If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them

The laws of Hell yearned to answer Anbaixiu's plan. Chaos was good. This was Hell, after all, the place where sinners were punished. As the saying went, there was no harm without comparison. Next to the future Anbaixiu painted, Zariel's current rule was far too primitive, far too gentle. All it ever amounted to was fighting, fighting, and more fighting, with the occasional bout of torture thrown in at best. It paled in comparison to Anbaixiu's variety of soul-crushing torment that struck directly at the heart. The entire First Layer of Hell was practically thrumming with excitement over this mad future, eager to hasten the arrival of such an era. Every single devil would be forced to become a slave to wealth, utterly incapable of parting with their magic mirror. Expending wealth would allow them to gain power with ease, far simpler than toiling through strenuous training. The devils would sink deeper into corruption, only to find themselves trapped in an endless grind where no matter how hard they worked, they could never match someone who simply paid to win. Effort would lose all meaning, leaving behind nothing but desperate rat races. That was precisely what was needed. Only this could truly be called Hell! Zariel's expression turned grim. Although her authority was bestowed by the Lord of Hell and had never truly belonged to her, the laws of Hell were showing an unsettling eagerness to embrace Anbaixiu's design. Zariel had never encountered anything like this before. Had she not exerted all her will to suppress the power of the First Layer of Hell, the laws might have already descended upon Anbaixiu, directly crowning him a hell lord and elevating him from a mortal into an entity possessing quasi-deity power. *That damned lunatic! How could he come up with such a terrifying scheme?!* A headache throbbed behind Zariel's temples. Her instinct urged her to reject this deranged proposal, yet she could not. Hell itself had already acknowledged Anbaixiu's "wickedness." Zariel was not the true Lord of Hell; her bestowed authority was not absolute, and she could not openly defy Hell's will. The only thing within her power was to withhold the "reward" that should have been granted to Anbaixiu. Anbaixiu remained completely oblivious. No matter how extraordinary his current state was, he was still fundamentally a mortal, unable to perceive the shifting undercurrents within Hell's laws. Had he known, he might have added that the lemures peddling the magic mirrors operated on a pyramid scheme, earning kickbacks whenever they recruited a new user to take out a loan. Wasn't it just finding new ways to torture people? In his past life, Anbaixiu had seen more than enough of such tactics. Seeing the flicker of emotion across Zariel's face, he asked in confusion, "What, do you not care for this approach? It can amass tremendous wealth for us, enough to rival Mammon. Otherwise, when it comes to high-end clientele, we truly have no hope of competing with him." Mammon was no mere paper billionaire of Hell. He was a genuine, established infernal noble who had once been the son-in-law to the Lord of Hell. Every lord across the layers shared some ties with him. Whether they loved or hated him, a single word from Mammon was enough to make those lords seriously consider investing. On that front, Zariel fell woefully short. She was utterly inept at managing personal connections. She had even suffered a mutiny by her own subordinates and ended up captured and imprisoned by Bel—and rumor had it that her captivity had been exceptionally cruel. Because of Hell's reaction, the allure of that wealth had diminished considerably for Zariel, which instead allowed the Archduke of Hell to cool down. She countered, "After all your grand talk, this system remains entirely under your control. What does any of it have to do with me?" Anbaixiu was slightly taken aback. When had Zariel grown so sharp? With such an astronomical fortune dangling before her eyes, she had still managed to catch that subtle caveat. But he had come prepared. He said to her, "You don't seriously think soul coins are of any use to me, do you? I'm not a devil. The figures on paper will ultimately end up in your hands. If you don't want them, Mammon and Tiamat will happily divide them between themselves. "Archduke Zariel, presenting this plan to you first was meant as a demonstration of my sincerity." Soul coins truly held little meaning for Anbaixiu. He could not burn them to enhance his power. Perhaps they could serve as currency, but in the end, they were merely material possessions. Having been reborn, Anbaixiu felt he ought to focus on his own growth rather than simply amassing wealth. This time, he needed to learn how to spend money—how to spend fortunes to break free of the countless shackles from his past. By ostensibly "gifting" this massive fortune to Zariel, he could exchange it for practical benefits from the Archduke of Hell. It was just a string of digits in a ledger anyway, with very few actual soul coins backing it up. Zariel knew nothing about modern finance, so Anbaixiu was confident he could reap enormous rewards with zero capital investment. Anbaixiu looked at Zariel expectantly, hoping the Archduke of Hell would succumb to the temptation. Yet Zariel merely wore a detached expression. "Forget it. Believe whatever you like; I'm not in the mood to discuss this right now." This time, Anbaixiu was genuinely stunned. Where had things gone wrong? There shouldn't have been any flaw in his plan. Wasn't this a clear win-win? He hadn't even named his terms yet! Left with no other choice, Anbaixiu said, "If that's the case, I suppose I can only discuss it with Mammon and Tiamat. I'm certain they will support my proposal." Zariel's brow furrowed tightly as she threatened, "You dare?! You already promised this would be a gift for me!" Anbaixiu grew even more bewildered. What was wrong with this fallen angel? Could she have emotionally volatile cycles like a mortal woman? Why was she so impossible to please? He no longer possessed the endless patience he had during his days as an undead. He bluntly told her, "I came with full sincerity, but since you have no need for my gift, it is only fair that I take it back and present it to someone else. What exactly do you want? Let's just be straightforward." Resentment burned in Zariel's heart, but she truly held no leverage over Anbaixiu. After a long hesitation, she said coldly, "Why would I refuse something you're giving me? It's just that everything you described ultimately remains in your hands. I need to see actual control, not just empty promises." *If you can't beat them, join them.* Since Hell had endorsed the future Anbaixiu envisioned, she might as well claim the credit for herself. Anbaixiu chuckled, thinking how simple the issue turned out to be. He had anticipated this all along. "If that's what worries you, we can simply sign a contract. However chaotic and cruel Hell may be, I genuinely admire your respect for contracts. We can draft a detailed agreement granting you modification privileges over the system. We can discuss every change. That way, your control is guaranteed, and everyone still makes money. A win-win is always the best outcome." Zariel gave a reluctant nod. There was no other choice at this point. Still, the terms had to be scrutinized with utmost care to ensure the credit would be attributed to her. Seeing Zariel relent, Anbaixiu pressed on, "Archduke Zariel, since my gift is reasonably generous, I would also like to make a small request. I wonder if you might grant it?" Zariel grew instantly vigilant. "What request?" "Nothing complicated. As you know, my mentor is the God of Alchemy, and He helped me upgrade the magic mirrors. In return, I'd like to send Him a small token of appreciation—for instance, the technology behind infernal engines. Hell's alchemy possesses a unique flair of its own, and I'm sure my mentor would appreciate it. I wonder if Archduke Zariel could do me this small favor?"