The storm had cald, but the rain hadn’t stopped.
The streets were empty, and the atmosphere was morose.
It was around 4 PM when the first explosion was heard.
A grenade was thrown into a packed bar.
Those who survived were gunned down by the n storming in.
Similar attacks were carried out across the city simultaneously.
Bullets flew through the air, wheezing past the buzzing flies.
With a little spark, gasoline erupted an entire house in flas.
C4 blew a large hole in a building, leaving the survivors too dazed to defend themselves.
Corpses fell as if it were the judgnt day.
Pieces of skin were blown away. Bones were pulverized. Organs lted, and blood evaporated.
The retaliation did not take long.
One by one, while searching for Lucifer, snipers shot down high-ranking targets.
Healthy n were no more because of pieces of tal finding their skulls from 900 ters away.
Trained fighters rushed out from their hiding spots, ambushing even the most cautious of n.
Cars were spiked. Windshields were shattered. And fuel tanks were lit.
Shotguns clashed against automatic rifles, and pistols shot at revolvers.
Traps were set, and petrol bombs were thrown.
re hours afters the start of the deadly clash, one-tenth of the city was engulfed in flas.
It was a surreal view.
Constructs of n burned brilliantly against the dark skies as the heavens shed tears to douse the fires. But the endeavor was futile.
In the streets, parks, and alleyways, rivers of blood flowed.
There was gunfire coming from every direction. The innocents cowered while the insurgents fought.
There was no escape for anyone. There was no place for regret.
In the flas, there was no one left untouched.
The war—dubbed as the Binsfeld Conflict by the authorities—was so intense that the police’s first response was to cordon off the entire city.
No one was allowed in, and no one could leave.
They knew better than to interfere while a conflict of such a massive scale was taking place.
They were ill-equipped to deal with such a situation. The best they could do was limit its reach and protect the rest of the country from falling into Hell.
They couldn’t even hope to rescue the innocents stuck inside. They had to be abandoned as the police retreated from the city.
Would they dare to venture where thousands of Binsfeld family mbers were actively engaged in warfare?
Modern firearms and explosives were involved. Machine guns attached to armored cars were reducing houses to rubble.
Tens of thousands of rounds were fired, and thousands more would follow.
With such strength, they could have easily executed the police, toppled the local governnt, and taken over the city.
Just that illogical thought scared them.
From a distance, Detective Roy and Policeman Butler watched as the war intensified and hundreds of lives were lost.
While concealing themselves from the snipers, Lucifer and Beelzebub had gained significant ground on the trio, who hadn’t yet stepped out from Satan’s mansion.
Detective Roy was in thought.
How had they not seen this coming? Why were there no reports of such a large force gathering?
Horizontally parked in front of him were half a dozen police cars blocking the road out of the city.
Behind him were news reporters passionately reporting on the conflict.
It was the second-largest gang war in Asia and the largest ever in the country.
It was an unprecedented conflict that seed to have escalated out of nowhere. It had the nation’s attention, and it would be recorded in history.
So of the reporters hadn’t given up on sneaking past the police to have a closer look. So even wanted to interview the family mbers.
They were being watched and scrutinized by the policen.
"Can I ask you sothing?" Detective Roy asked Policeman Butler. "What is your involvent in all this?"
Butler slowly turned to him.
"Oh yes, I know." Detective Roy feebly nodded his head. "I knew sothing was odd with you when you referred to a drifting woman and Asmodeus Binsfeld as ’endless rain.’"
"You were watching."
Indeed, he was sowhat aware of Butler’s corruption.
"You will be hearing from the board of internal investigations."
"Please don’t defile my na."
"You did that yourself. Or are you denying my accusations?"
"Do you have any proof to support those accusations, Detective?"
That was Detective Roy’s concern. There was no concrete evidence, and the burning city felt like Butler’s way of getting rid of the witnesses.
As Policeman Butler was walking away, the detective asked a question:
"Don’t you need their money?"
His steps ca to a halt.
"...Not anymore." His back, facing the detective, hid his sorrow. "There are no more hospital bills to pay."
Watching him walk away, the detective looked conflicted. It was evident that the police were part of the problem.
"Terrible n call this city ho."
The scene changed.
While the streets were littered with corpses, one of the brothels on the outskirts of the city was being treated as a safe place for the ladies of the night.
This is where the mistresses of Asmodeus’s brothels were gathered.
Sitting around a room, they were discussing matters of grave importance over biscuits and tea.
"He isn’t picking up my calls."
"Mine neither."
"Do you think he is out there—participating in the war?"
"I don’t know. He likes to stay neutral."
"If he were to take part, would he support Satan or Lucifer?"
"Lucifer, no doubt."
"Yeah, he hates Satan."
While they were wondering about Asmodeus’s whereabouts, so of the others were looking for the missing prostitute he had left in their care.
"Yes... I see."
Bella put down her phone.
"No sign of her anywhere."
"We can’t even look for her thoroughly with what’s happening. Where could she have gone?"
"Do you think both of them could be together?"
"That’d make sense. She likes him a lot."
At that mont, Bella received another call.
Thinking it could be to update her on the situation, she picked up without looking at the caller number.
"Hello—"
The voice on the other side was frantic.
"They killed him, Bella. They brutally murdered him!"
"What—"
"I thought I should go see him since he wasn’t picking up our calls. But, but—"
It was one of the mistresses most loyal to Asmodeus—the daughter of a prostitute who had raised him.
"Breathe before you speak."
"Oh, no! No—no! They killed him. And the poor girl, too. There’s blood everywhere."
She scread in terror, spouting about dead bodies everywhere.
"Look what they did to his face."
With shaky hands, Bella cut off the call.
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