My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 332: Your lives are mine.

For a moment, an almost complicit silence formed… and was soon swallowed by a wave of muffled laughter, tense whispers and wide-eyed looks. The kind of humor that only appears when fear goes hand in hand with shock.

The demons around began to laugh. Some laughed out loud, others just watched, waiting for the first move — like dogs sniffing out a fight.

Vergil lowered his body slightly, as if he wanted to get a better look at the muscular man's face through the shadow that now covered his expression.

"Things are going to stink for you, you know?" he said in a lower, almost friendly tone, as if giving a sincere warning before the massacre.

His smile was no longer a provocation. It was an omen.

"Is the Princess. Upset.?" he replied Vergil.

In the blink of an eye, Vergil fired a well-aimed punch into the muscular demon's stomach. The blow was so fast and strong that the air emptied from the opponent's lungs, leaving him breathless. Before he could even react, Vergil grabbed the demon's horns, using them as leverage to push him back.

Meanwhile, the brute still didn't understand what was happening. The confusion left him paralyzed when, suddenly, the chain of dark energy that Vergil released hit him full on, pinning him in an uncomfortable position on all fours on the floor.

The other inmates watched the scene with a mixture of astonishment and fear, their eyes fixed on the Fifth King's precise and deadly movements.

Vergil, without wasting time, used his ability with shadows to open a slit in the fat man's ass. A deep and precise cut, without spilling any blood. Then, with superhuman strength, he lifted the muscular demon's head by the horns and, with a violent pull, thrust it forcefully into the newly created opening.

The sound of it being torn and penetrated echoed through the courtyard. A sickening mix of flesh, bone and tissue giving way to brute force. The brute screamed, but the noise was muffled by the muscular demon's rear.

Vergil released his horns and took a step back, admiring his work.

The head was now half inside, half outside the other demon's tail. The bodies twitched and trembled, muffled, agonized screams filling the air. The smell of blood and shit spread throughout the place.

The inmates watched in silence, many closing their eyes or turning their faces away in disgust, but still fascinated by the Fifth King's cruelty and precision.

"I warned you," he said, his voice as calm as cold steel sliding down the throat of a god.

He looked around, staring one by one at the wide-eyed inmates. Some looked away. Others froze, as if the mere exchange of glances could mark them for death.

"Listen up, you sons of bitches," he began, his tone now graver, laden with an authority impossible to ignore. "This place? It has an owner now."

Vergil pointed to the floor of the courtyard, then to himself.

"From now on, you breathe because I allow it. You live under my shadow. And when—when—you are freed, remember who spared you. Remember who crushed kings with his bare hands."

He turned slowly, as if he already knew that none of them would dare touch him.

"You no longer answer to third-rate demons, nor to the bosses of this decrepit hell... You serve the only one who still carries his name with weight."

He stopped at the edge of the courtyard and delivered the final sentence, his voice firm as a death sentence:

"You serve me... and by extension, the only throne that matters: that of the Demon King Lucifer."

…

"He did… what?" — Sapphire's voice cut through the hall like a blade of ice.

Sitting on the throne in the Solar Hall of the Agares Mansion, the matriarch's blue eyes flickered between shock and disbelief. In front of her, kneeling with her usual impeccable posture, Viola was giving her report — or, at least, trying to.

"He…" — Viola took a deep breath, maintaining her usual composure. "He stuck the head of one demon… into the ass of another."

For a second, silence reigned absolute. And then…

Katharina, Ada and Roxanne burst into laughter so loud that the ancient walls of the mansion shook. A centuries-old vase fell from the shelf and shattered on the floor without anyone noticing.

Viviane, who had just crossed the portal with a jug of water, heard only the last part. The timing was perfect. She choked, spat everything out and coughed uncontrollably, trying to understand if she had heard correctly or if she was in a post-battle delirium.

Morgana, with quick reflexes, covered the ears of little Alice, who was innocently chewing cookies on the couch.

"Honey, this part of hellish politics… you'll only learn when you grow up."

Sepphirothy, standing near the window with her eternally serene expression, stared at Viola. There was only one question hanging in the air, floating between absurdity and morbid curiosity:

"…The guy who had his ass pierced by a head… is he alive?"

The room was silent for a moment.

And then, something happened that no one had ever witnessed.

Viola laughed.

It began as a held sigh — then the sound escaped, soft, in disbelief. A restrained "heh"… and then, like a dam breaking:

"PFFF— AHAHAHAHAHA!"

Even Sapphire's eyes widened in surprise. This was Viola—the stoic, implacable, unflappable maid of the crown—laughing as if she'd heard the best joke in the multiverse.

"Yes," she managed to say between laughs, tears forming in her eyes. "The wretch is alive… But Lord Vergil ordered that the… rear entrance not be healed."

She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure, but failed miserably.

"He will live… broken… until he is freed." She burst into laughter again, laughing so hard this time that she had to lean against the floor.

The hall erupted into pandemonium.

Even the ancient portraits on the walls seemed to be judging them.

Sapphire rubbed her temples with a long sigh.

"Vergil… my dear husband…" she murmured, half shocked, half… proud? "You never disappoint."