed.
Eyes widened. Jaws dropped.
> Did he just slap someone to death?
Panic exploded in the room.
"Get him out! Get him out of here!"
They shoved and screamed until Belphegor, with regal reluctance, walked out of the inn and into the cold evening air.
---
The System spoke.
> "Continue to comply."
Belphegor didn't reply.
But his silence carried a vow:
> I'll play along… for now.
From the shadows, a figure watched him leave, interest gleaming in their eyes.