...

Chapter 61: The Darkest Of Roses III

...

Zatanna got to work instantly as she waved her hand before her, "Latrop!"

Before her formed a purple portal. She already learned the destination from the letter, and her powers were strong to such an extent that she could teleport there with knowing only mere coordinates.

Ian followed after her, reaching the desert of Egypt in one step. It was late at night, so it was a bit cold instead of hot.

Ian eyed his surroundings as this was the first time he came here himself instead of sending his underlings.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Zatanna questioned with a frown.

"I am 100% sure," Ian spoke and waited for her to do her thing.

"I thought I'd sense something the moment I came here, but I guess it must be an advanced barrier, illusion definitely. Why are you so sure there is something in here?"

"A demon told me." Ian casually responded as he crouched and took a fist of sand before letting it fall back, "It feels real, but I guess illusion might be beyond the scope of my abilities."

All the while, Zatanna narrowed her eyes and stared at him, "Well, now I want you to expand upon what you said."

"Hmm? About the demon?" Ian shrugged his shoulders, seemingly not minding telling her, "I just made a deal with a demon. The price was my soul of course and the reward was this location."

"You're quite honest, aren't you? And stupid, why would you make a deal with demons for something as meaningless as this?" She sounded like she was almost reprimanding him.

Ian had a smile on his face as he drew a smiley face on the sand, a representation of his mood despite all that had happened, "I see no reason why I should hide that, and You're a magician, you must have some kind of bullshit way to find out if I refuse to answer.

I just see no merit as to why I should hide that nor any way that could be used against me, and I just have to not die and my soul will never be collected, how hard can that be?"

He let out a chuckle at the end. Only he can understand the sarcasm in his words.

Zatanna was left speechless, then she remembered that Xanadu only accepts special clients, and he seems to be quite special.

She shook her head and turned her attention to the numerous dunes of sand before her. She lifted her fair hands in the air and muttered, "Tceted! Hcraes! Lecnac!" Spell after spell, and even more spells were cast.

Yet nothing happened as Zatanna frowned, "If none of those worked, then that only leaves one thing... Noitcennoc Hsilbatse!"

Ian could see a vague outline of the previous spells, just a faint white wave, but this spell seemed special as he could clearly see a massive dark blue wave spreading in all directions from her until a small part of it connected with something.

Zatanna instantly turned her head in a certain direction. She could see and finally sense the magical presence in the area. One of the sand dunes started forming into a cyclone. It was a very small cyclone of sand, it didn't rise up in the air but stayed on ground level, giving Zatanna a better clue of what she had just activated.

"Magic is... Can I learn magic?" Ian spoke with interest but he didn't have much hope. His power seems to despise a lot of things and he got the answer he expected.

"I thought you already know, but no, you can't. You strangely don't have a speck of magical energy in you. In fact, you seem to reject it. We all have our secrets, so I won't prey further since you're her client."

Zatanna waved her hand one last time, "Rednor eye ym tel!" From the hand she waved spurted a blue eye that started floating towards the cyclone while she used her other hand to hide her left eye.

The eye went into the cyclone almost as if it had gone into a portal, without any trouble. Zatanna kept doing her own thing for a while though she had a frown on her face, only she knows what she had seen beyond the portal.

"Too bad, I hope I can learn magic in the future somehow," Ian muttered under his breath after seeing the wonderous nature of magic, it was fascinating.

"You can go in." Zatanna spoke, "I'll follow right after you, but it should be safe which is strange... What is that you want from there?"

"A piece of paper," Ian responded before he started making his way to it, and without any hesitation, he jumped into the cyclone.

He only fell for a few meters before safely landing on a well-made stone ground, seemingly made of marble. He looked around sizing up the environment around him.

It was but a simple chamber with little to nothing in it. He saw the piece of paper and that's all he needed. It was lying on the ground like trash, but only he knows its value.

He wasn't worried about any traps, instead, he just picked it up in his hand and like always, nothing happened. He didn't notice but Zatanna was already standing behind him, eyeing the paper with a frown. She had seen the paper with her magic eye but there was nothing weird about it.

Ian also noticed that among all the pieces of Dead hell or as he likes to call it, Trigon's scroll, this one had the least of his writings but the most of the original writings.

Ian didn't ignore learning other languages, specifically old greek and demon's tongue, so while he might still be a bit rough with them, he still understood the words on the piece.

It spoke upon Hell and the Underworld, one weaker than the other as the writer admitted yet he refused to admit of the flames within them, which one is stronger he wondered. No, he was certain his dark flame can not only extinguish the fires of the demons' hell but also bring destruction upon the heaven that gave birth to them.

'It is Hades, of that I am certain. The original writer is definitely him, but how did Trigon come to possess it? He shouldn't be in the same realm but in some other far universe.'

Ian narrowed his eyes at the black stick line which he was sure was written by Trigon. He remembered how the writing looked like when he put together all the other pieces, 'Let it be called The blaze Of Trigon. The flame that shall start it all.'

"This is it?" Zatanna questioned with a frown, "You sold your soul to demons for this?"

"Hmm? It is quite valuable, containing the knowledge of the ancient. I like it." Ian shrugged his shoulders, but Zatanna didn't believe it was that simple, "Hcraes Hguoroht! Noitceted Orcim! Noitceted Live! Noitceted Sseneliv! Ecnassiannocer!"

A mass of blue light flowed out of her palm and surrounded the piece of paper. Ian did nothing to stop her, he had a few plans in effect just in case something like this happens.

However, much to her surprise, she sensed nothing, "It can't be that simple, right? Is it really just a piece of paper?"

Ian raised his brows in surprise which she noticed, "There is nothing strange about it? I had hoped it would be magical somehow but the writings on it are enough for me."

Zatanna frowned before she waved her hand creating a portal before her, "I'll send you back."

Ian caressed the piece of paper with a gentle smile on his face, 'I should be dead right now. I bet if she touched the paper when I am not touching it, she would be dead unless she has some magic bullshit protection. God, I love my power though I wonder sometimes, is my power truly death immunity? Or perhaps I don't have power, it's all just me.'

Only he understood what he meant by the last part. It was something he lost a lot of sleep over, he thought about it a lot, just what Am I? He wonders.

He didn't dwell on his thoughts for long as he followed after her though the portal led him to Xanadu's shop instead of wherever he was before, and Zatanna was nowhere to be seen.

"I take it went well?" Madame Xanadu casually asked, Supernatural activities were normal for her.

"Hmm, It did. Also, remember my offer, it still stands." Ian was about to leave but Xanadu couldn't hold back her curiosity, "Did you make the same offer to her? You need a magician, right?"

"No, I need a magician I can work with, you seem perfect for the job... But I guess I will die in a few weeks so it doesn't matter." Ian shrugged his shoulders and started making his way to his apartment.

He went inside, directly threw his clothes away leaving only his pants, and made his way to a certain room, a fairly dark room.

Within the walls of the room were several symbols and on the ground was a large pentagram made of congealed blood. At the center of the pentagram was a...

...

Chapter 62: The Darkest Of Roses IV

...

Within the walls of the room were several symbols and on the ground was a large pentagram made of congealed blood. At the center of the pentagram was a skull, a rotten old skull.

He already had everything prepared, and he didn't have much time to waste. He brought a container of blood from the corner of the room and poured it on the skull then lit up the candles as fast as he could.

He then took a seat within the Pentagram and started the chant.

"Hear these words, Hear my Cry

Let the threads of hell send a message and call forth the Absolute

The representation of Hell Neron! Come to me, I summon thee!"

There is no certainty that who he was summoning will appear. In fact, most summoners only end up summoning a lower demon. To summon a demon lord or an even more impossible feat such as the nobility of hell, several conditions need to be met.

Rarely do they respond to the cries of mortals unless they have a plan in mind. yet Beelzebub responded to Ian before, and he is one of the princes of hell, a nobility.

Dealing with demons is an atrocious process in which many fall, some lost their minds and others their life which is why Ian took his time in preparing his mind for the wost before calling Beelzebub forth.

He imagined every possible scenario and studied every term, hell, he even read a lot about the law and its evolution. How people sought to get around it and succeeded at times, a lot of times, and he made sure his deal with Beelzebub would be void of any holes.

The demon he was summoning right now was something else, and the only reason he was summoning him so soon was because of the circumstances, he doesn't have much time left.

Thankfully, the deal he did with Beelzebub saved him a lot of trouble as not only did it give him the location of the remaining pieces, but also the book of hell. A Wikipedia of sorts allowing him to dive into the field of demonology.

Ian poked his finger, using a needle, and allowed a drop of his blood to fall on the skull.

However, Neron happened to be needier than his counterparts as he needed one last thing, a candle Ian put within the skull's mouth. It's called The candle of Neron, there is a bunch of them around the world and Ian found one in Gotham. It was the thing Selina robbed on their date night, "I command thee! appear before me!"

It was instant. The air in the room seemed to change, becoming colder despite expecting the opposite from demons of hell.

Before Ian's very eyes, the clotted blood within the Pentagram started flowing towards the skull, almost as if it's a black hole, drawing the filth of the mortal world.

The congealed blood assembled around the skull, slowly merging with it and forming what looks like a humanoid head of pure filthy blood.

The humanoid head had hair and very clear features albeit all formed by blood, a long hair barely touching the ground which isn't much considering It's only at the height of a skull.

It had a very wide jawline and a massive chin. Its features were rough and cold, fitting for a hell lord.

"I command thee huh?" The head opened its sticky and clotted mouth and murmured further, "Mortals are really..."

The head then eyed Ian with its white eyes. It had no pupil, no veins, nothing whatsoever, making the situation all the more horrifying.

Neron sized him up from top to bottom and Ian could almost swear he saw him licking his lips.

"Mm, a prepared victim. I forgot the likes of you exist, so tell me mortal, what is it that you wish?" Indeed, as Ian predicted, Neron is one of the craftiest of demons but also one of the greediest.

"Hmm, first, mind telling me what's so tasty about my soul? What do you see when you look at my soul?" Ian's curiosity had no barrier, if he wants to know something, he goes for it. Recently, his desire to know more about himself has reached an all-time high, and his brain was already working on how to get those answers.

A small grin surfaced on Neron's bloody face as his whispers reverberated throughout the room like the devil's whispers, and that is what he is.

"Your soul is unnaturally pure. It's not unheard of, but it's extremely rare to the point that one can only find no more than ten such souls among the billions of mortals... Then there is the most important reason which I shall tell you after we conclude the deal and I find it to my satisfaction."

Yeah, Ian didn't expect any less from a hell lord with that much greed and craftiness. Of course, he won't tell him the entire thing. In fact, Ian noticed something else, 'If I find it to my satisfaction huh? He'll probably only find it to his satisfaction if he got my soul right now.'

"I see, then we should include it in the contract," Ian murmured and was about to state his wish when Neron spoke with unnatural coldness.

"I don't do contracts, you shall speak your wish and I will grant it instantly at the cost of your soul."

Ian let out a chuckle, something very few would do before a monstrosity such as Neron, "Then I guess I have to go with the alternative. I didn't want to make a deal with Beelzebub because of how disgusting I heard that thing is, but I have no choice."

"Do you think a punny bug like him can even amount to a speck of my prowess? Do you think he can grant you what you wish?

You summoned me first for a reason. It is because your desires are strong. You want something very few can grant, so quit your pointless plays and speak your wish."

His words were spoken as if by instinct... As if he had seen through all the measly plays humans try to get their desires.

Ian remained silent for a bit too long, way too long much to Neron's confusion. He was just thinking, "However, my soul is unnaturally pure to such extent that one can only find up to ten of such pure souls among the billions of humans.

Not just that, it seems that my soul is special even among special souls, or at least, that's what you insinuated... I will absolutely not make a deal with you unless it's written on a contract that binds us to it. I might as well jump into the blazes of hell."

In return, Neron also remained silent for a while before he spoke, "Then a contract shall be made but under a specific term. You seem prepared, so I shall say it right now, I will hunt you for five years, if you survive I will not take your soul."

"..." Ian eyed Neron with a strange gaze, almost as if looking at an idiot, "I'm actually speechless. Just how greedy can you be?"

"As greedy as I desire." Neron spoke again as if by reflex, "And we don't have much time, so speak your wish."

Ian frowned. He already noticed the skull starting to melt with the blood on it evaporating into nothingness, something that didn't happen with Beelzebub.

Perhaps what Neron said was true, he is that much stronger than the bug, and that limited his prowess in the mortal world and increased the restriction put on him in such a state.

After all, the bloody head before him is not even a clone. It's just a synchronized image of Neron with very little power.

"You can start hunting me five years later, that's the furthest I can go. Moreover, I don't think I can survive to that date anyway."

Neron narrowed his white eyes and commanded, "Explain."

"The most important reason has something to do with my desires. The secondary reason is that I have just met a fortune-teller today and she told me I have less than a month to live. She's into magical bullshit, so I trust her words." Ian shrugged his shoulders and casually explained.

Neron scoffed, not trusting Ian's words at all, but he still wanted to hear his desires. That's something he can trust, "We have a deal. Speak of your desires."

Ian smiled and brought the already prepared paper from his side. He also picked up another thing, a black Ring with a natural glossiness to it. Only Ian knows how valuable the little thing is and how long it took to acquire the material, then turn it into that little fabulous ring.

All the terms are on this paper as well as what I want. I'd rather not say anything until it's done for reasons written on the paper. You can add the agreed-upon term to the contract, then I'll look through the paper to make sure everything is alright.

Neron eyed the paper, reading through the terms in the blink of an eye. An unnatural frown surfaced on his face as he looked strangely at Ian, "This?"

...

Chapter 63: The Darkest Of Roses V

...

Neron eyed the paper, reading through the terms in the blink of an eye. An unnatural frown surfaced on his face as he looked strangely at Ian, "This?"

He was understandably perplexed as he questioned, "I can understand getting rid of any tracking magic or anything similar on you, but what about using your life force as fuel for an infinitely expanding space ring?"

Ian shrugged his shoulders, "Well, I'll die soon, so might as well. I've made too many enemies, and the fortune-teller did tell me I'll die in less than a month."

Neron narrowed his melting eyes, "You don't seem to trust the fortune-teller, yet you trust her words... Why?"

"Well, there is a possibility that she put some kind of spell on me, or her friend did. Either way, I don't trust anything I don't understand at all. Her words however I can trust." Ian stopped right there, not interested in explaining any further.

Neron frowned, still unsure. His paranoid nature made him think of all the possibilities, 'He doesn't have infinite life force. I saw what those look like, and his soul looks nothing like those... It looks weirder.

Moreover, he has scars on his body, mortal scars. Creatures with infinite life force don't have those, so what is he playing at?

It's written in the terms that the ring should absorb his life force in a certain ratio so as to allow him to live no more than a month which insinuates he truly believes the fortune teller.

That also indicates he knows how such artifacts work. They need constant fuel for them to work or a rule supporting them.

Perhaps he knows I will never be the fuel of a mortal's desires just like the previous victims, or perhaps he knows of such a victim. Either way, what does he want to do with the Ring?

It was obviously prepared long before this, yet he said he had just met the fortune-teller today, so he must've been preparing for this for a long time... That or it's something he values, an inheritance perhaps?'

Neron was certainly not liking how this was going, 'This is why I prefer to look for victims myself, I can see their desire which makes everything simple, yet I cannot see his... I want his soul no matter the price.'

Neron eyed the paper again, seeing no obvious hole he can exploit, predictable, the man before him was prepared.

He opened his mouth widely, letting clotted blood flow out and form into a contract, a large blood contract with all the terms engraved on it.

Ian glanced at the melting head before starting to read all the terms from top to bottom, making sure a specific term is there, one of the most important ones.

'Any and all terms or even words written on the contract I am not aware of are invalid... Basics of how to deal with demons 101. Let's see, everything is fine.'

Ian let a drop of his blood fall on the contract and melt into it. The contract was established.

"Put the Ring within my mouth, do the same with your hand," Neron ordered as he opened his mouth wide open beyond what's possible for humans. Within was what looked like a blood river moving in the shape of a vortex.

Ian did as told, and he wasn't worried about what the demon might do. Not to say he trusts the demon but he did trust the terms on the contract.

He put the Ring on his index finger and drove his left hand into the blood vortex. In contrast to what Ian anticipated, the operation was quick, ending in the blink of an eye. The doing of a being who can bend reality to his will.

"I am looking forward to the day you die. It may be tomorrow, a month from now, or even five years. It matters not, I shall have your soul."

The blood head then melted into nothingness. The skull was nowhere to be seen, and the same was for the blood Ian poured on it.

"Sure," Ian murmured before turning his attention to the black ring on his finger, tracing his right-hand fingers alongside it, feeling its smoothness as well as what's inside.

Indeed, Ian could sense the seemingly dark space within the ring all through his life force. The black diamond ring was absorbing his life force at a very slow rate.

That's the opposite of what was agreed upon and Ian realized why instantly, it's the usual amount of life force he releases when in contact with things. The ring doesn't seem to be able to draw more despite Neron intending for that to happen.

That's both a positive and a negative. It's good to know that not just anything can suck his life force how it wants, but he also wants to transfer more of his life force into the ring due to how he arranged it to work.

The space within the ring is quite small, just a duffel bag's worth of space, but it's expanding slowly. The ring devours his life force not only to expand but also to control. That's how Ian intended for the ring to work, he can communicate with it with his life force.

'I release my life force at a massive rate when in intimate situations, so expanding the space within it shouldn't be a problem.' Ian thought in his mind before standing up and picking up a paper left in place of the skull. He took a long shower, thoroughly cleaning himself up.

Ian then brought the piece of Trigon's scroll, placed it on the table, and bent his index finger allowing the ring to touch the paper directly.

Something the ring allowed him to do was to sense his life force. It wasn't very clear but he could at least get a general picture of what was happening, his life force was enveloping the paper, slowly but surely.

It took one minute for it to envelop the paper in its entirety which allowed for what he desired the happen. The paper disappeared from the table and emerged within the space of the ring at the cost of some of his life force.

"What a fascinating process. I absolutely have no idea how this works or how it makes any sense whatsoever, but I guess it has to do with some reality alternating bullshit." Ian murmured with a grin on his face, "God the possibilities are endless."

Perhaps he could've just asked for a ring of endless space, but for such a ring to work, it would need a source of fuel or a concept keeping it together. Ian didn't want that, he wanted to be the fuel and the concept of the ring alone. There are too many dangers otherwise.

"Ayayayay yaaa yaay," A representation of his good mood was his humming as he put on his disguise and left the building, making his way to a certain car.

"You really took your time, leaving me waiting in the heat of the sun," Richard was waiting for him in the car, and it was a bit hot.

"You shouldn't have followed me in the first place, and it's 4 PM, the sun is falling so it's not that hot, is it?" Ian shrugged his shoulders and placed his things in the car. The black ring's space is saved for special things.

"Tch, I've been waiting here for two hours straight, so can you be a bit apologetic at least? If I am not here, who'll make sure you don't waste even a day's worth of training?"

"You're quite strict, aren't you? But don't worry, I want to be stronger to the point that I hired someone as rigid as you, so I certainly won't waste my time."

"Is that a compliment?" Richard was unsure, so he questioned.

"Yeah? Anyway, I don't have that much time, so please drive in the planned direction." Ian instructed while looking at his watch.

While on the way back to Gotham, Ian started looking at the paper left by Neron, the answer to his question. Why is his soul so attractive?

'It's the same as Zatanna said, my soul ignores magic, but it's even further than that, it seems to have some natural immunity to rules. Was he able to see that or did he deduce that by trying something on me?

There are many possibilities but the one likely to be true should have something to do with desires.

Demons can sense people's desires, it's an affinity of theirs, yet both Beelzebub and Neron asked about my desire instead of enticing me with it from the start. Perhaps I am overthinking this, but that's what I do.'

He then did a bit of magic, making the paper disappear. What came next is waiting until his next desire is met, the one where Neron has to get rid of any spell cast on him, and it isn't a far-fetched possibility.

He just doesn't trust sorcerers, so he had to make sure though he stated in the terms for the wish to only take effect after a certain time. That wouldn't help much against someone like Zatanna except for the fact that he had prepared a distraction, his signature move.

The distraction gave him enough time to reach the outskirts of Gotham, and luckily, she didn't appear before him yet, so his other distractions weren't needed.

Ian let out a sigh of anticipation as he looked out of the window at the vague outline of disappearing nature... The car was entering the chaotic Gotham, "Well, I am looking forward to my death."

...

Chapter 64: The Darkest Of Roses VI

...

Most have come to a simple conclusion. The Roses were abandoned by their leaders. Even Ian has disappeared for a while now.

The crime families waited for something else to happen, but nothing did. They'd have to assume at some point that the Roses escaped in fear.

Where organizations decline due to such premises, the Roses stayed strong. Very few of them lost hope. Why? Because the family was built like a cult.

It's easier to fool someone than to convince them they've been fooled, and the Roses weren't fooled. They've been given exactly what they were promised, so their faith was strong.

Yet none even come close to her. She walked through the streets of Gotham, late at night. She was attired in a long black dress, almost like a nun's clothes.

Her black hair was falling to her waist, and one can see a few grey hairs on her hair despite not being that old. She was in her early forties.

Her face spoke of wisdom, of someone who had gone through a lot. She had seen a lot which is why Ian chose her. She was the most special person among the first Rose members by far.

To the Roses, she was the most gentle person in the family, taking care of everything but making sure everything is perfect. She especially focused on Cat's rest.

Layla was a lady of simple perfection, gentle and calm bearing. A signal of which was her never-changing smile of natural gentleness, or as some may say... It needn't be said.

Her face glowed under the fluorescent of the Rose in her gloved hand. A crimson flower with a pink hue to it.

Some kind of chemical was applied to it, giving it that luminance, almost like a ritual of sorts.

It's been almost two weeks since Ian made the deal with Neron and came back to Gotham, but he hasn't been seen since then, not even by the Roses.

Nonetheless, the Roses seem to know what they have to do... Except for Layla. Her current actions were of her own violation without anyone's knowledge.

Her steps were slow and silent as she made her way through a dark alleyway, not minding stepping on the dirty puddles of water along the way.

"Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?!" The peace was broken by the loud yelling of a certain man, seated on a chair next to a door.

His clothes were unorganized, and of no natural synergy whatsoever, just a bunch of different clothes put together with no thought behind them. He looked almost like a beggar, but the stench of alcohol did explain a lot to Layla.

The first thing Layla did in response was to attach the Rose to the belt of her dress. She then approached the man.

"I am here to meet with sir Dragos Ibanescu. May you lead the way?" Who wouldn't believe her with her unchanging expression and manner of speech?

"Oh? You'r..." The drunk henchman was about to speak, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. All he could do is bring his hand to his throat and feel his still warm blood leak out, like a river streaming down a mountain.

He wanted to speak. He wanted to scream dearly for his life, but a gentle hand found itself on his mouth as a shush was whispered in his ear. Layla was delicate in her movement as she placed him on the ground and gently pushed her knife through his chest.

It was not just any knife but the knife, Ian's Kryptonian knife. It was a work of art that was able to cut through bones like butter.

She searched him for a minute before finding the keys. He had a gun but she didn't seem interested in picking it up. She was bringing a knife to a gunfight, quite the bizarre thing indeed.

Perhaps she was seeking her death? Either way, she opened the door which led to a hallway with several doors to the side. The security seemed extremely lax, allowing her to just walk out to the closest door and knock on it. She's most definitely seeking her own death.

The door was opened by another drunk individual, this one even more muddled than the last, "yhat?"

Layla noticed two other individuals inside, so she just extended her hand for him to shake and that he did in his dizzy state.

Layla then just started walking away while pulling him away with her, and before he could question her about anything, she sliced his throat, specifically his jugular as she had done the same thing thousands of times.

Layla was quick to go behind him and grab his face, not allowing him to scream or make much movement. She followed directly after with a stab to his heart.

'It's nothing like before. I wonder how Ian acquired such a weapon?' Layla wondered as she placed the body on the floor. The guy had already lost consciousness, and he was losing more blood by the second. If she didn't stab his heart, he'd be dead in a minute but the heart stab lowered that time to seconds.

Getting a clean slice on the jugular is quite hard, and stabbing the heart is even harder. The only reason she found it so easy is because of the dagger.

Her gloves and dagger were already drenched in blood, so she made sure to hide her hands behind her back as she entered the room.

The two drunkards in the room weren't aware of what happened. They didn't even stop to think for a second about where their friend has gone.

They just watched Tv in their braindead state, allowing Layla to pass by them and slit their throats in the blink of an eye. She has definitely done that many times before.

The place was a shithole, very much to Layla's liking as it means shitty people live within hence the lack of security and order.

One way or another, Layla found herself clearing all the rooms, leaving blood pools behind her every step, yet her usual gentle smile never left her.

She reached the boss' room, also known as Dragos Ibansecu. It looked more luxurious from the outside than the rest and more isolated though Layla saw two henchmen guarding the room.

She remained calm and just walked toward them with her hands behind her back, her dagger was hidden from their eyes.

The two however more alert than the rest as they pulled their guns out and aimed at her, "Who the fuck are you?" They were understandably confused.

"Hm? Did Sir Dragos not tell you? We have a meeting, you should know that because even the guy guarding the outer door knows it." She spoke with unnatural calmness and confidence. The guns pointed at her not fazing her was a show of fearlessness.

"That's a lie, right? No way would the boss invite someone while doing that... Would he?" One of the henchmen wondered though her confidence made them both doubt themselves.

Moreover, why would the outer guard allow her inside if her words were a lie? Then again, they should definitely know if an appointment between their boss and someone has been scheduled.

They were perplexed, unsure of what to do until the other guard noticed something peculiar, "Why are your hands behind..."

Her actions were all calculated. Even when she uttered those first words to them, she spoke unhurriedly while walking toward them, allowing her to shorten the distance further.

By now, she was standing a mere foot away from them, which would've still been dangerous if not for her next action.

"Nothing serious. It's just because of this." As she spoke, she turned her head to her left, seemingly paying full attention to her left hand which she extended to her far left.

From her gloved hand slipped a few drops of blood. They looked like they were almost falling to the ground in slow motion, at least from the guards' perspective as they comprehended the picture before them.

'Ahh, distractions. I always knew they were good, but Ian showed me a whole new universe, a way of life.'

She didn't dwell in her thoughts for even a second as she lowered her stance and leaped towards the man to the left. She clenched the dagger in her hand and sliced his armed hand, facing no resistance whatsoever.

She was swift in hiding to the left of the man, making him a meat shield against his fellow henchmen.

She knew a single slice to the hand wasn't enough, so before the poor man could scream, she stabbed the dagger into his armpits, her target was his axillary artery, a large artery very close to the heart, so if a slice, blood will come gushing down like a waterfall.

The poor man didn't get any break as his state of weakness allowed her to kick him toward his fellow guard just as the latter was about to fire in their direction, and he did manage to fire albeit he only added to his friend's misery.

Layla followed after the poor man, hiding behind him before sliding a little to the side, surprising the henchman with a slice to the Popliteal artery, in the back of his knee.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" A piercing shriek of pain resounded throughout the area as the man fell to the ground in unimaginable pain. His friend, unfortunately, didn't even get to scream.

Layla stood up behind the screaming man and put him out of his misery with odd gentleness.

She found it strange that no one within the room has reacted, then she remembered the henchmen's words. The boss was doing that?

She opened the room in her usual defenseless state. She either doesn't care about death or she's seeking her own death.

"W-WHo?"

"Oh... I see."

...

Chapter 65: The Darkest Of Roses VII

...

"W-WHo?"

"Oh... I see."

Dragos was sitting on the bed, butt naked though he was using the blanket to cover himself a bit. Next to him was a woman, perhaps a prostitute.

Layla got the gist of the situation. The henchman's scream interrupted the action though she still didn't see how such action is possible with how morbidly obese the man is.

"It's alright. I am here for the girl." Layla gently spoke as she started making her way toward him with her hands behind her back.

Like before, she used Ian's signature move of distraction, making them confused as she approached them. It would've gone perfectly if not for the prostitute's scream of horror.

Layla had closed the door behind her, making sure they don't see what they shouldn't, albeit the poor henchmen were bleeding to such an extent that the puddles of their blood expanded passed the door's threshold into the room.

Layla let out a sigh though she wasn't worried. Dragos seemed like an idiot to her as he didn't bother bringing a gun out at the scream of his subordinate.

"What do you want!?" Dragos leaped back in fright and nervousness at the sight of blood.

"I want her," Layla gently spoke as she eyed the woman, and Dragos was quick to act as he pushed the frightened prostitute towards her, "Yyes, please just take her and leave me alone!"

The prostitute was pushed with such a force that she stumbled her steps and fell to the ground, hurting her knees in the process, tears of fright and pain were falling down her face as Layla crouched close to her and caressed her hair with her blood-filled hands, "It's fine. Everything is going to be alright."

Layla stood up a second later, leaving another expanding blood pool behind her as she approached Dragos who finally regained some of his wits and tried to reach out for the gun on the table.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" Alas, he found his hand stuck on the table as Layla's dagger went right through it.

The man almost passed out in pain, but he still had enough strength to speak a few last cries, "Ahh Aaa God no please no! Wha hav I done to u!"

"You were the first to jump on destroying my lovely home." And finally, a bit of emotion surfaced on her face, slight anger, "You destroyed something dear to me... It might all be a part of his plan, but that doesn't make it any less painful, so please bear my anger."

She didn't wait for him to respond as she pulled the knife out of his hand and started chaotically stabbing him in his chest and face. In contrast to her previous meticulous cuts, these ones were stabs of pure emotions without any meticulousness to them.

Layla let out a sigh as she took off her baggy dress. It was drenched in blood by this point which was easily anticipated by her as she had another dress underneath, only God knows how she was able to move with such swiftness while wearing such clothes.

She still had her gloves on as she threw the Rose she brought with her on the bed with the dress and lit it up on fire. The fire spread extremely quickly, all due to the flammable chemicals on the Rose and the dress, it was almost like a ritual.

'I feel better... Now I can serve him better with a clear mind. Thank you father, due to your training, I can be more valuable. I guess even the most worthless of trash can do a good thing sometimes.' The gentlest of Roses was in actuality the darkest of Roses.

Layla left the building in utter silence, leaving behind her a silent massacre without any clues to her identity. The authorities only arrived after a significant part of the place was burned down.

Her actions led Ian to call off a certain operation of his as it became unnecessary, and he didn't have to wonder for long who did the deed because Layla told him herself through a message.

Ian traced his fingers along his black diamond ring with a smile of amusement on his face, "Of course, you will grow up fucked up if you spent most of your life in a cult, let alone if you were the leader's daughter with much responsibilities."

Ian eyed his dear ring again, remembering something, "Right, I forgot to give you a name... Dark Rose. Simple and it sounds pleasing to the ears."

He blinked and in his hands appeared a strange folded scroll. It used to take him a while to summon something from his ring but as he fed it more of his life force, it became easier and easier to control.

The scroll in his hand was bizarre, to say the least. It looked like a combination of several pieces of torn papers, assembled together to form the scroll before him.

It was held together by what looked like a burning fire, a crimson fire with black vines all over it. Despite how ancient the scrolls look, it was almost indestructible, not even the fire of hell can burn it for it was partially made by it though it was made with black flames before that.

'Combining the fire of hell with the black flames of the underworld, absolutely brilliant though it's something that can only be done with a being as demonic as Trigon.

I am at least thankful the scroll didn't summon Trigon or get his attention so soon. Perhaps it's because of me? Because of my bizarre soul?

After all, Neron wasn't able to detect the deal I made with Beelzebub on my soul or in my body, and I was counting on that... Did the contract even take effect on me in the first place? Am I bound by its rules?'

Ian caressed the gorgeous scroll, its fire having no effect on him though he didn't open it. He knows what would happen if he opened it, and he isn't worried about his safety but how much unnecessary destruction it would cause.

'However, a lot of expected things aren't happening. I expected people to look for me by now for the Kryptonian incident. I did take a few alien technologies after all, yet no one came despite there being witnesses at the time... Someone is covering for me.

The problem is the lack of action. Another example would be Zatanna. She has yet to find me despite almost two weeks passing since we met. She should be suspicious of me, right? She really should, else how can I use her?'

Ian let out a sigh before thinking of one last person, 'Then there is Ivy, I really wanted to work with her. We would be a great team considering how my power seems to rejuvenate her and even strengthen her, yet she disappeared for so long... Just what the fuck is happening.'

The good thing about what had happened is that there wasn't much destruction aside from the Cat's rest. After all, the crime families wouldn't want to thoroughly destroy what could be their territory in the future.

Moreover, the Rose of peace remained strong and continued with its operation without much trouble. The Rose territory also remained relatively peaceful, all within Ian's expectations.

If he stayed, the crime families and his enemies would've had a target to go after, a goal to pursue. His disappearance disrupted their plans as they found that all they had to do is to destroy the symbol of the Roses, the Cat's rest.

They saw no purpose to cause more destruction as their goal was Ian, and there was only so much time they can wait and remain cautious before their greed control them.

Or perhaps it was the fall of the Ibanescu family, a very small family but one of them nonetheless. The mysterious circumstances of its fall forced them to do exactly what Ian wants.

"Are you really not joining?" The one to speak was none other than Superman himself, the symbol of hope. He was in an entirely different city in what looked like an advanced facility.

He wasn't alone, many were around him, but he was paying the most attention to the man walking away, Batman.

"I am not a people person. I rather continue to do what I do best. It's just better for everyone that way, but I'll be on call if something happens."

Batman didn't halt his steps but continued leaving them with those words.

The six remaining people in the room looked at each other before letting out a sigh themselves.

"He seems like the stubborn kind, so it makes sense... but," One of them, a woman spoke. She was attired in a shield-like vest, a skirt to go with it, a tiara with the star emblem, handcuffs, and boots to finish her look. Her name was Diana, or as everyone knows her, Wonder Woman.

"We'll have to get him to be a people person I guess?" Superman added.

"Yaghihalottdsy!" A man wearing a red suit with a flash symbol on the chest spoke some nonsense before disappearing from where he stood as he was never there.

"He said 'Yeah am going home. I have a lot of things to do, see you.'" Superman alleviated most of the heroes in the room's confusion though his face was still twitching at Flash's behavior.

"This doesn't feel like a league at all. I guess it will take time, until then, I also have a lot of things to do." Green lantern shrugged his shoulders before flying away better than a better ever could.

"Justice league huh..."

Batman was in a hurry. He had to go back to Gotham as he had this gut feeling that something bad is going to happen, especially with the recent circumstances and the disappearance of Ian... Alas, he was too late.