"Are you doing it on purpose?"

Bologue unconsciously clenched his hand, squeezing the drink cup, causing the juice to overflow and spill all over his hand.

"What's on purpose? I'm just conversing with you normally."

Belphegor's mouth slightly curved. He had successfully enticed Bologue. Whatever odd things he might say next, Bologue would continue talking to him, simply for the sake of real or false information.

Bologue felt his heartbeat gradually intensify, his chest becoming feverishly hot, with the clear sound of his heartbeat echoing in the cinema.

Seeing Bologue silent, Belphegor spoke on his own, "If immortality is the indestructibility of the flesh, then you should have seen examples of this in the Undying Club, stone sculptures and decaying shells. Is such immortality interesting?"

"Or perhaps like Serey, eternal youth of the flesh? It's not much better, is it? Look at the state Serey is in. His flesh persists, yet his mind is on the verge of collapse. Haven't you noticed?"

Bologue replied, "I actually think Serey's in good spirits."

Serey might be the happiest member of the Undying Club, roaming around different women every day, indulging in drinking once tired of it, or playing board games with Palmer and the others. Bologue couldn't imagine such a person having any worries.

"That just means you've never truly understood Serey."

Bologue didn't answer. He acknowledged that since heading to Wind Source Highlands, Serey had become shrouded in large mysteries in Bologue's eyes, with various fragmented images stitched onto him, causing unease.

"Getting back to the topic of immortality."

Belphegor used those in the Undying Club as examples, "Like Bode, who is just a skeleton frame, having lost all human sensory stimuli, only a numb heart remains eternal. Or like Wei'Er, who is forever in the posture of a beast, having lost the ability to be human."

"But isn't this the tricks of you, Devils?" Bologue gritted his teeth, "It's you who created all this."

"We merely fulfill their wishes."

Belphegor said, "Don't think of Devils as too complicated. You can see us as a group of... wish-granting machines. That's right, wish-fulfilling machines with self-will."

"Humans want something, and we give it to them. Just during this process, we need to collect necessary rewards... you see, we too are bound by our own rules, not omnipotent.

I also want to grant humans eternal life, away from suffering and torment. Unfortunately, I can do this, but humans do not possess the value to acquire such perfect immortality."

"Then what about me?" Bologue asked, "My immortality approaches perfection."

Belphegor said, "That's why you are so unique and beautiful. You must be of extraordinary value to one of my brothers, which is why he granted you such immortality. But I understand that one day, you will grow tired of it, just like Serey."

"No, I will never grow tired."

"Really? On some day in the infinite future, everything you know – people, familiar things, eras of living – all buried within the dust of history, leaving you as a specter crawling out of the tomb, utterly incompatible with this world... can you endure this?"

"Absolutely," Bologue said confidently, "as long as there are memories, I can keep on living."

Belphegor fell silent as he took off his sunglasses, meeting Bologue's gaze.

"Then... Mr. Lazarus, would you like to make a wager with me?"

In an instant, all sounds vanished. Bologue felt his body petrified, unable to move, darkness devoured all light, leaving only him and Belphegor in the world of Dark Void.

Belphegor stared at Bologue, the circles around his eyes darkened like smoky makeup. Following that, his pupils transformed into pure black, with tar-like substances flowing out, trickling over his pale cheeks.

Bologue mockingly retorted, "Do you think this is possible?"

Like an illusion, the eerie scene shattered in an instant, darkness dispersed, and dim light returned to the cinema. Belphegor still wore sunglasses, not looking at Bologue, always keeping his gaze locked onto the screen.

"Looks like we won't be able to come to a conclusion," Belphegor said disappointedly, shaking his head, but then added, "but that's alright, we have plenty of time."

"How about we meet every hundred years, Mr. Lazarus, to discuss your experiences and your views on immortality?"

"Are you trying to turn me into your 'Poet'?"

"Perhaps."

Belphegor continued, "I'm your fan because I think your life is extraordinarily fascinating; it must be great movie material worthy of being added to those Endless Poems."

"Is that so..."

Bologue muttered, realizing why Belphegor showed such enthusiasm towards him. This guy was merely a decadent youth detached from the world, lost in his own beautiful fantasies.

Belphegor loved artistic creation, which is why he rallied a group of Poets to collect for him. Arriving in the modern era, he discovered the art of cinema, thereby beginning to extract memories from souls, editing them into great films.

He's both an audience and a director.

The more fascinating a life, the more meaningful it becomes, the more exalted the art, hence worthy of him paying the stakes.

"Oh, sorry, got off topic."

Belphegor enjoyed conversing with Bologue, putting away the evil of the Devil, facing him in the most ordinary manner.

"In general, I believe for mortals, there is no true immortality of the flesh; rather, the spirit and will can be."

The immortality I promise to the Poets is spiritual immortality. Their works will be included in the Endless Poems, while they, themselves, anyone who sacrifices their soul to me, will be under my protection, enjoying eternal rest, until the completion of these poems, where we will watch together in the cinema, endlessly."

Belphegor's tone was deep and melodious, as if he was reciting a poem.

Bologue murmured, "A collection of derivatives... filling the hotels..."

"You see, we've always been in an equal relationship; we're friends, we're brothers, Poets like myself – we all want to witness the birth of Endless Poems..."

Belphegor's tone shifted.

"But such a promise ultimately seems too far away. I can't remember how many millennia have passed; Endless Poems are still being written. I think only at the end of the world, it can truly complete."

"It's too long. Under the impact of new things, many Poets feel my promise is a scam. In comparison to the eternal world after death, they're more willing to believe in the joy of the present."

Belphegor recalled, "Just like we mentioned earlier... fast food culture? Yes, sort of like that."

One of my brothers and sisters seized the opportunity, tempting Poets with pre-death joy, leading them to abandon me. Thus, Unfettered Poetry Society gradually faded from the historical stage, replaced by Zongge Orchestra."

"They don't care about the future; they only care about the present. They don't care about profound thoughts; they just desire the most straightforward, intense sensory impact."

Belphegor's tone was somewhat sorrowful, "Few can refuse such temptation, right?"

Bologue couldn't be bothered to understand the Devil's sorrowful tales. He even doubted whether Devils ever had something called the emotion of sadness.

"The reason you tell me this is still to make me one of yours, isn't it?"

Belphegor revealed a meaningful smile, "Devils never force others, especially since I now have new Poets."

Bologue's expression froze. Belphegor had forged a Blood Contract with the Order Bureau; perhaps the Order Bureau was the new... new Unfettered Poetry Society."

"No, how is that possible?" Bologue repeatedly confirmed, "I haven't felt any anomaly."

With Bologue's deep insight, he could easily detect nearby anomalies related to Devils, but apart from the Special Operations Group, he sensed no other Debtors within the Order Bureau, not even the Contractors under Protection."

"Because this bet isn't over yet, although, I feel I've already won."

Belphegor was confident of his victory.

Bologue tried hard to calm his inner self, strengthening his enmity against the Devil to avoid lowering his guard.

"Indeed... a Devil is a Devil after all."

Bologue questioned, "You're not just trying to influence me with words, are you?"

Bologue believed he would not be swayed by Belphegor's temptations; he saw Belphegor's actions as futile.

"If you could be easily convinced by me, I would actually be disappointed," Belphegor put away his smile, "I'm merely reminding you, Mr. Lazarus."

"I'm not your enemy. On the contrary, I'm your potential ally. Your true enemy is that entity which corrupted Unfettered Poetry Society, turning it into Zongge Orchestra."

Belphegor explained to Bologue.

"Joyful Witch."

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