The Devil Known for His Wickedness and Curse Among People The mere mention of his name brings forth a hundred curses. But what if a man was given the title of the Devil? Or worse-what if he embodied the very essence of one? A man whose sheer strength and mercilessness instilled terror in the hearts of his enemies, whose cold-blooded nature left no room for hesitation in taking lives. A name that, when spoken, summoned dark thoughts and restless whispers. But what if this devil fell in love-with an angel? For even devils can love. And even angels can fall for the devil. Our sins do not make us demons... And our innocence does not make us saints. "They say the devil does not love. But if he does... he will burn everything in his wake." "Here lies my heart-look deeper into it. Do not be deceived by appearances; behind this cold, arrogant mask lies a lonely, frightened, helpless child. Heal my brokenness with your love." "Perhaps I am the bad influence your mother warned you to stay away from... Perhaps I am the blazing fire others keep their distance from, fearing they might get burned... Perhaps I am one of those for whom laws were written-only to punish them... I am the devil who constantly tempts you toward sin. Will you still love me then?" "And even if I were nothing but a lifeless corpse in this world... I would still love you."
Chapter 1 I Want Ten Girls Today
He stood firmly, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, his brows furrowed, exhaling sharply in frustration. His men stood around him, heads bowed in fear of the figure before them. His gaze was distant, fixed on the steep valleys below from the peak of a mountain in the countryside of London.
Dante's Thoughts: These fools... I told them I wanted ten girls delivered to the buyer today, yet they are late... That idiot, Paul-when he returns with them, I'll make sure he learns his lesson.
He then called out, his voice thundering through the air:
"Jack! Call Paul immediately and tell him he'll pay dearly for this delay. He must hurry and capture the girls-I don't want to keep the buyer waiting. Tell him he has until midnight, no more!"
Falling silent, he returned to his thoughts.
Jack, not daring to waste a second, rushed to obey his master's order. He would never risk his life by hesitating.
(Paul Smith: Dante's partner and longtime friend. They trust each other implicitly and share many traits, though Paul has a calmer demeanor at times.)
As Jack dialed Paul's number, the latter exhaled impatiently when he saw the name flashing on his screen. His face was taut-he already knew why Dante had ordered the call.
Paul answered curtly, and as soon as Jack heard his voice, he let out a quiet breath of relief before relaying his master's message.
Paul, however, replied indifferently, "Tell your master that I've secured nine girls. One remains. I'll find a beautiful one to complete the count. Until midnight, I don't want to hear from you or him. Goodbye."
Then, without another word, he ended the call.
Jack froze, his tongue tied in fear. How am I supposed to deliver this message to Dante? He knew all too well how Dante's rage could escalate-to the point of killing without the slightest hesitation.
He turned back toward Dante, his head lowered. Clearing his throat nervously, he waited for his master's command. Dante, without turning, spoke with detached indifference:
"Say what you have to say."
Jack swallowed hard and stammered, "S-Sir... Mr. Paul says he is one girl short, and-"
Dante cut him off with a furious growl, "And what, exactly? Damn it!"
Jack forced himself to continue despite the lump of fear in his throat. "He also said not to contact him until midnight."
Dante's laughter rang out, loud and sharp, echoing in the open air. Amusement danced in his eyes as he murmured to himself, "That bastard... He knows I'm furious, so he says this just to fuel my anger even more... Fine, Paul. Midnight it is. But if you fail, this will be the last day of your life."
His smirk lingered as he turned toward his armored black SUV. Without a word, he climbed inside. Two other vehicles flanked his-the one in front clearing his path, the one behind ensuring no one followed. They drove toward his headquarters, a hidden estate deep in the woods, far from the city. A perfect location to conduct business smoothly, without interference.
Upon arrival, Dante stepped out of his vehicle with his usual unwavering poise. His men immediately swung open the door of what appeared to be a modest wooden cabin. But appearances were deceiving.
Dante entered, a smirk curving his lips, though his eyes remained as cold as ever. He checked his expensive wristwatch-it was nearing eleven.
Deciding to freshen up before the shipment arrived, he made his way to the study. Pressing a hidden button on one of the bookshelves, a heavy iron door slid open.
He placed his finger on the biometric scanner, unlocking an elevator. Stepping inside, he pressed the number 4. The doors slid open moments later, revealing his men stationed at attention.
He addressed one of them, "Send Nancy to me."
(Nancy: A 35-year-old woman who was homeless until the age of seventeen, when Dante took her in. She became one of his most trusted subordinates, responsible for preparing the girls for sale and teaching them how to serve their new masters. Ruthless and unyielding, she followed Dante's methods without question-no girl dared to defy her.)
Without another word, Dante strode to his room. He shed his jacket and stepped toward his impeccably organized wardrobe-his suits, shoes, and watches aligned with meticulous precision. To his right, another door led to his private bathroom.
He entered, took a quick shower, then stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, another draped over his shoulders. As he ran the towel through his damp hair, a knock sounded at the door. He already knew who it was.
"Enter," he said.
Nancy stepped inside, her head bowed respectfully. She stood still, waiting for his command.
Dante retrieved a black suit from his wardrobe, pairing it with a matching shirt. He left the top two buttons undone, applied a subtle touch of cologne, and slicked back his hair before stepping out of the room.
Nancy followed him silently into his office. Once inside, he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at her with an air of cold authority. His tone was calm, deliberate-but there was no need to repeat himself. His words were law.
"At exactly midnight, Paul will arrive with ten girls. Take them to the preparation floor. You and your slaves will have one hour to ready them for sale. I want no delays. Understood?"
Nancy straightened, her voice firm. "Yes, sir. Understood. It will be done immediately."
Dante gave a dismissive nod, and she withdrew without hesitation, heading to carry out his orders.
---
Elsewhere...
Paul sat in his car, silent, his jaw clenched. He leaned against the door, smoking a cigarette, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Meanwhile, his men were loading the unconscious girls into a small, enclosed truck.
One of his subordinates approached, standing by his window with his head lowered.
"Sir, the ten girls have been sedated and secured in the truck. We await your command."
Paul didn't even glance at him as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Head to the headquarters. Dante will inspect them before the sale."
Then, without another word, he started the engine and drove off.
The truck carrying the girls followed closely behind.
An hour later, they arrived at Dante's estate, where his and Paul's men were already gathered. The process began immediately-one by one, the girls were carried inside, where Nancy awaited to prepare them for their fates.