Around midnight, Merlin's Ford stops downstairs of an investment company in Wall Street.
He opens the car door and sees the logo on the entrance of this luxurious building. It looked like a messy glow shaped by artists into something abstract.
And on that odd logo was the name of the investment company.
"Black Halo Investment Company..."
Merlin silently speaks out the name, he thinks that this name should represent some special meaning, pity he did not understand. Just like how he did not understand the owner of this building and company.
All he knew was that a powerful half-demon named Daimon owns this place.
Earlier when he first came to Manhattan in 1991, there had been a thick demonic atmosphere here, and 4 years later, the demonic presence here had not weakened, and it was getting stronger.
This attitude was like a demon lord that's smuggled into the human world, and this Mr. Daimon had no plans of hiding himself.
4 years ago, Merlin hardly broke a sweat finding the information of this Mr. Daimon.
On the surface, he's an extremely generous investor, willing to invest large amounts of money into any valuable thinking, and is the most generous angel in the hearts of all entrepreneurs in New York.
And because of Mr. Daimon's sharp investment foresight, he could receive large amounts of payback from every investment, so he has an excellent reputation amongst the capitalists of Wall Street.
Merlin tidies his casual gray suit and walks into the investment company with his handbag. On the seat rows company lobby, there were many dreaming entrepreneurs waiting to be summoned by Mr. Daimon at this hour when they should be having dinner.
The pretty female receptionist greets Merlin with a formulated smile, she asks:
"Hello, sir, what can I do for you?"
"I'm here to talk with Mr. Daimon on something."
Merlin puts on an also fake smile and says:
"Something very important."
"May I ask of your name?"
The young girl asks again, to which Merlin replies softly:
"I'm Merlin."
The young girl looks down and starts checking the appointment records for today, and a few minutes later, she tells Merlin:
"I'm sorry, Mr. Merlin. But you did not make an appointment with Mr. Daimon, if you really wish to visit Mr. Daimon, then please leave your information and contact detail, Mr. Daimon will contact you when he has the time."
"No, miss."
Merlin takes something from his pocket and places it in front of the pretty receptionist, saying:
"I have an appointment."
Merlin moves his fingers away, revealing the scorched black badge; the inverted pentagram was flashing oddly after Merlin injected into it some mana, this surprised the female receptionist.
Her expression changed, seemingly assuming that Merlin's toying with her using some kind of item.
And as she prepared to call for security, the pone next to her hand suddenly rang.
The young receptionist places the phone by her ear, and a few seconds later, she puts on a formulated smile once more; she makes a most graceful posture, makes a 'please' hand gesture to Merlin, and says in the sweetest tone:
"Please come with me, Mr. Merlin. Mr. Daimon is waiting for you."
Merlin keeps the badge and nods, and under the jealous gaze of the people looking for investors behind him, he follows the young girl with the perfect body shape into the elevator.
2 minutes later, Merlin arrives on the top floor of the black halo building, the young female receptionist helps Merlin to push open the heavy yet expensive redwood door attentively.
And as the door opened, a presence of dark mana at least 5 times purer than Merlin's dark mana practically comes at him, causing his eyes behind the glasses to illuminate a fluctuating glow.
He presses his glasses, smiles at the young lady next to him, and enters the office before him.
This was a very luxurious office, its size was even larger than Merlin's entire house, but there was very little furniture, which made it look rather open-spaced.
The luxurious red carpet was spread on the floor, the luxurious gold curtains were half-opened, the afterglow of the sunset shone into the office from the window, reflecting a cold glow on the expensive redwood desk.
Behind the desk was a young man.
He looked to be more mature than Merlin, he wore a black suit with neatly-combed black hair, along with a pair of black pupils; he looked to be steady like those actual business tycoons.
As Merlin entered the office, Mr. Daimon seemed to be handling something related to work, he browsed through a document while gesturing for Merlin to take a seat first.
He looked very adapted to his current role, at least from his gesture just now, it was full of a social elite's atmosphere.
Merlin did not interrupt Daimon.
If possible, he did not wish to forge a grudge with the half-demon before him, he even wished not to come in contact with him.
Daimon's strength far exceeded his, this half-demon was the strongest one amongst all the magic-related creatures Merlin had encountered thus far.
Just like a clump of still fire, it may seem calm, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have the ability to scorch the world.
A few minutes later, Daimon picks up his pen and signs his name on the document, he then closes it and places it aside. He then raises his head and looks at Merlin on the sofa.
Confusion flashes in Daimon's eyes as he says to Merlin:
"I just felt your presence, it was so faint I thought I saw wrong. You have truly praise-worthy presence concealing skills. But what I'm more curious of is what business does a Trigon's 'son' have with me?"
The half-demon says straightforwardly:
"Here to give a message on behalf of your father?"
"No."
Merlin shakes his head, he throws the badge in his hand to Daimon; the latter catches it in his hand, and with a glance, he raises his eyebrow.
He stands up, supports his hands on the table, and says to Merlin:
"Where did you find this?"
"Hell's Kitchen, from a group of enchanted thugs."
Merlin says:
"They found an altar from somewhere that could communicate with hell, thankfully they were a bunch of amateurs and only drew a bunch of incorrect runes, otherwise...I would not be the one here looking for you right now."
"I found this badge in that altar."
Merlin lightly coughs, he looks at Daimon and says:
"I work for an organization, this is part of my work, so my presumptuous visit is to ask Mr. Daimon whether or not you have an idea to develop believers in Hell's Kitchen?"
"This isn't my doing."
Daimon places the badge on his hand and places it with his fingers, he walks to the edge of the large floor-to-ceiling window and gazes down at the bustling streets of Manhattan from a hundred meters above.
He waves his hand and a lit cigar appears in front of Merlin, Merlin reaches out and grabs it, also grabbing the goodwill Daimon was handing over.
In the afterglow of the sunset, the silent half-demon turns around and lets the golden glow disperse behind him; he puts both hands behind his back and says calmly:
You are reading story The Path of Shadow in American Comics at novel35.com
"I've become sick of recruiting believers and building cult groups 20 years ago."
"And, Mr. Merlin, I don't know whether or not you have realized this, but the usefulness of money had been amplified indefinitely in this era. In the times before, people would sacrifice it all for either power, dignity, or authority, etc."
"But now, what those teenagers with dreams ask from an existence like me...is just money."
A silly smile appears on Daimon's face, he spreads his arms and says:
"As long as I spill out meaningless cash money, there'll be countless people rushing to do anything I wish for; anything I want would be placed in front of me in the fastest time possible; even souls, money can buy plenty of the most important souls..."
"In this situation, do you think that I would find a group of...mmm, thugs? Do you think that I would find trash like that to become my followers?"
Merlin could not refute Daimon's explanation, in fact, after seeing what power Daimon possessed, Merlin does not think that small-time thugs would be related to someone of his identity.
Yet the badge did have something to do with Daimon.
He could not keep the change of his expression just now from Merlin.
"Then about this badge?"
Merlin asks:
"What's with the badge? The mana presence on it is the same as yours, this can't be faked."
"Mmm, if my guess is correct."
Daimon says with a gloomy expression:
"This should be the work of my dear sister."
He sighs and says softly:
"You may not be able to understand, Mr. Merlin, the story would oftentimes take a turn for the worse when a pair of twin siblings inherit power from their devil father...just like those traditional yet disgusting tragic stories."
"My mother taught me to become someone upright, I could not do so as my dark nature forces me to plunder for souls, but I at least work to suppress myself."
"Unfortunately Satana thinks otherwise. Compared to our gentle mother, she seems to adore our father more. Her chase for dark powers had gone out of control especially after our mother passed. This disappoints me, I walk a different path from her, and unfortunately, my sister seems to believe that I've taken the wrong path and is always trying to pull me back onto the 'right' path."
As the afternoon sunlight disappears, Daimon walks to Merlin. He looks at Merlin and says:
"I thank you for bringing me this badge, this allowed me to know Satana's overture. Return to your human realm, Mr. Merlin, I will have someone handle this."
"Well then, I'll leave this to your hands."
Merlin nods at the somewhat peaceful Daimon and prepares to leave.
To half-demons like himself, it was not reassuring to stay with someone similar but stronger.
Although Daimon was not a Trigon's son, and he had no conflict of interest with Merlin, most half-demons were paranoid and mad; Merlin did not wish to cause any more trouble after things had settled.
But as he takes a few steps forward, Daimon's deep voice suddenly resounds behind him:
"Mr. Merlin, I suddenly forgot, I have yet to reward you for helping me deal with someone troublesome. How impolite of me."
"You killed Morris, right?"
Daimon's question made Merlin stop, he turns around and nods.
There was no change in Daimon's expression as he says:
"Then let me give you some advice, you best hurry up and digest what you got from Morris...I've heard of the tragedies with each of Trigon's sons in every era; if you keep wandering about with it, then it won't be long before you find yourself a hunting target for your mad brothers."
"What do you mean?"
Merlin frowns and asks:
"I've already used the shard."
"No, not use, digest!"
Daimon shakes his head and says:
"People like you and me are born to the darkness, the darkness is our strength. But how can you drive that power if you were never one of them, to begin with?"
"Morris' power is like ice, while you yourself are water; Trigon's power is very peculiar, every bit of power it gives out to its sons have different 'characteristics'."
Daimon with his hands behind his back looks at Merlin and says:
"In my eyes, ice cubes are still in the water, and the two have yet to become one. In other words, Mr. Merlin, you haven't gotten close to the characteristic of that power. I am rather curious...how did a pure-as-paper person like you live so long?"
"Is that so?"
Merlin frowns, Daimon shouldn't be so bored as to joke with him on this, so Merlin begins to reflect on whether or not he had truly assimilated Morris' powers.
A few minutes later, Merlin says softly:
"Although I don't quite get what you mean, Mr. Daimon. But I have to thank you for your reminder, also, I'm curious why a powerful half-demon like yourself would stay in a place like Wall Street?"
"Good question!"
A smile appears on Daimon's face, it was an eerie smile as he says:
"Devils of the past would use contracts and lies to cheat souls into fulfilling their own hells."
"But times are developing and technology progressing, civilization is changing with every passing day; the natural instincts of a devil make me want to see the corruption of the human soul, but I won't use contracts and lies to do so, those are outdated methods...after entering the ever-corrupting human society, I've found a more useful and efficient method."
"And that is money! As I said just now!"
Daimon has an odd smile as he says:
"Those capitalists commend me for having a sharp investment foresight, but what use is money for an existence such as myself? What I yearn for after spilling out money is something much more precious..."
Daimon extends his left hand, howling souls attempt to escape Daimon's fingers, the pale glow emitting from the souls illuminated Daimon's face; he closes his fingers and says in an eerie tone:
"Souls! This is my treasure!"
The strange scene in front of him made Merlin take a step back, he looks at Daimon and says:
"You remind me of someone uncomfortable...Mephisto, are you its offspring? You two have practically the same exact tone."
"Mephisto?"
Daimon pouts and smiles, he stares at Merlin, an inverted pentagram appears in his black pupils as he says:
"No...not that sly bastard."
"My father is called..."
"Satan!"