Apocalypse: I Have A Multiplier System - Chapter 250

Chapter 250: Chapter 250: Devil

The vast, rundown castle-like chamber seemed to echo with a silence that carried a weight of impending doom.

The dimly lit room was cold, the air thick with tension, as seven figures stood in a line before the imposing figure seated on the throne.

Draped in a black cloak, the person on the throne—known only as “Devil”—radiated an aura so oppressive that none of the seven dared to raise their heads.

Even the flickering torches on the walls seemed to bow in deference to his presence.

HQ stood at the back of the line, his eyes nervously darting to his phone, which had remained frustratingly silent for weeks.

His jaw clenched, and a frown marred his features as he dialed once more, the call echoing into nothingness.

For what felt like the hundredth time, there was no answer.

His heart raced.

Were his subordinates rebelling?

Ignoring his direct orders?

Gritting his teeth, he cast a brief glance toward the throne, where Devil sat, shrouded in complete darkness.

It was almost his turn to report, and he had nothing to offer but uncertainty and failure.

The line moved, and HQ’s pulse quickened. His legs felt heavy, his palms slick with sweat. Finally, it was his turn.

He stepped forward, bowing deeply before the cloaked figure.

The shadows that clung to the Devil seemed almost alive, writhing and swirling like smoke. HQ opened his mouth, his voice trembling.

“My lord… Devil… I… I have been unable to contact headquarters for the past few weeks.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

HQ could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as the weight of Devil’s gaze, though unseen, bore down upon him.

The room seemed to grow colder, darker, as if the very shadows were listening.

“Why?” The single word from the Devil’s lips was soft but deadly, like the hiss of a blade being drawn from its sheath.

HQ swallowed hard.

“I… I do not know, my lord. I’ve called repeatedly, but no one answers. Their life collars still show that they’re alive, but when I attempted to control them… there was no response. It’s as if—”

He didn’t finish his sentence. He dared not.

There was a slow, deliberate movement from the Devil.

His hand rose from beneath the cloak, the pale fingers stark against the dark fabric, and HQ hurriedly offered up the phone with trembling hands.

Devil took the device, holding it with an eerie stillness.

The room seemed to hold its breath as seconds ticked by, each one feeling like a lifetime to HQ.

“S-sorry, Devil… please… forgive me.”

The darkness seemed to thicken as Devil’s gaze lingered on HQ, his expression hidden beneath the hood.

HQ felt the icy grip of terror tightening around his heart. He had failed, and failure before the Devil was an unforgivable sin.

“You have made a grave mistake,” Devil said slowly, his voice carrying the weight of judgment.

HQ’s breath caught in his throat.

He could feel tears welling up, his vision blurring as he frantically pleaded for mercy.

“Please, my lord! Give me another chance! I… I will find them! I swear on my life, I will—”

Devil was silent for a moment, the pause agonizing.

Then, finally, he spoke, each word carefully measured.

“I will give you one last chance, HQ.”

The relief was immediate, but fleeting, as Devil continued.

“If you do not find out why your subordinates vanished into thin air…” Devil’s voice dropped as if the shadows themselves whispered the threat, “…I will kill you.”

HQ’s body trembled violently, and he pressed his forehead to the ground.

“Thank you, Devil. Thank you. I swear, I will not fail you again.”

There was no response from Devil, only a slight motion of his hand, dismissing HQ.

HQ scrambled to his feet, keeping his head low as he hurriedly exited the room.

His heart was still hammering in his chest as he passed the other six, their faces blank but their eyes filled with cold judgment.

As the heavy doors of the throne room closed behind him, HQ knew one thing for certain: his next move would determine whether he lived or died.

The next second he took out a scroll-like thing and tore it.

The moment HQ appeared in the institute, the silence was deafening. The once-bustling place, filled with soldiers and operatives, was now eerily quiet.

As HQ ventured deeper into the institute, he found what he feared the most.

The bodies of soldiers lay sprawled on the ground.

They were positioned in unnatural angles, sprawled out as if they’d all fallen at once, their expressions frozen in eerie resignation.

It was a gruesome sight—each soldier appeared to have taken their own life.

Their weapons lay beside them, their faces pale, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Someone had infiltrated the institute and, using the controller, forced these soldiers into a death trap.

It was the only explanation that made sense.

A sudden, unprovoked massacre. He clenched his fists, the pressure mounting as his anger surged.

Whoever had done this would pay.

With an exhale, HQ closed his eyes, trying to steady himself.

When he opened his eyes again, they had changed.

The once-brown irises were now a glowing red, a fierce, almost unnatural light pulsing from deep within.

A wave of energy surged from his eyes as the glow spread outward, illuminating the space around him.

Red energy flared from his eyes as he activated his scanning ability.

Time seemed to slow, the world around him distorting as he focused on the energy left behind by the tragic event.

The ground under his feet shifted, and the space around him warped, revealing a series of images, fragments of the past.

The scene unfolded like a twisted memory, replaying the tragic moments that led to the soldiers’ deaths.

The images began to form clearly in front of him: the soldiers, standing in the hall, their faces drawn in confusion and fear. And then, the figures who had orchestrated it—the culprits.

There, in the center of the replay, was a blue cat.