My Wives are Beautiful Demons - Chapter 282

Chapter 282: A message
The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, absurdly contrasting with what the three were about to witness.

The hotel lobby was bathed in a reddish gloom, as if the lights themselves had been soaked in blood. An unnatural silence reigned, broken only by the sound of Vergil’s footsteps echoing against the polished marble… until then.

The smell came first — iron, rot, and bile, mixed into a nauseating cocktail. Kaguya covered her mouth with both hands, stumbling backward before even—

Sapphire, eyes wide with curiosity, commented casually, “This… is really the work of an amateur, right?” She was completely indifferent to the deaths around her.

Vergil narrowed his eyes, analyzing the surroundings.

The reception had turned into a slaughterhouse.

The receptionist’s body was pinned to the wall with black rods made of a viscous, oily substance. It still trembled slightly, as if the nerves were refusing to die. His entrails were hanging out like red ribbons, and his face wore a grotesque smile, forcibly stretched with clamps tearing the flesh from his cheeks all the way to his ears.

Blood dripped from the ceiling like a slow rain, splashing onto the luxurious carpets now soaked and dark. One of the chandeliers had been repurposed to hang three guests, their heads swollen and purple, tongues dangling like dead snakes.

“He’s such an idiot… I mean, why send a message by killing people we don’t even care about?” Sapphire said, barely hiding a smile. She really couldn’t care less.

Those people belonged to Alucard, not her. They could all rot. She only cared about two people in this world: her daughter and her husband. The rest? Just background noise.

The bar, once a cozy retreat with soft lights and smooth jazz, had become an altar of carnage. Wine bottles had been opened and spilled across the floor, mixing with real blood in a crimson ocean. The bodies of the bartenders were arranged in a circle, like they were partaking in a final supper. Some had utensils stabbed into their eyes. Others, broken bottles shoved into their ears.

Kaguya couldn’t take it.

She dropped to her knees and vomited, choking and trembling like a leaf. “This… this is… this is…!”

Vergil knelt beside her, a steady hand on her shoulder, his eyes scanning the room. He said nothing, but his hardened expression said it all: he had seen horrors before… but this was something else.

The elevator they had just exited dinged again behind them, as if mocking the trio. Another ding. No soul. No presence.

With every step through the hall, more corpses came into view — hanging like grotesque ornaments, impaled on black, claw-like spikes that had seemingly erupted from the floor. A couple sat in the middle of the corridor, locked in a final embrace. But their chests were ripped open, and their hearts had been swapped, still faintly beating in the wrong bodies.

Symbols painted in blood covered the walls — eyes, mouths, horns, spirals — all converging on a grotesque signature sprawled across the ceiling, written in entrails.

“Awaken. Dinner Has Begun.”

“What a lack of creativity,” Vergil muttered, his voice calm now. “This was the work of a fool trying to scare us… Honestly, it’s kind of funny.” He couldn’t help but smile.

Sapphire pointed toward the staircase, where trails of blood led to the upper floor. At the top of the banister, the head of the hotel’s head maid was mounted like a trophy. Her eyes were wide open, staring directly at the trio, as if she had been waiting for them.

“…Dragamir,” Kaguya whispered, her voice trembling. “This has to be him…”

Vergil nodded slowly. “He must’ve figured out we’re here. No survivors. Just a message — he wants us to stay out of it…” Vergil said with a shrug. “Not like we don’t have a deal with Alucard anyway.”

“Pull up the camera map. I want to see what happened here,” Sapphire ordered Kaguya.

She quickly made her way to the reception desk and retrieved a tablet, returning in haste. But when she powered it on, the system froze. The security camera footage began to loop — not of the massacre, but of a figure. A man in a crimson suit, pale skin, and eyes like black voids, walking through the empty lobby. In every frame, he stared directly into the camera.

In one video, he raised a wine glass — filled with blood — and toasted the screen with a cold, mirthless smile.

“What a clown…” Sapphire muttered, glancing around. “He looks like one of those movie villains desperate to show off… pathetic.”

In the background of the footage, the curtains in the lobby fluttered in a breeze that didn’t exist. The blood on the floor began to bubble faintly, as if it were alive. Then, a laugh echoed. Soft, almost polite… but laced with inhuman malice.

“Welcome. Enjoy the décor, and please… don’t meddle in my affairs with Alucard.”He spoke, and then vanished.

“Half-assed,” Vergil said flatly.

“Low budget,” Sapphire replied, laughing.

Vergil stared at the frozen frame on the screen — the image of Dragamir raising his glass with that smug, knowing grin — as if time itself had slowed just to taunt him.

Then he scoffed. “Pathetic.” He turned slowly, eyes locking on the blood-streaked staircase. “I’m going up. Time to end this farce.”

Kaguya stood, still pale, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Wait, you’re going up now? Alone?”

Vergil cracked his neck, the muscles in his shoulder relaxing as a faint blue aura began to emanate from him like mist on a cold night. “I’m not giving this circus another second. That worm thinks he scares people with hanging corpses? Let’s see if he’s still smiling when his body’s hanging.”

He began walking, but Sapphire leaned back against one of the lobby’s marble columns, arms crossed, her high heels nearly slipping on the congealed blood beneath her feet.

“Go on ahead. I’m staying down here.”

“Hm?” Vergil paused, glancing back with mild curiosity.

“My powers are still sealed, remember?” she said, holding up the tablet like a useless prop. “This thing isn’t even good for a flashlight. Besides…”

She smiled wickedly. “I want to see how far you get without my help. It’s not every day I get to watch my husband break bones and rip heads off in style.”

Vergil raised an eyebrow. “So you’re letting me walk into a den of ancient horrors and possibly a horde of monsters alone… just because you want to see me ‘grow stronger’?”

“Exactly,” she answered with a theatrical nod. “And let’s be honest — you love it. I know you better than anyone, Vergil.”

Kaguya looked between them like she was witnessing two romantic psychopaths. “You two are insane…”

Sapphire just laughed, dabbing a drop of blood off her cheek with a lace handkerchief embroidered with her name. “You forget something, maid… we are disasters. Chaos is our routine.”

Vergil sighed, almost amused, and slipped off his coat, tossing it over one of the blood-soaked chairs like he was about to start a casual training session.

“All right. But if that idiot has some magical trap or a hidden monster the size of a bus, I’m coming back and dragging you with me.”

“Deal,” she said, sitting like a queen on a throne of death. “But only if it’s something actually interesting. If it’s just another freak trying to sound smart, it’s not even worth the effort.”

Vergil walked toward the staircase slowly, each step echoing like a challenge in the silent, foul-smelling air.

Elsewhere…

The room was vast, adorned with Victorian antiques, black curtains swaying in a wind that came from nowhere, and a chandelier made entirely of human bones hanging from the ceiling. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of dried blood, old velvet… and contempt.

Dragamir stood by a tall window overlooking the city. His reflection did not appear in the glass, but the shadow of his silhouette stretched across the room, pulsing faintly, as if alive and restless.

He wore a dark wine-red three-piece suit, as if dyed in real blood. In his hand, a black crystal goblet, slowly swirling the thick, crimson contents inside.

“You’re late, mutt,” he said, not even glancing back.

“And you stink of arrogance and cheap wine,” the man replied, entering, his claws still slick with fresh flesh. “This place is disgusting, even by your standards.”

Dragamir smiled, still not turning around.

“I’m glad you feel at home. They say your kind enjoys running through carcasses.”

The man growled, teeth bared, but held himself back — barely. He stepped into the center of the room, his boots hitting the floor like funeral drums.

“Specter doesn’t like being dragged into theatrics. You know that,” he said, scanning the room with open disdain. “Especially not by a parasite like you.”

“And yet, here you are.” Dragamir finally turned, his eyes twin voids that shimmered with malice. “Do you know why? Because you need me. Because Specter needs me. And that…” he raised the goblet in a mocking toast, “…is delicious.”

“Specter needs results. So far, you’ve delivered nothing but corpses and childish messages. You’re wasting the superiors’ time,” he said, crossing his arms, the veins on them glowing faintly with energy. “They want to know: when will you deliver the Excalibur fragment?”

Dragamir laughed — a sound that wasn’t human. It was cracked, dry, somewhere between laughter and a predator’s scream before the kill.

“When Alucard is dead,” he said.

“Alucard already took the bait,” Dragamir added. “Just wait… the plan is about to begin.”