Marvel: My Sign-in System-Chapter 302 - 293

The Seven Demon Kings of Hell embody humanity's original negative sins and serve as the prototypes of the seven deadly sins.

They are:

Lucifer, the sin of pride. Leviathan, the sin of envy. Samael, the sin of rage. Belphegor, the sin of sloth. Mammon, the sin of greed. Beelzebub, the sin of gluttony. Asmodeus, the sin of lust.

In addition, there exist other powerful demon lords such as Marduk and Satanish.

Among them, Lucifer, as a fallen angel, has resided in Hell for billions of years and is undoubtedly one of the most terrifying Demon Kings. His reputation in Hell rivals that of Mephisto.

These powerful demon lords divide and rule Hell.

...

"Hell... Hell is really big." Lomon Losov muttered helplessly.

Alexei, unfazed, grinned with excitement. "Haha, my friend, isn't that the fun part? We should make a name for ourselves in Hell!"

"We will be remembered and praised!"

Since participating in the Asgardian incident, Alexei had a realization—competing with Captain America for the title of "superhero" had been a sign of limited ambition. If he truly wanted to be remembered by the world, he needed to challenge legends recorded in ancient history and mythology.

To battle 753 powerful evils, break into Hell, dance with demons, fight, and forge his own legend with his giant axe—through the blood and corpses of his enemies.

Two of them could already be compared to the warriors of Asgard... The main theme here was passion and glory.

Sitting nearby, Yelena rolled her eyes at her old father. The others exchanged silent glances, choosing not to say anything—otherwise, the old man might ramble for hours.

Natasha, the ever-practical one, shot down Alexei's ambitions with a cold, decisive voice.

"We've only just entered Hell. Until we gain enough strength, we need to remain cautious. Don't forget, we barely stood a chance against Surtur in our last battle."

"We haven't even reached sub-Heavenly Father level, let alone the rank of a true Heavenly Father Demon King."

"If we make too much noise, we might attract unwanted attention—which goes against our original mission."

Alexei, caught in Natasha's sharp gaze, immediately backed down. He rubbed his head and muttered to himself.

As much as he disliked it, everyone had already accepted Natasha as their leader. In truth, Alexei had always harbored a certain fear of Natasha—perhaps out of guilt, or perhaps due to his own lack of strength.

After all, in every sparring match, Natasha never held back.

She fought with ruthless precision.

Alexei had been beaten down countless times.

How does one break a battle-hardened warrior? Natasha, trained in the Red Room, knew exactly how.

"There are sixteen of us here. If we want to defeat a hundred opponents of the same level or stronger, that's sixteen hundred in total," Sergei clicked his tongue.

"Doesn't matter. Aren't those guys killing each other anyway?" Pietro stretched, resting his hands behind his head, looking indifferent.

But everyone knew the truth—Pietro, despite his carefree and arrogant demeanor, was actually extremely cautious in battle. The moment he engaged an enemy, he showed no mercy.

And not just him—all of them were like that.

This fighting mentality was entirely shaped by Leon's influence.

Arrogance? It didn't exist in their world. Kill first—only then was it time for pride.

...

"Pietro, don't get ahead of yourself. This is Hell," Ivan teased, rolling up his sleeves to stretch his muscular arms.

"Haha, Ivan, don't be so harsh. Even if Pietro can't win, with his speed, running away should be easy, right?"

"Run? Him? Nah—he'd just scream in terror the moment he met a real monster."

"This reminds me of when we fought in the Ural Mountains. Pietro was always the first to scream!"

"What was his old nickname again? Oh yeah—Skinny Monkey!"

"Hahahahaha!"

Ivan, Yegor, Mikhail, Nitaki, Gennady, and the rest—friends who had grown up together—ganged up on Pietro with collective mockery.

After all, they had trained together, suffered together, and knew all of each other's childhood embarrassments.

Back then, among everyone except Pushkin and Alina, Pietro had been the smallest.

When Boss Leon taught them all breathing techniques, Pietro was always the first to cry out in pain during high-intensity training.

And in two-on-one sparring matches? Pietro was the one getting hammered every time.

For a while, he had been at the absolute bottom of the food chain within Leon's group.

Of course, once Pietro mastered his high-speed movement, none of them could keep up anymore.

That didn't stop them from teasing him now.

But Pietro wasn't fazed. He was used to it.

He simply smirked and said, "We'll have plenty of chances to settle this in the future. Let's see who the real crybaby is."

Silence.

The whole group suddenly shut up.

Casually sipping their drinks, they acted as if the teasing hadn't just happened.

Because at the end of the day, mocking Pietro wasn't free.

In terms of raw combat power, Pietro had been catching up fast—and his speed made him a nightmare to deal with.

Originally, their Haki training had made them evenly matched. Everyone had different strengths, and in a real fight, they could go at it for three days straight without a winner.

But Pietro?

His speed had pushed him to a whole new level.

Even if someone could predict his attacks with advanced Observation Haki, reacting to them was an entirely different challenge. Knowing what's coming doesn't mean your body can keep up.

And it wasn't just his movement speed.

His attack speed was just as monstrous.

Seeing the others fall silent, Pietro snorted, exhaling sharply through his nose.

Looking at them with mocking disdain, he thought to himself—

"A bunch of weaklings... Do they still think I'm the same as before?"