Chapter 600: Career Expansion Pack: Nine Hells!
Storm Ridge, Bathor City.
This city, built decades ago by Tiefling hands, was once one of the earliest footholds of the Empire of Ashen. But time has reshaped it.
Now, Bathor City sprawls across a vastly expanded territory. Towering, orderly constructions rise like sentinels, their walls and eaves carved with fearsome, lifelike reliefs—clear echoes of the Tiefling people’s Purgatory heritage. Beyond the city walls, the steam-powered rail platform from the south hums with industrial energy. The classical Purgatory aesthetics of the Tiefling culture blend seamlessly with the Empire’s raw industrial edge, creating a strangely harmonious clash of styles.
Inside the city, people move back and forth in constant motion—bustling, alive. The population now numbers fifty thousand, making it one of the larger urban centers within the Empire. Nearly forty percent of its residents are Tiefling, but the streets are also filled with Humans, Great Goblins, Ogres, Half-Ogres, and countless other races. And beneath it all—countless Players, uncounted and unregistered.
Because of its location on Storm Ridge, the surrounding terrain is wildly varied, with intense elemental reactivity. The land teems with vicious, aggressive monsters, and there have even been incidents where rail tracks were destroyed. For new Players, this makes Bathor City a prime spot for taking quests and testing their mettle.
But this time, something different is happening.
An overwhelming wave of Players is converging on Bathor City. They arrive from every direction—by ground, by sky, across space itself.
At the rail platform, the earth trembles faintly. The iron beast emerges from the horizon’s edge, roaring through the wasteland, before slowly pulling into the station with a piercing whistle.
"Woo—"
"Bathor City has been reached. All passengers, please remember His Majesty’s Gratitude. Disembark in an orderly fashion."
The conductor’s voice rings clearly through the train car—but as soon as the doors open, passengers surge out like a flood breaking its banks.
"Charge!"
"Hurry! If we wait, there’ll be nothing left!"
"Old Wang, you’re a Warrior—strong and bulky—clear a path for me!"
"Those veterans are flying and teleporting—how are we newbies supposed to keep up? We’ve got to move fast!"
"Damn, the crowd’s insane. Should’ve just sacrificed my experience points and teleported here!"
"You guys can stand there blocking the way all you want—I’m flying straight in!"
A Mage Player sneers, tearing open a scroll of flight. His body instantly lightens, lifting off the ground.
Then—
"Aaah! Who the hell just attacked me?!"
A thief on the ground had thrown a rope, precisely lassoing the Mage’s leg and yanking him down with brutal force.
"Get down here, you bastard!"
"Damn, it’s a black beast!"
【Night Poet】 gulps down an Acceleration Elixir, wipes his lips, and suddenly moves like a ghost through the crowd, vanishing into the throng in a blink.
"Hahaha! Taste my dust, losers!"
A Frenzied Warrior Player throws back his head, downing an entire bottle of Rage Potion. With a sharp crack, his muscles swell grotesquely, bursting through his clothes.
"Aaaaaaah! Anyone in my way dies!"
His eyes burn red. He shoves aside everything in front of him, charging forward with an unstoppable aura.
A Druid Player summons wolves, mountain chickens, brown bears—five different creatures circling him, clearing a path through the chaos.
The platform descends into utter pandemonium. Chickens fly, dogs scatter, and the scene looks like a battlefield. Everyone wants to be the first to enter Bathor City.
Inside the private cabin of the steam train, Ekmon Baron—the former Captain of the Guards, now returning home to visit family—stares out the window with clear disdain.
He watches the wild scramble of Players bursting from the carriage, his face twisted in disbelief.
"By Kai Xiusu above… what madness is this now?"
A veteran of the Empire, having served in the Tiefling Guard for ten years and fought countless battles of wits with Players, Ekmon is long accustomed to their antics. But he’s powerless to stop them. He simply sighs deeply.
"Ah… best just avoid the storm for now. I can always go home later. Time’s not that tight."
Under normal Empire standards, the 【Long Live the Empire】 express train holds six hundred passengers. But this run carries nearly two thousand—most of them Players.
They’ve done everything possible to squeeze in: crammed into carriages, perched on rooftops, even hanging from the sides like grimy decorations.
In the sky, Players soar on Wyverns. On the ground, others race on Dire Wolves, pushing themselves to the limit. Rifts in space split open one after another just outside the city.
From every corner of the Empire, Players pour in—driven by one singular, clear goal:
Career Expansion Pack: Nine Hells!
Just hours ago, Imperial officials posted notices in every major city, spreading a single message:
"Come to Bathor City. Claim strength from Hell. The power of the Devil."
To mortals, Devil’s strength is poison—dangerous, forbidden. But to Players?
It’s like a golden cake falling from the sky.
They’d eat a Frost Giant’s toe, a witch’s scalp, just for power. Signing a Demon Pact? No problem.
And growing bat wings, horns, or a devilish aura? Far from terrifying—these are cool. Pure, unfiltered guy stuff.
So, over a million Players across the Empire erupted in ecstasy, rushing toward Bathor City with reckless abandon—human cyclones of pure, unbridled hunger.
"Bathor City! Hell Expansion Pack—I’m coming!"
The fastest of them, 【Night Poet】, lets out a triumphant shout—only to freeze mid-sentence.
His eyes widen.
Ahead, stretching for miles, a line of Players snakes out from the city gates.
"What… what the hell? They’re here this fast?"
Night Poet rubs his chin, gritting his teeth. Then, with a smirk, he pulls on his cloak, melting into the shadows.
On the towering city wall, a Tiefling Guard raises a megaphone, shouting:
"Citizens! Please line up in order! Entry requires inspection at the gate!"
But in the dark shadows beneath the wall, Night Poet chuckles.
"Rules? I don’t care. Winning is all that matters."
"These fools are still queuing. The smart ones already have their Demon Pact."
He slips into the shadows, using his Illusionist abilities to glide through the darkness, aiming to bypass the gate and sneak in.
Then—
A streak of crimson light slices through the air.
"Shhhhh—"
Night Poet screams as he’s ripped from the shadows, his body exposed. The Bloodlight moves too fast—there’s no escape.
With a flash, he’s split cleanly in two. Blood sprays across the ground. A deep crack splits the earth.
"Impossible…"
Night Poet drags his upper half forward, one hand clawing at the dirt. His voice is weak, broken.
"I… I didn’t… even…"
Then silence.
The crowd sees the corpse. A wave of Schadenfreude ripples through them.
"That’s the black beast, isn’t it?"
"No, now he’s ‘Lao Hei’—or ‘Night Five-Five’."
"Haha! Last time he got his head blown off—now he’s split in two! Perfect!"
On the wall, the Guard keeps shouting:
"For the order of Bathor City! Under the supervision of the Empire’s Minister of Governance, Meizhuolashi Duke himself is here!"
"Obey the laws. Violate them, and you’ll face the consequences!"
Then—
"Look!"
All eyes turn upward.
Atop the tallest tower, a Tiefling stands in regal armor, Imperial Medal glinting on his chest. He holds a bloodstained longsword. His black eyes are cold, empty.
This is Meizhuolashi—Duke of the Empire, Chieftain of the Tiefling, one of the Three Great Dukes.
"He’s here too…"
"Be careful. Be careful."
"No wonder the black beast got cut in half. That’s the new village guard captain."
The Players grow tense. Their reckless excitement fades. They quietly form a line, stepping back into order.
After all, the body of Night Poet is a stark warning.
Meizhuolashi watches the crowd from above, his Bloodstained Greatsword resting behind him. For the first time in years, a faint smile touches his lips.
"I never thought so much time had passed."
He remembers—ten years ago, he was a warrior, using force to silence Players. Back then, Ashen Hollow was just a nameless monster stronghold in the Northern Regions.
Now? The Empire of Ashen controls the old Northern lands. The Red Dragon’s wings shadow the entire Anzeta Great Wasteland. The whole Feiansuo Continent trembles at its name.
And he never imagined he’d rise to such a height—holding power over hundreds of thousands, even dictating the fates of mortals, commanding their mythical ancestors—demons from Hell.
Once, he only wanted his people to survive.
Now, seeing the cautious, obedient Players below, Meizhuolashi turns and walks down the tower’s stairs.
There’s still much to do.
---
Bathor City – Hell Exchange
A towering structure, built over days by hundreds of Devils bound by Pact. It radiates the heavy, oppressive aura of Purgatory.
Inside, the grand hall is adorned with murals of Avernus, lifelike Devil statues, and terrifying prayer-seeking carvings.
Even Tieflings—Devil-blooded by birth—rarely appreciate such a heavy Purgatory aesthetic. But Players? They’re obsessed. The line stretches so far, it snakes all the way out of the city.
Lucky Emperor, clad in a long robe marked with the symbol of the Magic Coin, stands at the front. His eyes gleam with excitement.
"Wow… so many people. No wonder. Rumor has it this Nine Hells expansion pack is both flashy and powerful—with almost no hard requirements."
He glances back at the endless queue.
"Thank the stars I’m in a top guild. We got intel early. Our Guild Leader warned us."
But as he thinks of his Guild Leader, a faint, uneasy smile tugs at his lips.
Just moments ago, he’d anonymously posted a video on the Player Forum: Charlotte’s Transformation into a Beauty to Seduce Nobles.
And soon after—Charlotte herself contacted him with the career expansion news.
Was this betrayal?
It was anonymous, after all. Shouldn’t matter, right?
He opens his Character Sheet, flips to the post—and freezes.
Thousands of replies flood the thread.
【The blush on a girl’s face says more than any love poem. A cross-dresser’s still a man’s man.】
【Of course, only a real man understands men. I declare Charlotte the #1 beauty of Ailezegai. My 127th wife.】
【I think I’m questioning my sexuality. Could Charlotte actually be a woman? Just hiding her disguise?】
【Holy crap, Charlotte looks this good in a dress? I’m joining Magic Coin now.】
【I’m done.】
【Wait, dude, what are you even doing? You’re clearly starving.】
【Anyone who can watch this and still not eat a Beijing-style meat roll? You’re a god.】
Lucky Emperor bursts out laughing.
"Hahaha! These Water Friends are so funny—"
Then—his hand freezes.
His breath hitches.
His eyes lock onto a single reply.
【Lucky Emperor, you’re dead.】
What?!
I sent it anonymously! The video was one-of-a-kind! How could Charlotte know it was me?
Panic creeps in. But he clings to hope. He opens Charlotte’s chat window.
【Lucky Emperor: Guild Leader, you’re mistaken! That video wasn’t me! Don’t ruin a good man’s reputation!】
【Charlotte: Hmph. [Smirk]】
【Lucky Emperor: Seriously, Guild Leader! I’ve always been honest and open. This kind of dirty trick? Not my style. I suspect there’s a Royal Power spy inside our guild!】
【Charlotte: Monster. Listen to your own video again.】
"No way…"
Lucky Emperor stares. He replays the video.
At the very end—beneath the music—there’s a faint, unmistakable laugh.
And only he can make that sound.
His laugh is legendary. Infamous. Cursed.
Cold sweat drips down his forehead. His mind races.
【Lucky Emperor: It’s a frame-up! Someone added my laugh to the video on purpose!】
【Charlotte: Hmph. [Smile]】
【Lucky Emperor: That traitor is trying to ruin our unity! Our guild’s bond is sacred!】
【Charlotte: We’ll talk when you get back. [Smile]】
The chat window shows that eerie, slow smile.
Lucky Emperor’s heart sinks.
This is bad. This is really bad.
But then—
A sharp, familiar scent hits his nose. Gunpowder.
He looks up.
He’s at the front door.
The gargoyle sculpture above the entrance stares down at him—hungry, greedy.
Outside, Players already bear the marks of their pact: bat wings, horns, glowing eyes. They clutch warm Hell Contracts, their faces lit with pride.
To mortals, they’re corrupted, monstrous—Devils in human skin.
But to Players?
"Damn… so cool."
Lucky Emperor swallows hard. His eyes burn with desire.
He clenches his fists.
"Forget it. Right now, the only thing that matters is seizing this career expansion!"
(End of Chapter)
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