Incredible...

Someone once said Paganini was a devil. But now, Schlot felt as if he truly witnessed the devil arriving in this world for a moment, clinging to that young man's slender frame, casting its piercing laughter towards the mortal world. So insane. Under that incredible, captivating power, everyone felt they could hardly breathe, like a rickety sampan before a cataclysmic tsunami—trembling, swaying, helpless.

When the instrument for this variation switched from violin to cello, the original eerie, whisper-like transformations, akin to a devil's murmur, morphed into thunderclaps that seemed to shake the earth itself. Only when the tempo of the melody slowed, gradually becoming serene, did the profound theme hidden within the tempestuous sound slowly reveal itself. It was the sorrow and helplessness of watching the devil carry one's Soul further and further away.

"The train from Hell is hurtling towards despair..."

Muttering subconsciously, Newman gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. He was nearly swept into the profound undercurrents hidden beneath the calm melody, caught in the terrifying, captivating power of Huai Shi's music.

Indeed, hurtling. The gradually slowing tempo pushed irresistibly forward, carrying with it the panic of crossing the Gate of Hell, step by step, into the deepest fires and Purgatory.

Death.

Death was rising, like a dazzling array of stars. It was omnipresent, soaring up from the deep melodies, flying over corridors littered with corpses, through a gruesome, bloody hell. Flying, flying, along with the frenzied operatives, yet always one step ahead of them.

A step like Sky Gorge.

That was why everything in sight was so cruel. Death, death, death—ordinary corpses appeared as if ravaged by some monster, torn apart. In such agony, even death itself became a release.

Finally, even the screams over the communication channel vanished.

In the silent control room, only the last person remained. The final Ghoul collapsed in his chair, trembling. He watched the figure on the screen walking towards him, step by step. His lips moved, opening and closing, but he was unable to speak. He wanted to scream, but no sound could emerge; it was like a whimper, yet it could not spread in the face of this bone-chilling aura.

At last, the door was pushed open. A girl with a gentle smile, Luo Xian, stood in the doorway, gazing at the twisted face before her. Her white dress remained spotless. Only the nails on her ten fingers looked as if they were coated in crystal-red nail polish—a red so deep it induced despair.

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away earlier and wasn't paying attention," Luo Xian said. She bent down, put her grocery basket aside, and casually rummaged through it. But there was nothing left in the basket. Finally, she could only rise regretfully, holding the last remaining items.

"Onions and beef ribs."

She held them up and softly asked, "Which do you prefer?"

"..."

In the frozen, deathly silence, the last Ghoul faced the primordial monster and finally let out a scream saturated with despair.

And so, amidst the distant, mournful, and plaintive melody, a hint of joy suddenly emerged in the notes.

Like a devil's joyous song.

In the examination hall, a dead silence prevailed.

This was undoubtedly the Twenty-fourth Caprice, yet it was no longer the version they knew. At this moment, the flawed technique, evident in the fragmented notes, was melded together by this intense, captivating power, elevating it to a state of seamless harmony. From the hands of this unknown young man, an unprecedented style was revealed!

An unprecedented feat.

And an unprecedented Talent!

...God.

Schlot bit his finger, staring intently at the hands on the strings. The five dancing fingers tapped out the rhythm according to the player's Intention, creating faint Afterimages under the lights, like a devil's Illusion Technique. The young man's dark pupils were now shot with blood, resembling the flames of Hell—a conflagration of iron and fire—radiating a fervent and intoxicating light.

Having cast everyone present to the back of his mind, Huai Shi lowered his gaze, unleashing his melody as if no one else existed. Such soaring confidence and composure; he was like a completely different person from moments before.

Incredible...

At this moment, the pupils of all the examiners lit up with a flame of excitement that wasn't entirely their own; it was a ripple of awe, as if they were witnessing a true spectacle.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"

Despite the carnage among the Hunting Dogs he had hired, the Professor's Source Substance watched the sounds of Hell with such excitement, laughing admiringly from the darkness.

"Is this not a hymn belonging to Hell!" the Professor exclaimed in praise. "To think that such art still exists in the Current Circumstances today?"

I was so close, so close to missing such a marvelous work... he thought, so excited he could barely contain himself. This piece alone surpasses any so-called legendary title!

「.」

Huai Shi felt as if he himself had been ignited by nonexistent karmic flames.

On the title page of the Book of Fate, the line of characters was changing frantically, stirred by the melody, breaking through its limits. In an instant, the entry for cello proficiency had soared wildly from its original Level 6, breached the Level 10 threshold, and reached the astonishing Level 12!

He had broken through the Domain of mortals, becoming the first to advance into the legendary Domain.

As the thunderous melody seemed to charge towards Hell, his consciousness once again felt as if it had transcended the shackles of his flesh. Treading upon the invisible melody as if climbing an iron staircase, he ascended step by step.

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